#bts au fic

[n9mgi]

thinking bout you kim taehyung x reader

kim taehyung x fem reader

read the epilogue here

summary: summer. italy. the 2000s. two strangers from opposite sides of the world. they only shared a few weeks together— a handful of late nights, endless laughter, and words lost between languages. but unlike most, some loves don’t disappear when summer ends.

themes: reader is american, taehyung is south korean, romance, fluff, smut, so much angst oh my god, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, summer romance, established relationship, y/n is reminiscing, intense love it's sick, slight language barrier, yearning, limited time, lowk soulmates, taehyung is a sweetheart, confessions, right person wrong time

warnings: drinking, i cried while writing the ending, explicit & descriptive smut, MINORS DNI 18+ (dom!tae, oral m&f, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, praise, cream pie)

word count : 14k

♬⋆.˚ "thinking bout you" - ariana grande

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

there are certain summers that never really leave you. most of them blur together after awhile— sunburnt afternoons, crowded streets, cheap liquor, music drifting through open windows.

they fade in the way old pictures do, slowly loosing their color until all they have to offer are soft outlines of memories.

but that summer in italy never faded.

you remembered everything about it. from the way the air smelled like cigarettes and espresso, and the golden light that lit up narrow alleyways every evening that made the city glow.

and the fountain in milan.

it was small, tucked into a quiet piazza you had wandered into by accident on your second day there. water spilled lazily over worn marble, catching the last light of the sunset. people passed through the square without really noticing it, but you remember thinking it felt like the kind of place meant for slowing down.

that's where you met him.

sitting on the edge of the fountain, letting the cool mist of the water hit your legs after walking all afternoon. the sky had turned that soft shade of orange and pink that only seems to exist for a few minutes before the night settles in.

you were tracing the lines of the fountain with your fingers when you felt it—that strange, unexplainable feeling of being watched. nothing uneasy... just aware.

when you looked up, he was standing on the other side of the fountain.

tall, quiet, hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. the fading sunlight caught in his fluffy black hair and softened the edges of his face, turning everything around him golden for a moment. he was in his early twenties like you, his features sharp and soft at the same time.

he didn't look like he was from here. you could tell in the way he moved through the square, pausing to take everything in—the buildings, the people, the fading light. like he was trying to memorize the moment.

he was looking straight at you. not in a quick, passing way like strangers usually do. he was really looking.

your eyes met across the fountain, and something your chest shifted so suddenly it almost startled you.

it was the strangest feeling—like recognition without explanation. like you had somehow arrived in the same moment from opposite ends of the world. he didn’t look away, and neither did you. something about the eye contact you exchanged made your breath catch so lightly you barely noticed it.

for a few seconds, the sounds of the piazza—the water, the laughter, the distant music drifting from somewhere down the street—seemed to fade into the background. there was just the quiet space between you. and the feeling, sharp and electric, that something had just begun.

at the time, you didn’t know his name. you didn’t know he was from south korea, or that you would only have a few weeks before the summer ended.

all you knew was that when he smiled at you—small, almost shy—something warm and unfamiliar spread through your chest.

the kind of feeling someone doesn't forget. the kind that makes you wonder, years later, how your life might have been different if you had looked away first. but neither of you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

august 2003

for a moment neither of you moved. the sky had deepened into that soft shade between sunset and evening, when everything in the city turns warm and dim.

then he did something small that made your heart jump. he let out a laugh. not loudly—just a soft, surprised laugh under his breath, like he had caught himself staring for too long.

he ran a hand through his hair and glanced away for a second before looking back at you again, a little sheepish. that's when he walked over.

you watched him circle around the fountain slowly, like he was giving himself time to decide whether he should actually come talk to you.

when he reached the side where you were sitting, he stopped a few feet away. “hi,” he said. his voice was gentle but deep, a mysterious accent curled around the word in a way that made it sound softer somehow.

“hi,” you answered.

for a second, he looked relieved that you replied. then he leaned back slightly against the stone edge of the fountain, close enough now that you could see the way the last light of the sunset caught in his eyes.

“you are… visiting?” he asked carefully.

you nodded. “yeah. from the states.”

something bright flickered across his face. “ah,” he said, smiling a little wider now. “america.”

there was a pause. not an awkward one exactly—just the kind that happens when two strangers are trying to figure each other out.

“and you?” you asked with a smile.

he hesitated for half a second. “i’m from south korea,” he said finally, tapping his chest lightly with his hand.

something about the way he said it made you smile. “wow,” you said softly. “that’s… far.”

he laughed again, this time with a little more ease. “yes,” he said. “very far.”

for a small moment, you both looked out at the water pouring over the fountain, the city around you beginning to glow with evening lights. then he glanced at you again, almost curious. “you like italy?” he asked.

you shrugged slightly. "i think i do now.”

he tilted his head. “now?”

you smiled without thinking. "yeah."

and for the first time since you'd started talking, he looked directly at you again in that same quiet way he had across the fountain. like he understood something unspoken between you, even though you had only just met.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sky had turned into a dark blue by the time you realized how long you'd been sitting there. somewhere down the street a musician had started playing a guitar, the music drifting through the warm night air.

he glanced at the sound, then back at you. “walk?” he asked, gesturing toward the street with a small, hopeful smile.

you hesitated for half a second. you had no idea where you were going. you barely knew this man—you'd only spoken a handful of sentences to each other. but somehow, it didn’t feel strange at all.

“okay,” you agreed. his smile widened, quick and bright.

you fell into step beside each other, leaving the quiet piazza behind as you wandered deeper into the city.

small restaurants spilled light and conversation onto the sidewalks, people lingering at outdoor tables with glasses of wine. scooters hummed past you every few minutes while the smell of fresh bread drifted through the air from somewhere nearby.

every so often he would point something out. “beautiful,” he said once, nodding toward an old building lit up against the dark sky. his english was good, but his unfamiliarity with speaking out loud to an american coated his sentences with shyness and nerves.

“what’s your name?” you asked after a while.

he looked at you, a little surprised, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him yet. "taehyung," he said.

you repeated it somewhat terribly at first, earning you a soft laugh from him. his laugh lit a fire inside your stomach and you tried again, cheeks red until you got it right.

"yours?" he asked with a smile, coming down from your shared fit of laughter.

"y/n," you replied.

"y/n..." he repeated with hesitation, accent swirling over the pronunciation. "pretty. never heard before."

you felt your face get hot. you kept walking like that—talking in slow sentences, laughing when one of you misunderstood the other. sometimes, there were long pauses when neither of you knew what to say next, but they never felt uncomfortable.

eventually, you turned a corner and found yourselves in front of a small bar tucked between two old buildings. music poured out through the open doors—something upbeat and loud, people laughing inside. he stopped walking.

“you like… drink?” he asked.

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re asking if I like drinking?”

he grinned, clearly pleased he’d gotten the sentence right. “yes.”

"yeah," you laughed. "i like drinking."

inside, the bar the air was warm and loud, filled with conversation and music. someone was clapping along to the song playing through the speakers, and a group of people near the counter were dancing in the tiny space between tables.

you squeezed in at the bar together, shoulder to shoulder. he ordered for you both in careful, but pristine italian. you were undoubtedly impressed. you just met this man and he had already spoken three different languages.

when the drinks came, he lifted his glass toward you. “to…” he paused, thinking hard. “to meeting,” he finished with a grin.

you smiled and tapped your glass lightly against his. "to meeting.”

the music got louder, people started dancing closer to you, and before you knew it you two were laughing like you'd known each other longer than just a couple hours.

"you ever been to the states?" you asked, to which he shook his head.

"i want to go sometime," he replied, a dreamy smile on his face.

at some point while you were almost done with your drink, he grabbed your hand to pull you toward the small open space where people were dancing. it happened so naturally that you barely had time to act. "come," he said, a large, cheeky smile plastered across his face.

"i don't know this song," you laughed.

"that's okay," he said, his hand was still wrapped around yours, warm and steady. when you reached the middle of the small crowd, he let go just long enough to turn and face you.

for a second, you both hesitated. then he placed one hand lightly at your waist. the touch was careful at first, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. you didn’t.

the music shifted into something slower, softer. he moved a little closer. not enough to startle you, but just enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your dress.

“like this?” he asked quietly, glancing down at both your shoes.

you nodded. "like this.”

you started moving together slowly, almost instinctively. neither of you were dancing in any structured way--you were just swaying gently to the music, steps small and unhurried. but it felt strangely easy, like you had done this before.

his hand rested at the small of your back now, steady and warm. your hand had found its way to his shoulder without you even realizing it, and your fingers were still loosely intertwined.

every so often, he would look down to make sure he wasn’t stepping on your feet. every time he looked back up, you caught him watching you again, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

all you could really focus on was the quiet rhythm of the music and the way he was looking at you—soft, curious, like he was trying to memorize it.

“you dance… good,” he said eventually, a little breathless.

you laughed. “i’m barely dancing.”

he smiled. “still good.”

he spun you once when the music picked up again, laughing when you nearly lost your balance. his grip on you tightened just slightly, steadying you before pulling you back toward him.

you ended up closer than before. close enough that you could see the tiny crease in his eyebrow when he smiled. close enough that the rest of the room seemed to disappear entirely. it was the kind of quiet closeness you only get after knowing someone for years.

but you had only met a few hours ago.

he must have felt it too, because his expression softened in that same thoughtful way you had noticed earlier by the fountain. neither of you spoke, just kept moving slowly with the music, his hand still resting at your back, fingers still loosely tangled together.

and when you think about that night, you realized that was the moment everything changed. not the first glance across the fountain. not the walk through the city.

it was standing there in that crowded little bar, swaying to music neither of you knew, feeling like somehow you had stepped into a version of time where you had always known each other.

and maybe, for that one summer, you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you two stepped outside, the city had finally come to a quiet and the summer air felt cooler now, the heat of the day fading from the stone streets.

the music from the bar behind you spilled out in muffled waves, but everything else felt still. the two of you just stood there. taehyung looked at you like he had something to say. instead, he just smiled.

"walk more?" he asked.

you nodded. "i'm not ready for this night to end yet."

something in his expression softened at that. "me too."

you both started down the street together again, slower this time. the city at night felt different—quieter, more intimate. most of the restaurants had dimmed their lights, and couples lingered at the last few outdoor tables with half-finished glasses of wine.

your shoulders brushed occasionally as you walked, neither of you moving away. after a while he asked, “you travel alone?”

“yeah,” you admitted. something you wouldn’t normally do to a man you just met. “just this summer.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “i'm here to visit,” he said. “my cousin lives here.”

“and after?”

“i go back to korea.” there was something about the way he said it that made the reality of it settle quietly between both of you. korea. the word felt impossibly far away. you walked farther in silence.

eventually you ended up in another small square, one right in front of your hotel. a few dim streetlights cast soft yellow circles across the cobblestones.

you sat down on the low stone edge of a planter, stretching your legs slightly after all the walking. he stood in front of you for a moment, height almost blocking your vision before sitting beside you. close. close enough that your knees brushed.

“your name,” he said suddenly, looking at you again. “say it again?”

you told him again as he repeated it slowly this time, careful with every syllable. the way it sounded in his voice made something warm spread through your chest.

“you say mine better now,” he said with a small smile.

“i practiced,” you teased.

he laughed. something about the way he laughed tugged at your heartstrings. it was different. it was authentic— unashamed. it was different from the boys back home who tried so hard to act nonchalant. he laughed like every word you said was overly enjoyable to him. it made you giggle.

the quiet between you felt heavier now, charged with something neither of you had quite acknowledged yet.

when you turned your head, you realized he was already looking at you. brown eyes boring into yours like he had been trying to decide something. your breath caught slightly.

you were close enough now that you could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. close enough that if either of you leaned forward even a little...

neither of you moved. but the space between you felt electric. it was almost making you dizzy.

his eyes dropped briefly to your lips before lifting again. a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “i think,” he said slowly, searching for the words, “maybe… tonight was very good.”

you laughed softly. "yeah. i think so too."

for a second longer you stayed there like that—too close, the air between you thick with the kind of tension that makes your heart beat louder than usual.

and then he leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake the moment away. “tomorrow,” he said after a pause, looking at me again. “you're free?”

your heart skipped. “yeah."

he smiled again. and somehow the promise of seeing him again tomorrow felt even more exciting than if you had kissed right then.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you woke up the next morning still thinking about him.

for a moment you thought maybe the night before had felt bigger in my memory than it really was. maybe it was a dream. because sometimes, things that happen while on vacation feel more intense than they actually are.

but then, you checked the small slip of paper sitting on the table beside your bed. his handwriting was careful, a little uneven in places.

a time and a place. with his name again, just in case you forgot how to spell it. you smiled to yourself without realizing you were doing so.

when you arrived at the piazza that afternoon, he was already there.

leaning against the edge of the fountain like he had been the night before, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching the people move through the square. but the moment he spotted you, his whole face brightened. “hi,” he said.

“hi," you smiled.

for a second, you both just stood there smiling at each other like you had forgotten how to start a normal conversation. then he said, almost casually, “you want to see something beautiful today?”

you laughed. "that sounds mysterious.”

“trust me,” he said. and for some reason, you did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train ride was short, but the whole time, taehyung kept glancing out the window like he was waiting for a moment he recognized. when you finally stepped off at the small station, the air felt different.

you walked down a narrow street lined with pale buildings and flower boxes until suddenly the road opened up. and there it was.

the one and only, lake como stretched out in front of you like glass, greenery and flowers blooming along the edges of the glittery water that reflected the pale blue sky and the mountains rising around it.

you stopped walking without realizing it. “oh my god," you exhaled softly.

he watched your reaction more than the view in front of you two. “you like it?”

“i love it,” you gushed. “i didn't think i'd get to see it.”

“first time?”

“yeah.”

he smiled, looking pleased with himself. “good.”

you wandered along the edge of the lake for a while, past small docks and quiet cafés where people sat drinking wine in the afternoon sun. the whole place felt peaceful in a way the city never was.

eventually, you both found a quiet stretch of stone steps leading down to the water.

you sat there side by side, your feet just a few inches above the gentle ripples of the bright blue lake. the mountains reflected in the water, boats drifting slowly in the distance, the warm breeze moving softly through the trees.

it felt like time had slowed down, like it barely existed.

“you travel a lot?” he asked after a while.

“not really,” you said. “this is the first time I’ve done something like this.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “good choice.”

"yeah." you giggled. "i think so too."

you turned to look at him and realized he was already watching you. his eyes carefully scanning your expression, the kind of look that makes you suddenly aware of how close someone is sitting. your heart started beating a little faster.

“you're quiet today,” he said.

“i'm just... taking it all in.”

“the lake?” he asked.

you smiled. “partly.”

something about that made him laugh softly, the sound lingering in the air before he shifted closer. you both held the eye contact as he carefully tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear— away from your face, like he needed to see every inch of it. your breath caught and this time, he noticed.

"can i?" he asked quietly. you nodded before he could even finish the sentence, and the space between you closed.

the kiss was soft at first, like you were both trying to make sure the moment was real. nonetheless, it sent sparks throughout both of your bodies, igniting something between you two. suddenly, it felt like this was meant to happen.

you both melted into the kiss as his hand cupped your cheek lightly while yours curved instinctively into the front of his shirt.

the world around you seemed to go silent-- the lake, the distant chatter, the gentle waves of the water. it felt like it all disappeared. like you were the only two people there.

when you finally pulled apart, you both laughed a little, slightly breathless. “well,” you said, catching your breath.

“well,” he echoed, looking out across the lake again. he shook his head with a small smile. “now this place... even more beautiful.”

you nudged his shoulder. “you're cheesy.”

“a little only,” he replied.

but when he glanced back at you again, the look in his eyes was softer than before. like something between you was blooming.

and sitting there beside him with the sun reflecting off the water, you realized something you probably should have been more careful about.

you didn’t want this day to end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the idea to rent the boat had been his. you hadn’t even noticed the small dock until he pointed to it.

“let's go?” he asked, nodding toward the little motorboats tied along the water’s edge before gently taking a hold of your hand.

“are we allowed to just… take one?” you asked.

he laughed loudly. “we rent.”

“oh. right.”

a few minutes later, you were gliding slowly out across lake como, the water stretching endlessly around you while the small towns along the shore grew smaller in the distance.

you sat at the front of the boat, one hand trailing just above the surface of the lake. the water sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and the mountains surrounding you looked unreal.

“you’re smiling,” he commented from behind you.

you turned around. “i can’t help it. this is… ridiculous.”

“ridiculous?”

“in the best way,” you said. “yesterday, i was wandering around alone in the city. today, i'm on a boat on lake como with someone i met at a fountain.”

he grinned. “life is... a surprise.”

“that’s one way to put it.”

the boat drifted farther out toward the middle of the lake before he slowed the motor. the quiet out here felt different from the city. no traffic, no crowds— just the gentle sound of the water brushing against the sides of the boat and the distant hum of birds somewhere along the mountains.

by the time the sun started lowering behind the peaks, the whole lake had turned golden, kissed with pinks and oranges. you leaned back against the side of the boat, watching the light ripple across the water.

“it’s beautiful,” you said softly. he nodded with a smile.

then after a moment he asked, “why travel alone?”

you glanced at him. "why not?”

he smiled faintly. “not an answer.”

you laughed. "fair.” for a second, you didn't know how honest you wanted to be. but the quiet of the lake and the comfort that beamed off of him made it feel easier.

“i guess i just… needed something different,” you exhaled. “life at home was starting to feel predictable.”

he tilted his head slightly. “you run away?”

“maybe a little,” you admitted.

“what from?”

you shrugged. “nothing dramatic. just the feeling that i was doing everything i was supposed to do without actually enjoying any of it.”

he watched you carefully while you spoke.

“school. work. plans. it's so repetitive," you sighed.

“and now?”

you gestured around the two of you. “now, I’m sitting in the middle of a lake in italy with a man i met yesterday.”

that made him laugh quietly. "better plan."

"much better."

“what about you?” you asked. “why are you here?”

he leaned back against the seat, staring out across the water. "my aunt and cousin,” he said. “they said i should visit.”

“and you just decide to spend time with me instead?”

he shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips, struggling to fight another laugh. “why not?"

“you're very spontaneous.”

“maybe.”

you studied him for a moment. “you seem like someone who doesn’t do things halfway.”

that made him glance back at you. “what does that mean?”

“i don’t know,” you said. “you just seem… intense.”

he laughed again. “intense?”

"a little."

he didn't deny it. the boat rocked gently beneath you as the sun dipped lower. eventually he moved closer, sitting beside you at the front, shoulders brushing.

“you're happy you came here?” he asked quietly.

you turned to him. “very.”

his gaze lingered on yours for a second longer than usual. then his large hand found yours again, fingers sliding between yours naturally, like they had done it a hundred times before. your heart thumped through your chest as heat creeped up your face.

the lake had grown darker now, the last light of sunset reflecting across the water in soft streaks. you both didn't talk for some time, the quiet felt full of something unspoken.

“you know,” he said softly, “i think maybe... best day of my trip.”

your heart fluttered slightly. "me too."

then, almost absentmindedly, his thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand. the gesture was small. but the warmth of it was enough to send a wave of electricity through you.

the sky deepened into purple and gold around you as the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains.

and sitting there in the fading light on the quiet water of lake como, you had the strange feeling that you were living inside a moment you would remember for the rest of your life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the restaurant he chose sat right along the edge of the water.

from the terrace, you could still see the darkening outline of the mountains around the lake, the reflections stretching across the dark water like soft shadows. lanterns hung above the outdoor tables, casting warm golden light over the small crowd of people eating and talking quietly.

when the waiter led the both of you to your table, you realized the lake was only a few feet away. “this place is beautiful,” you said.

he pulled your chair out before you took a seat. he went to take a seat across from you, smiling. “not as beautiful.”

you looked up at him. “what?”

he shrugged a little, suddenly looking almost shy. “you.”

your face warmed immediately. “you're just saying that.”

he shook his head, resting his elbows lightly on the table. “no." his voice almost stern. "i thought it yesterday too.”

for a moment, neither of you looked away, eye colors practically melting into one another. the candle between you flickered softly in the breeze, but everything else felt strangely still.

eventually, you laughed nervously and picked up your menu. “you’re distracting me.”

he grinned. “good.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

dinner stretched on longer than it should have. partly because the food was good, but mostly because neither of you wanted to stop talking. or looking at each other. sometimes, you'd pause mid-conversation and realize you were both just staring.

“you do that a lot,” you teased at one point.

“what?”

“look at me like that.”

he tilted his head slightly. “like what?”

“like you’re trying to figure something out.”

he thought about it for a second. “maybe i am.”

“and what have you figured out so far?”

he leaned back in his chair, studying you again with that thoughtful expression. “that... i like you,” he said simply.

the flat honesty of it caught you off guard, but your heart skipped a beat. "you only met me yesterday."

"yes," he agreed.

"and you already decided that?"

he smiled. "you made it easy to decide."

you tried to laugh it off, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it difficult. the waiter brought another bottle of wine, and the conversation drifted to lighter things—music, travel, stories from home.

but the feeling between you never really faded. every time your hands brushed reaching for the same glass or plate, the touch lingered a second too long. the sparks traveled through your bodies.

every time your eyes met, neither of you looked away first.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you two got off the train, the evening air of the summer had finally cooled and the town grew quiet.

the walk back was different from the one earlier that day. this time, the silence stretched, but the distance between you two was almost closed entirely. your hands found each others immediately as you stepped onto the street.

after walking for awhile without speaking, he stopped suddenly. you turned to him. "what's wrong?"

"nothing." he said softly. but he didn't move. you two were standing close again, enough that you could feel his warmth and smell his cologne against the cold, night air.

“you're quiet,” you said.

“i’m thinking.”

“about what?”

he looked down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. “that if i don’t kiss you now, i might regret it.”

your breath caught and the moment stretched for half a second. you stepped closer and that was all it took. his hand slid to your waist as he pulled you toward him, and the kiss came suddenly—stronger than earlier, like all the tension from the entire day had finally snapped.

the world around you disappeared. like you and him were the only ones to exist in that moment. the empty street and the music that hummed quietly somewhere in the distance; it all faded into the background as the kiss deepened, slower but somehow more intense.

when you finally pulled apart, you were both a little breathless. he rested his forehead lightly against yours, laughing under his breath.

“i think,” he said softly, “this day was dangerous.”

you smiled. “why?”

his eyes poured into yours. “because now, i don’t want it to end.” and standing there in the warm summer night, you realized you didn’t want it to end either.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you reached your hotel, the streets were completely bare. the warm hum of the town had faded into something quieter—just the distant sound of water against the docks and the occasional echo of your footsteps down the street.

you slowed as you reached the entrance. the lantern above the door cast a soft golden light over the stone walls, and suddenly you became very aware of how close he was standing.

you turned, and for a moment, you both just looked at each other. the whole day seemed to settle between you two at once—the lake, the boat ride, the sunset, the dinner where neither of you could stop staring.

taehyung's hand brushed lightly against yours before his slim fingers closed around it. “you’re thinking,” he said softly.

“maybe.”

“about what?”

you laughed nervously, glancing toward the hotel entrance behind you. “that i should probably say goodnight.”

“probably,” he agreed. but neither of you moved. instead, he stepped a little closer. the small movement sent a quiet rush of warmth through your chest.

“you know,” he said, his voice lower now, “i’ve been trying to be very... polite tonight.”

“oh?” you said.

“yes.”

“and why is that?”

his thumb brushed slowly across the back of your hand. “if i wasn’t,” he said, “i would kiss you again.”

your breath caught. “you could have done that anyway.”

a slow smile appeared on his face. “good to know.”

the space between you disappeared almost instantly. his hand slid softly to your waist as he pulled you closer. when he kissed you this time, it felt deeper than before—slow and warm, like he had been thinking about doing it all evening.

after what felt like hours, you both pulled away, smiling as you each tried to catch your breath back. you turned and headed for the doors behind you while taehyung held it open for you.

you stepped into the empty, dimly lit hotel lobby without letting go of each other's hands. luckily, your room was only a short walk down the hallway. when you reached your door, you suddenly felt nervous again. he noticed. “you okay?” he asked softly.

you nodded, fumbling slightly with the key. “yeah.” the door clicked open. you stepped inside and he followed, closing it quietly behind him.

you both just stood there in the soft lamplight of the room, the same charged silence filling the space between you again. then, he stepped closer. his hand lifted gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face again, his fingers lingering for a second at your cheek.

“you’re beautiful,” he said quietly.

the way the words left his tongue with meaning made your heart race. before you could think of anything to say back, his hand slid to your waist again, drawing you closer to his chest.

taehyung kissed you once more that night, deeper this time. but it wasn't rushed at all, like he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. his touch was gentle, but there was something confident in the way he held you, like he already knew this was meant to be.

the room felt warmer suddenly. like the rest of the world had vanished somewhere beyond the window.

and for a moment, standing there in the soft light of your hotel room, the only thing that seemed real was the feeling of his hands around you and the quiet, undeniable pull between you.

your fingers clutched his shirt eagerly, pulling him closer to your height. he took it as a signal to deepen the kiss, one of his hands resting firmly at your hips while the other was lost in your hair. he was so close now that his nose brushed against yours while your lips continued to collide.

“i don't think i have ever wanted to kiss someone this much," he breathed as you pulled apart only briefly for air. you laughed softly, blush warming up your cheeks. "neither have i."

the sight made his heart skip, the sound of your laughter fading when he kissed you again, slower this time. "see?" he whispered against your lips. "you make it hard to behave."

you shyly giggled when suddenly, your back gently hit the wall as he kissed you again. your palms explored his hair, falling to his clothed chest and down his abdomen that felt like it was made out of steel. he grunted, smiling into the kiss before softly tugging your lower lip between his teeth.

you made a noise to which he hummed, effortlessly sliding his tongue into your mouth. you responded, attempting to fight his tongue off with yours before failing. you could almost moan as he hungrily explored your mouth. his hands slid lower down your body before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you two before disappearing with gravity.

"this is okay?" he asked softly, breathless.

you nodded, also trying to find your breath. "yes."

then, he slid his big palms below you before suddenly picking you up, legs straddling his waist. you yelped, caught off guard before erupting in laughter which earned a big smile from him. he kissed you again, his hands resting below your ass. the kiss didn't break as he softly put you down on the bed.

he hummed into the kiss. "you taste like wine."

you broke the kiss. "oh, shut up." your head tilted back in laughter, but taehyung saw it as an opportunity. he grabbed your thighs and slid you closer to him before pressing a soft kiss behind your ear.

then another one. "i mean it." his voice was deep as he placed another one. the kisses got lower and sloppier, becoming more wet and open-mouthed as he trailed down your neck before stopping at your collarbone where he started to suck at your skin lightly.

you moaned, unable to keep it in anymore and he noticeably sucked in a breath at the sound. you intertwined your fingers with his long ones before guiding them down to the hem of your top.

"are you sure?" he asked one last time, his fingers resting lazily at the bottom, tracing lightly against your stomach. before you could respond, one of his hands came up to your cheek. he gently guided your chin up to look at him fully.

"yes, taehyung. i'm sure," you said, eyes big and doe-eyed, looking right into his. he smiled, passion swirling between his pupils as he placed a light peck on your lips, his fingers curling into your top before you pulled it off.

taehyung didn't hesitate to openly admire your exposed upper body, his eyes scanning you with a hint of darkness as you grabbed him closer, engulfing him into another kiss. he was on top of you at this point, his large figure blocking your view as he kissed you with need, kissed you like he's been waiting for this his whole life.

his hands traveled across your body like it was his already, cupping your boobs and sliding his hand up and down your inner thighs. you were already a wet, whimpering mess underneath him as he inserted his knee between your legs, putting the slightest pressure on your clothed pussy.

you tugged at his shirt eagerly, manicured nails fumbling to get the buttons un-done. he laughed into the kiss before pulling away and finishing what you started, discarding the fabric somewhere in your room.

your jaw dropped. for a young man in his early twenties, you could already tell that he spent half of his time back home in korea at the gym. his shoulders were incredibly broad, muscles big and swell on his arms while his six-pack of abs practically gleamed in the light of the night.

you couldn't help but run your hands all over his chest as he came back to the bed to hover over you again. "you like?" he smirked.

you nodded before quickly pulling him into another kiss. it wasn't long before taehyung leaned lower, pressing his hard, clothed cock against your pussy. you moaned out as he trailed his fingers over your area, smirking at the wetness already present.

his hand hooked at the top of your skirt, giving you one last look to which you nodded. before you knew it, you were completely exposed underneath the man you met two days ago. but it just felt right. because by the way he looked at you, you knew you didn't have anything to hide or be ashamed of.

"you're so beautiful... do you know that?" he murmured against your lips. you whimpered in response, his words making your head dizzy. he began to rub his thick fingers against your panties before pulling them to the side and entering one inside of you.

you cried out in a moan, which caused taehyung to immediately litter you in soft kisses. it had been so long. "you're okay... i got you baby.”

he gently caressed your face with one hand, his brown eyes holding your gaze intensely. your pussy clenched around him at the nickname that rolled off his tongue as he added another finger, your wetness practically spilling out as he thrusted his fingers in and out.

before you could even process it, taehyung was pulling away from you, his free hand pulling your panties to the side and dipping his head straight into your core. your thighs nearly crushed his head in a mix of pleasure and shock, immediately moaning his name while he started with gentle licks, veiny hands softly prying your legs back open.

his three fingers continued to plunge inside of you while his tongue hungrily explored your walls, preparing you for something much larger. you gripped at his hair, absentmindedly pulling him deeper into you. he laid his tongue flat against your folds before licking a long, slow strip up. you groaned as he picked his pace up again.

he could feel your walls clenching around him as he guided you to your release, his thumb circling your clit while your back arched off of the mattress in pleasure. soon, your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, and taehyung's fingers were covered in your slick before he licked the rest away with ease. something about that made you squirm underneath him.

"did such a good job," he huffed, licking at his lips.

"taehyung, i need you," you moaned breathlessly, hands trailing up his leg to rest over his hardness. you greedily palmed at his cock that was now twitching under your touch.

"i need you too." he groaned, intertwining your hand with his to place a kiss at the top. he quickly climbed off the bed and tugged his belt off with ease, his pants hitting the ground with a soft thud. there it was, a large imprint of his cock angrily bulging through his boxers.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, voice so low you could almost swear you felt the vibration from it. he stood at the edge of the bed while you took him in, peering up at him as your fingers teasingly trailed up from the tip of his cock to the rim of his briefs.

finally, after what felt like hours of getting lost in each other's eyes, you pulled down his boxers, letting his member spring out freely in front of you. it twisted up, almost hitting his metal abs while leaking with pre-cum. he admired you from above while you gawked at it's true size, sitting at the edge of the bed.

it wasn't long before you wrapped your hand around it, slowly trying to take the width into your mouth. he groaned loudly as your lips enclosed around his cock, trying your best to fit in every inch, but failing. his fingers found themselves in your hair as he guided your head back and forth, hissing in pleasure.

you looked up at him after a few minutes, darkness twirling around his brown eyes before he pulled you off gently. he held your face lightly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead before laying you down on the bed. "need to be inside."

you gasped for air as he climbed on top of you, engulfing you in one last kiss before lining himself at your entrance. the kiss was slow this time, infatuation and desire flowing through the both of you. you noticeably winced as his tip slowly broke in through your entrance.

he cooed in your ear as he pushed it in further, your walls almost sucking him in immediately as he practically split you open. you cried out, not at all used to his size. he quickly came to a stop, letting you take it in before proceeding any further.

"look at me," he whispered. your shut eyes opened, gaping up at his face that was barely inches away from yours. he looked at you in awe, like you were made out of glass that he was too scared to break. "stay with me baby."

finally, you let him move and he slid himself all the way in, breaking past your entrance and hitting the back of your walls with his tip. your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer and sinking his cock deeper into you. your walls squeezed around him, earning a deep, guttural moan from him.

"tell me if… too much," he breathed, hot breath spilling down your neck as he peppered kisses behind your ear.

"no," you blurted, gasping for air. "feels so right."

after a few careful thrusts, taehyung quickly picked up his pace. the lewd sound of skin to skin slapping filled the room as stars filled your vision. his tip repeatedly hit the back of your pussy at an angle, bulge visibly fucking you when you looked at your stomach. your nails dug into him, leaving sharp red lines along his sturdy back.

he pulled out almost all the way before ramming himself back inside of you again, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. every thrust sent waves of euphoria through your bodies, sweat combining as he dragged his body against yours. his cock explored your insides like he had done it a million times before. like you were made for each other.

"taehyung," you cried. "don't fucking stop."

he practically growled in your ear in response. his pace was ruthless, his wide cock stretching and dragging along your walls as you whimpered endlessly beneath him. pressure began to build up in your core, tight and hotter than it ever felt in your entire life. every plunge of taehyung's cock pushed you farther into exhilaration.

"need you to come," he said, hands gripping tighter at your waist to push himself farther into you, his thick eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. "on me baby."

and for the second time that night, your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami, walls tightening around taehyung's cock like a vacuum. you moaned out his name, clutching onto his body like you couldn't let go. "need it inside, taehyung." you cried brokenly.

he groaned at your words, cursing in korean while licking a stripe from your ear down to your neck with his tongue. your release created a slosh of wetness around his dick as he kept thrusting into you, eventually letting himself go and spilling his hot seed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. his body twitched against yours as your heart beats fell into sync.

mixed, hot cum sunk into the sheets of your hotel bed as taehyung landed beside you, smile wide as he attacked your face with gentle kisses. you erupted in breathless giggles as he pulled you closer to his chest, nuzzling his nose in the crevice of your neck.

“today with you…" he started, voice low as he caressed your face with his thumb fondly. "i won't forget it.”

"me neither," you smiled.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first thing you noticed was the sunlight. it slipped through the thin hotel curtains in pale gold lines, warming the quiet room and the rumpled sheets around you.

your mind was still somewhere between sleep and memory—the lake, the dinner, the walk through the quiet streets.

then, you felt an arm shift slightly around your waist. you blinked and suddenly, everything came rushing back. taehyung was still asleep beside you, one arm still loosely draped over you.

the soft morning light made him look different somehow. less mysterious than the night before. he looked calmer and younger, almost. a strand of his hair had fallen across his forehead, and his breathing was slow and steady.

it was supposed to feel strange—waking up next to someone you had only met two days ago. yet it didn’t feel strange at all. like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

as if sensing you move, he shifted slightly and opened his eyes. for a second, he looked confused. then, he saw you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “morning,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

“morning," you smiled.

he rubbed a hand across his face, blinking at the sunlight. “you're staring at me.”

you laughed softly. “you were staring at me yesterday.”

“that is different.”

“how?”

he thought about it for a second. “yesterday... i was trying to figure you out.”

“and today?”

he looked at you again, his expression softer now. “today, i’m just happy you’re still here.”

something warm spread through your chest at that. outside, somewhere down the street, a bike buzzed past and a church bell rang faintly in the distance. the town was waking up, but neither of you moved.

instead, he reached out and brushed his fingers lightly along your arm, like he was making sure you were real. “you sleep okay?” he asked.

“yeah,” you said. “you?”

he nodded. then after a moment he said, half-teasing, “you snore a little."

you sat up immediately. “i do not.”

he laughed loudly, pulling you gently back down beside him. “relax,” he said, smiling. “joking.”

you nudged his shoulder. “you’re mean in the morning.”

“a little only.”

you laid there quietly for a moment, the sunlight slowly filling the room. then he glanced at the window. “what are we doing today?”

you shrugged. “i don’t know.”

he looked back at you, smiling again. "good."

"why?"

“yesterday we had no plan,” he laced his fingers through yours lazily before pressing a small kiss on top. “and it was the best day.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the café was only a short walk from the hotel. tiny tables spilled onto the sidewalk, shaded by colorful umbrellas, and the smell of espresso and fresh bread filled the air.

you two squeezed into a small table by the street. soon enough, a waiter brought two cappuccinos and a basket of warm pastries.

you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the first bite. taehyung watched you with a smile. “what?” you asked.

“you look happy.”

“i am happy,” you said. “i’m in italy eating pastries.”

he leaned back slightly in his chair. “with me.”

you raised an eyebrow. “don’t get cocky now.”

he laughed softly. but his eyes stayed on yours longer than necessary. every so often, his hand would drift across the small table, brushing your fingers, like he couldn’t quite stop himself.

at one point, he said quietly, “you’re very beautiful in the morning.”

you laughed. “i definitely am not.”

“you are.” the way he said it made it hard to argue.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you got back to the hotel, the streets were busier. but the moment the lobby door closed behind you two, the bustling noise of the city faded away.

there was something in the air again—the same charged silence from the night before. when you reached your door, you barely had time to unlock it before he gently pulled you closer against him.

“you always walk slow?” he murmured.

“maybe i like the suspense.”

he laughed quietly. inside the room, the sunlight had grown warmer, spilling across the floor. for a moment, you just stood there again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. his hand slid lightly around your waist.

“you know,” he said softly, “i was trying to behave again.”

“again?” you teased.

“yes.”

“and how’s that going?”

his smile was slow. "not very good."

the kiss came naturally after that—soft at first, like neither of you were in a hurry. the kind of slow, lingering closeness that makes time feel like it’s stretching. his hand brushed gently along your back while you laughed quietly against his shoulder.

“you’re distracting,” you said.

“you invited me back.”

“true.”

the room filled with soft laughter and quiet whispers as noon blurred slowly into something warmer and more intimate. eventually you ended up tangled in the sheets again, taehyung thrusting into you from behind, spilling tender words into your ear once more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

later, when the room had gone quiet again, you both ended up sitting near the open window. the warm breeze from the water drifted through the curtains. below you, the town moved slowly through the afternoon—people walking, scooters passing, distant voices echoing through the streets.

he sat beside you on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. “you leave when?” he asked suddenly.

the question caught you off guard. “two weeks,” you said, to which he nodded slowly. “and you?”

“few days after.”

the words hung in the air between you. for the first time since you met, something about the moment felt fragile. temporary.

you glanced at him as you felt your stomach churn. "you're thinking again."

he smiled faintly. "always."

"about what now?"

he looked at you now, expression softer than before. "that i met you in the wrong country."

your heart fluttered at that and he studied your face. then he reached over and laced his fingers with yours again.

outside the window, the sunlight shimmered across the water of the distant lake. and sitting there beside him, you had the quiet, unsettling feeling that this summer—this strange, perfect moment in time—was already beginning to slip away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few nights later, you found yourselves on a hill overlooking the town. someone at a bar had told you two about it earlier that day—a quiet viewpoint where locals sometimes came to watch the stars once the lights below dimmed. the walk up had been steep, but when you both reached the top, you understood why people came.

the whole town stretched below you in warm golden lights, the dark water shimmering faintly in the distance. above, the sky was impossibly clear. more stars than you had seen in years.

you sat on the low stone wall near the edge of the overlook, your shoulders touching as you both looked up.

for a while neither of you spoke, the quiet felt peaceful, but different from before. he was the first one to break the silence.

“you leave soon,” he said softly.

you nodded. “less than a week.”

he stared up at the sky for a moment longer before he let out a quiet breath. “i'm going to miss you.”

the words came out simple. honest. it made your chest tighten. “i’m going to miss you too,” you said.

he glanced over at you then, his expression thoughtful. “you know what's strange?”

“what?”

“we only meet… what, seven days ago?”

"eight,” you said quietly.

he laughed under his breath. “eight days,” he repeated. “and it feels… longer.”

“i know.” the truth of it sat heavily between you. down below, somewhere in the town, faint music drifted through the warm night air.

you leaned back slightly on your hands, looking up at the stars again. “do you ever wish time could just pause?”

he turned his head toward you, quickly averting his gaze from the stars to you, like you were the view he would endlessly choose over the stars. “right now?”

“yeah," you said quietly, fiddling with your thumbs. “so this moment doesn’t end.”

for a second he didn’t answer. then, his hand reached over, gently taking yours. his fingers laced with yours easily now, like they had done it a hundred times already.

“i think,” he said slowly, “if time stopped now… i would be okay with that.”

you smiled softly. “you wouldn’t get bored?”

"not if you were here."

you felt your heartstrings pull at your chest. the quiet stretched again, but this time it felt heavier. after a moment, he shifted closer, resting his shoulder lightly against yours.

“maybe we meet again someday,” he said.

“maybe,” you said. but the way you both said it sounded more like a hope than a plan.

the stars above you glittered against the dark sky. and sitting there beside him, fingers intertwined, you realized something that made your chest ache a little.

this summer—this strange, beautiful, impossible little story you had stumbled into—was never meant to last forever. but somehow that made every moment feel even more important.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

that night, neither of you wanted to go back right away.

you stayed at the viewpoint long after the stars had fully taken over the sky, long after the town below had gone quieter and the air had turned cooler. his hand stayed wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and every so often his thumb moved softly across your skin like he was thinking too much to be still.

on the walk back, you barely spoke. not because there was nothing to say. because there was too much.

the silence between you felt full—of the last few days, of all the things you still hadn’t said, of the quiet understanding that time was moving whether we wanted it to or not.

by the time you reached your hotel, your heart was beating too fast. he stopped with you at the door, and for a second, neither of you moved. the light above the entrance cast a soft gold over his face, catching the tiredness in his eyes, and the softness there too.

“you’re quiet,” he said.

you looked down for a moment, then back at him. “i don’t want this week to be over.”

something in his expression shifted. “me too,” he said quietly. that was all it took.

he stepped closer and kissed you, and this time it felt different from every other kiss before it—deeper, heavier, like all the restraint between you had finally worn thin. your hands found him instinctively, one against his chest, the other sliding up to his jaw, and he held you like he’d been wanting to for hours. maybe days.

the door opened behind you clumsily, and you both half-laughed into the kiss, stumbling inside without really breaking apart.

the room was dim except for the lamp near the bed. the second the door clicked shut, the quiet seemed to close around you.

he looked at you for one breathless second, like he was checking that this was still real, that you still wanted him there. you did.

he saw that immediately, his hand came to your waist again, slow and sure, and the next kiss was gentler somehow, even though the tension behind it burned hotter. he kissed you like he was trying to memorize you—patient, affectionate, impossible to misunderstand.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth.

the words made your chest tighten. you laughed softly, a little shaky. “you always say that.”

“because it’s true.” his forehead rested briefly against yours, both of you catching your breath, but neither moved away. the closeness only made everything worse—his hands, your pulse, the way the whole room seemed charged with something warm and dangerous.

“i’m trying to be good,” he said quietly.

you smiled. “are you?”

he looked at you with that small, unfair smile. “not really.”

you laughed again, but it disappeared when he kissed you once more, slower now, deeper, drawing you in until you forgot whatever you were about say. your hands slid around him; his brushed along your back, then lingered at your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left at all.

everything about the moment felt heightened—the warmth of the room, the soft rustle of clothes, the lamp light against the wall, the sound of your breathing in the quiet of the night.

there was no hurry in the way he touched you, no carelessness. just a kind of focus that made your whole body feel warm. he was still flirty, still teasing in little moments, but softer too, like the closeness meant something to him now beyond the thrill of it.

at one point, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing lightly along your cheek. “what?” you whispered.

he shook his head once, smiling faintly. “i think you made this difficult for me.”

you smiled, even though your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest. “me?”

“yes, you.”

“how?”

he leaned in again, voice low by your ear. “you make me want to stay.”

your breath caught. that nearly undid you more than the kisses had.

when you looked at him again, the teasing had softened. what was left in his face was something quieter, more honest, and somehow that made the moment feel even more intimate than anything else. so, you kissed him first that time. slowly. and whatever small distance that was left between you disappeared for good.

"i don't want to waste a second with you," he murmured into the kiss.

the night blurred after that into warmth and half-finished sentences, into soft laughter and breathless pauses, into the kind of closeness that makes time feel strange. outside, the town kept sleeping, the dark lake somewhere beyond the window, the stars still hanging over everything. but inside the room, it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to only this—to his hands, his voice, the way he said your name like it meant more than it should have after only a few days.

later, when the room finally went quiet, you lay close to him in the dark, both naked in the sheets as your head rested against him while the curtains moved softly in the night breeze. his fingers moved lazily against your arm, and he let out a quiet breath.

“i’m really going to miss you,” he said.

the words landed differently this time. you lifted your head to look at him, but in the dark, you could only make out the shape of his face, the outline of him against the pillow.

"I'm going to really miss you too," you whispered, swallowing the wrenched feeling in your throat. his hand found yours under the sheets, holding it tightly.

and somewhere in the silence that followed, with the window open and the summer night slipping slowly toward morning, you realized this was the part that would stay with you later.

not just the passion or just the wanting. but the tenderness after. and the way he held you like leaving had already begun to hurt.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

six days later~

you wake up before him in that gray early-morning light where your heart automatically felt heavy. the room is quiet except for the city outside your window and his breathing beside you. and for a few seconds, before reality catches up, you let yourself pretend this is normal. that this is just what mornings with him are. that there will be another one tomorrow.

but then, you remembered.

your flight. the time. and the fact that this is it.

he wakes up slowly, still warm and sleepy, one arm heavy around your waist like he kept you beside him even in his sleep. he looks at you like he already knows what kind of morning this is. no teasing, no easy smile at first.

you try to make it lighter. “don’t look at me like that,” with a little laugh that almost works.

he brushes your hair away from your face and says, very softly, “like what?”

"like you're making this harder," you whisper.

he smiles a little, but it's heavy with sadness. "it was always going to be hard."

you stay close in bed, talking in low voices like if you keep speaking softly enough, the morning won’t fully arrive. he traces shapes on your arm while you memorize everything; the slope of his shoulder, the sound of his voice, the way he says your name. both pretending you aren't counting down.

then, you ask him the kind of question people only ask when they’re desperate to keep a piece of someone. “will you remember me?”

the moment the words left you, you almost wished you could take them back. they sounded so small compared to what you really meant. will this matter to you when i’m gone? will i still exist somewhere in you? will i survive in your life after i leave it?

and he looks almost offended by it, but tenderly. like the question broke his heart a little. “don’t ask that.”

“why?”

his jaw tightened just slightly. he looked away for a second, then back at you, and his hand slid from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. “because you know i will.”

it should have settled something in you. but instead, it only made your chest ache harder, because he said it so simply, like it was obvious, like there had never been any possibility that you would not stay with him in some permanent, invisible way.

you started crying, quietly, which was worse than if you had sobbed. he moved closer without a word until your foreheads touched, and you felt him exhale against your lips. his thumb brushed under your eye, catching tears that would only be replaced by more.

“hey,” he murmured, like he was trying to soothe something frightened. little did you know, his heart was breaking into a million pieces at the sight of your tears. “hey.”

you hated that this was happening. you hated that he mattered enough for leaving to feel like being peeled out of your own life. you hated that you had known him for such a short time and somehow, he had made himself essential to you anyway, as if your heart had taken one look at him and made a decision without your permission.

“you make me feel insane,” you whispered, and that made him laugh once, softly, though you could hear the sadness in it.

“i know.”

you let out a shaky breath. “no, i mean it.”

“i know,” he said again, quieter this time.

you stayed like that, forehead to forehead, not kissing, not speaking, just breathing the same air. you could feel his hand trembling just slightly where it held your face, and that nearly broke you more than anything else.

he was trying so hard to be steady for you. trying so hard to keep the moment gentle.

and then, before you could say anything else, before you could decide whether you were brave enough to ruin this with the truth, he said it.

“i love you.”

he didn't dress it up. he didn't hesitate, either. he just said it like it had been waiting there all along, like it had reached the point where staying hidden hurt more than being spoken.

you stared at him, tears coming to a stop from the shock.

for one suspended second, the whole room seemed to go still around you. the traffic outside, the people below, the morning itself—it all receded. there was only his face inches from yours, his eyes searching yours as if he had given you the most fragile thing he had and was waiting to see what you would do with it.

apart of you had always known.

not because either of you had said it, not because you had promised anything, but because of the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. because of how gently he had learned you. because of the way silence with him had never felt empty. because loving him had become the easiest and most dangerous thing you had ever done.

still, hearing it then, with the morning already taking shape around you, with no time left, felt almost unbearable.

your mouth trembled before the words came out. “i love you too.”

he closed his eyes just for a second, like you saying it back had struck somewhere deeper than he had prepared for. then, he kissed you.

not urgently. not desperately. just slowly, with one hand still at your face and the other finding your waist beneath the sheets, holding you as though tenderness itself could become a form of staying. you kissed him back with tears still wet on your cheeks, and he kissed you like he didn't mind them, like grief and love belonged together this morning, and there was no point trying to separate them.

when you pulled apart, you tucked your face into his neck because you couldn't bear the look in his eyes again so soon. his arms came around you immediately, drawing you against his chest until there was no space left between you.

you stayed like that for a long time.

maybe minutes. maybe an hour. time had become strange with him. too fast when you wanted more of it, too slow when you were afraid of what came next.

his hand moved up and down your back in a slow rhythm, and you listened to his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and alive and unfairly calm. you wondered how many mornings from now you would wake and reach for the memory of this one like a bruise. you wondered if loving someone briefly, always felt this permanent.

outside, the city kept waking up. inside, you held each other tighter.

you wanted to tell him not to let you go. you wanted to say you would miss him in ways that would embarrass you if put into words. you wanted to ask him what was going to happen to all this love once there was nowhere for it to go.

instead, you lifted your head and looked at him.

his lashes were still dark with sleep. his hair was a mess. there was a faint mark near his collarbone from where you had kissed him the night before, and seeing it there made something sharp and helpless twist through you. proof. evidence. something to suggest that this had really happened, that he had really been yours for a little while.

you touched it lightly with your fingertips.

he gave you a sad smile. “what?”

you shook your head. “just looking at you.”

his smile deepened, but only barely. “you been doing that a lot.”

“i know.”

“and?”

you tried to answer, but your throat tightened too quickly. he seemed to understand anyway. he always did.

he leaned in and kissed your forehead, then the corner of your eye, then the edge of your mouth; each kiss quiet and deliberate, as if he were trying to leave something behind on your skin that wouldn't fade once you were gone.

you thought, then, that maybe this was what real heartbreak was. not shouting, not drama, not collapse. just this. a soft room. a pale morning. the person you love holding you as if they would keep you if they could, and both of you knowing they cannot.

eventually, you would have to get out of bed. you would have to pack the last of your things and look at him one last time. eventually, one of you would have to leave first.

but not yet. so you curled in closer, and he pulled the blanket higher around you, and you laid there in the fading quiet of your last morning together, saying nothing at all.

because he had already said it. because you had said it back. because sometimes love didn't save you. sometimes it only made losing each other more beautiful.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the time you got to the station, you already hated it.

you hated the crowds. you hated the sound of rolling suitcases over the concrete. you hated the bright board overhead with its neat rows of departures, as if leaving could ever be that simple—just a time, a platform, a destination. you hated the way people moved around you two with coffees in their hands and places to be, like this was an ordinary morning and not the end of something that had changed you down to the bone.

most of all, you hated that he was the one carrying your bags.

they weren't even that heavy, you could have carried it yourself. but he had taken them from you the second you both stepped out of the cab, slinging them over his shoulder without asking, and you had let him because there was something unbearable in watching him do ordinary things for you one last time.

you walked side by side through the station, not touching at first. not because you didn't want to; but because touching made it too real.

the huge glass ceiling let in a pale, washed-out morning light, the kind that made everything look too exposed. people hurried past you in bursts of movement and sound, their voices overlapping with the far announcement of arrivals and departures in a language you had only just begun to grow fond of. somewhere nearby, a child laughed. somewhere else, someone was crying. the whole station was full of motion, of reunion and departure and impatience, and somehow that made your silence feel even heavier.

you kept glancing at him. he looked unfairly composed.

dark jacket. sleep-rumpled hair he had not fully fixed for once. one hand wrapped around the strap of your bags, the other tucked into his pocket. his jaw was set in that quiet way it got when he was feeling more than he wanted anyone to see. if you had not known him by then—if you had not spent weeks learning the smallest shifts in his face, the meanings behind his silences—you might have believed he was calm.

but you knew him. you knew the stillness in him was effort. you knew he was holding himself together with both hands.

once you reached the platform that your ticket read, you both came to a devastating stop. neither of you moved before he glanced at you.

"you okay?" he asked too quietly.

the question was ridiculous. it almost made you laugh. instead, you looked away toward the tracks, blinking too quickly. “no.”

your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. honest in the worst possible way. he was quiet for a second.

then, you felt his hand at the back of your arm, warm and steady, guiding you gently out of the main rush of people and closer to one of the pillars near the platform entrance, where the crowd thinned just enough to let you have the illusion of privacy.

the train was already there. that was the cruel part. it had arrived before you were ready, all silver and blue and humming softly against the platform, as if it had been waiting patiently to take you away from him. you stared at it with immediate resentment.

“don’t look at it like that,” he murmured.

you turned to him. “like what?”

“like you want to fight it.”

despite everything, you let out a small laugh. “i do.”

that made the corner of his mouth lift.

god, you loved him.

you loved him in that moment with such useless force it made your chest feel thin, like your ribs could no longer hold everything inside you properly. you loved the tired softness in his eyes. you loved the way he was trying to make this easier for you even though you could tell it was wrecking him too. you loved that he was standing there pretending to be steadier than he felt because he thought you needed him to be.

but you wished he would stop. you wished he would break with you. yours eyes dropped to your bags still hanging from his shoulder.

“you don’t have to carry that anymore,” you said quietly.

he looked at you for a moment before sliding the straps off and setting the bags beside your feet. neither of you reached for them after that. they sat between you two like another thing waiting to leave.

an announcement crackled overhead, something about boarding, something about time, something you refused to fully listen to. around you two, people began to move with more urgency toward the train doors, the station shifting into that particular rhythm that meant goodbye was no longer theoretical. it was happening. it was here.

you could feel yourself starting to lose the fight against tears again, heavy wads of water pooling at your waterline.

you pressed your lips together and looked down, but that only made it worse, because then all you could see were both of your shoes pointed toward each other on the concrete, close but not touching. ridiculously normal. like any other couple about to say goodbye after a weekend away. like there was any world in which this was casual.

his fingers tipped your chin up. “hey.” that one word nearly shattered you. your eyes met his.

he looked tired now. not sleepy—wrecked. like this morning had finally reached him too. there was something helpless in the way he was looking at you, and you realized then that he did not know how to do this either. he was just better at hiding it.

“i don’t know how to leave you,” you whispered. his hand stayed on your face. for a second, he said nothing. his thumb moved once over your cheekbone, and you could feel how carefully he was trying to breathe.

“i know,” he said at last. that was all. not it’ll be okay. not don’t say that. just the truth.

you let out a shaking breath that turned into a laugh and then almost into a sob. “that’s all you have to say?”

a sad smile touched his mouth. “no.”

“then what?”

his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before lifting back to your eyes. around you, the station kept moving. more footsteps. another announcement. a whistle from somewhere farther down the platform. but inside that small space between you two, everything had gone painfully still. then he said, very quietly, “come here.”

you stepped into him like there had never been another place for you to go, and his arms came around you instantly, hard enough to make your breath catch. it wasn't gentle this time, it was tight.

he held you like someone trying not to lose something already slipping away, one hand spread wide over your back, the other cradling the back of your head, pressing you close into his chest.

you buried your face in his jacket and inhaled. he smelled like cold air, soap, and the cologne you had gotten used to finding on your sheets, your sweaters, on your skin hours after he was gone. familiar already. dangerous already. you wrapped your arms around him and held on as tightly as you could, like there was still some bargain left to make with the universe if you just refused to loosen your grip.

he kissed your hair. then your temple. then he pressed his mouth against the side of your head and just stayed there. you could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy beneath your cheek. so he was not calm. this was ruining him too.

when you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his hands stayed on your waist, like even that small amount of distance was unacceptable. your face was wet. you didn't know when you had started crying again.

he looked at you with that raw, unguarded expression you had only ever seen in private, and something in him seemed to give way.

“listen to me,” he said.

you nodded because you couldn't do anything else. his jaw tightened, and for one terrible second, you thought he might stop there, might decide whatever he wanted to say was too much, too late, too dangerous. but he didn't.

“this doesn’t get to become something small just because it ended fast.”

you stared at him. he swallowed once, hard.

“you don’t get to leave here and act like this was some... pretty little thing that happened to you in another country.” his voice had gone lower, rougher now, emotion breaking through despite himself. “you don’t get to pretend i didn’t—” he stopped, exhaled sharply, then tried again. “you matter to me.”

the tears came harder after that. not because you doubted it.

because hearing him say it so plainly made it real in a way you couldn't protect yourself from. because some part of you had still been afraid that once you stepped onto the train, all of this would begin to dissolve immediately, turning into memory too fast, into something dreamlike and impossible to prove.

but this—his face, his voice, the way his hands trembled slightly at your waist—was proof. you let out a shaky breath. “you matter to me too.”

his eyes searched yours, almost angry with feeling. “too?”

you laughed through tears, and he huffed a breath that might have been a laugh too, despite everything. “i love you,” you said.

you didn't plan on saying it again. maybe you should have saved it. maybe you should have let the morning keep it. but standing there with the train waiting with his hands on you and no future you could point to with certainty, the words rose up all on their own.

his whole face changed— enough for you to see how deeply it landed. he leaned down and kissed you. right there on the platform, with people passing and announcements overhead and the train waiting to take you away from him.

it wasn't a polite goodbye kiss.

it was slow at first, heartbreakingly slow, his hand sliding from your waist to the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw like he needed to feel that you were real for one second longer. then, you kissed him back with all the grief you had, all the love, all the helplessness, and something in the kiss deepened—still tender, still careful, but fuller now, almost desperate beneath the softness. like neither of you knew how to stop once you had started.

when you broke apart, your foreheads touched for half a second. he exhaled against your mouth. “i love you too,” he said.

the words went through you like light through glass. beautiful but sharp, ruining. another boarding announcement sounded. louder this time. final.

you closed your eyes. “no,” you whispered.

he let out the saddest little laugh you had ever heard. “i know.”

he stepped back first, but only barely, his hands sliding slowly from your waist like even that small release cost him something. then he reached down, picked up your bags, and handed it to you.

that nearly hurt more than the kiss. you took them from him with both hands. your fingers brushed his.

"write to me,” you said, even though you knew letters were too slow for feelings like this. even though you knew wanting things didn't make them possible.

“i will.”

“promise?”

his expression tightened. then he nodded once. “yeah. i promise.”

the conductor called for final boarding. this was it.

there should have been some final perfect thing to say. something literary and aching and worthy of the kind of love that had grown too fast and too real between you. but all you could think, looking at him one last time on that crowded platform, was how badly you did not want a world that did not have him standing in front of you.

so, what you said was, “i don’t want to go.”

his eyes flickered shut for the briefest second. when they opened again, they were shining, water threatening to drop from his lash line.

“i know,” he said. then, softer—“but go.” his voice almost cracked.

and that was what broke you. not because it was cold, but because it was love. because he wouldn't ask you to stay if staying would ruin your life. because he loved you enough to let the train take you home.

you kissed him once more, quickly this time because you knew if you made it longer, you would never leave. then you turned before your body could change its mind. he let go of you, the familiar warmth of his body escaping yours for the last time.

you got on the train without looking back at first. because you simply couldn't bear to.

you made it through the door, down the narrow aisle, to the window seat with shaking hands and a pulse so loud you could barely hear anything else. your bags slipped from your shoulder onto the floor. you sat. breathed once. twice. then, you looked up.

he was still there. exactly where you had left him. one hand in his coat pocket, the other hanging by his side. not moving. not pretending to move on yet. just looking up at your window like he could still see you clearly through the glass.

you put your hand up before you could stop yourself. his mouth tightened in that almost-smile you knew so well, the one that always looked like he was feeling too much to fully make it happen. then, he lifted his hand too.

the train jerked beneath you. slowly, painfully, it began to move.

he stayed where he was as the platform started to slide away as the distance opened like a wound between you. you watched him get smaller through the glass, watched the shape of him blur, not because he was too far now, but because your eyes were too full of tears to hold him properly.

still, you kept looking. even after he became only a dark figure among others. even after the platform gave way to tracks and iron beams and the station began to disappear.

you kept looking long after there was nothing left to see.

because some selfish, foolish part of you believed that if you stared hard enough, you could keep him. but the train carried you forward anyway.

and all you could do was sit there with your hand still half-raised, your mouth trembling, and the taste of him still on your lips, thinking the most devastating thought of your life:

you had found him.

and now you were leaving him behind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

an: oh my god this was terribly painful to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did- I've been craving nothing more than to write something incredibly angsty.

update: read epilogue here ♡

✦ ⋆ ࣪.

[97luvz]

WHAT ARE WE?

STARRING … FWB!M. YOONGI X READER

WORD COUNT … 9.7K

SUMMARY … you’ve known yoongi since college—intimately. before the ego and his annoying persona switch. but if he wants to play, fine, you’ll play. it’s your game, and you never lose.

NOTES / WARNINGS … NSFW, MDNI (18+). there are two smut scenes. the first one is oral (m!recieving) and the second is unprotected p in v—also featuring semi-public(? in a sense) sex, oral fixation!reader, andd tattoos. kind of brat!reader x brat tamer!yoongi? jealousyy there is also a lot of jealousy. alcohol use and swearing. suggestive content outside the smut. kind of also reader x hoseok but in the sense she uses hoseok to make yoongi jealous. these two are TOXIC they are not good for each other at all. and i thinkk that’s everything!! if i missed anything let me know <33

ANDDD a super duper special thank you to aqua @glossdebut and april @ggukivrse for beta reading this for me!!!

playlist : sex with me (rihanna). wild thoughts (dj khaled). candy (doja cat). killshot (magdalena bay). crazy girls (toopoor). often (the weeknd). heartbeat (childish gambino). buttons (pussy cat dolls). they wanna fuck (kim petras). nasty (tinashe).

main masterlist. next >

you hate new year’s eve parties.

there was a time you liked the noise and the drinks and the excuse to stay out too late, but that time feels distant now. instead of standing on your friend’s balcony with champagne and fireworks, you let yourself be dragged to a college-but-not party by a guy you’ve fucked with a couple of times.

he’s fine, even if a bit eager, and it’s not like you had better plans.

now you’re stuck on the edge of a cracked couch, a paper straw between your lips and cheap seltzer going flat in your mouth. someone yells from the balcony—ten minutes to midnight.

the guy beside you cheers, his arm heavy over your shoulders. you smile, because it’s easier than shoving him off you, and you take another sip of your drink.

you already know you’re not kissing him tonight.

he’ll try when the countdown starts. he’ll lean in, close enough that it almost hurts when you turn your head at the last second. just enough to remind yourself you still can.

he isn’t the worst. he buys you drinks, and he talks about you when he thinks you’re not listening. he’s new, and you haven’t decided yet if that means anything or how long you’re going to keep him around.

you drain the rest of your cup and stand.

“gonna grab another,” you say.

he grins and doesn’t follow.

the kitchen is brighter than the rest of the apartment. the overhead lights hum, counters crowded with half-empty bottles and a bowl of limes that have gone soft around the edges.

you rinse your cup and fill it again—vodka and soda. the same as always. you take a sip and it tastes like nothing.

and it isn’t just the party.

you think about how often you’ve stood like this lately, drink in hand, nodding along to conversations you don’t care about. rooftop bars. cramped apartments. birthdays you barely remember. smiling when it’s expected, staying just long enough to be seen.

you stay in the kitchen longer than you need to.

you think about tomorrow. about the early train and the elevator ride up to an office that smells of burnt, week-old instant coffee. about emails waiting in your inbox, flagged and tediously long and all somehow urgent. you’ll answer them quickly, you always do.

your job looks good on paper. decent title, better pay than you expected right out of college. your parents like telling people about it. your friends joke that you’ve made it.

most days, you’re coordinating calendars. smoothing egos. making sure the right people are in the right rooms at the right time. you know how to dress for it now, neutral colors and clean lines, hair pulled back so no one has to wonder if you’re serious.

this was supposed to be the trade-off. you wanted to like parties like this because they weren’t work. because no one needed anything from you here. no schedules to manage, no conversations to steer. just noise and bodies and a drink in your hand.

instead, you’re checking your phone.

your friend sends a video—fireworks bursting bright over the city and champagne glasses clinking in the frame, everyone laughing too loud. you watch it twice before locking your screen.

then you catch him in your periphery.

dark hair first. longer than the last time you saw him, falling into his eyes. he’s leaning against the doorway between rooms, one shoulder to the wall, posture easy in a way that feels new.

yoongi.

of course he’s here.

you don’t think, you just move, confidence sliding back into place like it never left. you angle yourself into his line of sight and say his name like it’s casual.

“yoongi, hey.”

his eyes lift, pausing. then they soften, just a little.

“hey,” he says back, slow.

you lean in, close enough to smell something sweet and sharp. you glance at his drink and smirk. “didn’t peg you for a moscato guy.”

his mouth twitches. “it’s not mine.”

that’s when she speaks.

“he’s holding it for me.”

you blink and look to his other side.

she’s pressed pretty close, hand looped around his wrist, nails painted dark. pretty, in an effortless way. she meets your eyes with a polite smile that lingers a beat too long.

something tightens low in your stomach.

oh.

yoongi shifts then, just slightly, fully aware of the change in the air—and you can tell he’s enjoying it more than you appreciate. his arm stays where it is. he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t explain.

“right,” you say, sweet. “my bad.”

his gaze doesn’t leave your face. there’s amusement there. something sharper underneath. oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“you good?” he asks, voice mild.

you tilt your head, letting your eyes drag over him slow and unapologetic. “always.”

he hums like he doesn’t believe you.

the girl’s fingers tighten around his wrist. she leans in closer, like she’s staking a claim. you clock it immediately. something sharp flickers behind your eyes and you turn to her with a smile that’s all teeth.

“you know,” you say lightly, voice smooth as spilled liquor, “the kitchen’s brighter if you’re trying to find a clean glass. less… crowded.”

she blinks and laughs, a little unsure. “i’m good.”

“are you?” you ask, still smiling. “because it kind of looks like you’re waiting for something that’s not happening.”

silence stretches, and yoongi exhales through his nose.

she lets go of his wrist, lips pressing thin. her eyes flick back to you, annoyed and embarrassed. “wow,” she mutters. “okay. didn’t realize.”

you shrug. “it’s a common mistake.”

she leaves without another word, disappearing into the living room and out the door a minute later. the space she vacates feels louder than the music.

yoongi turns to you slowly. he doesn’t look angry. if anything, he looks inconvenienced.

“you done?” he asks.

you laugh under your breath. “did you not see the way she was clinging to you?”

“mm,” he says. “and?”

“since when are you fucking other people?” it slips out sharper than you mean it to.

yoongi’s mouth quirks. “you just scared off my night,” he says after a moment.

you meet his gaze, pulse ticking up despite yourself. “you’ll survive.”

yoongi tips his head, brow half lifted. “you gonna make it up to me?”

you snort. “for what? your dick not getting wet?”

“i was working on it.”

“should’ve worked harder.”

yoongi laughs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “oh, you’re cute.”

your lips press flat, arms crossing over your chest as you level him with a look. “cute? you’re so gross.”

“you didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“didn’t want to watch you pretend you were interested,” you shoot back. “it was embarrassing.”

he tilts his head, eyes flicking over you like he’s cataloguing something. “so. what dick brought you here?”

you scoff, a soft sound that barely cuts through the music. “wow. straight to it, huh?”

young shrugs, casual. “just curious. figured someone had to drag you out.”

“maybe i came on my own.”

“please.” he snorts. “you hate parties.”

“i hate bad parties.”

“answer the question.”

you roll your eyes, turning your cup in your hand. “does it matter?”

“a little.”

you look at him then, at the way his mouth is already half-curved, irritating and all too familiar. annoying in the way only he ever manages.

“some guy from work,” you say. “happy?”

“thrilled,” he replies flatly. then, after a beat, “he still here?”

“i don’t know.”

his eyes flick past you, scanning the room. “you ditch him?”

“i didn’t ditch him,” you say, eyes fixed on the swirl at the bottom of your cup. “i just decided to explore. party’s not that big.”

yoongi grunts, gaze flicking over you, quick and sharp. “didn’t think you got bored that fast.”

“wasn’t bored,” you say with pause, pressing your lips together—lie. “didn’t want to sit around and watch the clock with someone who can’t hold a conversation.”

his mouth quirks. “must be tough. all that effort for nothing.”

“hardly.” you shift your weight, scanning the counter for something better to do with your hands. “can’t say i’m missing much.”

the corner of yoongi’s mouth lifts again, barely there. “so what, you need a midnight kiss now?”

you don’t bother looking at him. “i’d rather fuck a cactus.”

“harsh.”

you swirl the ice in your cup, tapping it against the counter. “don’t see you lining up for anything better.”

he leans in, voice dropping low. “don’t have to. there’s always someone.”

“congrats,” you say, rolling your eyes. “hope she gives you a rash.”

he laughs under his breath, soft and unbothered. “jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

jealous? jealous? what does he think you have to be jealous of? the fact that he’s fucking? well, that’s good for him—shameless, and kind of blatant, but good for him. you don’t need to be jealous. you’ve got others. you’ve always had others. the only reason you fucked yoongi in the first place was because he was a stupid loser with a big dick and—

“hit a nerve?”

your jaw tics, teeth pressed tight, but you school your expression easy. “you wish.”

yoongi’s gaze lingers, all patience and slow calculation. “you’re the one getting defensive.”

you shrug, casual, bored. “just tired of hearing you talk out of your ass.”

he smirks, eyes drifting lazy down your face. “could’ve fooled me.”

you laugh, short and cold. “it’s cute you think i care. seriously.”

yoongi pushes off the counter, mouth pulling into that crooked, half-bored smile. “think i’ll go find myself a midnight kiss, then.”

you lift your chin, unbothered. “go wild. i’m gonna find a cactus.”

he huffs, something almost like a laugh slipping out. “let me know how that works out.”

“don’t wait up,” you say, already turning toward the fridge for something stronger.

he lingers for a beat, eyes focusing on you a little too long, then heads out, disappearing back into the noise and bodies.

you watch his retreating figure, stubbornness burning hot under your skin. fine. if he wants to play that game, you can play it too. you leave the kitchen, shoving your empty cup into a trash bag on the way out.

you don’t bother searching. you aren’t looking for anyone in particular, just someone to keep your hands busy, your mind even busier.

it’s then you spot hoseok, head thrown back in laughter and a hand curled around a half-finished drink. he doesn’t see you right away, too caught up in someone else’s joke.

you met hoseok through yoongi in college—some house party, someone’s birthday, you don’t remember the details. he was easy to fall in with, and even easier to keep around. he was your main fuck for a while, reliable and always down for whatever. no questions, no drama, nothing complicated.

recently though, it’s been quieter. your messages thin, late replies, you making up excuses to cancel plans you used to agree to in excess. not that it matters. hoseok always understood how things worked, how you worked. if you needed something, he was there. if you didn’t, he faded easy, no pressure.

you cut across the room, weaving through clusters of strangers until you’re standing close enough to hoseok to smell the gin on his breath and the salt on his skin. he catches your eye and grins, wide and easy, already reading your intentions.

“hey, stranger,” he says, voice pitched low enough for only you. his hand finds your hip without missing a beat, thumb rubbing circles through the fabric.

you tip your chin up, lips brushing close to his ear. “miss me?”

hoseok laughs, all teeth, the sound vibrating against your throat when you press in. “thought you were too busy for me these days.”

“i make time for the important things.” your fingers trail down his chest, slow and obvious, letting him know exactly what you’re after.

he hums, eyes glinting. “you want to get out of here or…?”

you lean in, breath hot against his jaw. “or.”

your eyes flick over hoseok’s shoulder, scanning the room for a flash of dark hair. just checking, curious if he’s paying attention.

hoseok’s hand slides bolder under your shirt, thumb tracing heat along your skin. you let him, lean into it, but your gaze still wanders, restless.

“hey,” you murmur, dragging your mouth up to his ear, “you want to be my midnight kiss?”

“midnight kiss?” he echoes, voice low. “thought you’d never ask.”

you smile, slow and wicked, nails digging into his side. “don’t insult me.”

you catch him across the room, half-shadowed with a girl tucked against his side. his gaze drifts, just for a second, before it lands on you. and it stays there.

you keep your eyes locked on yoongi, then, slow, you drag your tongue up the side of hoseok’s neck. hoseok shudders, his grip tightening, a curse falling hot against your ear.

yoongi doesn’t move. his mouth twitches into a sharp almost-smile. the girl at his side says something, tugging at his sleeve, but he barely looks at her.

hoseok leans in, pressing his mouth to your jaw, hungry and eager, but you barely register it. your attention stays on yoongi, letting the moment stretch until satisfaction curls cold and sweet in your chest.

someone shouts from the kitchen room—ten, nine, eight. voices tangle together, filling the apartment, the countdown swelling until it drowns out the music.

hoseok’s hand curls tighter around your waist. you tilt your head, let your hair fall just right, gaze slipping back to yoongi. he hasn’t moved, the girl still pressed against his side, her hand on his chest, lips already pouting in expectation.

seven, six, five.

yoongi’s eyes are locked on you. you can feel it, the dare humming between bodies and distance. you arch closer to hoseok, fingers sliding through his hair.

four, three, two.

hoseok grins, warm and eager, hands everywhere. you drop yoongi’s gaze, and then you kiss hoseok—slow and filthy, a show you know isn’t subtle. his mouth is eager, all tongue and teeth. you moan into it, letting him take.

one.

across the room, yoongi finally looks away, mouth a flat line, ignoring the girl tugging at his sleeve. you feel something twist sharp and mean in your chest. you pull hoseok in again, chasing the taste of victory. he can’t win your game.

the party’s thinned out by now, the edge of a smirk still settled on your lips. hoseok is gone, off to find another drink or maybe another mouth. it doesn’t matter anyway, you got what you wanted.

you check your phone. three missed messages, a blurry group photo, someone’s number you don’t recognize. you slide it away, half-bored, still glowing with the satisfaction that’s been sitting warm in your chest since midnight.

you turn toward the door, but yoongi’s there already, silent, blocking your exit. his jaw is set, lips pursed, and the look in his eyes does little to douse the smug fire in your chest.

he leans in, voice pitched low. “you think you’re cute?”

you let the silence hang for a beat, obnoxiously, then flash him a smug, deliberate smile. “i know i am.”

he studies you, eyes sweeping over your swollen lips and the mark hoseok left on your neck. “that supposed to make me jealous?”

you just shrug, lazy, the victory still sharp in your mouth. “doesn’t matter. was fun for me.”

yoongi’s lips twitch, something sharp and mocking underneath. “real cute,” he says, voice rough. “thought you were leaving with hoseok.”

you slide your phone into your pocket, eyes never leaving his. “didn’t come with him. why would i leave with him?”

he steps closer, gaze dropping, lingering where hoseok’s hands had been. “hm. you showed up tonight planning to get fucked, though.”

heat curls up your spine, but you don’t look away. “never had any trouble in that area.”

yoongi leans in, breath warm against your cheek. “you owe me, remember,” he says, voice quiet but certain. he tips his head toward the darkened hallway, the hush of a bedroom just out of sight.

you snort, mouth twitching. “i don’t owe you shit.”

his smile sharpens. “no?” he murmurs, hand sliding to your jaw, grip steady. “you didn’t scare off my girl? didn’t kiss hoseok desperately trying to get my attention?”

you open your mouth, ready with another smart remark, but his thumb slips past your lips, pressing down on your tongue and shutting you up in an instant.

his gaze doesn’t waver, pupils blown wide and his eyes fixed on yours. “you gonna brat or you gonna listen?” he asks, tone flat. “nod if you want to pay what you owe. shake your head if you’d rather leave.”

you nod, slow and sure, mouth still wrapped around his thumb.

his mouth curls, low and dangerous. “good girl,” yoongi murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “follow me.”

he turns, and you trail after him down the hall, pulse tapping sharp at your throat. he pushes open the door to a darkened room, barely flicking on the lamp before glancing back at you.

you step inside, glancing around. “do you even know whose bed this is?”

“spare room,” he says, jaw tight, hands already at your hips.

you raise a brow, leaning into the challenge. “oh yeah? and how would you know?”

yoongi’s grip tightens, pulling you closer. “shut the fuck up,” he growls, voice rough at the edges, “and put that mouth to better use.”

one hand slides up to tangle in your hair, gentle only in the way he guides you down, the other reaching back to close the door with a dull click.

you let your knees hit the carpet, back straight and hands braced at your thighs. there’s a familiar ache in the way you look up at him, chest rising and lips parted, his gaze dropping heavy.

he’s always looked good from this angle. a little too composed at first, but it never lasts. it never takes long to have him coming undone for you, losing that careful control to make way for something raw.

his fingers tighten just enough to send a pulse through your scalp, tilting your head so your eyes stay on him. you watch the way he breathes, the way his jaw flexes.

your hand slides up, fingers curling around his belt. before you can even start to undo it, yoongi swats your hand away, sharp.

“use your teeth,” he says, voice low and mocking.

you snort. “fuck no.”

his mouth quirks, all challenge. “what, can’t handle it? thought you were good with your mouth.”

you glare, but you lean in anyway, teeth scraping along the leather, fumbling with the buckle.

yoongi’s laugh is quiet and smug, the sound vibrating in the air above you. “struggling?” he teases. “don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

you huff, glaring up at him, but the belt doesn’t budge. he watches for another moment, savoring it, then reaches down with a hand to unfasten the metal with a quiet click. the leather slides loose with a whisper, and his pants drop not long after.

“knew you couldn’t do it,” he murmurs, looking down at you. “good thing you’re better at other things.”

his hand returns to your hair, a firmer grip this time, guiding your mouth where he wants it. “open up, brat. show me what you’re actually good for.”

you bite down on a smirk, letting your lips brush along the waistband of his underwear, slow and taunting. yoongi’s fingers flex in your hair, a low warning thrumming through his touch.

you drag the band down, teeth scraping lightly at his hip, letting the elastic snap back against his skin. he groans, low and impatient, hips shifting forward. it’s a little clumsy, mouth brushing his skin as you work the fabric. the head of his cock springs free, flushed and already leaking, heavy against his thigh. 

“quit fucking around,” yoongi mutters, voice rough. “hurry up.”

you glance up, lashes fluttering, all innocent. “thought you’d liked it if i’m thorough. you know, take my time.”

his grip tightens, guiding your head closer. “i like it better when you do as you’re told.”

you ignore him, lips ghosting feather-light over his cock. you flick your tongue out, kitten licking at the tip, catching the bead of precum and swirling it across the sensitive head. your lips follow, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft, pausing to suck lightly at the base before trailing back up.

yoongi’s jaw tightens, a curse slipping out between clenched teeth. “stop teasing, or i’ll fuck your throat ‘til you cry.”

you hum, lips curling against his skin. “maybe that’s what i want.”

yoongi’s mouth twists, dark with challenge. “if you won’t do it, i’ll just find someone who will.”

that snaps something hot and mean inside you. before he can even finish, you dig your nails into his thigh, glare burning up at him. “shut up,” you bite out, voice low.

your lips part and you take him in, no teasing now. you choke a little, jaw aching, spit already pooling at the corners of your mouth. his hand stays heavy in your hair, the sharp edge of his threat making you work harder, desperate to wipe that smug look off his face.

he hisses, hips twitching, the arrogance faltering as you suck him down again and again, tongue pressing along the vein at the underside.

“fuck—there you go,” he groans, voice rough and wild. “knew you just needed some encouragement. such a good fucking girl.”

you hum, messy and open, spit slicking his cock, eyes locked on his as you swallow him whole.

you take him deep, nose pressing flush to his curls, trimmed and soft against your face, his cock heavy and hot at the back of your throat. yoongi’s head falls back, a ragged groan torn free as you swallow around him, letting him feel every squeeze and drag.

yoongi’s voice drops, thick and rough. “fuck. filthy little thing. look at you, desperate for cock, making a mess on my dick.”

you pull back just enough for air, spit stringing between your lips and his flushed head. then you suck him in again, messy and wet, tongue working him over. your hands grip his thighs, nails biting, using the leverage to take him even deeper the next time, choking a little.

his hand stays heavy in your hair, guiding. “knew you’d shut up when you had something better to do with that bratty mouth,” he grits out. “keep going. show me how much you love being used.”

your jaw aches but you don’t stop, locked in, spit dribbling down your chin as you take him again and again.

yoongi swears again, voice cracked open and desperate now. “gonna make me cum if you keep—fuck, keep doing that—”

your nails dig into his skin, and you take him even deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat again and again until your eyes sting. every time you come up for breath, it’s just enough to spit on the head and swallow him all over again, more vicious than before.

yoongi’s breath starts to hitch, hips jerking just slightly despite the way his hand clenches tight in your hair, trying to ground himself. his head tips back again, throat working around a groan, voice low and ragged. “fuck—don’t stop. don’t fucking stop—”

then he goes still.

his cock twitches against your tongue, lips parting around a soft, choked sound when it hits. he cums with a broken groan, hot and thick against the back of your throat. his hand holds you there, buried deep, your nose pressed to his pelvis as you swallow around it

yoongi’s whole body shudders.

you pull back only when you’re sure he’s spent, lips swollen and chin wet, the taste of him still heavy on your tongue. he looks down at you, eyes glassy, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything.

then, hoarse and wrecked, he exhales: “fuck.”

yoongi runs a hand through his hair, chest still rising hard with each breath, then calmly reaches down and pulls his pants up.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, still on your knees, watching him with narrowed eyes.

he glances down at you, belt hanging loose in his hand. “well,” he says, tilting his head. “looks like you paid what you owed.”

your brows pull together, mouth tugging into a sour twist. “fuck off.”

yoongi just grins, eyes gleaming with victory. “if you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask.”

your stare sharpens. you don’t move. don’t give him anything.

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “nah? too proud?” he clicks his tongue once, backing toward the door, still buckling his belt. “then good luck finding your dick of the night.”

he opens the door, glancing back just once.

“hope he knows what he’s doing.”

and then he’s gone, leaving you there, flushed and pissed and entirely ready to kill him the next time you see his stupid face.

you show up to work the next day moody, a headache already pulsing behind your eyes before you’ve even made it through the revolving doors. your heels feel too loud against the marble floor, the fluorescent lighting a personal attack.

jen spots you immediately, holding a takeaway cup and leaning against the security desk with the kind of posture that suggests she didn’t spend the night getting drunk, throat-fucked and then subsequently emotionally whiplashed.

“yikes,” she says with a grin, eyes raking over your face.

“that generous?” you mutter, pulling your lanyard out of your bag and flashing your badge to the scanner.

she falls in step beside you as you head for the elevators. “so? how was it? the party? the new year? did you make out with anyone worth remembering or…?”

you press the button, eyes fixed ahead. “i’m hoping it’s not an indication of how the rest of my year is going to go.”

jen lets out a low whistle. “wow. that bad?”

you don’t answer. the elevator dings open. and thankfully, for now, she doesn’t push.

she’s always been good at that, knowing when to dig and when to leave you alone. you don’t have it in you to rehash the night, not when your stomach still twists just thinking about it.

the hangover’s bad, but the mood’s worse.

you’d already left the party pissed, but what made it worse was the message. the first one you’d gotten from him in ages. no “did you get home?” no “still mad?” not even a meme or a fuck you.

well, it was a fuck you.

a picture, his back in the frame, caught in a mirror selfie. red scratch marks dragged down his skin in angry, scored lines.

no text. didn’t need any.

your stomach had dropped when you opened it, the kind of petty, sharp twist that left your chest hot and your throat dry. it wasn’t jealousy. it wasn’t. it was the fact that he knew exactly what it would do to you, and he’d done it anyway.

fucking prick.

the elevator doors ding open. you blink against the light and step out with jen, trying to pull yourself together before anyone else in the office can clock your sour state.

she glances sideways at you, sipping her coffee. “we should do something fun after work. alcohol-free, i promise.”

you raise a brow, skeptical.

“there’s some grunge thing happening at the rec tonight. underground gig, shitty lighting, probably smells like sweat and weed. could be fun.”

you grunt. “i just want to get through the day without stabbing anyone.”

jen hums, completely unbothered. “okay, fair.”

you think that’s the end of it, but as you swipe your badge at the office door, she adds, sing-song: “you don’t really have a choice, though.”

you shoot her a look.

she smiles sweetly, already halfway down the hallway. “i’m texting you the details. wear something cute.”

you don’t break stride. “bite me.”

she just laughs, disappearing down the hall.

you round the corner and head toward your desk, just trying to keep your head down. but of course, life has other intentions.

“morning!” bright-eyed and eager—jeon jungkook, your intern.

“morning,” you say, clipped but polite.

“you look, uh, nice today,” he says, grin a little too hopeful.

“thanks,” you nod, eyes already scanning the desk behind him. “do you have the file i requested ready for the client handover?”

he blinks, faltering for a second before recovering. “almost! just need to double check the last couple of—”

“cool,” you say, walking past him without breaking stride. “get it to me before eleven.”

you don’t look back. he’s sweet, or whatever. maybe if it were a different morning, you’d indulge the attention. flirt back, have a little fun. but today? today you don’t have it in you.

you reach your desk, drop into your chair, and stare at your monitor.

god. you need caffeine. or a lobotomy. whatever works faster.

you power on your computer with a sigh, the screen flickering to life while your inbox refreshes in a sluggish crawl. emails pile in—flagged, urgent, cc’d unnecessarily—none of them worth the mounting ache in your temples.

you reach for the pen on your desk, pop the cap off with your teeth, and leave it there, balanced between your lips as your fingers start working the keyboard.

you know you should focus. know there are reports due and a client call at noon, and your calendar’s already booked solid with back-to-back meetings you barely remember accepting.

but you’re mad. you’re mad and it sits under your skin like a slow burn.

the cursor blinks on your screen. the spreadsheet refuses to load fast enough. you chew on the pen cap harder, jaw tense, hand clenched around your mouse like it personally wronged you.

does yoongi think he’s better than you or something?

because he’s not.

not with his smug little text. not with scratch marks down his back like he’s so fucking proud of being someone else’s temporary distraction like it makes him special.

it doesn’t.

he’s still the same yoongi from college. same one who’d drop everything at a text. the one who’d show up at 2am with a pack of marlboros and a condom just because you sent “u up?” and a half-assed location pin. just because he’s got game now doesn’t change that.

not the chain around his neck, or the girls in gloss shirts clawing at his back like it means something. he’s not better than you.

you bite down harder on the pen cap, that familiar heat creeping back up your neck, something hot and bruising under your ribs. you click through another tab, jaw tight, pretending the sharp taste in your mouth is caffeine withdrawal. not jealousy. never jealousy.

you try to sneak off after work without running into jen. you love her, you do. she’s been your work wife since day two. but tonight you could do with quiet. no crowd, no fake grunge scene, no well-meaning questions about what happened at the party last night?

“where do you think you’re going?”

you hear jen before you even see her, voice cutting clean through the after-work shuffle as you make a beeline for the lobby doors.

you pick up your pace.

“hey—hey!” she calls, heels clicking faster against tile as she hurries to catch up. “don’t think i didn’t see that weak little speed-walk. you trying to ditch me?”

you sigh, defeated, turning just enough to glance back. “i wasn’t—”

“great. so we’re on for tonight,” jen says cheerfully. “i’ll come to yours to get ready.”

your brow pulls. “what about your car?”

“took an uber.”

you stare. “why?”

“my fiancé has the car,” jen says, shrugging casually.

your face twists. “he doesn’t have his own?”

“he’s working on it,” she replies, a little too quickly.

you scoff. “right. just like he’s working on getting a job. and working on applying to uni. and working on figuring out what the fuck he’s doing with his life.”

jen exhales through her nose, already regretting mentioning it.

“when does it end?” you ask, half-laughing. “car? working on it. career? working on it. higher education? not in the cards, but always a possibility. what are you dating, a project with no deadline?”

“okay,” jen mutters, pulling her coat tighter. “tonight isn’t about our love lives.”

you raise a brow.

“it’s not!” she insists, bumping her shoulder into yours. “it’s about two best friends, dressing hot, doing eyeliner in bad lighting, and having a night for themselves.”

you give her a look, skeptical with your lips pressed thin, but you don’t argue.

because yeah. maybe she’s right. maybe tonight shouldn’t be about your love lives.

especially not yours.

you’re not willing to dissect that in the car on the way to a DIY punk show with a girl who still calls her fiancé’s unemployment a “path into self-discovery.”

so instead, you let her bump your shoulder again, this time with a grin, and you exhale through your nose in something that might resemble a laugh.

“fine,” you mutter. “bad lighting, bad eyeliner, no feelings.”

“no feelings,” jen agrees, holding up a pinky like you’re two girls in high school.

you roll your eyes but hook yours with hers anyway. “we’re gonna regret this.”

“absolutely,” she says, already climbing into the passenger seat. “but at least we’ll be hot about it.”

your place is quiet when you arrive, walking into the dim lighting. the walls are clean, the furniture modern, the view wide and glittering from the floor-to-ceiling windows. a little too clean to feel lived in, but it’s home. or close enough.

“ugh,” jen groans dramatically, kicking off her boots by the door. “i forgot how much i love your place.”

you set your keys down on the kitchen counter, unwrapping your scarf. “one day you’ll have one of your own.”

“please.” she flops onto the sectional, limbs everywhere. “there’s no way i’m climbing any ladder. not unless the ladder’s attached to a sugar daddy’s yacht.”

you snort, pulling open the fridge to grab a seltzer. “maybe your fiancé will help you climb.”

“yeah,” she calls, already scrolling through something on her phone. “if it’s one of those ladders that’s missing half the rungs and wobbles when you step on it.”

you hum, sipping slowly as you lean against the counter. outside, the city glows faint and hazy, a view you still haven’t gotten used to. you don’t say anything for a second, just watch the lights.

“he’ll figure it out,” you say eventually, neutral.

jen laughs, dry and fond. “you’re a terrible liar.”

you both laugh. it echoes through the apartment, warm against the polished tile and glass.

“alright,” jen says, sitting up with a dramatic sigh, “show me to the glam station. i’m about to bless the public with my presence.”

you roll your eyes and start toward your bedroom. “you don’t even have a change of clothes.”

“that’s because,” she says, already trailing after you, “i’m gonna be raiding your closet.”

you glance back, dry. “of course you are.”

“duh. you’re the one with cut v-necks and slutty miniskirts. i’m just here to accessorize.”

you gesture toward the wardrobe, stepping aside. “go nuts. just don’t touch the leather pants.”

jen’s already digging, gleeful. “oh, honey. those are exactly what i’m touching.”

you groan and grab your makeup bag, dragging it onto the vanity with the resigned air of someone who knows they’ve already lost this round.

“loud night and sexy clothes,” jen sing-songs.

“no feelings,” you mutter back, pulling out your eye liner pencil and uncapping it with your teeth.

you’re both standing in your bedroom now, surrounded by open drawers and half-zipped makeup bags. the bluetooth speaker hums with bass from someone who probably peaked in 2016, and you’re working your eyeliner on autopilot, head tilted toward the mirror and mouth slack.

jen’s seated cross-legged on the floor, still rifling through your tops like she pays rent. “okay,” she says, holding one up, “this or the mesh one?”

you squint. “mesh.”

“bless.”

she tosses the other aside and starts peeling off her sweater. you glance back at her, brow lifted. “no shame, huh?”

“none,” she says, unbothered.

you shake your head, grin tugging at your mouth despite everything.

the prep unfolds in pieces. lipsticks swatched on the back of your hand, jen cursing because she forgot her mascara and using yours like it’s not $60 a tube. her leaning in, helping you fix your wing without asking. you letting her.

it’s simple. and for the first time all day, your head stops spinning. the weight of all of it fades into the background hum of music and shitty banter.

“you done?” you ask, dabbing gloss on your lips.

jen gives herself a once-over in the mirror, then nods. “we look so good.”

you grab your coat. “good.”

you don’t say it, but tonight, you want to be hard to touch and harder to look away from. let someone else fall apart for once.

the rec smells like beer, sweat, and something that might be mildew but you’re too scared to confirm. the floor’s sticky, and there’s a questionable puddle by the entrance that you had to hop over just to keep your boots clean.

“why are we here,” you say flatly.

jen grins, unaffected, already bouncing on the balls of her feet. “because it’s gonna be fun.”

you squint. “define fun.”

“loud music, poor decisions, hot strangers—”

“you’re engaged.”

“you’re not,” she chirps.

you sigh, adjusting your jacket and scanning for the nearest exit in case you need to disappear mid-set. “what time does this start?”

jen checks her phone, thumbs flicking through a text. “five minutes.”

“cool.” you say it without inflection. not cool.

someone bumps into you with a plastic cup of warm beer, already slurring through their apology.

you look at jen again. she’s glowing. you are… not.

you’re halfway through mentally drafting your exit plan—blaming a stomach ache or a work thing, maybe a fake call from your boss—when you spot him.

“hoseok?”

he turns at the sound of your voice, already mid-laugh with someone you don’t recognize. his grin widens when he sees you, bright as ever. “no fucking way.”

you blink. “what are you doing here?”

“playing,” he says, casual. “we’re the gig.”

“what—seriously?”

“yeah.” he steps aside and gestures toward the stage, where namjoon’s fiddling with cables, sleeves pushed up, focused as hell. “gloss. remember?”

you shake your head, still a little stunned. “cool.”

then it hits you.

gloss is yoongi’s band. which means if gloss is here, yoongi is somewhere in this building.

your stomach flips.

you scan the crowd like it might spit him out at your feet. but all you get is bodies and flashing lights and the dull thump of the soundcheck.

you retreat, finding by the bar, mid-sip of something fluorescent and fizzy, talking to a guy in a fishnet shirt about which bands sound better live. you grab her arm without a word.

“we have to go,” you say, low and fast. “we have to go.”

she blinks, startled. “what? why?”

“because we do.”

“absolutely not.” she plants her feet. “we just got here. what’s got your panties so twisted?”

you freeze long enough for her to narrow her eyes, suspicious. but you school your face fast.

“nothing,” you lie. “it’s just—this venue’s gross.”

“oh, come on,” she groans. “you can survive one night. it’s not like we’re sleeping on the floor.”

you shift your weight, eyes scanning the crowd again. “i don’t want to be here.”

“you’re gonna feel different once the band starts,” she says, all smiles again. “they’re super cool. some indie group called gloss or something—”

“i know,” you snap before you can catch yourself.

jen pauses. eyebrows lift. “…do you? do you even know what it stands for?”

you blink. “what?”

“it stands for get loud or stay small, and they literally live in our city, which i personally think is totally cool—”

you cross your arms. “was this just an excuse to see them?”

her face goes very still for a half-second too long. then, “what? no!”

you narrow your eyes.

“i just—” she shrugs, sheepish. “i didn’t know they were playing until last night. figured it’d be fun.”

“right.”

you look away, jaw tight.

she’s still talking, still fanning herself over how hot the bassist is supposed to be—spoiler, that’s yoongi—but you’re already pissed all over again.

not just at her. at the fact that you came out tonight to forget about him, and instead you walked into his fucking stage.

“you okay?” jen asks, tone shifting a little.

you force a breath out through your nose. “i’m fine.”

“you sure? i mean—if you hate it, we can go. seriously.”

you look past her and toward the stage. the instruments are set, lights warming up, the crowd inching closer.

you swallow. “no. it’s fine.”

jen grins, unaware. “god, i’m so excited. i hope they play that one song that went semi-viral last year. you know, the one about getting fingered in a—”

you let out a sound that’s half laugh, half disbelief. “yeah. sure, just shut up.”

and then the lights go down and the crowd roars, and it’s too late to leave.

you don’t breathe.

four figures step out, one by one. first jin, then namjoon, then hoseok, and jen is squealing, clutching your arm while bouncing on her toes.

and last comes yoongi.

black shirt torn and distressed, a lazy hand wrapped around his mic. he doesn’t wave. doesn’t smile.

“we’re gloss,” he says, voice low and scratchy through the reverb. “let’s make tonight loud, yeah?”

the crowd screams louder. the drums kick in.

jen grabs your hand, dragging you toward the stage.

you let her, but you don’t pretend you’re here for the music. you don’t even pretend you’re here for the thrill.

the screaming is near-deafening.

a gaggle of girls beside you, all gloss-branded shirts and glitter gel eyeliner, bounce in synchrony, shrieking their names like they’re giving out backstage passes for each decibel. one of them cups her hands to her mouth, shouting “hoseok, i love you!” over the bassline.

you don’t roll your eyes, but it’s close.

instead, you lean in the direction of the stage. wait for just the right moment, when hoseok looks up, scanning the crowd with that wide, feral grin of his.

and then you blow him a kiss.

hoseok catches it mid-air like a cheeseball, pausing mid-riff, fingers curling around the phantom kiss before he winks. doesn’t even try to be subtle.

you smile sweetly at him. then, just to twist the knife, you turn to the girl beside you and wink at her too.

her jaw drops.

you shrug, giving her a faux pout before turning back to the stage.

the music isn’t bad, necessarily. you’ve just heard better. something about it feels try-hard in that post-ironic, “we’re too cool to care” way.

and the worst part?

yoongi.

because he’s not even pretending to take it seriously. lounging behind the keyboard like he’s at soundcheck, smirking every time one of his many fangirls screams his name. he tosses them winks and half-assed kissy faces.

then one of them flashes him.

you blink, then blink again, and watch as that stupid grin spreads across his face like he’s so proud of himself.

jen is too busy staring at hoseok to notice your jaw tighten. something has to be done.

your options are limited. the stage is barely elevated, the lighting is shit, and the air is heavy with sweat and vape clouds. but if yoongi gets to wink at every half-naked girl in the front row like he’s the second coming of trent reznor, you get to have your moment too.

you hook your thumbs into your waistband. just a little. just enough.

there’s a lull in the song—something atmospheric, the drums fading out and the guitar slowing to a thrum—and that’s when you do it.

tilt your hips, dip your fingers. drag the band of your jeans down just far enough to show off the ink that curls low beneath your navel.

something new. something he hasn’t seen.

you let the crowd swallow the moment, everyone too focused on jin’s voice to notice you pulling it taut, holding it, and then—

snap.

the waistband slaps back into place.

you don’t break eye contact.

yoongi does, just long enough to prove he saw and that it worked.

the set eventually ends, mercifully. jen’s still clapping, starry-eyed. you lean over, already pulling your phone from your back pocket.

“i’m gonna head out. you coming with?”

“oh.” she blinks, then glances around. “no, it’s okay, i’ll just uber home.”

“sure?” you ask, and you nod when she nods. “okay, cool.”

she hugs you tight and you squeeze her back, eyes already on the exit sign. you’re halfway toward it when—

“hey.”

you turn.

hoseok.

his skin’s glistening with leftover stage sweat, hair pushed back. there’s something magnetic about him when he’s like this, when his his adrenaline hasn’t quite faded and his pupils are still blown a little wide.

“wanna come chill backstage?” he asks, voice low and easy.

you raise a brow. “oh? like one of your groupies?”

he laughs, eyes crinkling. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling, and you say yes. stupidly. because you’re still feeling smug and petty. might as well keep riding it.

the backstage room is cramped and noisy and hot, some folding chairs, half a couch and a mini fridge buzzing in the corner.

you step in behind hoseok, ducking your head a little when the crowd parts.

“guys,” he calls out, tossing his water bottle onto a crate, “brought a friend.”

“ohh,” jin drawls from the couch, broad-shouldered and messy-haired. he looks you over, smiling, eyes a little hazy. “so this is the one, huh?”

you blink. “i—sorry?”

“ignore him,” hoseok says. “jin’s like this with everyone.”

you nod politely. “hey. first time hearing you perform.”

“and?” he leans forward, chin in palm.

“music’s not really my thing,” you say flatly. “but the energy was good.”

he barks a laugh. “damn. brutal.”

you shrug.

joon’s in the corner, wiping down his drumsticks. he glances over and offers a nod. you return it—it’s familiar, even if not exactly warm. same major, different circles. his gaze lingers for a second before he goes back to his gear.

and then yoongi.

his back’s against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, bottle of something brown dangling lazily from his fingers. there’s a towel slung around his neck, shirt damp with sweat. he doesn’t say anything when you enter, but his eyes track you, sharp and unreadable.

you pretend not to notice.

yoongi lets out a low whistle, head tilting as he eyes your jeans with a little too much interest.

“the ink. it new?” he mutters.

you shrug, turning slightly as if to better show it off. “got it a few months ago.”

“got another one?” hoseok asks, grin already widening.

you glance back at him over your shoulder, then hook your thumbs into the back of your waistband, tugging it down slow. “wanna see?”

yoongi shifts where he sits.

you tip your hips just enough to show the curve of another tattoo, stamped bold and permanent at the small of your back.

“matching set,” you hum. “cute, right?”

hoseok hums, eyes gleaming. “so fuckin’ cute.”

yoongi’s standing, casual and silent, but there’s something unreadable in the way he does it.

“let me show you around,” he says, and it’s not a request.

you blink, instantly resistant. “no, thanks.”

his brow quirks. a familiar twitch. you know that look—a small, warning reminder. you sigh, rolling your eyes. “fine. humor me.”

you trail after him, through a narrow hallway until it opens up into a cluttered back storage area. it’s barely lit, a speaker buzzing low overhead.

he doesn’t turn around when he speaks. “you get off on acting like a slut for my attention?”

you scoff. “nothing i ever do is for your attention.”

yoongi turns then, slow, eyes dragging up your body until they settle on your face.

“sure,” he murmurs. “that’s why you’re here tonight. just for fun. not for the attention.”

“yup.” your tone is deliberately flippant. you pop the ‘p’. “just for fun.”

he steps in closer. “you hate that i have other girls that much?” he asks, voice low.

your mouth curls, slow and lazy. “not at all. just thought your groupies could use a little education on how to be sexy with some decorum.”

yoongi huffs a laugh, amused almost. “right.”

his eyes drop down, hovering around your waistband. “wanna see it again.”

“what?” you ask sweetly, “the tattoo you were drooling over on stage?” your voice pitches mockingly higher. “you could just say you wanna fuck me, you know.”

he quirks a brow, expression hungry. “maybe i just wanna look.”

“maybe you should use your words then.”

his eyes flick up to yours, head tilting. “then pull your pants down, princess. let me look properly.”

you don’t move. you just stare, lashes slow as they blink. “you’re easy.”

yoongi scoffs. not offended, more amused if anything.

“i’m not easy,” he says, voice calm, unbothered. “but unlike you—”

he leans in, breath brushing the shell of your ear.

“—i’m not too proud to admit when i wanna fuck someone.”

you hate the way your stomach flips. hate the way your thighs shift, heat creeping in slow behind your skin.

“i’m not asking again,” he says, voice gone rough. “pants. off.”

his words drop heavy between you, a command that leaves no room for the pretense that you’re in control anymore. his eyes drag down your body, dark and wanting, hands flexing like he’s holding himself back only by the thinnest thread.

you hold his gaze, letting the moment stretch, something smug curling in your chest at how much he wants it. you hook your thumbs into your waistband again, slower this time, letting your jeans drag down over your hips.

his breath shudders out. he doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink.

“that’s it,” yoongi says, voice dropping lower, “let me see all of you.”

then yoongi’s mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and heat, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer until there’s nothing between you but skin and want.

you kiss him back with bite, nails digging into his arms, refusing to let him have the last word even now, with your jeans tangled around your ankles and your shirt hiked up.

he grins against your mouth, dark and cocky, pulling back just enough to murmur, “always so fucking stubborn.” his thumb traces your tattoo, slow and possessive, before his hand slips between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your slick over your underwear. “but look at you now. soaked for me.”

you huff, bratting it out to the last, “maybe it’s not for you.”

yoongi’s fingers flex, a warning press. “keep mouthing off and i’ll make you beg.”

you bare your teeth in a smile, arching into his hand. “try me.”

his grip tightens, his hand teasing your clit in slow, infuriating circles. you writhe against him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan, even as your body shakes with need.

“you want to cum?” he asks, voice smug. “say please.”

you glare, rolling your hips for friction. “make me.”

his mouth curls wicked. “you’re impossible.”

he pushes your underwear aside, slipping two fingers inside and curling just right, and you bite your lip holding in a cry.

his free arm tightens around your waist, holding you still, breath hot against your jaw as he mutters, “good girl. take it. show me how much you want it.”

your pride holds out as long as it can.

but when he finally pulls his hand away and lines his cock up, pressing slow and deliberate, you break.

“yoongi—”

he grins, eyes burning. “say please.”

you clench your jaw, staring him down, hips already grinding against him for more. but you give in.

“fuck—please.”

“that’s it,” he growls. “knew you’d beg for it.”

yoongi turns you quick, chest to the wall, his hands sliding up your sides. before you can get another word out, he pushes two fingers into your mouth, shutting you up. your lips part instinctively, tongue swirling around him.

“always gotta run your mouth,” he mutters, sliding into you from behind, cock already pressing deep. “figured i’d give it something useful to do.”

his thrusts are rough, pace hard enough that your knees nearly buckle, forehead pressed to the wall.

“fuck, look at you,” he grits out, voice thick with want. “so cock-hungry you’ll do anything i say. this what you wanted? to show off for me, act like a slut in front of everyone just to get filled up?”

you moan around his fingers, eyes fluttering shut, saliva dribbling down your chin as he fucks you harder, every thrust sending sparks up your spine.

“that’s it,” yoongi pants, hand fisting tighter in your hair. “take it. let everyone hear you. let ‘em know who’s fucking you stupid.”

your hips snap back against him, greedy for more, his filthy praise only making you wetter. his fingers keep your mouth stuffed, your noises muffled and desperate, the wet sounds echoing in the cramped, dim-lit space.

he slams into you, deep and mean, pushing you right to the edge.

“you gonna cum for me like this?” he taunts, thumb smearing spit across your cheek. “gonna let me fuck all that attitude out of you?”

you nod, desperate and frantic against his fingers, spit slicking your lips as you whine.

yoongi just smirks, pressing in closer until his mouth hovers by your ear, voice dark and wrecked. “do it,” he whispers, hips snapping harder, pace unyielding. “cum for me.”

his breath is hot at your neck, words rolling down your spine as he fucks you through it. you let go, orgasm tearing through you, the world narrowing to nothing but the feeling of his cock and the rough drag of his fingers in your mouth, his voice commanding you to fall apart.

yoongi groans, fucking you through every aftershock, voice filthy in your ear: “that’s it—such a good fucking girl when you’re stuffed full, huh?”

he keeps you pinned, each thrust rougher, chasing his own end. his hand slips from your jaw to your lower back, splaying his fingers over your spine, tugging you back until your arch deepens and your tattoo is on full display for him.

he leans back just enough to take in the sight , the dark lines flexing with every movement, sweat beading along your skin. you can feel his gaze burning into you, possessive and filthy.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he groans, breath jagged, “can’t believe you wanted to hide this from me.”

he fucks you faster, desperate, the rhythm turning erratic as he chases release. when he’s on the edge, he pulls out at the last second, fist wrapping around his cock. you feel the first hot splash hit your lower back, streaking across your tattoo, and then another and another, thick and messy.

he groans your name, hips jerking as he empties himself all over your skin, marking you with each pulsing spurt—not bothering to hide how much he loves the sight of you ruined for him.

for a moment, the only sounds are your ragged breaths and his low curses, the aftermath warm and sticky on your back, his hands still gripping your hips.

then yoongi lets his gaze drag down your body, still smug as he takes in the mess he’s made. hair wild, mouth bruised, skin streaked where his cum is drying across your tattoo. his eyes flick up, drinking in your thoroughly ruined state, and he smirks, just a little too proud of himself.

“you needed that, huh,” he drawls.

you glare, breath still ragged. “never.”

his mouth twitches, dark and lazy. “i’ll clean you up.”

you shake your head, tugging your jeans back up with shaky fingers. “you don’t need to. you got what you wanted.”

yoongi’s smirk falters, gaze narrowing. “what we wanted.”

you snort, still breathless, swiping at your back with the edge of your shirt. “i was gonna fuck someone tonight, yoongi. just happened to be you. don’t get it twisted.”

something sour flashes through his eyes. “yeah? you were gonna let hoseok fuck you?”

you meet his gaze, steady. “i thought we were fucking other people.”

“yeah, but you don’t see me fucking the chick you came in with,” he spits, a hint of jealousy slipping out despite himself.

you huff, rolling your eyes. “good. she’s engaged. you can’t.”

yoongi goes quiet, jaw tight, frustration flashing behind his eyes. “the fuck is your problem?”

you tug your shirt down, refusing to meet his gaze. “i don’t have one.”

“bullshit. you obviously do.” he steps in closer, tension crackling. “what is it? is it that i’m not your lapdog anymore? can’t stand seeing i don’t need you? does it shatter your fragile ego, watching me have a life that doesn’t orbit around you?”

you snap your glare to him, voice cold. “shut the fuck up, yoongi.”

he just shakes his head, mouth curling mean. “no, tell me. what makes you think you’re so fucking great? what, did you peak in college? you holding onto whatever leash you think you’ve got on me—does that make you feel better about your mediocre fucking life?”

your jaw tightens, heat stinging behind your eyes, but you force your tone steady. “shut up. go fuck yourself.”

yoongi laughs, sharp and bitter. “maybe you should try it first. sounds like you need it more than me.”

you spit at his feet, the sound sharp in the cramped room. yoongi’s jaw tightens, something ugly flickering in his eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

you turn on your heel and storm out, wiping your mouth, chin high and pride stitching back together with every step.

who the fuck does he think he is? 

permanent taglist : @rpwprpwprpwprw @glossdebut @angellekookie @ggukivrse @annyeongbitch7 @hemmosfear @auroradamned @jimineepaboya @devinkelsey19 @misshale21 @benyhime

[chummywchimmy]

dark alpha jungkook headcannons

warnings: omegaverse, yandere behavior, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, obsessive possessiveness, coercion, manipulation, stalking, intimidation, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, isolation from support systems, controlling behavior, abuse of authority/power imbalance, forced proximity, captivity/imprisonment themes, scenting/marking (omegaverse), alpha/omega dynamics, dominance and submission, heat/rut, dubious consent, non-consensual sexual content, forced kissing, physical restraint, breeding kink, mating bites, knotting, pregnancy, possessive pregnancy, body marking (bruises, hickeys, bite marks), choking/neck grabbing, rough sex, humiliation/degradation, objectification, fear, violence, blood/injuries, threats, reproductive coercion, loss of autonomy and explicit sexual content. (Includes warnings for the full-length NSFW version)

note: the extreme nsfw part of this hc has been redacted. the full length, nsfw version (with serious warnings) is posted on my patreon for my subscribers. it is also available for purchase by non-subscribers under the shop section.

patreon

- alpha jungkook who had spent his entire life being told that one day the pack would be his, who grew up with every elder and beta lowering their eyes before him and every omega treating him with careful reverence because everyone knew the future alpha was not someone to offend

- alpha jungkook who stands beside his father as your pack officially merges with theirs, barely paying attention to the formal speeches until he catches the sweetest omega scent threading through the crowd, his head turning before he even realizes he’s searching for its owner

- alpha jungkook who finds you tucked quietly behind your pack elders, hands folded in front of you, avoiding everyone’s gaze as though shrinking into yourself might make the dozens of unfamiliar wolves disappear

- alpha jungkook who cannot hear another word his father says after that because all he can think is mine

- alpha jungkook who has never believed in destiny, dismissing the old stories about wolves recognizing one another at first sight as little more than comforting myths told around winter fires, only to spend the entire ceremony unable to drag his eyes away from the shy omega who refuses to look back at him

- alpha jungkook who learns your name before sunset and your mating status before the following morning through elders and packmates who never question why their future alpha suddenly seems so interested in one newly arrived omega

- alpha jungkook who as the Alpha’s son and heir to the pack treats the newly merged pack members like intruders to be culled yet directs his singular predatory focus entirely on you by pinning you under his stare while you struggle to remain upright under the weight of his alpha dominance

- alpha jungkook who doesn’t care about the customs of your old pack, finds you in the communal dining hall, walking straight past his own lieutenants to kick the chair next to you and forcing you to sit still as he leans in far too close, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he enquires about how you’re “settling in”

- alpha jungkook who interrupts your chores, finds you in the woods gathering supplies and shadows your every step with his sheer physical presence stifling the air around you until you’re trembling

- alpha jungkook who publicly corrects your posture during pack gatherings with his large calloused hands gripping your waist to adjust you and his touch burning through your clothes as he murmurs “you need to learn how to present yourself if you want to stay in my pack” while the rest of the pack watches in fearful silence

- alpha jungkook who displays a terrifyingly calm precision when he’s angry unlike the other hot-headed pack members, stares you down with those wide intense eyes, tapping his fingers against his thigh in an impatient beat until you are so unnerved by the silence that you end up apologizing for things you didn’t even do just to get him to stop looking at you

- alpha jungkook who uses his natural restless energy to keep you constantly off balance by appearing suddenly in your peripheral vision or blocking your path in narrow corridors, his chest broad and imposing, forcing you to look up at his set jaw and eyes that hold a predatory glint as he waits for you to step aside or drop your gaze in submission

- alpha jungkook who finds your naturally flowery scent offensive to his senses and will corner you against the pack house walls with his calloused thumb pressing firmly into your scent gland until you whimper, effectively layering his own scent of rain, pine and metallic iron over you until you feel like you are suffocating in his presence

- alpha jungkook who notices you glancing at other omegas in the pack and proceeds to isolate you, manufacturing tasks that keep you occupied in the high security training zones where only he and his closest lieutenants have access, effectively cutting off your social tether to anyone but him

- alpha jungkook who makes a habit of "inspecting" your living quarters citing the need to ensure the safety of the new members only to spend the time inhaling your scent from your pillows and leaving his own heavy aggressive musk layered over your bedding until you feel like you can’t breathe without tasting him

- alpha jungkook who catches you trying to sneak away during the night, cornering you against a stone wall in the dark with his body slamming into yours and his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he growls that you are never going anywhere without his explicit permission

- alpha jungkook who takes you to the highest ridge of the pack territory, showing you the expanse of his future domain with his arm a band of iron around your waist and telling you that everything you see here belongs to him now

- alpha jungkook who is hyper aware of the pack’s hierarchy and uses it to isolate you, intentionally assigning you to "special duties" that require you to stay in his quarters and ensuring that when other members of your former pack come looking for you he can turn them away with a single thunderous growl and a display of teeth that leaves no room for argument

- alpha jungkook who loves to play with the strings of your emotions, acting perfectly charming and helpful in front of his father the Pack Alpha only to turn freezing cold and demanding the moment the door to his room clicks shut which serves as a terrifying reminder that there is nowhere in this territory where you can find someone who will truly stand up to him for your sake

- alpha jungkook who brings you gifts in the form of fresh kills, rare pelts, polished stones and expects you to be grateful with his smile never quite reaching his eyes if you try to refuse and his voice dropping as he asks if you really want to insult the future pack leader

- alpha jungkook who notices you hiding a tremor when he enters a room so he purposefully drops his voice into that deep gravelly register that vibrates in your chest and steps into your personal space until you’re pressed against a wall with his nose nuzzling into the scent gland at your neck to inhale deeply

- alpha jungkook who displays an obsessive streak regarding your health with him obsessively checking your pulse or forcing you to eat until you are nauseous, his eyes scanning your body with a possessive hunger that makes you feel like an object under a microscope

- alpha jungkook who when he is in a foul mood will spar with other pack members until they are broken and bloody and then immediately find you and forcing you to clean his wounds or help him out of his gear as his eyes track your every hesitant movement with a dark intensity that demands you acknowledge the violence he is capable of unleashing

- alpha jungkook who whenever he sees you struggling to carry heavy supplies from the new pack stores knocks the items from your hands with a casual kick with his eyes turning hard as he tells you that he’d much rather see you tired from being under him than tired from manual labor that is beneath a mate of the future leader

- alpha jungkook who in a moment of twisted intimacy sits you in front of a mirror in his private chambers and forces you to watch his reflection behind yours as his hands move over your skin with as he whispers “look at yourself, look at how you tremble for me” making you witness your own loss of autonomy until you are weeping because you’re overwhelmed by the reality that there is no part of your life he doesn't own

- alpha jungkook who during the cold winters forces you to share his fur lined sleeping pelt with his large body acting as a living furnace that traps you completely as he presses you into the mattress with his heavy thigh thrown over your hips to keep you anchored and his palm splayed over your stomach to "keep the warmth in” and his eyes tracking your every shallow breath in the dark

- alpha jungkook who senses the subtle shift in your scent that heralds your heat and immediately stops his training, his eyes darkening to obsidian as he abandons the pack yard and locks the heavy timber door to his quarters from the inside the moment you stumble through with his movements fluid and predatory as he stalks toward you, trapping you against the heavy wood

- alpha jungkook who ignores your breathless protests that you aren't ready as his large calloused hands grip your wrists to pin them above your head with his voice dropping into a guttural alpha rumble that forces a submissive whine from your throat making his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck as he growls “you’ve been playing coy for weeks little one but your body is screaming for me and I’m done waiting”

(NSFW section redacted)

- alpha jungkook who when he finally knots you at the end of his brutal heat gives you a mating bite so cruel, it bruises the skin of your neck for weeks and makes other omegas stop and stare as your new mate finally lets you out of his room

- alpha jungkook who discards all pretense and simply keeps you in his quarters ensuring your days are marked by the heavy suffocating scent of his devotion and your nights consumed by his need to mark you repeatedly until you can’t remember a time before his hands were on you

- alpha jungkook who when you realize you’re pregnant with his heir becomes a fortress refusing to let you leave his side with his protective instinct twisting into a claustrophobic need to keep you hidden away from the world entirely and cradling your belly as if it were a fragile precious treasure that belongs solely to his lineage

- alpha jungkook who becomes increasingly needy as your pregnancy progresses and develops a compulsive wish to be by your side at any time that he can, making you wonder at the stark contrast of the strict alpha who rules the pack and the needy mate who walks behind you with his arms wrapped around your frame even as you swat at him to move away so that you can complete your chores

- alpha jungkook who stands at the head of the pack meeting with his hand resting possessively on your shoulder and his thumb digging into your collarbone as he announces to everyone that you are carrying the next generation with his eyes daring anyone to even look at you with anything other than total cowering reverence

- alpha jungkook who in the quiet of his room becomes the only world you know as he whispers into your hair and he holds you against his chest “you were so shy when you arrived my little omega but look at you now, you’re completely mine inside and out and you’re never going to be anything else as long as I breathe”

TEASER FOR THE FULL LENGTH VERS.-

- alpha jungkook who while buried deep inside you during the height of your slickest most frantic release pauses his rhythm just long enough to sneer at the puddle soaking the sheets beneath you with his voice dripping with cruel amusement as he murmurs “look at you losing all control. you’re leaking like a faucet, so pathetic and desperate that you can’t even hold your own water. does it feel like you’re pissing yourself on my cock pup? do it, leak all over your alpha’s knot”

How I felt posting this :

(Author is not even ovulating)

[mei-mei-fics]

+*ᥫ᭡ dad to be jimin | headcanons

pairing: idol!jimin x pregnant reader

warnings: none! complete fluff +sfw

dad to be!jimin who makes sure that you’ve eaten enough for both you and the baby everyday. he’d ordered extra fries or larger portions of food for you, even when you protested. he insisted that you and the baby needed all the nutrients they could get.

dad to be!jimin who treated everyday of your pregnancy like a maintenance day. he’d feed you, take you on shopping sprees, drive you to mani-pedi appointments and have your hairdressers come to the home and doll you up. he didn’t allow you to drive during your pregnancy (even while he was at practice or at the studio). he’d send staff to the house to escort you anywhere you needed to be. even to hermés to get you some pregnancy gifts.

dad to be!jimin who sang to your tummy every night. he read somewhere that music soothed children in the womb or something like that, and of course he wanted your baby to have a passion for music just like you two did. he already discussed with you endlessly about the instrument lessons he wanted to put your child in.

“how about piano? we could use a pianist in the family. i think guitar would be good as well, and namjoon could teach them how to write-“

“baby,” you’d interrupt. “can the baby please get here first darling?”

dad to be!jimin who researched EVERYTHING he needed to know prior to you going into labor. he researched contractions, teething, postpartum care, what foods the baby should eat, breastfeeding, everything. he didn’t joke when it came to raising the baby correctly, or caring about you the way you needed.

dad to be!jimin who insisted that you didn’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. he’d cook, clean, do the laundry, do the dishes, drive you, everything. he’d even beg for you to allow him to bathe you. (which you protested but always failed to get through to him). even when you exercised, he kept a close eye on you, making sure you didn’t overwork yourself.

dad to be!jimin who broke into tears once he found out you were pregnant. he called his parents, your parents, the bangtan boys, tweeted to army, even his manager knew. the pride and joy in his life was being blessed enough to be the father of your kids. he couldn’t deny that when he was reminded of the family you two were growing, he became more emotional as time went on.

dad to be!jimin who never let you forget that you were his first baby. your health came first. every checkup and doctor visit, he paid close attention to everything the doctor said. he gave you extra water, fruits, as much medicine as you needed, and stressed the fact you needed rest constantly.

dad to be!jimin who always reminded you that he was blessed to experience this with you. to him, pregnancy was the ultimate gift. the love of his life giving birth to his very own child exuded the ultimate display of love. you loved him enough to go through the pain for 9+ months to deliver his sweet baby boy/girl who would be a spitting image of you both.

“i’m so proud of you love, my sweet baby. i can’t wait to be a father. there’s no one else who’d id rather experience this with,”

dad to be!jimin who cuddled you the second you finished giving birth. he held you close, stroking the sweat off your forehead and kissing your flushed cheeks. he calmed you down, rocking you to bed against his chest until he waited for the doctors to finish running tests on your newborn.

“you did so well darling, i love you so much. thank you so much, you did amazing sweetheart,”

dad to be!jimin who shortly after getting familiar with caring for your baby, started talking about having another one. he wanted a large family with you. as many babies as you were willing to push, he was willing to care for. and to be honest, you were willing to give him as many children as he wanted. at night once the baby was finally asleep, he’d hold you closer. rubbing his palms against your beautiful stretch marks, reminding you exactly how beautiful you were and how much he would love to go through this experience once more.

“i think our baby would like a little sibling soon. don’t you think? how many mini-us’s can we bring? you know you look sexy pregnant right?”

you’d roll your eyes at his comment, smirking as you did so. truthfully so, despite all the pain the labor was, jimin made the experience better. and you were willing to go through all of it again for your husband.

a/n: this was req by a few followers, it’s lowkey a filler post until my series comes out so i hope u enjoy!

taglist: @calmyourtitts7 @barnessmut @cprcupcakke @himik0-0 0 @heyyymin @mokaccinooooo @floclover @qhevy @seeyouinheaveen @mysteris-things @jjanajk @maddieppson @katsuskiess @thisaintredwine @jeilicious @inlovewithallmusic @iheartwonnieee @thvgia @ayoo-bangtan @minabaee @jungkoookieee @alwaayys-blog @renpodz @written-with-stars @tifoffee @xlee-xd7 @serenaorsiren @hummusxx @floclover @lunette13 @katarinamae @sugadclaws @thedelulusafespace @taegiverse7 @liazs44 @sierrakook @vevemagicshop @shadykittyperfection @dna-black-and-blue @cprcupcakke @ae12moonss @euniciane @jinandnamjoonsfavgirl @sftlrmin @krysphycookiez @skzrracha @sourcandyfish @fandom-taylor @dvarlinggg @b-tangkitten

[back2bluesidex]

Outcast - KTH [Teaser]

Pairing: Charming, heartthrob Taehyung X Introverted, socially awkward, Fem Reader ft. ????

Theme: Angst, strangers to friends to ? au.

Summary:

In which you accidentally hear your crush talking behind your back and decide to end your friendship with him for once and for all.

Total Word count: 6.5k

Teaser Word Count: 620

Warnings (for the full fic): insensitive people, making fun of people, Taehyung is a bit... but he realizes his mistake after it's too late.

Posting date: 5th June, 2026

Minors Do Not Interact!

Masterlinks | Patreon (this one is already posted in Patreon, so, if you want, you can read the story right away)

Read the full story now!

“Y/N-ssi?” one of your colleagues knocks down on your cubicle, “are you a bit free right now?” 

You, being mostly done with your work, look up and nod a yes at him. 

“Can you please copy these papers then? I need to sort some documents out and if I leave for copying now, I will be late for the meeting. Please do me this favor.” he pleads. This colleague is one of those very few people who are almost like you - not in anyone’s business. And you are more than happy to help him out. 

“Sure, Jaehyun-ssi. Just give me five minutes.” taking the papers from him, you stand up. 

“Thank you!” he bows at you as you walk towards the copy room lazily. 

The copy room is just beside the breakroom, you will have to walk past the breakroom to reach your destination. Just as you start nearing the breakroom, you hear giggles and laughter coming from it. And if you are not hearing things then one of those voices is Taehyung’s.

“But Taehyung-ssi is really the MVP, he managed to befriend the most antisocial person of the entire floor.” your feet stop as you hear Yuna, one of those who circle around Taehyung’s periphery, speak in a teasing tone. 

They are talking about you, you have no doubt about that. 

“Eh? Who are you talking about?” Taehyung almost whines. 

“The programming genius Y/N, who else!” she replies. 

“Yes, you two have been eating a lot of ice creams these days, huh? Are those dates?” another one from the group butts in with his own curiosity. 

“Dates? Me and Y/N? Are you guys insane?” Taehyung laughs out loud. His voice booms through the open glass door of the breakroom. You watch his translucent reflection on the door, the distortion of his expression is visible. 

Your heart stops beating for a moment, as your brain has to take a bit of time to analyze whatever data it was receiving is real or not. 

This is really happening. Taehyung is actually not interested in you that way - which is fine. You can take the rejection. But why is he talking about you like that? Like seeing you under a romantic light is wrong? Scandalous? 

“Those were not dates? Then what are you two? Best friends?” Yuna teases him again. 

“Nope. Not even close. I only befriended her because I felt pity for her being an outcast. There’s no other special reason. She is a bit awkward, I’d say. Not bad but definitely not someone I would date or be best friends with.” Taehyung shrugs, breaking your heart in pieces. 

All of the time you thought you two were close, was nothing but a pity party for Taehyung? Your and his friendship was a charity case? 

You have been living in a delusion. Thinking that someone as popular as Taehyung would be interested in you was a delusion for sure. You stand there, every other sound ebbs away, only the loud cacophony of Taehyung’s words remain. You forget what you were doing, what you are about to do and how to function all together. 

You really are nothing but an amusement to him? Just someone to make fun of? Ten months of friendship was a lie? A complete lie? 

But not anymore. You have to come out of the temporary comfortable lie you put yourself in. you have to go back to your previous state - an outcast with no friends and honestly that is way better than having fake people around you. 

Walking towards the copy room, you do your job. If a few tears make their way out of your eyes - no one needs to know about that.

Read the full story now!

Permanent Taglist:

@chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @armystay89 @ryryvna @purple-realms @ssbb-22 @miniesjams32 @mar-lo-pap @granataepfelchen @karleereadssmut @amarawayne @magicshop96

[strawbarryjiminie]

Taco Truck

Description:You’re a junior in college in 2014, and you’re a walking Tumblr moodboard. Lace chokers, glittery space buns and ripped fishnets. So unwritten rules dictate that you should avoid the goody-two shoes freshman Jeon Jungkook. Too bad you’re not good at following rules, anyway.

Pairing(s):Bad!Girl! Reader x Good!Boy! Jungkook

Genre(s):College au, strangers to lovers, 2014

Warning(s):Smoking, vaping, mentions of addiction, swearing, a sickening amount of early 2010s references, drinking, mentions of drugs, age gap (she’s 21 and he’s 18), all of bts is annoying af besides jk, sexually explicit content: dry humping, public sex, handjob, fingering, protected sex, virgin jungkook, experienced reader

WC:17.8k

A/N: Sorry for such a long wait but taco truck is finally here!! I’m so obsessed with this pairing and au omg reader is exactly who I wanted to be in 2014 (so maybe this is a little bit of projecting lmao). I hope you guys enjoy, I especially all my 2010 references that I pulled from the corners of my mind 😮‍💨

Song: Taco Truck By Lana Del Rey

You tap your foot against your dashboard along to the beat of the song you’re blasting, bringing your vape to your lips to suck in the strawberry-flavored air, closing your eyes with a satisfied sigh.

Your car is small, so it doesn’t take long for the space to fill with smoke. The gentle rays of the September sun warms you as you pop a piece of gum in your mouth and take another hit, coughing slightly. It is the first day of school for junior year at your university, and you would need this to get through the day.

Your peace is interrupted by a sudden knock that comes at your door. Jumping up, you pop open the door to see who it is.

“___! It’s only the first day of school and you’re already late for class and hotboxing your own car? Get the fuck out!” Taehyung, the campus security guard, lectures you. He leans against your car, dramatically waving the smoke out of his face. You roll your eyes. He always takes it upon himself to try and parent you, although you’re not sure why. He’s not that much older than you are, and you’re just not sure why he cares so much.

“And why do you think this year would be any different, Taehyung?” You ask, leaning back in your seat. It’s true; you probably haven’t been to nearly enough classes for you to be progressing on time through school like you are, but with your parents having a lot of money and being alumni at your university you kind of get away with whatever you want.

“I don’t know why I try. Just get to class before I write you up for loitering,” Taehyung mutters, eyeing the vape in your hand. You groan dramatically as you pick up the slurpee you had gotten this morning, sipping on the sugary liquid as you exit your car. You reach into your back seat, slinging your tote bag that you use as a backpack over your shoulder before shutting the door and locking it. You narrow your eyes on Taehyung.

“So maybe you should stop,” You give him a fake smile before taking another sip and purposefully pushing past him, walking toward the campus.

You plug your wired headphones into your iPhone 6, which is the newest model and one everyone has been raving about. You press play on your favorite band, the Arctic Monkeys, turning the volume all the way up.

You hadn’t even wanted to attend university, but your parents made you. After your mom started a successful law firm and your dad became a top of the field anesthesiologist, they were thrilled when they birthed your perfect older brother, Jimin. Jimin currently also attends your college, which is the best in the state, but he’s planning on becoming a lawyer like your mother. He was the picture perfect son: smart, focused, oblivious to extra-curricular activities with impeccable hygiene.

You? Now, you were the complete opposite. While Jimin had gotten into your university solely based on grades, your parents had to buy your spot in the school. You always hated school, and now you do even more, especially since your parents are making you major in psychology, which seemed the least tedious out of the little options they gave you. Although, you’re not sure how they expect you to give other people therapy when you seem lacking in it yourself.

Truthfully, you wanted to go into cosmetics. You can’t count how many times you sat on your bedroom floor and dyed your hair all kinds of crazy colors.They always suited you, though, and it is your passion. Unfortunately, your parents would never allow you to pursue it, so you act out in other ways, like dressing up like the brand ambassador of Hot Topic and refusing to go to class.

You sigh as you peek over at the cosmetology building as your feet unwillingly drag you to the psych building. You had avoided taking any classes to do with psychology your first two years, only taking and barely passing the ones that freshman and sophomores are required to take, but now you don’t have any choice.

You push open the doors, changing the song to something more melancholic to match your mood. Lana Del Rey’s newest album, Ultraviolence, speaks to you perfectly as your Doc Marten’s squeak against the floor. You stop in front of your class, pushing your hair behind your ears. Here we go, you think.

Jungkook nervously sets his books down on his desk, taking the furthest seat away from everyone. He’s taking a class that seems to be filled with mostly juniors and seniors, so everyone already has their established friend groups. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by trying to include himself, and he’d rather be alone anyway.

It’s his first day of college, and he couldn’t be more nervous. He was excited for the learning aspect, but the social life? Not so much. Not to mention that his eighteenth birthday was literally last week, and he feels small next to all these practically grown adults. The professor begins to introduce himself and review the coursework for History of Psychology. Jungkook is already familiar with this since he had taken it upon himself to review the syllabus, but he pays attention anyway.

As the lecture starts, Jungkook anxiously scribbles in his notes. He doesn’t pay mind to how nobody else seems to be doing the same. He is too caught up in his own little world. His spell is only broken when the professor stops talking, his sentence disturbed by the sound of the door swinging open.

“Oh, you must be ___. It’s nice for you to finally join us,” The professor crones sarcastically. Jungkook’s eyes drift to the door to see what the disturbance was.

There you are, standing by the door, looking as though you had just stepped out of a tumblr moodboard. Your hair is a washed out blue, the color of forgotten dreams, your roots peeking out and tied into space buns that bob around your neck. You have at least five necklaces that dangle around your chest, and two lace chokers that wrap around your neck.

Jungkook could tell that you had money, even if that wasn’t the vibe you were trying to give off. Your tiny black shorts look soft, your band T-shirt that is tied into a knot just below your chest must’ve been from a merch stand at a concert, and the flannel that is much too big for your stature is cashmere. The only thing that doesn’t look of high quality is the ripped fishnets underneath your shorts, but besides that, even your boots are obviously expensive.

Jungkook directs his glare to your face. Your eyelids are so coated in black and glitter he couldn’t tell what color they are, and you look like you are perpetually annoyed. You’re holding a slurpee, and you take out an earbud as you respond to the professor.

“Wish I could say the same,” You crone in response, and Jungkook can barely contain his gasp at the way you had talked back to a professor. He hears the people in front of him whispering about you, so he leans forward.

“...her parents are rich as fuck and are alumni, so she practically fails all her classes and still doesn’t get any punishments. Annoys me, to be honest,” Jungkook hears. Ah, so you’re a rich spoiled kid that gets everything she wants but still feels the need to act out. Jungkook hates people like you, and wishes he could slap you across the face with real problems like unpaid bills and dirt under fingernails.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard quite a few stories about you. Go ahead and take a seat. Try to keep up,” He whispers the last part underneath his breath as he turns back to the chalkboard.

Jungkook swears under his breath once he notices that the only empty seat in the hall is the one next to him. You roll your eyes as you pop the earbud back in, trudging up towards him. He feels compelled to shove his bag into the spot next to him, but that would just be rude. Maybe you’re just given a bad reputation because of your appearance. His mom taught him to never judge a book by its cover.

As you plop down in the seat next to him, Jungkook can hear the sound of your music blasting through your headphones. You smell of strawberry, smoke and bad decisions. Jungkook immediately tenses up as you place your bag in front of you, the contents spilling out. A bracelet, a broken eyeshadow palette and a cigarette threatens to touch and therefore contaminate his perfectly clean school supplies. He discreetly moves them over as you pull out a tattered notebook and turn to him.

“You got a pencil?” You ask. Jungkook, trying to be nice, nods stiffly and hands you a pencil. You take it, your fingertips lingering on his. Jungkook can feel you studying him as he tries to refocus on the professor.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. You a transfer?” You ask, and Jungkook has to keep himself from cringing at your terrible grammar.

“No, I’m a freshman,” He replies, his teeth stuck together. You absentmindedly pull out of a tube of lip gloss, opening it and spreading the dark color on your lips. Jungkook forces himself to look away from how disgustingly alluring they appear.

“So it’s your first day here?” You question, smacking your lips together. You shift, and for a moment your scent becomes even stronger. Jungkook can’t decide if he likes it or not.

“That’s usually what being a freshman implies,” He responds wittingly. Instead of being upset like he had suspected, you simply crack a smile as you rest your head on your hand, your eyes never looking away from him as if you just find him endlessly interesting.

“Why are you in this class, then? Don’t you have to take all the required classes first?” You ask, blinking up at him. Jungkook hates the way his stomach lurches at the action.

“I took all of those in high school already,” He replies, and you whistle like you are impressed. Jungkook tries not to flush. Girls don’t ever usually talk to him, especially not like this.

“So you’re a smartie, then. Cute,” You quip before turning back to the professor, not even trying to feign attention. Jungkook sucks a deep breath in, doing the same. Although, he’s having a difficult time focusing. Your presence both annoys and intrigues him. He doesn’t know why you seem so interested in him. Girls like you like guys with long, shaggy hair with cool indie records, not guys who unironically listen to One Direction with a closet full of vests.

Jungkook is finally able to refocus and even finds himself interested in the lesson. Although he is already very familiar with the Stanford Prison Experiment, he still earnestly scribbles down notes and even finds himself asking a few questions.

The lesson is only a few minutes away from being over when Jungkook smells something strange to the right of him. He scrunches his nose and turns to you, where the smell seems to be coming from. You’re holding something in your hand. To Jungkook, it looks like an oddly shaped highlighter. You suck on it before bringing the sleeve of your flannel to your mouth, breathing out and smothering a few coughs.

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together as he watches you do it again. The smell seems reminiscent of strawberries. You notice him watching you, so you offer a crooked smile before reaching out your palm that is holding the weird looking highlighter.

“Want some?” You question. Jungkook raises a brow, staring at the small contraption. He notices that it has some gems encrusted on the front that must be your initials. He thins his lips.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing with that highlighter and I don’t wanna know,” He replies. You stare at him for a few seconds before bursting into giggles. You hold your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your laughs as Jungkook looks on, entirely unamused. You’re practically crying as your hand retracts, placing the thing back into your black tote bag that is riddled with holes.

“... class is dismissed,” The professor says, and everyone starts packing up. You’re still trying to control your laughter as you shove all your things back into your bag. Jungkook feels eager to leave. His first ever college class was certainly a strange one, primarily thanks to you. Jungkook gathers all of his things and is about to leave before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks down at your hand, your fingernails painted a chipped black.

“Hey, what’s your name?” You ask. Jungkook gulps, his hands fiddling with his sweater.

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook,” He answers through gritted teeth. You smile, in a way that doesn’t come easy but is nice to look at anyway.

“I’m ___. I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Jeon Jungkook,” You give his arm a small pat on the shoulder, spinning around and walking out of the room, leaving him with confused thoughts, knitted brows and the ever so slight remnant of glitter on his skin.

You take a bite of your Rice Krispie Treat, the packaging crinkling underneath your fingers as you slide onto the picnic table. Lunch time is always your favorite time of day, a time where you don’t feel the pressure of school constantly pressing down on your shoulders. Your friends are already sitting there, waiting for you.

Ni-ki sits with his legs crossed, a leather jacket hiding his ripped red Nirvana T-shirt. He has a cigarette resting between his lips, taking turns between inhaling the smoke and taking a bite of the sandwich he got from the dining hall. Eunchae rests next to him, her hair a dark cherry red loosely tied into a braid, sporting a tee that is long in the back and short in the front with a unicorn that has x’s through its eyes and a tight leather skirt. Eunchae holds out her hand expectantly, so Ni-ki passes her the cigarette and she takes a puff.

“Already starting with the flirting?” You tease your friends who have liked each other since forever but have refused to get together. Ni-ki rolls his eyes at you.

“Fuck off, ___. I heard you already got in trouble with your professor,” He responds, and you can’t say you’re surprised. With a relatively small school, word gets around often.

“Yeah, you’re starting it off with a bang,” Your best friend, Giselle, quips from next to you. You turn to observe your friend. Her baby pink hair is flipped over into a side part, her neck decorated with various necklaces, wearing a black and white striped dress, a black cardigan, and ripped tights. Your friends aren’t like you in terms of how you all got this way. They all started with being good students who got into your university the right way, but were exposed to too much all at once and took up some bad habits that eventually became ritual.

“I just love being unapologetically me,” You flourish your hands around, giggling as you lean down to dig in your tote bags. You can feel Giselle’s eyes narrow onto you as you pull out a cigarette.

“You’re in an awfully good mood today,” She notices, and it’s true. You ponder her statement as you push the cigarette between your lips. You’re usually very closed off, only allowing your true witty personality to shine when you’re with a select few people, and even then you’re especially pessimistic. You know why you’re in such a good mood today, though.

It’s that little freshman you talked to during History of Psych today. He was cute, really cute, and you like the way his gaze seemed to linger and how easily he flushed at every flirty comment you made. He’s the exact opposite kind of guy you usually associate yourself with: smart, innocent, focused. You even smile now thinking about him. Something about him interests you, but you silently vow to stay away. He seems to have a bright future ahead of himself, and you don’t want to ruin that for him with your bad influence.

“Did Namjoon talk to you today or something?” Eunchae asks as you flick open your lighter that’s decorated with little peace signs, cupping your hands around your cigarette. You scrunch your face up in obvious disgust as the end lights. You take a puff, staring at your friend with annoyance.

“Hell no. Him and his skinny jeans can go to hell,” You mutter, holding the cigarette between your middle and index fingers. Your friends laugh, and you even allow yourself a smirk. You used to be obsessed with your asshole, cheating ex Namjoon until about last week when you decided you didn’t want to boost his ego by still wanting him so badly. No matter how tempting him and his annoyingly soft hair may be.

You and your friends continue to eat and talk about your days. It seems that theirs have gone okay, which you’re happy to hear until you feel someone push down on your head, causing you to burn yourself with your cigarette. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

“What the fuck, Jimin?” You yell, standing up and turning to face your brother. He stands with a flannel and cargo pants, his hair neatly gelled back and an iced coffee resting in his hand. His stupid little “trendy” mustache tattoo sits on his finger, which, in your opinion, is no match to the ones you’ve given yourself with Eunchae’s tattoo gun.

“I’ve heard that the principal is already pissed off with you, brat. He’s definitely gonna tell our parents. Mom and dad are going to be pissed,” He retorts, his other annoying preppy little friends Hoseok and Jin laughing in response. You roll your eyes. He pulls this shit with you all the time.

“More than they usually are?” You cross your hands, and you can tell Jimin is eyeing the cigarette in between your fingers. He hates when you smoke, but you’re sure it’s less because he cares for your health and more so to protect his delicate reputation.

“Oh, yeah. Good luck with that, you little shit,” He rips the cigarette from in between your fingers and throws it on the ground, stomping on it with his checkered Vans. You gasp out loud.

“Hey, that was my last one!” You yell as Jimin walks away, throwing you the middle finger. Your fists ball up at your sides. Usually, most people don’t mess with you and your friends, but of course the exception to that is your asshole brother.

“Here, ___, don’t listen to him,” Giselle helps you down as she hands you a cigarette, and you take it before groaning and resting your head in your hands.

“He might be right, though. If the principal does call my parents, I’m fucked. I can’t do math club again like last time I got in trouble,” You groan and roll your eyes, reminiscing on sophomore year. Giselle rubs your back.

“Then don’t go home tonight. Let’s go to the football game. I’m sure some hot, dumb jock will cheer you up,” She encourages, and you look up at her with a smile you can’t contain.

Jungkook nervously weaves through the crowd of people as he navigates himself to the football field. He’s too anxious to go back to his dorm right now, he doesn’t really like his roommate, who’s a little too nerdy even for him, and the library is closed for maintenance, so he resolved to go to the football game. Maybe he could find some friends or something.

Chatter floats through the air as he climbs up the bleachers, searching for people like him. Decent people, who care about school and like video games. Of course, his heart skips a beat when he spots you, sitting next to three people who are dressed just like you. You’re holding a soda and a hot dog, chatting with your friends and half-watching the game unfolding in front of you. You must’ve buttoned up your flannel in the cold breeze that comes with nighttime, but it slips off of your shoulder, revealing your smooth skin that shimmers under the field lights. Jungkook gulps.

You must’ve noticed him staring at you, because you look up, meeting his stare. You immediately sit up and smile, gesturing to him to come over. Shit, he thinks, this is the last thing he wanted to happen. Sitting with you and your friends could ruin his chances of talking to other people, but it’s kind of too late. All of your friends are looking at him too, so he really has no choice but to trudge up the stairs and take the spot next to you on the bleachers.

“Jungkook, these are my friends, Ni-ki, Giselle and Eunchae,” You point to each respective person, “Guys, this is Jungkook, a freshie I met in History. He’s cool.”

Jungkook kind of feels giddy at the fact that you, someone who is the definition of cool, said that about him. Jungkook waves to which your friends raise a brow, so he awkwardly lowers what must’ve been his over eager hand.

“What brings you here?” You ask, sipping on your soda and watching him intently. Jungkook awkwardly fiddles with his fingers.

“I guess I was just hoping to meet someone new, y’know, get involved,” He explains, immediately feeling stupid by his choice of words. You smile like you find it endearing.

“Well, if you want some advice, stay away from the preppy kids, aka my brother and his bitches,” You laugh at your own joke. Jungkook feels surprised that you’re related to someone who is deemed as preppy. Even though those kids in class earlier said that you are rich, it just seems unlikely.

The game progresses, and you continue to chat his ear off with meaningless small talk like where Jungkook is from and how old he is, to which you responded with a gasp when he said he was eighteen, pointing out your guys’ three year age difference. Jungkook didn’t know why you were so surprised considering he is a freshman and you are a junior, but whatever.

Jungkook grows rather antsy to leave. He feels uncomfortable being associated with you, and the way you’re eating your hotdog is too erotic for a football game. The way the ketchup resides on your lip, how you suck on your fingers to get the remnants off and the way your lips stretch around the hot dog is causing a problem in his pants that is rather embarrassing. He feels relieved once the game ends and he is able to disappear into the crowd without you noticing.

He awkwardly adjusts himself before braving the night, pulling his sweater tighter around his body. He doesn’t like these thoughts he’s having. He’s never really thought about girls this way before. He doesn’t know what it is about you; he’s already decided he doesn’t like you.

Jungkook ducks under the bleachers, feeling way too flustered to continue the walk to his dorm. He tries to think about disgusting thoughts like spiders and B minuses, but every time he closes his eyes all he can see is you and your infectious smile.

“Fuck,” He swears under his breath, fisting his sweater as he tries to steady his breathing. He hears what sounds like kissing to his right, and out of pure curiosity he peeks an eye open to look.

You’re standing with your back against the bleachers, and a football player has one hand by your head and the other up your shirt. He is kissing you passionately, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook feels as if he might puke. He immediately turns around to leave, but it’s too late.

“Jungkook!” He hears you say. He slowly turns around as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. You smirk slyly at the football player, pushing him off you playfully.

“I’ll text you,” You whisper before bouncing up to Jungkook, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out from underneath the bleachers, “C’mon, lets go to Seven Eleven.”

Jungkook isn’t sure why you picked him to take you to a gas station at 9 o’clock at night, but he doesn’t question it. According to you, it isn’t that long of a walk and you’re bored. Honestly, Jungkook is kind of glad because he really didn’t want to head back to his dorm. Plus, his previous “problem” was now just a slight tent in his pants, one that you probably wouldn’t notice.

You two walk in silence, the sound of crickets filling the air as you try to balance on the curb. Jungkook feels incredibly awkward as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“So, what kind of music are you into?” You suddenly ask, catching him off guard. Jungkook clears his throat. For some reason, he doesn’t want to confess that his favorite band is One Direction and that Red by Taylor Swift is on loop in his bedroom. He assumes you listen to cool indie-rock bands and would laugh in his face if he told you his rather basic taste.

“I don’t really listen to music,” He resolves to tell you. Your face is overcome with a shocked expression, as if you can’t believe what you just heard.

“Seriously? I can’t believe that. I listen to music every second of every day.”

“Like what?” Jungkook inquires, not that he really cares all that much, but he likes the way your face lights up when he asks, like you’ve been waiting for someone to ask you this.

“Oh, I dunno, a little bit of everything. Arctic Monkeys, Radiohead, The Neighbourhood, Lorde, Lana Del Rey-”

“Lana Del Rey? That singer with the terrible performance on SNL two years ago?” Jungkook retorts.

“Uh, excuse me, that was iconic. Also, you didn’t let me finish. One Direction, Taylor Swift,” You tease him, flashing two peace signs, imitating the song “22”. Jungkook’s face immediately flushes.

“How did you know?” He asks, and you giggle.

“Your FaceBook is rather telling,” You tease, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a little flattered you went and took the time to look at his FaceBook. He wishes it was cooler, but he wasn’t concerned with impressing people until now.

You two reach Seven Eleven, the door bell ringing as you guys step inside. It’s small, with only a few aisles and a slurpee machine. You beeline to the machine, humming as you do so. Jungkook can’t help but notice how many people admire you. You quite literally are like if tumblr was a walking and breathing person, and you are envied. Now, he doesn’t feel as embarrassed to be associated with you. In fact, he feels a bit proud.

You reach for a cup and start to fill it up, one half being raspberry, and the other cherry. You fill it to the brim before popping the lid on, some of the juice spilling out as you shove two straws into the sugary liquid. You meet his confused stare.

“Some for me, some for you,” You give him a cheeky smile before skipping up to the register. An overly tired college student suddenly becomes more perky once he notices you. You set the cup on the counter as he starts punching numbers in. You mindlessly fiddle with a new chocolate bar that’s sitting on the counter.

“It feels like they have a new flavor every week. Sometimes you have to stick with the classics, you know? They always taste best,” With this, your eyes purposefully train on his lips. The kid’s lips play with a smirk, his fingers fumbling across the register. You drop the candy bar, and it tumbles over the counter.

“Oops, silly me,” You say playfully, your finger lingering on your lip. The kid bites his own before bending down to pick up the candy bar. You skillfully take a pack of cigarettes that are for sale and shove them into your pockets. Seeing this action causes Jungkook to freeze. The kid comes up not suspecting a thing as you hand him a few bucks, paying for your drink. You give him a wink before spinning on your heel and walking out of the store.

Jungkook’s breaths feel heavy as you pluck out a cigarette, lighting it with a lighter you pull out of your pocket. His eyes keep darting around as if a police officer will jump out of nowhere and arrest you both.

“You… you stole that!” You blow some smoke out, the end of the cigarette glowing in the dark night.

“No, I’m just borrowing it. Want some?” You ask, but he hurriedly shakes his head, his heart thumping. He really doesn’t like this. You casually take a sip of the slurpee.

“I don’t get it. Why steal if you’re rich?” He questions. You laugh, but it’s more to yourself, and almost kind of disappointed.

“I wasted all my money I brought with me today on a bet that Ni-ki wouldn’t ask one of the cheerleaders out. Turns out he’s more fearless than I thought. And charming. He got her number,” You mutter to yourself, handing Jungkook the slurpee. He mindlessly sips on it, the sugar coating his tongue, and the ever so faint taste of ash.

“You confuse me, ___,” He says, forcing himself to swallow the liquid. You stop in the street, turning to face him. Your stare, although barely visible in the dark night, makes his legs want to buckle. You cock your head.

“And you intrigue me, Jeon Jungkook,” You respond. He cracks a smile that you don’t notice as you look around. Jungkook takes the moment to notice where you two are, because he hadn’t been paying attention to where you were walking. Now he realizes he’s in a nice street, a cul de sac with big leafy maple trees and freshly cut grass. You nod to the side.

“This is my place,” Jungkook looks over to the giant house next to you two, “perks of being a junior is being able to commute. Even if it is a five minute walk.” You chuckle.

Jungkook wants to hit you for how nice your house is. The pristine siding, the big garage with the newest car models, the large windows and tamed bushes. He had to work all through high school to even begin to afford college, and here you are with your fancy house, and your ability to skip classes that he wouldn’t ever dare because he knows every penny comes from either his or his parents pockets. All that, and you still have the audacity to steal from a gas station.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around,” You walk down your driveway, your boots sliding against the dewy ground before spinning back around and telling him, “Oh, and Jungkook? I’m glad that little situation in your pants was resolved. That would’ve been really awkward.”

With that, you walk off into your house. Jungkook stands there, alone, with a slurpee he didn’t want and embarrassment weighing down on him so much that he might collapse in the middle of your nice little street.

“Fuck off,” You tell your mom, trying to get past her to the stairs, but she blocks you. Her face is red from anger.

“Do not use that language with me, young lady. Seriously, the first day of school and I already hear that you’re smoking in your car and you’re late to class? Where even is your car, ___?” She yells. You groan in response, already done with this conversation.

“I left it at school.”

“Again? This is the kind of irresponsibility that I’m talking about. You reek of smoke, ___. I’m sick of this shit!”

“So stop forcing your beliefs on me and let me do what I wanna do! Maybe then, I’ll stop blocking out my problems with other shit!” You scream back, and she seems surprised. You rarely ever raise your voice, even with your parents.

“I am not letting you waste your life by becoming some kind of hairstylist. And I finally did it. I got you a tutor,” She says, and your face drops. Is she serious? A tutor?

“Are you fucking serious?” You scream, and a smug look melts onto her features.

“Yup, because I’m honestly sick of it. And you can deal with the embarrassment of being tutored by a freshman,” You freeze in place. What did she just say?

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that’s right, a freshman. He was extremely eager when we posted the advertisement, and said he needed the money. So, from now on, every Friday night when you want to go out to your little parties, you’ll have your tutoring sessions. And you’re cut off for further notice.”

Although the aspect about you being financially cut off causes your jaw to drop, you can’t help but feel a little suspicious and distantly giddy after your mother mentions that your mother hired a male freshman to be your tutor- especially since you are so interested in one lately.

“What’s his name?” You question.

“Jeon Jungkook,” Your mom answers, crossing her arms and smiling smugly. You’re smiling, too, but for a completely different reason.

Jungkook stares straight ahead on the email on his computer, his mouth gaping. When he signed up for the tutoring program, he didn’t know that his only client would frustrate yet intrigue him as much as you did. And now, he’d be spending every Friday with you at your house, helping you study for classes he’d taken in high school.

“You’re fucked, man. If you got a boner just from watching her eat a fucking hot dog, then you’re screwed,” Yoongi remarks, fiddling with his controller, his eyes trained on his PC. Jungkook sighs heavily, fed up with his roommate who hasn’t shut up about the information he accidentally spilled.

“Can you shut up for a minute?” He mutters back, leaning back in his desk chair and rubbing his temples. As much as he hates it, Yoongi may be right.

He would be helping you with Algebra, English 103 and General Psychology, all classes you failed last year and had to retake. Easy for him to teach you, but he’s not sure how much you’ll listen to him. He has a feeling you’ll just tease him the entire time.

An idea pops into his head. Maybe if he offers you something, you’ll listen. He briefly considers using cigarettes as leverage, but he doesn’t want to feed into your addiction and he doesn’t even think he’s old enough to buy them.

He looks behind him to make sure that Yoongi isn’t watching before going on Instagram and looking up your name. He tells himself it’s to find some other interests to hold over your head, but really it’s because he’s interested in your personal life. Who you really are.

He presses on your profile to be transported to an underground rock concert. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. Pictures of polaroids of you at music festivals, ones with hazy gray filters of you posing with peace signs covering your face, photos taken at the back of whatever newest hair color you’ve chosen. He smiles as he scroll through them, carefully analyzing each picture, feeling as though he’s been invited into your life.

As he scrolls further, the filters start disappearing and the colors become brighter. As you become younger, he sees you smile more, and your hair it’s natural color. In the oldest picture on your feed, you’re sitting near a vanity, doing your friend’s hair and flashing a big smile at the camera. You look endlessly happy, and even very beautiful.

Jungkook finds himself frowning. He wonders what must’ve happened to you, with the way you are now. The constant clouded look in your eyes haunts him, and he can’t help but yearn to make you feel better.

“Damn, is that her? She is really hot,” Yoongi acknowledges, suddenly at Jungkook’s side. Jungkook switches tabs so quickly you would’ve thought he was watching porn.

“Fuck off, dude,” Jungkook mutters, powering off his computer. Yoongi shrugs and stalks off, shoving chips into his mouth. Jungkook stands up and flops onto his bed. As much as he dreads this coming Friday, he finds himself excited as well.

“You’re actually stupid as shit, ___, to be tutored by a freshman,” Ni-ki remarks, shifting in the chair across from you. You cross your arms and furrow your eyebrows.

“And you’re acting like fucking Einstein,” You quip back, putting down the book you were pretending to read. You and your friends are chilling in the library, attempting to study, but it’s unsuccessful.

Today is Friday, meaning it’s your first tutoring session with Jungkook. This entire week you’ve attempted to figure out what you two will be doing, but he has refused to answer you. It’s not like you’ll be focused much, anyway.

You honestly feel kind of excited. You can’t stop thinking about him, even after you invited that jock you were kissing under the bleachers to your house. As he slowly lifted off your shirt, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and pretend his rough hands were smooth like you imagine Jungkook’s would be.

“Speaking of which,” Eunchae says, looking at the door. You peek over to spot Jungkook walking in, his glasses perched on his nose, his hair messy after a long day at school. You can’t help as your lips twitch into a smile. He’s too cute.

“Oh, don’t tell me you had a crush on that boy!” Giselle says as she slaps your side. You swat her hand away.

“Poor kid. He’s so innocent. ___, do you have a corruption kink?” Eunchae laughs, and you shake your head profusely.

“No, no! He’s just… interesting. That’s it,” You reply, flashing your friends a middle finger as you get up, “I’ll be right back.”

You follow Jungkook as he stalks towards the bookshelves, giggling to yourself as his finger brushes against the books. He clicks his tongue, stopping at a book and plucking it out. You watch him study the cover for a few seconds before bouncing up to him and slapping his shoulder.

“You ready to tutor your elder today?” You ask cheerfully through his scream. He holds a hand to his chest, breathing heavily.

“You scared me.”

“I noticed. What book is that?” You pluck it from his hands and he replies with an annoyed “Hey!” along with a failed attempt to grab the book back.

“‘Informed Consent: The Validity of Given Permission in the Context of Psychology Experiments.’ Wow, you’re really into that shit?”

“Some of us don’t fill our time drinking slurpees and stealing cigarettes,” He remarks, angrily snatching the book back. You raise your brows in amusement.

“Wow, someone is in a nasty mood today.”

“Can we just go to your house so we can start the session, please?” He asks, apparently very aggravated. You send him an unfazed smile before skipping back to your table and grabbing your bag. Your friends give you knowing looks that you ignore as you meet Jungkook at the counter. He checks out his book and makes sure to throw you an annoyed look before leading the way out of the library.

You chat Jungkook’s ear off as you lead him to your car, unlocking the door with your peace sign key lanyard and hopping inside. Jungkook’s face scrunches up as he shoves the fast food wrappers and used up lipglosses off the passenger seat.

“It’s a nasty mess in here,” He retorts as you start up the car and back out of your spot, “And did you even check your blind spot?”

“Are we taking your car? No, so until you get one you can sit back and enjoy the ride,” You reply as you pull away from campus and start towards your house. Jungkook looks uncomfortable as he holds onto the handles, obviously not okay with how fast you drive.

You reach your house quickly, park in your garage and get out, Jungkook close behind. He seems in awe as you lead in through your large house and into your room.

You’re proud of your room, in fact, you’re proud of your whole aesthetic. You don’t have 1,000 followers on tumblr for nothing. Your room is quite large, with your bed in the corner, your desk in the other and a large beanbag by your closet.

Fairy lights are hung all around your room, along with plenty of posters displaying your favorite singers and artists. Your vinyl collection is messily pushed into a bookshelf next to your window, and the wall beside your bed is covered in several polaroids of your favorite memories. Your plush carpet is decorated with dirty clothes, and you lazily push them aside and flop on your unmade bed.

Jungkook nervously sits beside you, as if he’s never been in a girls room before, which you certainly don’t doubt. He holds his backpack close to him as he sits on the edge of your bed, furthest away from you. He pulls out some books, pencils and notebooks and places them in the space between you two.

“We’re going to work on General Psychology today. This is just a little test so I can judge your knowledge,” He pushes a packet your way, looking at you expectantly. You shoot him a look as you open up a lollipop and stick it into your mouth. He didn’t really expect you to study, did he? Especially when someone as cute as him is sitting across from you.

“I don’t really feel like studying. Let’s watch a movie instead. What are you into?” You question, and Jungkook’s mouth twitches in annoyance. He picks up the packet and places it on your lap.

“We’re studying. Do it. Now,” He demands, and you have to admit he sounds sexy when he’s mad. You challenge him with a smirk.

“Are you going to make me?” You ask lowly, leaning back on your forearms. Jungkook shifts, biting his lip and looking down.

“I knew this was going to happen. Listen, ___, I get you don’t want to do this, but I really need the money. Can we please just study? I’ll even bribe you. Cigarettes, slurpees, whatever. What will get you to focus?” He rambles, and an evil smirk forms on your face. You allow him to squirm in silence for a few seconds before answering.

“Hm, okay, I know what I want,” He perks up, offering you a smile like he didn’t think that would work.

“What is it?”

“Every session, I want to introduce you to a piece of my world,” You explain, and his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding suspicious. Before he can process it, you quickly move so you’re on top of him, your legs on either side of his knees, your hand resting on his shoulder. His eyes grow wide, flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Have you ever been kissed before?” You ask, and he hurriedly shakes his head. You move closer so you’re straddling him, and his breathing quickens.

“___?” He asks, and you smile, biting your own lip.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask. Jungkook’s eyes linger on you before nodding eagerly.

You lean down and press your lips to his. It’s quick and innocent, and since it’s his first time, you pull away quickly. He’s breathing so heavily you think he might break out into tears or something, but he surprises you by kissing you again.

You take the lead, moving your mouth in sync with his. Your hand naturally travels up to his hair, intertwining your fingers with the soft strands. You tug his head back to deepen the kiss, and he groans softly into your mouth.

You force your tongue into his mouth, exploring it and enjoying the sounds he makes in response. You can feel him grow hard against your leg, and you take the opportunity by grinding down on him. He moans in response.

“___,• He whispers as you leave his mouth to suck on his bottom lip. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t experienced in fields like this, but usually the guys you were with were experienced as well. You kind of like how innocent Jungkook is, how his body seems to react to your every movement.

You start moving against him harder, enjoying his groans and breathless whispers of your name. Jungkook thrusts his hips up, and you moan quietly, the sensation shooting pleasure through your body. You can feel heat pooling in your underwear.

You can feel him growing harder against you, and you can’t believe the sheer length of him. Apparently the saying is true, the losers are always packing. You try not to let a giggle escape at your own thought. Jungkook’s hands grip your hips, moving you harder against him. Judging by the way his cock is straining against his jeans and how his whines are getting higher, he must be close.

You can even begin feeling some pleasure yourself, but before it can get too far, you get off of him. He whines in protest, and you can only smirk in return.

“Can’t let your first orgasm by another girl be in your pants. Trust me, I’m saving you the embarrassment,” You tell him, but he doesn’t look appreciative. Instead, you bite your lip at the way his eyes are hooded and the intense gaze he’s giving you. You try not to stare at the obvious tent in his pants and you pick up the packet he had given you.

“You wanted me to focus, didn’t you? Well, here I am. Focusing,” You pick up a pencil and try to

focus on the work ahead of you. Jungkook shifts next to you, trying to adjust himself in his pants.

“You’re an asshole,” He mutters under his breath, and you give him a flirty look over your shoulder. You tap him on the nose with your pencil.

“Correct. Now, c’mon, do your job, Mr. Jeon.”

“Three guys on me, on me!” Yoongi yells through his headset, and Jungkook has to physically fight back the urge to groan in annoyance. It’s Sunday, Yoongi has not left the dorm the entire weekend, and Jungkook has been dying to relieve himself after you gave him blue balls on Friday.

He can’t even think about what happened without getting hard. Just thinking about the way you kissed him, how assertive you were, how good you felt moving against him like that…

Shit, he could already feel himself becoming turned on again. Screw this. He resolves to grab his bathroom bag and head to take a shower. Maybe he could take care of himself in there if it is empty, and if someone else was there a cold shower would just have to do the job.

He exits the dorm with his bag slung around his shoulder. He tries to not think about you, but he can’t. In fact, you’re all he can think about these days. He knows you’re bad news, but apparently his dick doesn’t, and there’s not much he can do about that.

“Hi, Jungkook!” The last voice he wants to hear pops up in front of him. He slowly looks up to find you standing in front of him, wearing the most casual clothes he had ever seen you in: a black crewneck decorated with stars, grey sweatpants and your hair that is now a bright pink pulled into a ponytail. Jungkook is quick to pull his bag in front of him so it’s covering his growing erection.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks. He notices that you’re holding a cup of coffee that you bring to your lips, taking a sip.

“I have a killer hangover and my house is out of coffee so I decided to stop by campus. I was just on my way out, but what a coincidence that I ran into you!” You point to the exit he knows is behind him. Jungkook tries to offer you a smile, but it comes off as ingenuine.

“I like the, um…” He waves to his hair, and your face brightens up as you play with the edges of your ponytail.

“Oh, thanks! Late night drunk decision, but I think it looks pretty cute.”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It’s the first time seeing you since Friday, and he’s hardly holding it together. He had to sit the rest of the session in pain while you finished the test he gave you- and not to mention you did horribly on it, considering that you’re a junior and your major is literally psychology.

“Oh, yeah, I think our next session may have to be in the library. My brother kinda a little bit heard us and I need to get him off our trail.”

Jungkook’s face heats in embarrassment. He was rather… loud, but he couldn’t help it. That was his first… everything. And you made him feel so good, even if you left him teetering on the edge, wanting desperately to fall off with you.

“Sure. Library. Got it,” He mumbles under his breath, walking past you towards the common bathroom. He wouldn’t normally be so impolite, but it’s you, and you either can’t seem to take social hints or don’t care. He assumes it’s the latter.

And, to his dismay, the bathroom has five other guys in it, so he punishes himself and his lustful thoughts with an achingly cold shower.

You lean against the dirty wall, the cash in your pocket feeling heavy in your zip-up hoodie. The September air causes you to pull your hoodie closer. Where the hell is Heeseung?

It’s Wednesday night, so your mom will beat your ass if you’re out too late tonight. You’re currently tucked in an alleyway, waiting for Heeseung, who supplies you with stuff you can’t get at the gas station.

You feel kind of nervous tonight for some reason. Like someone is watching you. You even flinch when you spot Heeseung enter the alleyway, his hood over his head.

“Where were you? You’re late,” You reprimand, even though you’re kind of relieved that he’s here. It’s dark, but you can see his eyes roll.

“The better question is when am I ever on time,” He mutters, slinging his backpack off his shoulder. He opens it up and shuffles through it a few seconds before pulling out a large plastic baggie. Inside are smaller baggies, with pills and white powder. Your lips thin at the sight. No one knows you do anything stronger than weed, not even your friends, so you always feel somewhat shameful when you have your biweekly meet ups with Heeseung.

You met Heeseung in your sophomore year. He isn’t a student, simply just a guy who lives in the campus town and makes a living off of selling drugs to college students. Even if that description seems off putting, he’s a surprisingly good guy. Kinda.

You reach for the bag, but he flinches back, his eyebrows raising.

“Nuh-uh, cash first,” He holds his hand out and you roll your eyes. You dig into your pocket and slap the wads of cash into his hand. In return he hands you the baggie, which you stuff into your tote bag.

“How’re you doing, ___?” He asks, counting the cash. You sigh, taking out your vape and taking a hit of it. The flavor of wildberry fills your mouth.

“I’m okay. My parents are on my ass lately about school and now I have a tutor.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay. He’s cute,” You smile, remembering what happened at your last tutoring session and taking another hit.

“Oh, you’re evil. I knew you were into the nerdy type,” He retorts, shoving the cash into his pocket and patting you on the back, “take care of yourself, ___.”

You watch as he stalks out of the alleyway. You sigh, staying there for a bit more before deciding you’re too creeped out. You kick off of the wall and exit the alleyway into the street of the campus town.

To your relief, the streets are busy. They’re filled with families heading to dinner or couples shopping together. You don’t miss the way that parents pull their kids tighter to themselves after spotting your ripped fishnets under your mini shorts, but you honestly don’t care. You just keep wandering, wanting to avoid your house. It’s been feeling suffocating lately, especially with Jimin making fun of your tutoring situation constantly.

You stare at your feet, the drugs in your bag feeling heavier than usual. You feel ashamed of yourself. It started with just alcohol to help your feelings, which turned into vapes, and then other shit that just kept spiraling.

You are so deep in your thoughts that you suddenly run into someone, and you fall to the ground, the content of your tote bag tumbling out. Fuck, you think, rubbing your head and looking up. Of fucking course, just your luck. It’s Jungkook, accompanied by some kid you’ve never seen before in an anime T-shirt.

You try to shove the baggie back into your tote bag, but it’s too late. His big eyes lingers where the bag was as you force yourself to get up.

“__-“ He starts, but you push past him, not allowing him to continue.

You barely control the tears threatening to fall as you push your way through the crowd, not even bothering to look where you’re going. You feel like puking. You don’t know why you care so much that Jungkook saw that, but you do. You press a hand against your mouth.

You find yourself in another alleyway, and you sink to the ground, not even bothering to think about the disgusting shit you’re sitting in. Tears are now spilling down your cheeks, a rare occurrence but something you can’t control. You feel disappointed that he saw, but even more disappointed in yourself. For being so dependent on material addictions.

“Hey, babe, you doing okay?” A voice asks. You look up through the tears. A man around your age stands in front of you. His shirt has several cigarette holes, and his pants are sagging low around his waist.

“Fuck off,” You tell him, not wanting to deal with someone trying to flirt with you. He chuckles as if you said something funny.

“The name is Tarzzan. Yours?” He asks. You rise to stand, wiping your tears with your sleeve. You really don’t want to deal with this right now.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You ask, and instead of taking the hint he just takes another step towards you. Shit. He offers you a gross smile. His hand comes to rest on your hip, and you feel like puking again.

“I can help to cheer you up,” He whispers in your ear. You try to shove him off, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he grabs your hand and pins it against the wall. Panic rises in you as his lips near yours.

“Hey, asshole! Get off of her!” You hear someone yell. You look over your shoulder to find Jungkook running towards you two. You cringe, knowing he probably isn’t all that strong, and the voice crack he had wasn’t helping his case.

“What-“ The stranger begins, but Jungkook catches him by shoving his shoulder and throwing a surprisingly hard punch to his jaw. The guy groans and holds his jaw, and you know you have mere seconds before he collects himself and rocks Jungkook’s shit, so you quickly reach into your bag and pull out a can of pepper spray.

You rip the cap off and spay it in the stranger’s face, and he screams in agony. Jungkook grabs your arm, and together you two sprint out of the alley and onto the street.

“Good punch!” You compliment, your hands still shaking from fear. You two weave through the crowd towards your University.

“Thanks. I honestly didn’t know I had that in me.”

You two don’t stop running until you reach your university’s campus. Fear still pulses through your blood as Jungkook lightly touches your shoulders, his eyes examining you.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? That asshole,” He swears, causing you to realize he really doesn’t do that all that often.

“No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up. I’m kinda scared to go home,” You admit, hoping he’d offer his dorm to you for the night.

“Er, you can come to my dorm. My roommate is probably asleep already,” He offers, and you nod eagerly. Your arms fall at your side as you follow him towards the dorms.

“Why were you in town tonight?” You ask, hoping he wouldn’t question what he saw in your bag earlier.

“My annoying ass roommate, aka my only friend, dragged me out there to go shopping with him for comic books. He ditched me after we ran into you,” He rolls his eyes. You turn to him. So, he probably followed you after you ran away. You try not to smile at the thought of him worrying about you.

“Your only friend?” You question, and he laughs breathily.

“Fine, one of my only friends.”

Jungkook leads you upstairs as you send a half-assed text to your mom about staying at a friend’s house to study. You know she won’t believe you, but you really don’t give a shit. You don’t want to be alone right now.

You forgot how small dorms are. From the entrance, you can spot their two beds, their kitchenette, window, and a communal desk. Jungkook was right, his roommate is already fast asleep in his bed. You smile as you observe the decorations above Jungkook’s bed. Small things like photos with high school friends and birthday cards. You feel like you’re looking into his life as you spot a ticket to an amusement park tacked up against his wall. You smile lightly as Jungkook begins to speak from behind you.

“I don’t have much, but here,” You turn around to see that he’s offering you a T-shirt and pants. You smirk and take them, immediately taking your shirt off. His face flushes and he spins around. You chuckle as you pull the much too big clothes over your head.

You sit at the edge of the bed as Jungkook fusses with his hair in the mirror. You can’t help but stare at your bag. Before you even know what you’re doing, you bend down and take out the baggie. You stand up and wander to the window.

“___, what’re you-“ Before he can finish, you open the window and drop the stupid baggie out of the window, letting it fall into the overgrown shrubbery below. A huge relief washes over you as you close it, a smile plastered onto your face. You don’t even notice how Jungkook is watching you with admiration.

“I’m proud of you, ___,” He says, and the sentiment is so sweet your heart might burst. It’s something you’ve never heard before.

“Thanks. Although that was a lot of money,” You tell him in fake sadness. He laughs as you settle into his bed. He grabs himself a blanket and a pillow, fashioning himself a bed on the ground.

“Too scared to sleep with me?” You ask. Jungkook scoffs.

“No, I just…” He trails off in thought, and his face grows red so he turns away from you, covering his head with his blanket, “need my space.”

“Mm, sure. G’night, and thanks for everything tonight.”

“Of course, ___,” He grumbles as if it annoys him to say it, but you can’t help but smile as you pull your blanket up to your chin, falling asleep quickly with his soft scent of linen to comfort you.

You don’t know what time it is when you wake up, but you know damn well it’s too early judging by the way the sun is barely peeking beyond the horizon utside. You groan as you turn to see what woke you up. Jungkook stands next to the bed, obviously changing into his clothes for the day.

He’s pulling a shirt over his head, and you can’t help but admire how his back muscles move, illuminated by the early morning light.

“I enjoyed the show, but it’s still way too early to be appreciative,” You comment, and he immediately spins around.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“Yeah, way too early. What time is it?” You ask, grabbing your phone.

“6:30. I usually grab breakfast and go for a walk before my first class,” He explains, running his hands through his hair, and you can’t help but feel jealous.

“Oh, fuck that. I’m not even up until my first class starts,” You retort. Jungkook spins around.

“How does that-“

“What am I going to wear today?” You wonder out loud, pushing yourself off of the bed.

“I don’t really have any of… your kinda stuff,” Jungkook says, pulling a couple of storage bins out from under his bed that must be his closet. You sit down next to him, looking through the bins.

“Well, I’m lucky I’m a pro. Hm, this’ll do,” You pull out a blue and white flannel and a T-shirt. Learning his lesson from last time, he turns around just in time as you begin to change. The clothes are oversized, but that’s not a problem for you.

You throw the flannel over the T-shirt, rolling up the sleeves and tucking the T-shirt into your bra. You pull on your shorts that you wore last night and a choker you had in your pocket. You pull your freshly dyed hair into pigtails.

“You really are talented,” Jungkook says, and you offer him a smile.

“Thanks,” You reply, grabbing your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, “Ready?”

“For what?” He asks, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You said you always take a walk in the morning. So let’s get to walking!” You bound out the door, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake.

Jungkook’s leg bounces under his desk, his pencil tapping on his notebook. His class is finally almost over, and after this is his next session with you. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. He’s starting to really enjoy his time with you.

He can’t help but remember your face when you dropped your baggie full of drugs in front of him. You looked so disappointed in yourself. He frowns as he remembers.

The professor dismisses the class, and he practically runs out of the hall, rushing to the library. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised you’re not there, but he still feels disappointed as he searches for a table.

He finds one pressed against the wall in the far corner. It’s half shielded from everyone else by a bookshelf, and he just hopes that will help you be less distracted.

He lays his bag down and pulls out his plans for today. Last session, despite your protests, he had made you take tests for all your subjects. You were most terrible in Algebra, so that’s what you would be working on today.

Jungkook lazily scrolls on Vine while waiting for you to show up, and when you do, you’re 10 minutes late. You say goodbye to your friend Giselle and walk into the library. He hates how good you look in his clothes. He could get used to the view.

You look around for a few seconds before spotting him. You throw him a quick wave, jogging over to the table. You set your stuff down, quickly propping your head on your hand.

“What’re we doing today?” You ask, and Jungkook gulps heavily. He feels disappointed that your session today had to be in the library, considering what happened like last time. He internally reprimands himself for thinking such thoughts before shoving a worksheet he made towards you.

“Algebra,” He says under his breath, trying to keep himself under control. He still hadn’t been able to relieve himself, and the effects were starting to weigh on him.

Surprisingly, you don’t protest. In fact, you pick up a pencil and get straight to work. He feels a little bit uneasy. You simply just ask questions every so often, and he explains the best he can. He even finds himself bored. Apparently, his expectations were too high.

Every doubt is shattered when he feels a finger linger on his hand. It slowly travels down his arm, and further down, tracing his torso in a way that makes his breath hitch. It stops at his waistband, and he stops breathing entirely.

He looks over at you, only to find you apparently very focused on the work in front of you. He gasps quietly as your hand disappears under his cargo pants.

You start to rub slowly against his cock, and he bites hard down on his lip to keep himself from making noise. His body almost immediately reacts to you, his cock growing hard underneath your hand.

“___, we’re in public,” He whispers lowly. Your eyes still don’t leave your work.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, and he lets out a quiet groan as an answer.

Your hand slips underneath his boxers, and his hand flies up to grip the table as your hand drags down the length of him. You’re hardly touching him but he can feel you all over.

Your hand grips the base of his cock, and you lazily glide up and down, reaching his tip. His fingernails dig deeper into the table, trying desperately to stay quiet, but it feels so good, and you’re hardly even trying.

Pre-cum leaks from his tip, causing you to glide down his length more easily. You slowly begin to squeeze harder, and he promises himself that he will never be able to jack off the same again. Not without remembering how good just your hand is making him feel.

He tastes blood as he bites into his lips harder, his eyes squeezing shut. He desperately wants to touch you, but you guys are barely concealed as it is. Your body is positioned in front of him so nobody could tell what is happening, but the things he wants to do to you right now just can’t be hidden.

You fuck him with your hand harder, and Jungkook can’t help as a whimper escapes his lips. It feels too good. His head hangs, trying to hide his face with his hair, but your hand forces his head back up.

“I wanna see your pretty face,” You whisper, and he almost climaxes right there. The friction with you hand feels so fucking good, he can’t help but thrust his hips upwards, fucking himself with your hand.

“Hey, ___, what’s up?” Jungkook hears a voice say. He snaps his head up. He feels horrified to spot the jock you were making out with under the bleachers standing next to your guys’ table. He also is horrified that you don’t stop. Shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I’ve forgotten to text you. I’ve been busy,” You say casually as if you weren’t giving him the most amount of pleasure he’s felt in his entire life under the table.

“With what?” The jock asks, and Jungkook wishes with everything he has that he’ll go away. You quicken your pace, and Jungkook grips the table harder. He can feel his orgasm start to build.

“Tutoring. This is my tutor. Wanna introduce yourself?” You turn to him, fluttering your eyelashes. He gives you a look that begs for mercy, but you simply just give him an evil smile and flick your wrist around him. He almost cries out and begrudgingly turns to the jock.

“Jeon Jungkook. I’m a freshman,” He mutters through his clenched teeth. You twist your hair around your finger. The guy introduces himself but Jungkook doesn’t hear a word.

“I’ll talk to you later. Good luck at your game tonight,” You tell him, pressing your pencil against your lip. The jock flashes a smile before wandering off.

Jungkook wants to tell you off for being so reckless, but he’s too focused on reigning in the moans that escape his lips. You don’t stop, in fact, you speed up. His nails are practically digging crescents into the table, and his hair begins to stick to his forehead. He distantly feels embarrassed about how worked up he’s getting over a hand job.

The pleasure begins to build, and he knows he won’t last much longer. He looks over at you with a begging plea. You lean over and brush his hair back with your free hand, placing your lips against his ear.

“Cum for me,” You whisper, the words brushing against his ear deliciously. That’s all it takes. He swears he can see stars as he orgasms, biting down on his lip and barely concealing his noises.

He can feel his cum decorate his torso, but he doesn’t give a shit right now. All he can focus on is the lazy gliding of your hand helping him through his climax, until he whines in overstimulation.

You carefully take your hand out from under his pants. He watches with hooded lids as you bring your fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting his essence left behind on your skin. He could get hard again at the sight.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to cum in my pants,” Jungkook retorts quietly after he catches his breath, trying to adjust himself. You simply smirk at him.

“Yeah, but then I realized how much I wanted to see you squirm under my touch in public.”

Jungkook’s face heats as he realizes how pathetic he had acted from something as simple as your hand. Seeing as though the session is over anyway, he collects all his things into his bag, desperately wanting to change clothes. He turns to you, unsure of what to say now and slightly nervous he had disappointed you.

“Uh, thanks,” He says, before internally slapping himself in the face. Did he seriously just thank you? You laugh in response, which certainly doesn’t help.

“Anytime,” You reply, and he practically runs out of the library, his boxers soiled, his dignity slightly bruised and a little bit horny.

“You gave him a hand job at the library?” Giselle says loudly, and you shush her, darting your head around the mall.

“Be quiet! But… yes,” You reply, smiling at the memory. How cute he had been, how big and heavy he felt underneath your hand. You can’t help but wonder how he would feel inside you, but you know it’s too soon for all that yet.

“You’re evil, ___! Did he last long?” She asks, and you giggle a bit before taking a bite out of your mall pretzel.

“Not at all. But it’s okay, he’s cute and his cock was fucking huge,” You reminisce, and Giselle gasps, hitting you on the shoulder a few times.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about taking his virginity! Well, assuming he is a virgin,” She wonders aloud as you two wander into a clothing shop. You absentmindedly pick up a shirt, humming to the song playing on the speaker.

“Oh definitely. But taking it? Hmm, I dunno. Maybe. I really don’t want to get my hopes up on a guy just to figure out all they wanted was to get in my pants. Again,” You roll your eyes, remembering your most recent ex.

“Oh, c’mon, ___. I don’t think he’s like that. He’s different,” Giselle tells you, and you know she’s right. But you’re not good for him, you’re the definition of a bad influence.

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t think I’m the type of person he should hang out with. He’s got a lot of stuff going for him…” You trail off, and Giselle grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at her.

“___, please don’t start with this. Yes, you make some bad decisions sometimes, but don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re one of the most optimistic, friendliest people I know. You deserve happiness too,” She tells you, and you have to hold back tears. You don’t know if she’s right, but maybe you should give it a try. Put your happiness first above everything else.

“Thank you, Giselle. Maybe you’re right.”

“I always am. Now, c’mon. We have to pick out an outfit for Eunchae’s party this weekend, and if you take Jungkook as your date, you need to look good as hell.”

You laugh as she drags you through the store. It’s true that Eunchae is throwing a party this Saturday, and you had planned on asking Jungkook to come with you. It’s definitely not his type of scene but you really want him to be there. You find yourself liking spending time with him.

It’s the Monday after your eventful session with him on Friday, and even outside of the sessions you like talking with him. He asks you questions that no one else seems to care about. He entertains you as you talk about your favorite music, your vinyl collection, your social media, and more. You didn’t think that anyone cared enough to ask about those parts of yourself.

What you love more, though, is talking about him. He doesn’t like to talk about himself much, but when he does, you cling onto the information like a leech. He’s really into pop as much as he’s embarrassed about it, and he’s addicted to Vine. He has a dog back home named Bam, and it’s his dream to attend Coachella one day.

He chose psychology as a major because he used to have a lot of anxiety that was helped by therapy and he wants to help others like that too. You love these bits of him, feeling like you’re piecing together the larger puzzle that is Jeon Jungkook.

The theme of the party is singers, so you decide to go as Lana Del Rey, and Giselle as Marina and the Diamonds. You buy a white mini dress inspired by the sixties, a flower crown, and chunky heels to emulate Lana’s vibe. You’re just hoping that Jungkook will agree to go with you. Maybe you’ll even take things a step forward with him.

Jungkook’s heart thrums as he knocks on your big ass door once, twice. It’s yet another Friday (A.K.A his newly favorite day), and you guys had planned to meet at your house this time. You had briefly mentioned hanging out at his dorm, but Jungkook quickly refused. He knew that Yoongi would be drooling over you and he’d rather drop dead than let that happen.

Considering how all the other sessions have gone, he can’t help but feel excited for how this one will go. He also likes hanging out with you. Like, a lot. You make fun of him sometimes, but he doesn’t mind. Your laugh is soon becoming his favorite sound.

You open the door with a wide smile. You weren’t at school today, and he can guess what you were doing to fill the time. Your hair is now a silky lavender color, the strands pulled into two pigtails, your hands stained purple from the effort. You’re wearing an off the shoulder T-shirt of a movie from the 80’s, a mini denim skirt and dirty converse. Jungkook immediately feels stupid in his red flannel and skinny jeans.

“What’s that?” You ask, your gaze floating to the box balancing in his hands. Jungkook clears his throat and awkwardly fumbles with the top before pulling it open.

“They’re red velvet cookies,” He explains, “The other week you were talking about how much you love them so I made them for you.”

Jungkook feels entirely confused when you throw your head back laughing.

“No, silly, Red Velvet, like the new kpop group!” You say through your laughter, to which Jungkook just feels more confused.

“Kpop?” He asks. You throw a wider smile at him.

“Yeah, y’know, like Gangnam Style? It’s a type of music,” You explain. Jungkook facepalms himself.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No, no! Luckily, Red Velvet also happens to be my favorite flavor,” You pluck a cookie out of the tray and pop it into your mouth, “Now let’s get to learning, Nerd.”

Jungkook follows you into your house, his face still a little red from the whole cookie situation but glad it ended up working out in his favor. He also is happy that your annoying brother Jimin isn’t home.

His face heats as he enters your room, remembering what happened last time he was here. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been imagining what this session would be like. Or, per se, what you would do to him.

“I got a B- on my Algebra test. I know it’s not that impressive, but I was proud of myself,” You remark, plopping down on your bed. Jungkook follows, awkwardly placing the cookies and his backpack next to himself.

“No, ___, that’s good! I’m proud of you,” He remarks, and you give him a smile that makes him believe you’ve never been told that before.

“Thank you. I’m also doing way better in English. General Psychology is the only thing I’m struggling with, though…” You trail off, twirling a piece of your lavender hair around your finger. Jungkook frowns.

“Isn’t that your major?” He asks, even though he knows that answer. It’s just strange to him that you’re a junior, so you will have been studying psychology for three years already, yet that’s what you’re struggling with most. You sigh in response.

“Yeah, it’s just fucking boring as hell,” You say, and your response just confuses him more.

“So why is that your major?” He questions, and your eyes cloud over. You go silent for so long that he thinks you’re just going to ignore him, but you finally speak again.

“I wish it wasn’t. My parents are forcing me to study it. Because God forbid one of their kids wants to do anything besides work in a career that will get you a shit ton of money and simultaneously make you want to jump off a bridge.”

“What do you wanna do?” He asks, genuinely curious. You purse your lips, staring at the strand of hair you have wrapped around your finger.

“Cosmetology. I want to do hair. It’s my biggest passion. But my parents would never let me,” You admit, and Jungkook mulls over your confession before grabbing your hand and forcing you to look at him.

“Who gives a shit what they think? Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? It’s your life, ___, and you deserve to be happy. It’s not your parents , not your brothers, but it’s yours. And you should take charge of it, because the last word I think of when I think of you is ‘pushover’.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, your lips pulling up into a smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook. Maybe I will work up the courage one day. But I have a Psych test next week, and we’ve already wasted a lot of time,” You say, glancing at your clock as Jungkook chuckles.

Today he helps you work on studying for your test and writing a research paper. You actually seem focused and determined to learn more, which is such a stark difference from how this started. Jungkook, however, can’t stop his mind from traveling to dirty places.

He keeps glancing down at the bed, gnawing on his lip. You seem so concentrated, but he’s having a growing problem in his pants. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on math equations and how bad the bathrooms at uni smell after lunch.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” You ask, looking up at him under your lashes. He swears his glasses fog up as he clears his throat.

“Uh, we-well, I…,” He sighs heavily, “I guess I was just wondering what new thing we are going to try today.” You chuckle at his response, suddenly dropping your pencil. He gulps as you turn around and bend over, trying not to stare at your ass as you dig for something under your bed.

You find it, releasing a small “ah-ha!”, turning around and presenting it to him. Jungkook’s eyebrows raise as he tries to discern what’s in your hand.

“Is that a highlighter? Like the one you were eating on the first day of school?” He asks, and you giggle.

“No, silly, it’s a vape. Do you know what they are?” You ask, and Jungkook feels his face go red. He can’t believe he embarrassed himself like that.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies, which is true. He’s seen plenty of angst teenage movies to know what they are, he had just never seen one in person. This one is different from the one you had on the first day of school; this one is a neon blue instead of a baby pink, and you had bejeweled it with your initials.

“Then here. I want you to try it,” You hold it out in front of you. Jungkook stares at the tiny thing, slightly disappointed this would be what you’re making him do. He has also never done anything like this before, but he wants to make you happy, so he takes it from you, wearily holding it, lost as to what to do.

“Just put that part to your lips and breathe in,” You instruct, and he follows your directions.

Hot air fills his lungs, flavored something pungent (blueberry? blue raspberry?), and he coughs. He coughs so hard he thinks he might bend over and puke. The feeling afterwards isn’t the slow, relaxed one he had thought it would be, but something regretful and he almost feels nauseous. He peeks at you, expecting you to be laughing at his reaction, but your face is stoic.

“Did you want me to do it again?” He asks, desperately wanting you to say no. He doesn’t know how you do this so often. To his relief, you shake your head.

“No. That was my last hit, anyway.”

“So what was the point of making me do that?” Jungkook asks, his eyebrows scrunched together. Why would you want him to just take one hit? He had figured that you’d get him high or something. You sigh, staring at your feet.

“I’m the first one to admit that I have a problem. One time I accidentally threw my vape out in the garbage and I dug through it for ten minutes just to get it back. Sometimes it’ll be the dead of night and I’ll go out just because I know I only have a few hits left. But I just let you finish mine because that terrible feeling that I need all that shit goes away when I’m with you. I wanted to show you that but this is the only way I know how.”

Jungkook quirks up a smile at your confession, his heart feeling as though it may burst.

“Is this your way of saying you care about me?” He asks. You laugh in response.

“Maybe it is.”

You press your eyeshadow brush against your eye, finishing your makeup and admiring your work in the mirror. You did a great job; everyone will know exactly who you are. You teased your hair up into a big, Lana- inspired look with a flower crown placed on top, a baby blue 60s mini dress and matching heels. All you need is a cigarette and boy problems and you two will be twins (both of which are very acquirable for you).

Giselle smiles at you through the mirror, her hair even bigger than yours with a bow, a dress similar to yours but in pink, a heart drawn in eyeliner on her cheek and huge bottom lash falsies. You both did amazing emulating your respective celebrities, and you take around 20 minutes taking pictures for your tumblr, just knowing you two will go viral for your looks.

“So, what do you think Jungkook will go as?” She asks, placing down your polaroid camera. You observe the pictures you two took as you think back to last night. It had taken you ages to convince him to come with you to this party, and he finally agreed but refused to tell you what he’d be going as. And apparently you wouldn’t find out until you got to the party as he was riding with his roommate.

“Probably something nerdy like Justin Bieber or something,” You giggle to yourself, just imagining that. Sure, he’d look ridiculous, but he’d also look entirely adorable. Your head snaps up when you realize Giselle is watching you with a knowing smile.

“Damn, ___, do you really like him that much?” She questions. You sigh, staring down at your shoes.

“Would it be terrible if I said yes?” You ask in a small voice. Giselle’s face grows serious as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course not. ___, you do so much to please everyone else. It’s time that you do what you want to do,” She reassures you. You give her a warm smile as you consider her words. Maybe she’s right.

As you two depart for the party, you can’t help but feel nervous. A strange, unreasonable feeling of excitement yet dread has filled your body, like your brain knows something you don’t. You gnaw on your lip as you park down the road from Eunchae’s house, the street already filled with cars.

You approach Eunchae’s familiar house, smiling as you realize how many people attended and how many actually dressed up. You spot a Charli xcx, a Lady Gaga, a few Taylor Swifts, a Drake, an Eminem, and so many more artists you can’t help but smile. You send a quick text to Jungkook to let him know you’re here as Giselle leads you inside, and you subconsciously search for his messy head of hair in the crowd.

“Sup, bitches!” You hear Eunchae’s already drunk voice as she approaches you with Ni-ki on her arm. Eunchae is dressed as Ke$ha with crazy glitter makeup and an egregious amount of fishnets, and Ni-ki as Marty Healy from the 1975 with his hair rumpled and sunglasses.

“Seriously, Eunchae? I don’t think it’s even ten yet,” Giselle remarks as she checks her watch. Eunchae scoffs, her drink almost sloshing out of her cup.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“It was already five o’clock. Like, four hours ago-“

“Anyways, ___! You look bad as hell tonight!” She interrupts, turning to you, “Where’s your little boy toy?” She asks. You’re wondering the same question. You can’t spot Jungkook anywhere, and you feel slightly disappointed. You sincerely hope he didn’t bail out on you.

“I dunno. Maybe he decided not to-“

“___!” You hear from behind you. You turn around, and you’re surprised when you notice Jungkook. Except, he’s definitely not dressed as Justin Bieber. He sports a white baseball hat, a gold chain, long denim shorts, an oversized T-shirt and white rimmed sunglasses that read, “Soulja Boy”. Well, you sure weren’t expecting that. Or that he looks so damn good.

He pushes his sunglasses up, and you notice that his eyes look smudged with eyeliner. He has that just fucked kind of look that makes you want to pounce on him. You might be more fucked than you thought. You also don’t miss how his eyes rake over your body thoughtfully, slowly.

“Let me guess, you’re dressed as Priscilla Presley?” He questions. Your eyebrows knit together.

“Who the fucks that? I’m Lana Del Rey,” You reply, crossing your arms. Jungkook pulls his lips up into a smile.

“Our generation is doomed. C’mon, I spotted some spiked fruit punch that’s right up your alley,” He says, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the crowd. You throw one last look back at your friends, and Giselle gives you a sly smile and two thumbs up.

Eunchae’s house isn’t small by any means, but it feels that way with the amount of people crowded around the house. Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightens as he pulls you to the kitchen, weaving between sweaty bodies as the bass line to “Boom Clap” thrums up into your body.

You spot the punch bowl and pour yourself a small cup, sipping on it and meeting Jungkook’s slightly confused stare.

“I thought you’d wanna get hammered at a party like this,” He remarks. You lower your cup slowly, shooting him a sly smile.

“I would, but I have a feeling I’ll want to remember tonight,” Without explaining yourself you down the rest of the cup and pull him into the living room where everyone is dancing, “C’mon, I love this song!”

You and Jungkook dance (well, you dance, he more so just jumps around awkwardly) for what feels like forever, and you can’t seem to peel the smile off of your face. Eventually, it slows down into the song “Halo” by Beyoncé, and Jungkook places his hands on your hips, swaying slowly with you like the most cliché movie scene ever.

“Look at me, slow dancing with a Freshie,” You remark, and Jungkook chuckles.

“And I bet every guy here is jealous of me,” He whispers, and his face contorts into an expression that reads he didn’t mean to say that out loud. But you giggle and blush anyway.

His embrace is warm around you and his scent embraces you like a familiar hug. You smile up at him. You don’t know what you’re feeling, just something amazing and wondrous and something you hope is eternal. Jungkook’s face softens, his mouth opening to say something.

“___, I-“

“Defiling this poor freshman, huh, sis?” You hear your brother’s annoying voice crone from behind you. The crowd parts for him as he pushes to the front, and you roll your eyes at his outfit. He went for Justin Bieber- if Justin Bieber was an evil dickhead.

“What do you want, Jimin?” You ask, stepping away from Jungkook. You notice as the crowd circles around you and the music dies down a bit. Jimin cocks a brow, folding his arms together. Your heart skips a beat when you notice your ex, Namjoon, step out of the crowd. What the fuck is going on?

“Do you know how tiring it’s been having you as my sister? Look at me, ___. Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect record, perfect family- oh, wait, scratch that. You’re ruining my completely clean slate with your disgusting character. Tutoring hasn’t been helping, our parents' punishments haven’t been helping. So I think it’s time to resort to a different method,” He leans forward into your face, “embarrassment.”

Your heart beats faster and faster throughout his entire monologue, and you practically puke as Namjoon pulls out his phone and holds his above his head, pressing play on something you can’t see.

“Message from ___, *BEEP* Hi, baby, it’s me, ___. I didn’t mean to get so mad at you for seeing that other girl. I should’ve been more understanding like you said. I love you so much and I’ll do anything to get you back. I will-“

“Stop! Stop it!” You scream, tears flooding down your face as the crowd giggles. Jimin holds up one finger as if to shush you. The voicemail continues to play from Namjoon’s phone.

“… and I promise I won’t get mad at you again. I just need to be with you! Tell me what I need to do. Please, I-“

“She said to stop,” Jungkook says from beside you, and Namjoon’s head flicks toward him, his eyes glowering with a gross, hostile look.

“Oh, yeah? And what’re you going to do about it? You’re her new little toy, huh? Well, let me tell you something. She’ll take the one thing she wants from you, but be careful, she’ll latch onto you like a leech, so clingy, so desperate for someone, anyone to love her-“

You don’t get to hear the rest of the sentence because Jungkook runs up to him and punches him in the jaw. The crowd gasps as Namjoon slowly turns back to him, holding his jaw. Before you can even process it, Namjoon hits back, and a full on fight breaks out. You don’t stay to watch, though. You slip through the crowd and out the back door with no one noticing you. You feel bad leaving Jungkook behind, but you’re so filled with embarrassment you can’t stand staying a second longer.

To your dismay, your brother is standing by the back door. You want to punch him and kick him and make him physically feel what you’re feeling emotionally.

“I’m sorry it had to go like that, sis, but you’ll start acting right now. It’s for the better, one day you’ll become a nice therapist and you’ll thank me for-“

Before he can finish his sentence, you rip his ridiculously expensive watch that he loves more than you off of his hand, throw it on the ground and crush it under your heel. He screams like you just killed his child.

“No, no, not my watch! Oh, you’re going to pay for that you little-“

You don’t hear the rest because you start running as fast as you can down the road, still crying, still feeling like a complete piece of shit. You pull your heels off and hold them in your hand, running faster towards nothing and away from anything.

Because you know everything they said was right. All you crave is love, but you’re too fucked up to receive it from anyone. Not from your parents, not from Jimin, and certainly not from Jungkook who doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you.

You eventually stop running once you reach Main Street, grabbing your extra vape in your purse and taking a hit from it. You haven’t done it since your last tutoring session with Jungkook, trying to become better for him. But now you know it’s pointless because someone like you could never change.

You sigh a breath of relief as the flavored air hits your mouth, the stress washing away from your body. Suddenly all your problems seem small, and they disappear in the smoke you blow through your nose.

Your stomach grumbles, so you resolve to look for something to eat. Around the corner on Main Street, you spot what seems to be a small food truck festival, and the air smells delicious as you walk closer, still vaping. You don’t miss the weird looks you get, but you honestly don’t give a shit.

You spot a taco truck, and suddenly gobbling down some birria tacos in your bed as you sob until

you can’t breathe doesn’t sound so bad. You go up and order despite how crazy you must look. As the chef starts preparing your food, you have way too much time to drown in embarrassment of the night’s events.

“___,” You hear someone say from behind you. You whip your head around and almost gasp. It’s Jungkook, standing there with a bandaid on his bruised nose and blood stained on his lip.

“Jungkook? What’re you doing here?” You ask, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Yoongi pulled me off of that asshole, but I roughed him up pretty good. I didn’t know where you went but I smelled tacos so I went in that direction. I know that’s your favorite food,” He offers a small smile that you can’t help but return. You told him that once. Once. And that was enough.

You shyly take your food, and Jungkook offers to walk you home, to which you accept. You two walk in silence as you enjoy your food, too hungry to wait until you get home. It starts to rain, and usually you would worry about your hair and eye makeup getting ruined but you can’t look crazier than you already do.

You reach your house, and Jungkook lingers for a moment, staring at you. Your parents aren’t home, but you would feel weird having him in the house with you after everything that happened tonight. Still, you can’t just leave him in the rain like this, so you offer for him to come inside. He accepts a little too eagerly.

You trudge upstairs to your room. You feel like absolute shit. You just want to walk into Jimin’s room and destroy all of his expensive little toys, but you know that would make things worse so you just walk into your room instead. Jungkook awkwardly on the edge of your bed as you throw your stuff down on your desk and observe yourself in the mirror.

You really do look like shit. Your mascara is smudged dramatically all around your eyes all the way down to your lips, and your hair hands in knotted, wet clumps around your shoulders. Usually when you feel like this, you would dye your hair, but it’s too freshly dyed to do that and you don’t want Jungkook to witness the mini manic episodes you have while dyeing your hair, so you make a side note to maybe dramatically chop it soon.

“I look like shit,” You say to yourself. You make eye contact with Jungkook who’s staring at you through the mirror. You turn around, making eye contact with him.

“You look beautiful. You always do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Jung-“

“No, you don’t understand,” He gets up, putting his hands on your shoulders, “honestly, screw your brother and ex for embarrassing you like that, and your parents for forcing you to do something that you don’t wanna do. Screw them all because they’re missing out on an amazing, beautiful, smart, and endlessly talented woman who, although she doesn’t think she does, deserves all the love in the world.”

After his confession, he punctuates it with a soft kiss. You look up at him, with tears in your eyes. For the first time in your life, you feel like someone actually cares about you. And after looking into his eyes, you’re sure he does.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You whisper.

You grab your vape out of your pocket, your growing headache pounding heavier and increasingly hard to ignore. You take a hit, relief flooding through your body. Jungkook watches you with narrowed eyes.

“You know I hate that you do that, right?” He asks, his voice low in a way that turns you on. Suddenly, your mood switches. You cock a brow at him, laying down on your bed, your eyes never leaving him as you place the vape between your lips.

“Yeah? Come and get it then.”

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, his gaze becoming heated as he takes a tentative step towards you. Your breath halters as his weight dips down into the bed, heat radiating off of him as he crawls over you. He reaches down, grabbing the vape with his teeth, his lips caressing just enough to make you gasp lightly. He pulls it out, and then disposes it off to the side. Fuck, that was hot.

He leans down to kiss you, but this time, it’s not soft. It’s hungry with desire, the same desire that you can feel pooling between your legs. How long has it been since you’ve had an orgasm? You literally cannot remember, and you’re feeling the effects of waiting so long right now. You’re so desperate for him and he’s barely even touched you.

He pulls away for a brief moment, his breath heavy, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“___, you always make me feel so good. Let me touch you, please,” He practically begs, and you agree so quickly you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed by it when the desire washes away.

Jungkook’s warm hands travel up your thigh, goosebumps being left behind his touch. His hand disappears under your breath, and your back arches in anticipation. He leaves small circles on your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you need him most.

“Jungkook,” You beg, and you don’t miss the small smile that pulls at his lips. He’s enjoying this, what an asshole!

Finally he presses against you, and you’re glad your parents aren’t home with the sound you make. He pulls your panties to the side, and his eyes darken even more when he realizes how wet you are.

His finger dips inside you, and you immediately grab his arms at how good it feels. He slowly starts pumping at just the right angle. It’s only one finger, but somehow you feel so full.

“You’re so beautiful, ___,” He says quietly whilst you’re at his mercy underneath him. It feels too good, especially when he adds another finger, curling them and hitting the right spot. He’s making you feel so much pleasure, and you have to ask him how he knows how to do this.

You feel your climax building as he begins to go faster, your moans becoming falsetto as you climb closer and closer to heaven. And all you can think about is him. His scent, his warmth, his fingers inside you, his soft kind words, his chain dangling in your face. He’s so perfect you could cry.

And you do as you finally come, tears pricking your eyes as you see stars. You’re embarrassed at how desperate you’ve gotten over only his fingers, but it’s been so long and Jungkook is everything you’ve ever wanted in a man, and here he is right in front of you, giving his everything to you.

Jungkook slowly retracts his fingers, and you practically moan again as he sticks them into his mouth, licking off your residue.

You lean forward to kiss him again, barely regaining yourself after that near death experience. Jungkook practically rips off his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his pants. You do the same, and you regret not wearing something sexier than just a plain black set.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask tentatively. Jungkook swallows and nods eagerly, placing a hand on your cheek.

“I’m so completely sure. I want to experience this with you. It’s my first time, obviously, but I want to do this with you.”

“Okay. Don’t worry if it’s not perfect. I don’t expect it to be. I just want to be with you,” You reply, to which he smiles. You reach over into your bedside drawer, grabbing a condom. Jungkook lays down on the bed as you open it with your teeth, throwing the wrapper away.

You slowly pull down his boxers, and are truly taken aback at how beautiful he is. I guess what they say about nerds is true, you think, as you roll the condom onto him.

You grab his cock and position it to your entrance, steadying yourself with your hands against his chest. Jungkook takes a deep breath, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“You ready?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. You slowly sink down. Jungkook reacts by grasping the sheets with his hand, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, ___, you feel so good,” He moans, one hand reaching up to tangle in your hair. You feel the exact same way; he fills you up so good, hitting all the right spots without even moving.

You slowly start to move, the sensation already sending goosebumps down your body. Jungkook seems to feel the same way, judging by the way he’s practically crying in pleasure and whimpering every time you sink down onto him.

You’re sure you look crazy right now, but Jungkook can’t stop telling you how beautiful you are. And you can’t help but believe it because you feel pretty damn sexy right now.

You begin to speed up, and Jungkook reacts by beginning to move with you, his thrusts causing him to go even deeper inside you, both of you reacting with loud and desperate noises.

Your second climax starts to build up, and you can tell he feels the same. He stares up at you as if you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You feel so perfect around me,” He whimpers, and you blush as if some kind of middle school crush. The hand still tangled in your hair pulls you down, and he gives you a breathtaking kiss.

His other hand leaves the sheets and rests on the small of your back, helping you to go faster. With that and the way he’s moving, you’re already almost there. You can tell he is too, and you indulge in this little slice of heaven he’s so generously given you. If you could live in this moment forever, you would.

Jungkook gives you another kiss, moaning into your mouth about how perfect you are, and with that you topple over the edge, screaming his name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear. Pleasure ripples through your body as your eyes roll back, and you practically cry from how euphoric it feels. Jungkook follows you into heaven, your name slipping from his lips as he grips your body, intending to never let go.

After what seems like a million years, you finally gain the energy to lift yourself off of him, helping him to dispose of the condom before dropping beside him on the bed. His arm immediately wraps around you as he pulls you close, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I know this is kinda a stupid way to ask it, but ___, would you be my girlfriend?” He asks tentatively, and you can’t help but give him a big cheesy grin at how cute it is.

“Of course, you nerd,” You reply, giving him a soft kiss. After a few more moments, he speaks again.

“Y’know, they offer cosmetology classes at uni. It wouldn’t hurt to just try one,” He suggests. You smile again.

“Maybe I will. And maybe you will put in an effort to be cooler, y’know, now that you’re going to be my boyfriend. Maybe less Taylor Swift and more leather jackets?” You suggest, entirely kidding because you love him the way he is. A stupid grin pulls at his lips.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

[luvikoo]

# THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE — PROLOGUE

Series summary : Jeongguk couldn’t believe he was going into university having never dated anybody. Never fear, you, his selfless and utterly amazing best friend, decide to him a favour. A week-long girlfriend experience. He gets to learn all the relationship dos-and-don’ts, and you—well there’s not much in it for you. But as the days pass, you begin to wonder why Jeongguk’s been single for so long in the first place.

Pairing : Jeon Jeongguk x Fem!Reader

Word Count : 2.0k

Genre : Friends to Lovers &. Fluff &. Fake Dating &. Crack &. Eventual Smut

From Freja : Hey all, welcome to the prologue of my first ever series, The Girlfriend Experience! This was so much fun to write, and I am looking forward to getting the plot ball rolling for these two!! Please enjoy 🫶🏻 No warnings for this chapter.

Series Masterlist

You love Jeongguk, you really do. You’ve known him since the two of you were kids who lived next door. Every phase, every milestone, every experience—you were there for it all.

One experience you’ve yet to be there for was the experience of Jeongguk’s first relationship. Or any relationship at all, for that matter. Which is where your love for Jeongguk ran thin.

He took every opportunity to bitch and whine about his shortcomings in the land of passion and intimacy, and you, of course being his only girl friend, were his lucky earpiece.

“I mean, seriously. I’m going to be a university student soon,” the boy whines, lips pulled into a pout. He’s laying on the bed, your bed mind you, brows furrowed in annoyance as he gazes up at the ceiling. “I’ll be studying Law. I’m going to be a lawyer. And I’ve never even held hands with a girl.”

“You’ve held my hand,” you say, raising a brow. Jeongguk just scoffs, sitting up and fixing you with a deadpanned stare.

“Yeah, but you don’t count. You’re like—my best friend. And I was six.”

You smirk. “You can hold my hand now.”

Jeongguk’s cheeks immediately heat up at that, and he covers his face with his hands, shaking his head at you. “Shut up, you don’t get it. The point is, how is anyone in university supposed to take me serious when I’m inexperienced?”

You couldn’t help but feel bad for the dude. Sure, you thought he was maybe being a bit dramatic about his chronic singleness, but at the same time, you’ve never been in his boat.

You’ve dated a couple of times—all disasters, of course. Jeongguk had told you more than once you had terrible discernment, and when you mix that with your questionable taste in men, you got the numerous failures all of your relationships turned out to be.

Still, it was your job to not only listen to his woes, but also to help him be rational about them.

“Come on, Gukkie, it’s not that bad,” you try to reason, giving him an empathic smile. “And I doubt anyone’s gonna be asking about your relationship history.”

Jeongguk just scoffs. “Sure, maybe they won’t. But what happens when I start to like a girl? And she starts to like me. And then she realises I’m nineteen with no dating experience and runs for the hills?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, raising a brow. “Wow, a man with no dating experience. Every woman’s worst nightmare. I feel so bad for you dude.”

He picks up the nearest thing, one of your numerous soft stuffs adorning your bed, and tosses it at your head. “I need you to be serious, okay? What am I supposed to do?”

You duck out of the way, catching it with one hand. What was he supposed to do? He could download a dating app, maybe. No, bad idea. You can hardly imagine Jeongguk on a dating app, and in your experience, the type of people on there would give the poor virgin pure a heart attack.

Maybe a blind date? Or a very carefully orchestrated meet-cute? Or…

Your mind lights up with an idea. “Well, I could be your girlfriend.”

Jeongguk sputters at that, face practically glowing crimson. His eyes go wide, gaze immediately darting from yours, trying to focus on any other part of the room instead of you right in front of him offering to be his girlfriend.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses, hiding behind his hand. “No way!”

You laugh, crossing your arms. “Not your real girlfriend, dingus. Your girlfriend experience. You pretend to date me for a week, learn all the things a girl wants and needs, and then with all of your newfound knowledge you’re ready to tackle university.”

One of your brows raises, a satisfied smirk spreading across your face at the idea. “Huh? Aren’t I so smart?”

Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head. “Smart? Smart? More like insane. I’m not doing that.”

You shrug. “Fine. Then don’t. Go to your university inexperienced and clueless. See if I care.”

You notice Jeongguk pause, can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes as he rolls the idea over in his mind again and again, seeing how it weighs with the pros and cons.

Then, after a moment of prolonged silence, he speaks up. “And what would this… experience, include?”

You shrug, rolling the stuffie over in your hand. “I don’t know. Dates and stuff, I guess. Navigating PDA, learning what girls like and don’t like.”

Jeongguk’s head nods along as he follows your words. “Okay..”

“But—if we do this, there needs to be rules.”

A firm, solemn nod. “Of course.”

“Good. Rule number one—no kissing. At all. Maybe on the back of the hand, or on the cheek if I’m feeling nice. But mouth kisses are a major, major no. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Rule number two,” you say, holding up two fingers for emphasis, “no falling in love with me. Seriously. It’ll just make things weird.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Like that would ever happen. Please.”

You narrow your eyes, grinning. “I’m just saying, it’s a risk. You know I’m irresistible.”

“Oh, totally,” he deadpans. “Just can’t help myself.”

You laugh, hugging the stuffie to your chest. “Good. Glad we have that sorted. Any rules you want to add?”

He thinks for a second, brows scrunched, then points at you. “Yeah, no telling anyone about this. Especially Taehyung. If he finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You frown, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. “Okay, but like, what if people ask? I mean, if I’m pretending to be your girlfriend, shouldn’t that, you know, include your actual friends?”

Jeongguk’s face twists. “I don’t know. Just… don’t bring it up unless you have to.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not how this works, Gukkie. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it. Full girlfriend privileges. You can’t expect me to act all secret-agent about it and then freak out if any of your friends so much as blinks in our direction.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed like he’s been mortally wounded. “Fine. But only if they ask. I’m not announcing it to the group chat or anything. If someone says something, you can confirm it. But you’re not allowed to, like, make a big deal out of it.”

You grin, unable to help yourself. “No skywriting, got it. Guess I’ll cancel the matching shirts, too.”

He shoots you a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I mean it.”

“I know, I know.” You scoot closer, nudging him with your shoulder. “Relax. I’ll be subtle. Like a ninja. A really, really affectionate ninja.”

Jeongguk groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

You smirk, bumping his foot with yours under the blankets. “Probably. But hey, at least you’ll be able to say you survived your first relationship before you even hit campus, even if it’s fake.”

He stares at the ceiling, silent for a second. Then: “Just… don’t make me look stupid, okay?”

You soften a little, nudging his leg with your toe. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before he leaves, you give Jeongguk his first unofficial boyfriend assignment—to ask you out.

He has until the end of tomorrow to offer you on a date, and he has to do so unexpectedly.

“Why do I have to do that?” he’d asked, incredulous and partially offended. “I thought you were giving me the girlfriend experience, does that not imply that we are already in a hypothetical relationship?”

You, of course, laughed at his stupidity. “Ah, my dear JK. You fail to understand that in order to date a girl, you must first ask said girl on a date. Win her over, take her somewhere nice. Woo her, if you will.”

And so, the rules were set. Jeongguk had to ask you out before the day was up, and he couldn’t do it in some obvious, half-assed way. No lazy texts or corner store “wanna hang out?” cop-outs. He had to come up with something decent, something you’d actually enjoy.

That was the real kicker. Not just asking you on a date, but figuring out where to take you, what you’d like, and then actually giving you a good time. If he blew it, that was a fail on assignment one. Immediate deduction. His final score? Tanked. Never mind that there technically wasn’t a final score, since this whole thing was supposed to be an experience and not a test, but honestly, those were just semantics. Not important enough to get into.

If he failed, you’d never let him live it down. That was a rule, too, unspoken but very much binding. Let the boy sweat a little.

.✦ ݁˖

Jeongguk is very much freaking out.

He doesn’t know why he thought you’d offered to help him out of the pure goodness of your own heart. He’s known you forever, something like that was entirely out of your character.

Stupid, stupid Jeongguk. He should have never agreed.

Now he’s up late like a fool, scrolling through all of your previous chats with him, plus your old Instagram stories, scouring for at least one idea of where to take you.

Sure, maybe the bar was low. Disgustingly, ridiculously low. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t exactly set a great precedent for first dates, or any of the dates that followed thereafter.

But Jeongguk didn’t want to just clear the bar. He was too good for that. He wanted to soar above your expectations, however low they may be.

“This is so stupid,” he murmurs to himself, running a stressed hand through his hair, tossing his phone onto his bed with a huff. “So fucking stupid. Can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

He stares at the ceiling, mind racing, replaying every conversation you’ve ever had about dates, romance, or, god forbid, your ideal type. Nothing useful comes to mind. All you ever did was roast each other, or complain about your disasters of a love life, or mock the painfully awkward couples who used to slow dance at school formals.

Jeongguk lets out another sigh and scrolls through your Instagram again. Photos of you with friends, you at the beach, you trying every weird dessert café in town. A highlight reel of your questionable taste, and yet nothing screams “perfect date spot.” He’d already ruled out the obvious—no movie theaters, no greasy burger joints, nothing that would get him roasted for lack of creativity.

He flops onto his back, phone balanced on his chest, eyes squeezed shut. This shouldn’t be this hard. It’s you. He knows you better than anyone. If anyone should be able to come up with a half-decent date, it should be him. He’s determined not to embarrass himself.

The door creaks open, and Jeongguk nearly launches his phone across the room in panic. His mother pokes her head in, eyes narrowed.

“You’re still up?” she asks, voice low and suspicious.

He sits up straight, shoving his phone under a pillow. “Yeah. Studying.”

She hums, not buying it for a second. “Don’t stay up too late, Guk.”

“Night, mom,” he mutters, waiting until the door clicks shut before fishing his phone back out.

Tomorrow. He has until tomorrow. He’s going to ask you out, and he’s going to make it the best fake date you’ve ever had. Even if it kills him.

[blushedarmybunny]

Fine Line | JJK x reader

♡ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x fem reader

♡ Word count: 3.3k

♡ Genre: smut

♡ summary:

Bachelor party. Jeon Jungkook is halfway there, halfway gone.

drinks, confusion, sex in the air.

A stripper in his lap.

A moment he doesn’t stop fast enough. And when his fiancée finds out? She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. She tells him to sit down and talk. Then she shows him exactly where the line is and what it feels like to cross it.

♡Trigger warnings: sexual explicit acts depicted and substance consumption.

♡ a/n: I got a hint of inspiration and i had to wrote it down.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2 Part 3 (Final)

The club was a fucking zoo. Music too loud, lights too bright, air too heavy. Smelled like smoke, sweat, spilled soju, and God knows what else.

Jungkook sat stiff in the booth like he was waiting for someone to shoot him.

His shirt clung to his back, sweat dripping in his neck. His drink was warm in his hand, untouched. He’d already had enough to stop thinking clearly.

Shots. Weed. That mystery pill that Hobi gave him. The edges of the world were blurry now and those fucking flashing lights that made his pulse feel like it was pounding behind his eyes.

The youngest in his friend group. He was still Kookie, still the one who could be teased into anything. This night above all others teasing was a given.

“Why do you look like you’re about to get executed?” Taehyung asked, tipping back his whiskey and smiling at the dancer on the pole.

“You’d think he was at a funeral, not a strip club,” Jimin added with a laugh. “You good, Kook?”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook said, voice tight. He wasn’t. He needed some noodles and his bed, not the drink Jimin placed in his hand.

Namjoon slid back into the booth beside him, clapping him hard on the shoulder. “This is the part where you stop being a monk and enjoy your goddamn bachelor party.”

Jungkook blinked at him, eyes wide, too wide, ike a deer caught in headlights.

“Guy’s acting like he’s never seen tits before,” Hobi  said, laughing.

“Didn’t he used to be the horniest little shit alive?” Jimin added. “Back in the day? Before Yn?”

“Oh yeah,” Taehyung chimed in. “Dude used to hook up off just eye contact.”

“Legend,” Namjoon smirked, raising his glass. “RIP to Jungkook’s long conquest list.”

Jungkook tried to laugh, but he chugged the rest of his drink. 

They didn’t know about the celibacy vow. They didn’t know he hadn’t touched himself in four weeks. That he and Yn made a whole promise about coming into marriage clean, raw, and ready for an explosive honeymoon. That he was holding onto that like it was oxygen.

All they saw was a quiet version of Jungkook trying to keep it clean.

He looked around the club, at the bodies moving, women dancing, tits bouncing, asses grinding.

Everything was a hazy pulse of energy.  Every flash of skin sparked heat down his spine.

His cock was already half hard just from existing in the room.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Don’t be that guy,” he told himself under his breath. “Don’t think with your dick. Just breathe.”

A dancer passed close. Namjoon shoved a bill in Jungkook’s hand and nodded toward her.

“Go on. Make it rain.”

Jungkook looked down at the cash, then up at the woman. She was covered in tattoos, curvy and her eyes locked on his. She spun and arched her back. Her thong shifted.

He hesitated.

Then reached up with the bill, fingers shaking so bad it took him two tries to slip it into the strap of her thong.

She smiled at him, sweet and condescending, then moved on, no time to waste. 

Jungkook’s ears burned. His hand dropped to his lap, he felt like a loser.

He needed air.

Instead, the music changed, slower now, dirtier.

And she appeared.

Tan skin. Long legs. Barely covered tits. A face like doll and a body like a fucking video game mod.

She moved straight for him, smiling her way through. Not like he was special,  just like she’d already picked her target.

“You’re the groom?” she asked, her voice high pitched.

He opened his mouth. Nodded.

She climbed into his lap.

Just like that.

His whole body tensed. Her skin was hot and damp against his pants. Her thighs gripped his hips. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so he didn’t.

She started to move. Grind. Pressure. Rhythm.

“Relax, baby,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted around like he was waiting for Yn to walk in and catch him in 4K.

He should’ve pushed her off.

Instead, he stayed frozen, jaw clenched.

“You’re tense,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear. “Haven’t had any lately?”

He inhaled sharply, pulse surging through his dick.

the guys started cheering from the next booth.

“Let’s GOOOO!”

“There he is! There’s the Kook we remember!”

The dancer pressed harder. Her pussy dragged over the thickening bulge in his pants.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth.

Her hands slid under his shirt. her nails brushing abs. She leaned in, licking the edge of his jaw. “You’re rock hard already. Poor thing.”

His hips bucked up once,  quick, animalistic. He couldn’t help it.

She gasped, soft and perfect. Moaned right into his neck. “Mmm, you wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?”

His throat closed.

He was sweating. Hard as hell. Dizzy.

Every nerve in his body was screaming yes, even as his heart beat out no with every pulse.

“You wanna go to the back?” she asked, voice tempting and slow. “I’ll ride you until you forget your name.”

His hands finally moved  to her waist. Not to pull her closer. To stop her.

“Don’t,” he said, voice hoarse.

She blinked down at him with her long lashes. “What?”

“Get off. I’m done. Please.”

She stared, then laughed. “What a waste.”

She slid off his lap and walked away, her heels clicking on the floor.

Jungkook just sat there. Still hard. Still sweating. Still shaking.

Namjoon leaned over the booth divider, squinting at him. “Bro. You alright?”

He couldn’t answer. He just stood, legs unsteady, and pushed through the crowd to the bathroom.

Locked the door.

He gripped the sink.

Looked at himself.

Hair a mess. Face red. Lips swollen. Eyes wide.

His dick was still hard.

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered. “I stopped it. I didn’t cheat.”

His breathing got faster. His chest tightened.

Water. Cold. Splash it. Again.

Did he want it?

Was that cheating?

Was thinking about it cheating?

He pulled out his phone with trembling hands. Thumbs fumbling.

Something happened tonight. Can we talk?

He pressed send. Then stared at his own reflection like it might judge him too.

The screen says 3:58 when he hits call.

He’s outside the club now. Alley behind the parking lot. Cold air dragging sweat off his neck, smoke curling off the second cigarette clenched between his teeth. His hands won’t stop shaking. He’s been pacing this same twenty feet of asphalt for ten minutes, heart slamming like a bass drum.

The worst part is... He’s still hard. Still throbbing.

It hurts now. Unspent, swollen against the front of his jeans. Makes him sick.

He nearly drops the phone when she picks up.

“Hello?” Yn said, her voice raspy and a little tipsy.

He winces at the sound of her voice. She’s still drunk, maybe half-asleep. His baby. His fiancé. Somewhere in a hotel bed in Bangkok, on her bachelorette weekend. And here he is. Sweating. Shaking. Full of shame and panic and someone else’s perfume.

He presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“Baby, are you alone? Please, just…don’t hang up, okay? Please, just…just listen to me for a second ” Jungkook rushes out, breathless, almost pleading.

There’s a pause. Distant music.

“I’m alone,” Yn said softly, voice low now. “I’m listening.”

The words land like a safety net, and somehow make it worse.

His head tips back against the brick. He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fuck. Okay,” Jungkook choked. “Something happened. Nothing happened, but…fuck…I need to say it out loud. I need you to hear it from me first.”

“I’m here,” she replied.

Her voice is clear now. Not warm. Just… present.

“They paid for a dance. the guys…,” Jungkook said. “I didn’t ask for it. You know I didn’t fucking want that shit, I didn’t-”

He cuts himself off, dragging a breath through his teeth.

“She sat on me,” he continued. “Full grind. Body to body. I didn’t stop her. Not right away.”

His jaw clenches. Throat raw. His hand curls in his jacket like he’s holding his own guts in.

“She was almost naked” he admitted. “She was bouncing on me and I-I got hard. I got fucking hard.”

There’s a silence on the line. He swears he can hear her blink then adjust herself in the sofa.

“Not because I wanted her” he added quickly. “My body just…it reacted. And I hated it. I hated it, Yn”

His voice cracks again, pitched too high for how he usually talks. He sounds like a fucking idiot. Like a scared little boy who got caught doing something he didn’t even want to do.

“I pushed her off. I didn’t touch her after that. I walked straight to the bathroom and stayed there. Washed my fucking hands five times,” Jungkook said, voice shaking.

He presses the heel of his hand into his chest. The pain there is physical. Real.

“Okay,” Yn replied, level and calm.

It’s not judgmental. But it’s not soft either.

He stares at the dark sky like it might give him an answer.

“I know I didn’t cheat, I know that,” Jungkook rambled. “But my dick was fucking throbbing under her and everyone was watching and laughing like it was nothing, like I’m just one of the guys…”

He grits his teeth. Swallows.

“-But I’m not. I’m yours. I’ve been good. You know that. I haven’t cum in three weeks. I don’t even jerk off anymore. I miss you so bad it makes my stomach hurt and then this- this fucking thing happened and I-”

“You stopped it,” Yn said.

“Yeah, but my body wanted it,” Jungkook said quietly. “Even just for a second.”

“And then you called me,” she replied evenly.

He exhales hard, like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Because I needed you to hear it. I didn’t want to sit on this and rot with it,” he said. “I needed you to know before I got home, I couldn’t lie to you. I couldn’t.”

There’s a pause.

“I appreciate that,” Yn said.

Her tone hasn’t changed. That’s what’s killing him. It’s like she’s holding back the fire, and he doesn’t know if it’s because she’s calm or a storm is coming. 

“Do you hate me?” Jungkook whispered.

“No,” she said firmly.

Another pause.

“I’m not happy. But I’m not judging either” she continued. “I need time to process. That’s all.”

He presses the phone tighter, feels the static in his ear.

“When do you land tomorrow?” he asked.

“Afternoon,” Yn said.

“I’ll pick you up,” he offered.

“No, its fine” she said.

“…What?” he asked.

“I’ll take a cab. You don’t have to come” she told him.

His stomach turns.

“Babe, please, let me at least see you…” Jungkook started.

“We’ll talk when I’m home. Not at the airport,” she said.

She says it gently but it’s firm, non negotiable. Jungkook leans into the wall, jaw tight, he’s blinking too fast.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I just-okay.”

There’s a silence between them but neither hangs up.

“I still love you. Nothing changed that,” Jungkook said quietly.

“I know,” Yn replied like a fact  “Sleep well, shower and cleanse that dirty club smell off of you”

“Yeah. I will,” he said with a broken laugh.

“Goodnight, Jungkook” she said, soft but distant.

He closes his eyes.

“Goodnight, baby” he whispered.

The call ends.

He stares at the black screen for a long time, then walks home alone, zipper biting into the bulge he hasn’t dealt with,  cold sweat on his skin. His chest is full of something he can’t name yet.

He doesn’t cry but he want to. 

He showers with the lights off,  cums in his hand just to get rid of it. He oesn’t feel better after.

The only thing he does right is leave his phone face up on the nightstand.

Waiting for her.

4:00pm

Yn: “Landed. I’ll take a cab, meet you at home in 40.”

He stares at the text like for a few seconds.

Reads it again. Then again.

Doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even move.

I’m not happy. But I’m not judging either

He keeps hearing that over and over again, its playing it like a loop in his head, like it might start to mean something better the tenth time through. It doesn’t.

He can’t sit still.

He paces around their apartment, floor to window, back to the kitchen, back again, Every time a car drives past, his body flinches, his neck snaps, his heart jumps, he wipes his hands on his pants for no reason. 

when the 40 minutes hit he’s already downstairs standing in the entrance of their building like a stray dog.

Hood up in good old hoodie, sleeves stretched. He couldn’t decide what shoes so he just threw on the first ones he found . 

A yellow cab slows to a stop.

He almost drops his phone.

She steps out and his head goes blank.

Her dress is flowy  in that light blue color he always liked is short enough that when she moves, it  shows just a little on her thigh, she has her sunglasses still on and her hair in a messy bun, No jewelry, she has a tiny bag  and a suitcase behind her, rolling quiet on the pavement.

She looks like the version of her he missed so bad it physically hurt.

And Yn doesn’t look at him.

Not right away.

He jogs the steps, heart in his throat, grabs the suitcase before she can continue, his fingers brush hers on the handle and he nearly flinches.

She glances up and her expression is unreadable.

Then she tips her head, she says with dry, deadpan tone:

“Don’t you want to greet me properly?”

Jungkook chokes on relief. He takes steps forward fast with his arms around her in an instant. he hugs tight. Desperate. His face in her shoulder, her scent grounding him like nothing else could. Gosh she always smells amazing. 

She’s Airplane cold when her cheek presses to his collarbone she hears his heart beats going faster.

She breaks the hug first.

“Let’s go inside,” she says, already turning.

He nods. Quiet. Pulls the suitcase behind her.

Yn doesn’t speak, Jungkook doesn’t breathe.

When they reach their door, Yn steps out first then reaches back and grabs his hand.

Just to pull him along his body just goes with it like inertia. 

The kettle’s on steaming, Jungkook  just stares at it like it might tell him what to say he needs to be doing something. Anything. He grabs two mugs,  swaps them, picks different ones then fills the wrong one first. Starts over. Keeps wiping his hands on his thighs.

He can’t stop glancing at her.

She’s on the couch now, bare feet as usual, Yn seems to be texting on her phone completely unaware of her what her presence is causing on Jungkook.

eventually he goes to her side and give her a mug.

She looks at him still unreadable, then she made a gestures beside her, he goes to her side like a grounded puppy.

Yn takes a long sip of her tea, then said with her voice is measured:

“Jungkook. I don’t care about the rest. I need to know exactly what happened when that stripper got on your lap. Every single detail. Don’t skip anything just because it’s embarrassing. Okay?”

He can’t look at her, his fingers clench around the mug, he doesn’t bring it to his lips.

“Okay,” he says with his voice thin.

He stares at a spot just over her shoulder.

“She just walked up. No music cue, no show, just, right in front of me she picked me, sat down, she was almost completely naked”

He swallows.

“She straddled me , full weight, her thighs spread over mine, and I could feel  everything. Sweat. Heat. Like body heat, not sexy heat. Just… hot. She pressed down hard  like she knew.”

His jaw tightens. Breath shallow.

“Her hands went around my neck then she leaned in and her tits were in my face even her hair got in my mouth…”

He wets his lips.

“She started moving. FIrst slowly, rolling her hips,  grinding…My dick-it reacted, like, fast. I wasn’t even thinking. It just was heat and pressure and I got hard.  She smiled when she felt it then she moved slower.”

His voice is cracking already.

“She bent down, whispered in my ear, said she wanted to take me to the back said she’d ride me till I cried.”

He chokes on the next breath.

“ i could hear the guys screaming and laughing , i could hear  the bass also my own blood in my ears.”

Jungkook tries to drink the tea but can’t. Sets it down on the table.

“My hips moved, Yn,  without thinking, i was thrusting up into her, barely but it happened. She moaned I think on purpose tried to make me feel like i was making her flushed”

He swallows hard.

“ I didn’t kiss her, I swear, Yn, but it was close. I think I wanted to just for a second. It was like i wasn’t in my body anymore like my body was betraying me.”

Jungkook hands are shaking now he doesn’t hide it.

“Then I panicked, I grabbed her hips , pushed her off and told her no said I was getting married, of course she didn’t care she just smiled slid off and moved on.”

He drops his face into his hands. Then rubs hard, trying to get something off his skin that won’t come off.

“I sat there douldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. I was still hard. It fucking hurt. My pants were damp. I felt like a freak. Like I’d ruined something I couldn’t fix. I ran to the bathroom. Scrubbed my hands. My face. Almost puked.”

Jungkook finally looks at Yn. His voice barely a whisper.

“I texted you right after that…I just couldn’t hold it in, I didn’t want her, I didn’t want any of it. I just froze then I panicked and then I left.”

Silence.

Not a breath in the room.

He watches her. Waits for anything, any reaction: Disgust. Anger. Sadness.

But she’s still.

Just… still.

And then:

“Wow,” she says  “That actually sounds… kind of hot, honestly.”

He blinks.

The world stutters.

She leans back slightly, arms still folded, watching him.

“The way you tell it?” she almost smiles “I’m surprised you didn’t lose control for real.”

His body locks.

For a second, everything inside him just…malfunctions.

His breath catches in his throat, his spine goes rigid while his chest floods with heat. It hits ike whiplash. Like she just slapped him and whispered more.

He stares at her. Literally doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t even know how to breathe right.

What the fuck kind of response is that?

His ears burn and his thighs twitch. 

What is she doing?

Is she joking?

Is she punishing him?

Is she…turned on?

No. That can’t be it. That would be insane. That would be…

His stomach turns. His face is on fire. He’s flushed to his chest now, skin prickling like she just undressed him with her eyes, but didn’t touch him. Didn't have to.

His tongue moves in his mouth but no sound comes out.

She doesn’t say anything else. Just sits there. Still. Watching him.

Not smiling. Not explaining.

Just letting it hang.

Like a hook in his ribs.

And he…he has no idea what the fuck to do with it.