you match with Jeon Jungkook, your old high school rival, and the tension picks up right where it left off. sarcastic flirting turns into a charged bar meetup, where competition slowly gives way to undeniable attraction. neither of you wants to admit it, but the chemistry has always been there.
⸝⸝ pairings: jungkook x f!reader
⸝⸝ tags: dating app au, enemies-to-lovers, mutual pinning, alcohol consumption, jealousy themes, explicit sexual content
⸝⸝ wc: 4k
( 𝜗ৎ ) this was rushed, but thank you for 600+ !
you’re not even paying attention when you open the app.
it’s muscle memory at this point. thumb flicking up the screen while you half watch whatever is playing on your tv. profile, swipe left. profile, swipe left. a guy holding a fish. immediate no. another one with a group photo where you cannot tell which one he is. also no.
you sigh and sink deeper into your couch.
dating apps were supposed to be fun. or at least distracting. lately they just feel repetitive. same bios. same poses. same conversations that go nowhere.
you almost close the app. then the next profile loads. you freeze. there’s no dramatic moment. no music swelling in your head. just this sudden jolt of recognition that hits before you even consciously process why.
it’s him.
Jungkook.
your brain takes a second to catch up with your eyes.
the first photo is a mirror selfie at a gym. he’s shirtless, phone held low in one hand, the other resting behind his neck like he wasn’t even trying. sweat darkens his hair at the temples. his shoulders are broader than you remember. defined arms. sharp lines down his stomach. there’s a smear of chalk on his palm like he just finished lifting.
you blink.
okay.
you swipe to the next picture.
he’s wearing a black compression shirt this time, sleeves pushed up, boxing gloves hanging around his neck. there’s a bruise blooming faintly along his cheekbone. he’s smiling, crooked and cocky, like he knows exactly how he looks. you roll your eyes even though there’s no one there to see it.
“of course,” you mutter to yourself.
third photo. casual. sitting on what looks like a balcony railing, city lights behind him. jeans, hoodie, messy hair. he looks older. not in a bad way. just more settled into himself. more solid.
your chest does something weird. you scroll down to the bio.
“probably stronger than you.
i talk a lot of shit but i’m nice, promise.
if you can outdrink me i’ll buy the next round.”
you let out a short laugh.
that is so him.
familiar.
a memory flashes before you can stop it. high school gymnasium. the sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor. him across the court, grinning after scoring like he’d just personally offended you.
you shove the thought away. this is ridiculous. you have not seen him in years. you barely thought about him after graduation. there is no reason your stomach should feel tight right now.
you should swipe left.
obviously.
instead your thumb hovers over the screen. you tilt your head slightly, studying the first photo again. the confidence. the expression. the fact that he clearly put that shirtless picture first on purpose.
god, he’s so full of himself.
you swipe right.
immediately regret it.
“what am i doing,” you mumble, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. it buzzes not even two seconds later. you stare at it.
no way.
you pick it up slowly.
it’s a match.
your stomach drops. for a full five seconds you just sit there, staring at the screen like it might change if you wait long enough. then another notification pops up.
jungkook:
well this is unexpected.
your mouth falls open.
he messaged first.
you type back before you can overthink it.
you:
unfortunately.
three dots appear almost instantly.
jungkook:
still mean.
you snort.
you:
still annoying?
jungkook:
still obsessed with me?
you actually laugh out loud at that.
some things really never change.
the conversation slides into place without effort. like stepping back into a rhythm you didn’t realize you remembered. the teasing comes naturally. the sarcasm. the little jabs.
he asks what you’ve been doing since school. you give a vague answer. you ask about him.
jungkook:
trainer now. boxing too.
you glance back at his profile photos.
yeah. that checks out.
you:
so you get paid to stare at yourself in mirrors?
jungkook:
only when you’re not around to do it for me.
you roll your eyes but your face feels warm.
why does this feel so easy?
you haven’t talked to him in years. back then half your interactions were arguments. competing over grades. sniping at each other during group projects. trying to prove who was better at whatever random thing came up.
you were both stubborn. neither of you ever backed down. it should feel awkward now. it doesn’t.
if anything, it feels… familiar. comfortable in a weird, slightly dangerous way.
your phone buzzes again.
jungkook:
you still get that wrinkle when you’re annoyed?
you pause.
you:
what wrinkle?
jungkook:
between your eyebrows
your chest tightens.
he remembers that?
you stare at the message longer than you mean to.
you:
you’re imagining things.
jungkook:
am i?
another pause.
then:
jungkook:
we should get a drink.
your heart does an immediate, traitorous jump.
you stare at the words.
you should say no.
that would be the logical response. safe. normal. mature.
instead you type:
you:
why? so you can brag about how strong you are in person?
jungkook:
obviously.
you bite your lip, thinking.
jungkook:
what’s wrong? scared?
there it is.
that stupid competitive trigger he always knew how to hit.
you shake your head, already typing.
you:
not even a little.
jungkook:
then come out.
you hesitate for maybe three seconds.
then:
you:
fine.
his reply comes almost immediately.
jungkook:
tomorrow?
the next evening you tell yourself you’re only going because you’re curious. closure, maybe. that’s what you call it in your head while you’re getting ready. just seeing how he turned out. catching up. proving to yourself you don’t care anymore.
you definitely don’t spend too long deciding what to wear. you definitely don’t check your reflection twice before leaving.
by the time you get to the bar your nerves are buzzing under your skin, though you refuse to label it as nervousness. you pick a stool near the middle. order a drink. check your phone even though you know he hasn’t arrived yet. your knee bounces lightly.
you take a sip. the alcohol burns just enough to settle you a little. the door opens behind you and cold air brushes your shoulders. you don’t turn right away. there’s this strange awareness prickling along your spine. then you look.
and there he is.
he’s wearing a black jacket over a dark shirt, jeans, boots. casual. effortless. taller than you remember. broader too. his hair falls slightly into his eyes as he scans the room.
when he spots you, his expression shifts. recognition. then that familiar half smile. your stomach flips.
he walks over like he’s completely sure of himself. like there was never a chance you wouldn’t be here. he stops in front of you.
for a second neither of you speaks.
up close, he looks even more different. older. sharper. his presence fills the space in a way it never did when you were teenagers.
“you look different,” he says.
“good different or bad different?”
“good,” he says immediately. then, quieter, “grown.”
your stomach flips in a way you do not like.
you deflect. “you look exactly the same. ego included.”
he laughs softly and slides onto the stool beside you. close enough that your arms almost touch. and just like that, the past and present blur together. same teasing. same energy. except now there’s something else underneath it.
something you definitely did not plan for. and you have a feeling this night is not going to stay simple for very long. there is a pause, heavier this time.
“you really hated me back then?” he asks suddenly. the question catches you off guard. you frown. “you were competition. you acted like everything was a game.”
“it was a game,” he says. “with you.”
“that doesn’t make it better.”
“i know.” you blink again. that was not defensive. not teasing. just honest. you look down at your drink. “you were always trying to one-up me.”
“because you were the only person who could keep up.”
you glance back at him. his expression is different now. softer around the edges. “you know,” he continues, “i thought you hated me for real.”
“i didn’t hate you,” you say quietly.
he raises an eyebrow. “no?”
“you just… got under my skin.”
“still do?”
your breath catches. you should say no. instead you shrug. “maybe.”
he watches you for a long second, like he is trying to read something deeper. “i missed this,” he says.
“arguing?”
“you.”
your heart stutters. you laugh to cover it. “that’s dramatic.”
“i’m serious.”
he turns his body more toward you now. closer. your knees touch again and this time neither of you moves. “do you know how many times i almost messaged you first?” he says.
you blink. “what?”
“before we matched,” he clarifies.
“you didn’t.”
“because i figured you’d ignore me.”
you stare at him. “i almost unmatched you.”
he grins. “see? i was right.”
you shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “you’re unbelievable.”
“but you’re here.”
his voice is quieter again.
there is something building between you. not sudden. not explosive. just steady pressure, like a door being pushed open inch by inch. “why did you come?” he asks.
you hesitate. honesty feels dangerous.
“…closure,” you say finally.
he studies you. “and are you getting it?”
you swallow. “i don’t know yet.”
he nods slowly. then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches over and tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. the touch is brief. your whole body reacts anyway. “you’re tense,” he murmurs.
“i’m fine.”
“you’re not.”
you exhale sharply. “you make me nervous.” his eyebrows lift slightly. “me?”
“yes, you. you’ve always had this… energy.”
“what kind of energy?”
you hesitate, then admit it. “like you’re about to do something reckless.”
he smiles, slow and knowing. “maybe i am.”
your pulse jumps. “what?” you ask. instead of answering, he finishes his drink, sets the glass down, and stands. “come on,” he says.
“where?”
“outside. it’s loud in here.”
you hesitate for half a second. then you slide off the stool and follow him. the night air is cool against your skin when you step out of the bar. the noise fades behind the door. streetlights cast everything in warm yellow. you turn toward him. he is already looking at you.
closer now. much closer.
“so,” he says quietly, “closure.”
“yeah.”
“do you feel it?”
you shake your head before you can stop yourself. “no,” you admit.
his jaw tightens slightly, like he is holding something back. “me neither,” he says. the space between you feels charged. your hands are inches apart.
“jungkook,” you start.
he moves first. one step forward, hand sliding to your waist, pulling you in like the decision was already made hours ago.
the kiss hits fast. not tentative. not polite. familiar in a way that makes your chest ache. you grab his shirt without thinking. he exhales against your mouth like he has been waiting years. when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing harder.
his forehead rests against yours.
“closure,” he murmurs.
you laugh softly, dizzy. “yeah. definitely closure.”
but neither of you lets go.
the kiss leaves both of you a little disoriented.
you are still standing outside the bar, his hand warm against your waist, your fingers curled in the front of his shirt like you forgot how to let go. the city noise hums around you, cars passing, muffled music leaking through the door behind you, but it all feels far away.
he pulls back first, just enough to look at you.his eyes are darker now. less teasing. more focused. “you live far?” he asks quietly.
you shake your head. “ten minutes. walking.”
he nods once. “okay.” neither of you says the obvious question. you just start walking. for the first minute, your hands brush accidentally. then again. then he finally just takes yours, like he is done pretending it is coincidence.
“you’re quiet,” he says.
“i’m thinking.”
“dangerous.”
you bump his shoulder lightly. “shut up.” he laughs under his breath. there is something different about him now. the cockiness is still there, but softer around the edges. like he is paying attention in a way he did not before.
“you always walked this fast?” he asks after a moment.
“i’m not walking fast.”
“you are. you’re nervous.”
you glance at him. “i’m not nervous.”
he squeezes your hand slightly. “you kissed me like you were.”
your face heats. “you kissed me too.”
“yeah,” he admits. “i did.”
silence settles again, but it is not awkward. just heavy. full. “do you regret it?” he asks. the question hits deeper than you expect.
“…no,” you say.
he nods slowly. you can see his shoulders loosen a little, like he was bracing for the opposite answer. “good,” he murmurs.
you reach your building sooner than you want to. you stop at the entrance, turning toward him, suddenly aware of everything again. the height difference. how close he is standing. the way your hands are still linked. this is the moment where people usually say goodnight. you both know that. neither of you moves. “so,” you say, a little breathless, “this is me.”
he looks up at the building, then back at you. “nice,” he says. you huff a small laugh. “you haven’t even seen inside.”
“wasn’t talking about the apartment.”
your heart skips.
“jungkook…”
he studies your face, searching.
“tell me to go,” he says quietly.
your throat goes dry. you could. you probably should. instead you hear yourself say, “do you want to come up?”
his answer is immediate. “yeah.”
the elevator ride feels shorter than it is. you can feel the heat coming off him in the small space, your shoulders almost touching, the tension climbing with every floor. when the doors open, you both step out a little too quickly.
your hands shake slightly when you unlock your door. he notices.
“hey,” he says softly.
you look up. his expression is gentler than you have ever seen it.
“we can just hang out,” he adds. “no pressure.”
that somehow makes it worse. because now you want him more.
you open the door and step inside. he follows, glancing around your apartment with quiet curiosity. “this feels like you,” he says.
“what does that mean?”
“organized. but not boring.”
you snort. “wow. glowing review.”
he smiles, then his eyes land back on you. the air shifts again. you are standing close. closer than you realized.
“come here,” he murmurs.
you do.
this kiss is slower than the one outside the bar. deeper. less shock, more intention. his hand slides to your waist again, thumb brushing your side through your clothes, and your breath catches into his mouth.
years of tension sits right under the surface. when you pull back, you are both breathing harder. “still want closure?” he asks, voice rougher now.
you shake your head slightly. “no,” you admit.
his forehead rests against yours for a second.
“good,” he says quietly. and this time, when he kisses you again, neither of you is pretending anymore.
he doesn’t give you a chance to think. his hands slide from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. your knees nearly buckle, and you cling to him for balance. his mouth is demanding, tracing yours with a kind of familiarity that makes your chest burn.
you gasp softly when he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. one hand threads into your hair, tilting your face just right. you press against him, and he hums, low and satisfied, his body warm and hard against yours.
“you’re… still impossible,” you murmur between kisses, breathless.
“yeah?” he replies, voice rough. “still like it?”
your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer. your hearts are racing in sync, breaths short, heat building between you. he leans back slightly, scanning your face as if memorizing every detail, before crashing back in.
the room shrinks until it’s just the two of you, pressing, moving, all teasing and tension. you stumble back toward the couch, him right behind you, hands never leaving, lips never leaving.
your clothes brush against each other in ways that make your stomach flutter with a mix of anticipation and shock at how fast this is escalating. every touch, every press of his body against yours sends sparks you weren’t expecting, and you realize that all the teasing and rivalry has funneled into this one moment.
he whispers against your lips "i don't remember you being this needy?" that makes your knees go weak, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, heart hammering.
he lets out a low chuckle, hot and teasing, and presses you further back, hands sliding lower, his touch more urgent.
he tasted like whiskey and mint, his mouth devouring yours as if he'd been starving for this. you bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a groan from him, and he retaliated by grinding his hips forward, the friction sending sparks up your spine.
his hands roamed, sliding under your blouse to cup your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked under his touch. you arched into him, hating how good it felt.
he pushed you down onto the couch, following you until he was straddling your thighs, his weight pinning you in place. the tension coiled tighter, every touch laced with the edge of your old competition--who would break first?
his fingers worked your blouse open, exposing your lace bra, and he didn't hesitate, shoving it up to latch his mouth onto one nipple.
he sucked hard, tongue flicking relentlessly, while his hand pinched the other, rolling it between his fingers.
your legs parted instinctively as he settled between them, his clothed cock now rubbing directly against your core through your skirt. the fabric barrier was maddening; you rocked up against him, chasing the pressure, the heat building low in your belly.
he lifted his head, eyes dark and hooded. "you want this as bad as i do. admit it."
his voice was rough, challenging, and it ignited that fire in you. instead of answering, you flipped him over--or tried to, but he was stronger, laughing as he caught your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. the other dipped under your skirt, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.
"jungkook," you breathed, the plea slipping out despite yourself. he smirked, that infuriating look, and hooked his fingers into the fabric, yanking them down your thighs. cool air hit your exposed pussy, already slick with arousal, and he groaned at the sight.
his free hand traced your inner thigh, teasing closer but not quite touching where you needed him. the tension was unbearable, your body thrumming with anticipation, every nerve on edge from the push-pull of your history.
"touch me," you demanded, voice edged with frustration.
"say please." he leaned down, breath ghosting over your clit, and you bucked up involuntarily.
"please," you muttered, hating the word but craving his mouth.
satisfied, jungkook released your wrists and dove in, his tongue flattening against your pussy in one long, slow lick from entrance to clit. you cried out, hands fisting the couch cushions as he lapped at you like a man possessed. his lips closed around your clit, sucking gently at first, then harder, the pressure building that coil inside you.
he ate you out with focused intensity, tongue circling your clit before dipping lower to thrust inside you, tasting your wetness. "fuck, you taste good," he growled against your folds, the vibration making you shudder.
his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you writhed, the rivalry forgotten in the haze of pleasure. but not entirely--every flick of his tongue felt like a challenge, pushing you toward the edge only to pull back, keeping you teetering.
"jungkook, don't stop," you panted, hips grinding against his face. he hummed in response, one finger sliding into your pussy, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
he pumped it slowly, then added a second, stretching you as his mouth worked your clit relentlessly.
you were close, so close, when he pulled away abruptly, leaving you whining and empty.
he was already shedding his shirt, revealing the toned muscles you'd only glimpsed in high school. his jeans followed, cock springing free, thick and hard, pre-cum beading at the tip.
"condoms?" he asked, voice strained as he stroked himself once, eyes on your glistening pussy. you shook your head, the reality crashing in--no protection, just raw want. "shit, i don't have any." the words hung between you, tension spiking anew. part of you wanted to stop, but the pull was too strong.
jungkook's gaze darkened. "then ride me. i want to feel you bare." his words were a command wrapped in desire, and before you could overthink, you were straddling him, knees bracketing his hips on the couch.
you sank down slowly, inch by inch, gasping at the stretch. no barrier, just skin on skin, his thickness filling you completely.
"fuck," he groaned, hands clamping onto your ass, guiding you deeper. you bottomed out, pussy clenching around him, the sensation overwhelming--full, exposed, vulnerable in the best way. the tension hummed, your bodies locked in this intimate battle, who could hold out longer?
you started moving, rolling your hips in a slow grind, feeling every ridge of his cock drag against your walls. jungkook thrust up to meet you, the slap of skin echoing, his grip bruising as he urged you faster. he panted, eyes locked on where you joined, watching your pussy swallow him whole.
you leaned forward, nails digging into his shoulders, using the leverage to bounce on him, each drop sending jolts of pleasure through you.
his hands roamed up your back, then down to squeeze your breasts, pinching your nipples as you rode him relentlessly. the pace built, tension coiling like a spring--sweat slicked your skin, breaths mingling in harsh gasps.
"you feel so fucking tight," he growled, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit in tight circles. the dual stimulation pushing you closer to the edge. your hips stuttered, thighs quivering as you ground down harder, feeling his cock throb inside you, pre-cum mixing with your arousal. it pushed you higher, your movements turning frantic, chasing that peak.
"come for me, show me you can't resist."
his words tipped you over, orgasm crashing through you like a wave, pussy spasming around his cock as you cried out his name.
he followed seconds later, thrusting deep and spilling inside you, hot cum flooding your core.
you collapsed against his chest, both of you heaving, his arms wrapping around you in a possessive hold. the aftershocks rippled through your joined bodies, his cock still twitching inside your sensitive pussy.
the tension finally breaking into sated exhaustion.
you felt the spark reignite--the tension far from resolved.
you rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him--sweat, soap, something uniquely him--and for a moment, the teasing, the rivalry, the tension all dissolve. he shifts slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “you okay?” he murmurs. his voice is softer now, almost vulnerable.
“yeah,” you say, voice low. “you?”
“never better,” he admits, but you catch the faint edge of uncertainty beneath it. the cocky facade hasn’t fully returned. just a man who’s spent years missing this closeness and maybe too stubborn to admit it.
you laugh softly, a little breathless. “so… we’re really doing this?”
“doing what?” he teases, nudging you gently.
“this,” you whisper, gesturing vaguely between you, the quiet aftermath, the lingering warmth.he smirks, but it’s tender.
“guess we are.” for a while, neither of you talks. you lie there, limbs tangled, just feeling the other’s presence, hearts slowing, breaths aligning. he drifts slightly against you, light snores mixing with your own soft exhales.
after a lazy stretch and a quiet breakfast of leftovers from last night, your phone buzzes on the table. you glance at it and freeze.
jungkook:
so… about last night.
you stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. your chest tightens, a little flutter of nerves that hadn’t been there since he walked into the bar.
you:
what about it?
jungkook:
thinking. maybe we should make a habit of this.
your eyebrows shoot up. “habit?”
you:
oh? so now we’re scheduling hookups?
jungkook:
no. not just that.
you:
what do you mean?
jungkook:
we should see each other… again. like properly. not just random nights.
your heart skips. the teasing is gone from the message, replaced by something quieter. serious. maybe even a little vulnerable.
you:
you’re… serious?
jungkook:
yeah. i’m serious.
you in?
you stare at the phone for a long second. the sun hits your hand as you scroll through the messages again, and you realize this isn’t just the same cocky guy from high school. he’s still competitive, still teasing--but he’s also… thoughtful.
you:
i’m in.
he replies almost immediately.
jungkook:
good. didn’t want to push you…
but i had to ask.
you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. the app that started it all, the ridiculous swipe that brought him back into your life, suddenly feels like the doorway to something you didn’t know you’d been waiting for.and somewhere, deep down, you know this is only the beginning.
pairing: student! fem reader x student! jeon jungkook
summary: when you finally get your crush’s number, you expect the start of an epic love story— not a random guy making fun of you because he thinks the guy you’ve been obsessed with for the last six months gave you a fake number. Jeon Jungkook, the one who replies, finds it entertaining and helps you chase the guy… at least until he finds out that the person he’s been helping date another guy is you, the girl he’s been obsessed with for the last two years.
genre/warning: this is a smau fic!! with narration included in some chapter but it’s mostly messages/tweets. very unfunny jokes. this is mostly crack/fluff.
authors note: chapter so long i couldn’t put my dividers 💔💔 the tweets have to be read from bottom to top btw okay bye<33 enjoy this is a mess and i had to delete a lot of things but i couldn’t make it shorter i’m sorry 😭😭 it would be better if u open the pics to read it>_<
chapter index | previous — next
——————————
— chapter seven: holy crash-out!
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messy ass chapter but life is like that we know. i might forgotten to add some people im sorry guys. 💔💔
Omg I forgot I had a blog…. Update I’ve been binging a shit ton of k dramas and c dramas (the first frost being the best) and I fear I can’t go back to
This whole week has gone by fast yet the days feel so dragged and I feel like I’m being punished to really feel the stress and uncomfortableness of studying for exams….like can’t I just be over with this already!!!
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