𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕀𝕊 𝕌ℕ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔻 1
SYNOPSIS: Play my memory.You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Long enough to mistake hope for patience. Long enough to outgrow the little girl he never stopped seeing. He never broke your heart. He just never noticed he was holding it. So you decide it’s time to let go. And who better to help you move on than Jungkook himself? After all, if anyone knows you… it should be him. Love is unkind.Especially when the person you’re trying to forget is the one teaching you how to love someone else.
Pairing: Older best friend brother! Jungkook x inexperienced! reader
Genre: Angst, Brother’s best friend, Unrequited love, Mutual pining, Slow burn, Friends to lovers, Jealousy, Romance, SMUT , Sexual Tension, age gape ( a tiny age gape yn is 22 and jk 25), College AU
Warnings: Mentions of sex, mild sexual tension, alcohol (beer), emotional vulnerability.
Words count: ~4.4k
◁ II ▷
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The windows were open, but the lecture hall was warm. You were a few rows back from center, notebook open on the desk, pen between your fingers as the professor droned on and on about media ethics and source verification. Most of the words went over your head.
A few seats up and to your left your attention kept wandering to Noah, who leaned back in his chair with an arm hooked over the empty seat beside him. He'd come over from Sydney at the beginning of the year. He was kind. You forced yourself to look back up at the front of the class and wrote down something you would probably not remember. It all had to come easy for this. A crush on a person that didn’t see you grow up. Someone who did not watch you grow up.
A notification chimed in your lap. You lifted it just enough to see what the notification said but not so much that you drew any attention. Editorial meeting at 3 p.m. Don’t be late. You tapped your lockscreen and breathed softly.
The bell eventually rang, but you slowly packed up your things like always, waiting until most of the students before you had stood up. By the time you reached the aisle Noah was already at the door. He looked over and nodded, just a tiny tilt of the chin. You gave it back without smiling too widely and walked into the hallway. Outside, the air felt cooler. You re adjusted the strap of your bag and began walking toward the student center, where the newspaper office was located on the second floor. The idea of the meeting hung more heavily than it should have. Assignments were usually straightforward. Feature, the review of the event, rarely an interview. Nothing that went beyond a recorder and some follow-up questions. You had no reason to think this title would change that.
The newspaper office always smells of paper and coffee. That most of the usual crew was already there by the time you got there, spread along the huge table with their laptops out and cups half drank.
When you walked in, the editor named Minji, a senior looked up from her notes and nodded. “Good, we’re all here. Let’s keep this short.”
First, of course, she had the usual weekly updates reminder: a brief plea for more photographs covering this year's campus festival; five minutes of deliberation over whether editorials ought to help opinion columnists tighten their prose. You made notes without really needing to. Because your mind was going back to the lecture hall and the way that smile had come so easily to Noah as he looked at you.
Minji tapped her pen against the table. “New assignment. This semester the game design association is working on an independent project, a video game apparently. They are more advanced than the team a year ago and I need an actual story on that. How did it go, which challenges have you met with, how is that different from your usual student games?
"Someone should follow them for a couple of weeks, do some interviews with them, maybe even attend a couple of their sessions."
A couple of people shifted in their seats. Articles like these took longer to produce than a regular article. Minji scanned the room before her eyes fell upon you.
"You've been asking for longer pieces. This one's yours."
You blinked. "The game association?"
"Yeah. Jungkook's team. You know him, right? Taehyung's friend?"
Of course she would remember that. The campus was not that large and Taehyung always made sure that people knew who his close friends were. You nodded. "I do."
"Okay Perfect! That makes the first contact easier. Let's reach out to them this week to set something up and I'd like a draft outline of the project by the end of next week."
After discussing Jungkook, the meeting discussed other topics but you barely listened to the rest of the meeting. Your pen remained frozen above the page. Jungkook's name sat there in your notes, as if it was waiting for the right moment to reappear.
After the meeting finally ended, you stayed seated in your chair for a little bit longer than was necessary to pack your things to leave the meeting room. Minji paused in the doorway of the room as she waited for everyone else to file out of the meeting room.
"You´re good?"
"Yeah," you said. "It's fine." It wasn't fine. But you had already said yes without really saying anything at all.
Outside, the hallway felt too bright. You pulled out your phone and opened the contacts without meaning to. Jungkook's number was still there, saved under the same name it had always been. You stared at it for a few seconds before locking the screen again and continuing on your way. You would message him later… Or maybe tomorrow. There was no rush after all. Except there was and you already knew it. You sighed. The rest of the day passed quickly, you were in your dorm. The message sat in your drafts for almost twenty minutes before you finally hit send. You kept the tone light and professional, just as you would with any other source.
You: Hey, it's me. The newspaper wants a feature on the game association's project this semester. Minji assigned me for this subject. Do you have time for a short meeting this week so I can get an overview?
You placed the phone down on your desk and attempted to focus on the article that you were supposed to finish editing. Ten minutes later, you received the notification.
Jungkook: We usually work at the lab between 4 and 7 in the evening. If you're free tomorrow, that could work for us.
You stared at the reply longer than you needed to. There was no nickname in the message, no words beyond what was required of him when you both spoke about the subject matter.
You: Tomorrow at 4:30 will be just fine. See you then.
You locked the phone and leaned back in your chair. The apartment was quiet. Your roommate had left earlier for a group project and the silence felt heavier than usual. You told yourself it was just another assignment. You had interviewed plenty of people before. This didn't have to be different. However, when you got your laptop ready to jot down some basic questions, your hands were colder than they were supposed to be.
The following day you entered the engineering building in advance. The game design class was on the third floor, a spacious room packed with many tables, computer screens, and sound of the machines working away.
Jungkook sat on the other side of the room, with his headphones hanging on his neck and his gaze fixed on the screen showing a code alongside a primitive 3D setting. He turned towards you as you came in and nodded slightly. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You adjusted the strap on your backpack. “Thanks for taking the time.”
“No problem.” He indicated an empty chair in front of his workstation. “Just take a seat there. The others will come in in a few minutes if you want the whole story, but I can run you through the basics.”
You sat down and took out your notebook and your phone to recorded. There was something about the distance between you that seemed at once familiar and totally fresh. He seemed older in a way that people tend to look after not having seen them in a while. Same black hair and quiet posture, but the focus in his expression was sharper than you remembered.
“So,” he began, moving the monitor around to let you see it. “We’re developing an indie narrative game. Small team, eight people. I’m doing the systems work and a little bit of level design. The story is still being written”. You nodded and started writing, grateful it was an interview. It was easier to ask questions than remain silent. You asked what the project was all about, the concept, any major difficulties that were encountered so far. He answered clearly, relaxed, even glanced at the computer now and then to show examples.
Things went smoothly for the first twenty minutes. Then one of the other guys needed him for a minute, and you had time alone at the desk, looking around at the project files on the open computer, the sticky notes lying about next to the keyboard, the half-empty mug of coffee with his name written on it with black marker. When he returned, he caught you staring. “ You need anything else for today?” he asked.
“I think I have enough for the outline,” you replied. “But I'll probably have to come back a few times.”
“That's fine. Just text me when.”
You stood, but before you did, you found yourself hesitating near the edge of the table. “How’s Taehyung?” you asked, mostly to fill the space.
“Same as always. Loud.” A small flicker of amusement crossed his face before it settled again. “He says you’ve been busy with assignments.”
“Yeah. Deadlines.”
He nodded once. Neither of you added anything else. After a few seconds you slipped your notebook into your bag and took a step back.
“I’ll message you about the next time.”
“Okay.”
You left the lab still warm in your pocket and the strange, familiar weight of his attention following you down the hallway even after the door closed. You left the engineering building with your notebook still warm from how tightly you had held it. The walk back across campus felt longer than usual, but this time your thoughts kept drifting toward Noah instead of the interview. You wondered how people usually went from shared classes to actual conversations without making it awkward.
Near the path leading to the residential buildings you saw him again. He was walking in the opposite direction with a takeaway in one hand, backpack slung over one shoulder. When he noticed you he slowed down just enough to offer a small nod and a brief, “Hey”. You returned the greeting, managed a short smile, and kept moving. The whole exchange lasted only a few seconds, but it left a restless feeling under your ribs. You wanted to know more about him. You just had no idea how to start without looking like you were trying too hard.
By the time you reached your building the sun had started to dropped down. Your roommate had left a note on the counter saying she would be back late. You dropped your bag by the door, poured a glass of water and decide to take a warm shower exhausted by the day. When you're done, you lie down in your bed with your phone. A new message appeared a few minutes later.
Jungkook: Movie night tomorrow still good? Tae said 8 at yours.
You stared at the text for a few seconds. The answer should have been easy. Instead your thumbs hovered over the keyboard longer than they needed to. You typed that it was fine, then deleted it. Typed it again. Finally you sent something else entirely.
You: Yeah, 8 is fine. Can I ask you something?
The reply came quickly.
Jungkook: What?
You hesitated again, heat already climbing up your neck. The words felt ridiculous the moment you started writing them, but you forced yourself to finish.
You: There’s this guy in one of my classes. I think I like him. I just… I don’t know how to get his attention without making a fool of myself. You’re a guy, so… can you help me?
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
Jungkook: No.
Just one word. You frowned at the screen.
You: Why not?
Jungkook: Because you’re Tae’s little sister. I’m not doing that.
The message sat there, blunt and final. You felt your face go hot. Part of you wanted to argue, to tell him you weren’t a kid anymore, that the request wasn’t that strange. The rest of you just felt the familiar mix of embarrassment and quiet disappointment settle in your chest. You started typing.
Forget I asked.
You stared at the words for a few seconds, thumb hovering over the send button, then slowly deleted them one letter at a time until the box was empty again. In the end you left it unanswered. He didn’t write anything else either. The conversation ended the same way most of yours did when things got too close to something real: in silence. You put the phone face down on the cushion and stayed there for a while, staring at the ceiling, cheeks still warm and the weight of his refusal sitting heavier than it should have.
You woke up already thinking about it. The message exchange from the night before sat in the back of your mind like something you couldn’t quite scrub off. Every time you closed your eyes for too long you saw the single word on your screen again. No. Then the follow-up that made your face heat up even now, hours later. Because you’re Tae’s little sister. I’m not doing that.
You stayed in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling while the morning light pushed through the curtains. The idea of seeing him tonight made your stomach twist. There would be no screen between you this time. No chance to hide behind a delayed reply. Just the couch, the movie, and the knowledge that he knew exactly what you had asked. You finally forced yourself up and into the shower. The hot water helped a little, but not enough. By the time you were dressed and standing in the kitchen with a half-made coffee, the nervousness had settled into something heavier. You kept imagining different versions of the evening: him acting completely normal, him avoiding your eyes, worse.. him bringing it up in front of Taehyung by accident. None of the possibilities felt comfortable.
Your roommate, Hana, appeared in the doorway still in her sleep shirt, hair messy from sleep. She yawned, then squinted at you. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep much,” you answered, wrapping both hands around the warm mug.
She shuffled closer and opened the fridge. “Is it the article thing? You looked stressed when you got back yesterday.”
You hesitated. Telling her about the assignment felt safer than telling her about the other part. “I got assigned to cover the game design association,” you said. “Jungkook’s project. I have to follow them for a few weeks.”
Hana raised her eyebrows as she poured juice into a glass. “Jungkook? The guy with all the tattoos and piercings? He looks kind of intimidating.”
“He isn’t.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “You know what they say about guys who are good with computers…”
You looked at her, already wary. “What?”
“They’re good with their fingers.” She burst out laughing at her own joke. Despite yourself, a short laugh escaped you too, even as heat rushed up your neck. You shook your head and tried to hide behind your mug. “Hana.”
“What? I’m just saying.” She was still grinning as she stole a sip of your coffee, made a face at how strong it was, and wandered back toward her room. “Have fun with your research.”
You grimaced and stayed in the kitchen a while longer, staring at the dark surface of the coffee you weren’t really drinking. Tonight was still hours away, but the day already felt like it was closing in around the moment you would have to open the door and look him in the face.
You left the apartment later than usual, still turning Hana’s comment over in your head even though you knew she had only been joking. Outside, campus was already wide awake. Groups of students crossed the main paths in overlapping conversations, someone laughed too loudly near a stand, and a bicycle bell rang twice as a rider weaved between people. Music leaked from an open dorm window. The air smelled like warm pavement.
Your first class of the day was a media theory lecture that normally held your attention. Today the slides blurred together. You took notes out of habit, but most of what you wrote had nothing to do with the subject. In the margins of your notebook you caught yourself doodling the same small shapes over and over again. When the lecture ended the hallway outside was packed. You moved with the flow of bodies toward the main courtyard, adjusting the strap of your bag as someone brushed past too closely. That was when you saw Noah.
He was standing near the edge of the path with a small group of friends, taller than most of them, wavy blond hair slightly messy from the wind. He had a sharp jaw and light eyes that looked almost too clear in the daylight, the kind of face that made people look twice without knowing why. One of his friends said something that made him smile, and the expression softened everything about him.He noticed you before you could look away. After a short word to the others he stepped out of the group and came closer. He noticed you before you could look away. After a short word to the others he stepped out of the group and came closer. “Hey,” he said. “You’re in media ethics with me, right?”
“Yeah.” You shifted your weight, suddenly aware of how ordinary you looked. “Hi.”
“A bunch of us are going to that costume party at the fraternity on Friday. You coming?”
The question caught you off guard. You hadn’t even heard about the party. “I don’t think so,” you said, a little too quickly. “I have a lot of work.”
He nodded like he understood, no pressure in his expression. “Fair enough. Maybe next time then. You should take a break at some point though. You always look like you’re carrying the whole semester on your back.” The comment was light, almost teasing, but it landed softer than you expected. “You should smile more often. It suits you.” Before you could come up with a reply he gave you a small smile and stepped back toward his friends, already being pulled into another conversation. You stayed still for a second longer than necessary, the noise of campus rising around you again, then forced yourself to keep walking.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of library fluorescent lights and a blank document you barely managed to fill. When you finally left campus, the nervousness about the evening had settled beneath your ribs. In a few hours Jungkook would be at your door, and you still had no idea how to look at him without remembering exactly what you had asked the night before.
By the time you got back to the apartment the sun had already started to drop. You dropped your bag by the door and stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, Hana was in the kitchen finishing a bowl of cereal when you came in. She took one look at your face and raised her eyebrows.“You’re spiraling again.” “I’m fine.”
“Sure.” She rinsed her bowl and set it in the sink. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes anyway. Joon is picking me up. We’ll probably stay at his place tonight so you’ll have the apartment to yourself after the boys leave.”
You nodded, grateful she didn’t push further. Hana and Namjoon, her boyfriend, had been together long enough that nights at his place were normal. She squeezed your shoulder once on her way to her room, already scrolling through her phone for an outfit. You forced yourself to move. You straightened the cushions, cleared the coffee table, and wiped down the counters even though they were already clean. When there was nothing left to organize you went to your room and changed. You settled on an oversized with printed t-shirt and black satin short pyjama. Comfortable enough to look like you hadn’t overthought it, but still put together. You left your hair down and only bothered with the bare minimum in front of the mirror. Anything more would have felt like trying too hard.
Hana left with a quick “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and a laugh before the door closed behind her. A few minutes later the doorbell rang. You opened it to find Taehyung grinning at you with two large pizza boxes stacked in his arms and a plastic bag of groceries hanging from one wrist.
“Delivery,” he announced, stepping inside without waiting. “I brought actual food this time so you can’t survive on instant noodles again.”
Behind him, Jungkook followed more quietly. He was holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and a smaller paper bag in the other. He gave you a short nod, nothing more, and stepped past you into the apartment. “Got your lychee drink,” he said casually as he set everything down on the counter. “They only had the smaller bottles.”
You blinked. He had been doing it for years without comment, remembering the exact drink you reached for when you were stressed or tired, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Thanks,” you managed.
Taehyung was already opening cupboards, putting away the groceries he had brought like he lived there. Jungkook stayed near the counter, pulling the beers out of their cardboard holder. The silence between the two of you felt thicker than it should have in a room that suddenly smelled like pizza and cold sweet tea. You wiped you hands on a towel and nodded toward the living room. “I’ll get the movie ready.” Neither of them answered right away, You resisted the urge to turn around and walked toward the television.
Taehyung claimed the floor immediately, dropping down with a pizza box already open in front of him. Jungkook set two bottles of the lychee drink on the coffee table within your reach without saying anything, then opened a beer for himself. Tae stretched his legs out, grinned up at both of you, and reached for the remote like he owned the place. “Alright, hear me out we’re watching Mission Impossible. No complaints!”. You didn’t bothered arguing.
The movie is loud. Tom Cruise is hanging off the side of a plane, the wind is screaming, and Taehyung is laughing around a mouthful of his third slice of pizza from the floor. You should be watching, should be present.
Instead, your knees are pulled up against your chest on the couch, and Jungkook’s arm is stretched along the backrest just behind your head. Close enough that you can feel the heat of him without actually being touched is innocent and meaningless… but so suffocating. Your heart has been climbing into your throat since the opening credits.
When the end credits finally roll, Taehyung stretches with a groan and checks his phone. “Shit. I’m late.” He stands, brushing crumbs off his jeans. “I’ve gotta go. Don’t wait up.” He leaves with a lazy wave and the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.
Suddenly the apartment feels too quiet. You start gathering the empty plates and pizza boxes from the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He just follows you into the kitchen and starts drying the clean dishes left on the counter. His shoulder brushes yours as he reaches past you for a glass. The contact is light, innocent, accidental.
It still steals the air from your lungs. You wonder if the texts from last night made things weird. If he noticed how careful you’ve been since. If the silence between you right now is your fault.
He finishes drying the last plate, places it neatly in the cupboard, and walks toward the door. His hand is already on the handle when your voice stops him.
“Can you help me with something?”
He turns without a sound, stepping closer until he’s facing you.
Your hands are cold, your gonna throw up, you take a breath. “I need you to be honest… what’s wrong with me?”
His answer comes in that same calm voice he’s always used with you.
“Nothing.”
You swallow. “Then why does no one ever look at me?” Your voice is quieter now. Almost fragile. “Be my coach…Please.”
His eyebrows draw together. Silence settles between you like a held breath. “Ugh.. not again…Coach for what, exactly?” he asks after a moment.
Heat rushes up your neck. You force yourself to keep looking at him even though every part of you wants to look away. “Everything,” you say. The word comes out smaller than you intended. “I want to learn… everything there is to learn.”
He studies you for a second, expression unreadable.“Be specific.”
Your heart is beating so hard it almost hurts. You take another breath and make yourself say it while still holding his gaze. “I want you to teach me how a guy is supposed to treat me. Like… properly. And… the physical part too.”
The silence that follows is heavier than the first one. Jungkook’s jaw tightens slightly. When he finally speaks, his voice is flat. “So if I’m understanding this right, you want me to teach you how to fuck…. and the bare minimum?”
Your face burns. You can’t find your voice, so you just nod once.“Yeah..”
He doesn’t say anything after that and looked away first. He bites his lip piercing.The quiet stretches long enough that the embarrassment starts turning into panic. You can feel the regret rising fast in your throat. You open your mouth, already ready to take it all back. “Forget it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Fine.” The single word cuts through yours. You freeze. He looks at you for another second, something unreadable passing through his eyes before his expression settles back into that familiar calm. “I’ll do it,” he says. “But we do this my way.”
You frown slightly.“…What does that mean?”
He looks at you for a few seconds, expression unreadable. Then he steps a little closer, not enough to touch you, but enough that his voice drops.“The first thing you’re going to learn…”He pauses, eyes steady on yours.“…is how to stop apologizing for existing.”
You don’t know what to say to that. The words sit heavy between you. He doesn’t explain further. He just reaches for his keys on the counter.“I’ll text you.”
And then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment with your heart still racing and no clear idea of what you just agreed to.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chap, this is just the beginning hehe , trust me🥴😈( every time I say this is just the beginning I feel like Maddy in euphoria plz😭 my queen). Also sorry for any grammar mistakes, I know certain sentences aren’t very clear but I tried my best 😭.
Taglist: @ana-marais98 @tatamicc @poindexstar123 @eegyo @nuciforie @jkgivinsleeplessnite
