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gguksgalaxy · 4 years

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Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug. Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.

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jincherie · 4 years

Text

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare.

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword.

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching.

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from.

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse.

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now.

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably.

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it.

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment.

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting.

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely.

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising. “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way.

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip. The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him.

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does.

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not.

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can.

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features.

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events.

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls.

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel.

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane.

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here.

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics.

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts.

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing.

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes.

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does.

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour.

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there.

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death.

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this.

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

…You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride. “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch.

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know.

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself.

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone.

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing.

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly.

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten.

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics.

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations.

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think.

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped.

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

6K notes · View notes

jimilter · 2 years

Text

I posted 2,888 times in 2021

296 posts created (10%)

2592 posts reblogged (90%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.8 posts.

I added 7,211 tags in 2021

#c: gif - 1796 posts

#i queued be your genie - 1769 posts

#not q - 1053 posts

#jimin - 730 posts

#guk - 491 posts

#tae - 336 posts

#joon - 308 posts

#c: photo - 249 posts

#ot7 - 240 posts

#yoongi - 239 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#*gorgeous af face - pecs - abs - and—ugh too much!!! maybe shouldn't remind myself of that in public but my boy is just so irresistible tho*

My Top Posts in 2021

cyanide on my bedsheets (m) | k.nj.

pairing: kim namjoon x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: smut | angst | fwb!au

summary: You didn’t voluntarily choose to have feelings for your best friend of over a decade. But you did voluntarily choose to fall in bed with him, knowing he didn’t feel the same. And now, every encounter with him is just another push at the knife he has permanently lodged in your heart.

warnings: swearing + unrequited love + dom!joon + sub!reader + explicit sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, f&m oral, spanking, orgasm denial, overstimulation, slight manhandling, creampie) + careless aftercare + unhappy ending

word count: 8 k

568 notes • Posted 2021-07-27 18:30:41 GMT

to know you is to love you (m) | j.jk. | one-shot

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: m (18+)

summary: If going on a bloodthirst-fueled rampage and ravaging almost half the city when you are a whole adult vampire of three-plus centuries was somewhat embarrassing, being on the run from the Supernatural Interpol is making you want to walk into a field of garlic and asphyxiate to death out of mortification. So it should be quite understood why this sudden meeting with a creature you’ve only heard myths about, in a dingy freaking hiding place, is shaping up to be the most humiliating moment of your life.

It doesn’t help that he’s handsome as hell. Or that every other sentence out of his mouth is a freaking line. Or that he has decided to accompany you on your absconding adventures. Or… that you’re actually kinda okay with it?

Yeah, you’re massively screwed.

warnings: swearing + mentions of blood, gore, violence + consumption of blood + near death experiences + explicit sexual situations (oral (f), unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, humping, hair-pulling, slight blood play, softdom!jk, switch!reader, slight choking, multiple orgasms) + sex under the influence of aphrodisiac + parental issues + open-ish happy ending? i think? + centuries old-ass ppl looking in their 20s bec this is fantasy!

word count: 21.3 k

715 notes • Posted 2021-09-14 18:37:43 GMT

little princess (m) | m.yg. | drabble

pairing: yoongi x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: smut | humor | angst | fwb minus the friends!au

summary: In his defense, his trysts with you and his job at your father’s office were initially non-mutually exclusive.

warnings: emotional constipation, mean!reader, age-gap, explicit sexual content (dom!yoongi, sub!reader, dom-sub themes, oral (m), manhandling, unprotective penetrative sex, bondage, gagging), not a happy ending, unrequited feelings that are being denied left and right (’:

word count: 3.9 k

739 notes • Posted 2021-09-19 09:07:34 GMT

mine to claim (m) | k.th. | one-shot

pairing: taehyung x reader

rating: m (18+)

summary: You are in love with Taehyung, your Alpha. But he just sees you as the Omega bitch that helps him relieve stress by letting him use her body however he likes. And you’ve come to be okay with that, because you know you are no good for him. But now with your heat coming up and the pressure on Taehyung to find a Queen increasing exponentially, will your ties with him severe forever? Or will they bloom into something else?

warnings: swearing + jealousy + pining + a/b/o universe stuff (talks of heats, breeding, mating, pups) + implicit sexual situations + explicit sexual situations (fingering, oral(m+f), clit slapping, clit biting, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight degradation, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, rough sex, breeding kink, knotting, some spitting, some manhandling, some marking) + dumb oblivious characters that may frustrate you + we love and appreciate park jimin in this house <3

word count: 13 k

1341 notes • Posted 2021-10-25 12:15:52 GMT

ain’t real cherry | p.jm. | one-shot (m)

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)

rating: m (18+)

summary: Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in.

And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time.

warnings: swearing + unresolved (?) sexual tension + nude photos + vivid descriptions of curvaceous female bodies + careless objectification of said bodies by horny college students + mentions of masturbation + heavy making out + sexual situations (oral (m+f), penetrative sex, dirty talk, softdom!jimin, switch!reader, choking, manhandling, rough sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, overstimulation, marking) + unrequited (?) lustful (?) pining [citation needed] + fuckboy tae with a dick for brain + unintended allusions to Ryan Reynolds’ dick + mentions of blue beanbags + mentions of erect dingalings + explicit conversations featuring dingalings + i realize these are getting progressively more ridiculous so ima stop

word count: 24.2 k

1405 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 16:30:58 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this was fun!!!#my longest tag tho omfg 😩#bts #c: misc text #not q

5 notes · View notes

theycallme-tunathot · 7 years

Text

sleep. [chapter 1]

Pairing: Wonho x Reader/ ft, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Jisoo, Park Jinyoung, Min Yoongi and a few other idols. Rating: NC-17 or M Synopsis: Wonho is a five-course meal with cocktails afterward. At least that’s what you think. He looks like sin but he’s…strange? It’s all very confusing for a succubus who is only trying to eat just enough to keep herself from starving to death. Your paths would’ve never crossed had her best friend not introduced you and bet Wonho would be the very motivation you needed to start eating again. Wonho is indeed a meal. Warnings: Violence later on, sexual content, mentions of demons and angels Author’s Note: Happy October my lovelies! Here’s my lovely gift to you. I hope you

"Maybe we should reschedule this excursion."

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

“Did you get the notes from today’s lecture?”

I rolled my eyes as I threw my bag into the seat farthest from me before settling into the seat across from the laziest son of a bitch I knew.

“You know, you could always just, I don’t know, go to class and get your notes,” I replied, stretching my legs out underneath the table.

My best friend snorted, shoving a whole waffle fry into his mouth as his eyebrows ascended to the heavens. “When Hell freezes over.”

“See, this is why you fail every semester.”

“Says the girl who sits in the front row—in college!”

Raising an eyebrow, I challenged him. “Is there something wrong with sitting at the front of the lecture hall?”

“You’re a nerd. That’s where nerds sit.”

“That’s where you sit so you don’t get distracted by people on Facebook or watching stupid Stranger Things.”

“But lecture is so boring without my Netflix.”

“Not if your grades depend on it.”

The soft brown eyes teased me gently, nudging me to repeat myself but I dropped it. He was already in such a good mood and I didn’t want to add to it by proving him right. Sure, I was a nerd and yes, I saw nothing wrong with it. But the last thing I wanted was for my best friend to gain the upper hand in this exchange. No matter how lax we looked like at the moment, sitting in the student union’s food court, I was scolding him for missing yet another lecture.

And if only passerby’s knew how not normal the two of us were…

They’d never fathom it.

Out of the two of us, he was considered the more relaxed. He was easygoing about many things much to the detriment of his grades, relationships and responsibilities over all. There were so few things he actually cared about enough to put effort into it. Most of the things he did put lots of effort into was beneficial solely to himself. Playing video games, eating, sleeping just among a few of the G-rated things I could list right now.

Running a napkin across his lips before shoving another waffle fry into his mouth, he tilted his head to the right teasingly. “You’re so cute.”

I visibly tensed at that. “You know how much I hate being called cute.”

“But you are!”

“No, I’m not,” I simply stated, putting finality into my voice in the hopes of ending the discussion.

“Please, look at you,” he said, aggressively brandishing a half-eaten waffle fry at me. “You know deep down that none of this matters but you try so hard.”

“Of course it matters,” I mumbled, watching a group of students bustle past the table, all of them laughing loudly. “This is university–”

“And we don’t have to be here.”

“Jungkook, don’t–”

“I’m just telling the truth!” He defended, sitting back in his seat as he put down his waffle fry. His face sobered substantially as he tilted his head to the left. “How many universities have we been to already? Six, seven?”

“Ten,” I mumbled lightly.

“Exactly. We’re only here for one thing, yet you always get sidetracked by it all.”

“I’m not sidetracked,” I argued back, glaring at him.

The tone shifted between the two of us considerably and almost at a neck-breaking speed. We always had this conversation and while Jungkook told the truth, I always felt insulted when he voiced the truth to me. My pride would cower away, wounded and I would have to defend myself.

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Oh, you’re not? Is that why you’re a shade paler than normal and you look like you haven’t eaten a decent meal in the last month? Or is that because you haven’t actually eaten in the last month?”

My cheeks warmed under his scrutiny and I looked down at the table. Itching along the edges of my phone’s case, I couldn’t bring myself to voice my exact thoughts at the moment. It was hard to forget why the two of us were here. It was the same reason we were at the other ten universities. Although I understood well what our shared goal was, it didn’t make me any less inclined to actually get something out of the free education I was granted. Besides, we had to make our stay last an entire academic school year. How could we do that if I ate just as much as Kookie did?

“I eat,” I mumbled, doing everything in my power to fight back on my best friend calling me out.

Another snort sounded from my friend as he inserted another waffle fry into his mouth. “You look gaunt.”

“I’m not gaunt.”

“Then why don’t I ever see you eating?”

Because I’m uncomfortable.

“I’m working on a meal right now.”

Jungkook’s boyish face held all the skepticism of his true age. For all the years we’d known each other, we hardly aged in the face. But every once in a while, I could catch Jungkook’s real age showing. It was typically when he looked at me like I’ve told that same lie for the last five decades. And to be fair to him, I probably have.

Leaning forward on his elbows, his eyes searched me. “You’re working on one right now?”

I only nodded in response.

“Who?”

I don’t know why I thought saying that I was working on eating would stave off Jungkook’s curiosity. It would only really act as fuel. This was yet another area where Jungkook could sink his efforts into on any given day: other people’s business.

Sighing deeply, I looked away from him for a moment. “Don’t worry about it. Just know I’m in the process of organizing my next meal.”

He leaned in closer, eyes roving over my face to find the lie. His eyes squinted and grew only to squint at me again, scrutinizing every muscle twitch and shift in my gaze.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Oh?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. I looked down to see he finished off his waffle fries, leaving a lonely Chik-Fil-A sandwich. “Fine, since I’m an asshole, what’s the name?”

“What?”

“What’s the name?”

Panicked and feeling like I had so few options left but to continue on with this lie, I flipped through the names of people in my lectures—at least the people I could remember. The guy that sat next to me and slept for the hour and twenty minutes my World Civilizations lecutre lasted. The girl who showed up every once in a while but always smelled like freshly laundered clothes in my art appreciation class. There was also that one guy in my biology study group—he was nice.

“Chanyeol,” I randomly threw out, remembering another person in my biology study group. He was the de facto leader when Jinyoung wasn’t looking.

“You’re so full of shit, you don’t have a single meal lined up.”

Not looking at him seemed to be the only confirmation he needed before he shook his head and sighed.

“You have a reputation to defend and uphold, you remember that right?”

“How can I forget?” I shot back, glaring at Jungkook.

Of everyone who knew me, Jungkook was the only one who knew about the pressure I was under. He knew how horrible it felt growing up in the shadow of my mother. Because of this, Jungkook knew how hard it was to eat on a regular basis.

“No need for the attitude,” he replied, his glare reflecting my own. “You’re my best friend, I’m trying to look after you. You look gaunt. You know all this,” he motioned to his lonesome chicken sandwich and around the food court, “doesn’t truly nourish us, just the bodies we occupy, yet you’re literally starving your true form.”

I could only nod, feeling like a scolded child. There was a sickening churn in my stomach and almost like Jungkook cracked through a month’s worth of denying my hunger, I could feel the hunger pains. A painful lurch and throb ebbed through my whole body and I sighed. I was starving, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat at the expense of others.

With a sigh, Jungkook ruffled his hair and for a moment I wondered if his fingers were still greasy from the fries. “Meet up with me tonight.”

“I can’t I’ve got–”

The look he gave me made my voice stop cold. Eyes apologetic he nodded.

“Be at the activity center at 6 p.m.”

“What’s happening there?”

“You’re eating and I’m having a little snack. I think I have a solution to your problem.”

What are you wearing? ;)

What started as an inward groan slowly transformed into an audible one. It was one of those special groans, the kind only summoned by the perfect intersection of annoyance and exasperation. My eyes didn't dare break contact with my phone's illuminated screen until it locked again.

"Someone sounds like they're ready for the mitosis lab tomorrow morning," Namjoon said with a shit-eating grin displayed proudly on his face.

"Less than thrilled if I'm being honest."

"Dr. Kang is supposed to actually be here for it too."

"She finally found time to grace us plebian children with her presence," Jinyoung added, a bitter-edged laugh following closely behind. Jinyoung hated biology but I'd wager he hated our professor more. She was always far too busy with research to actually attend our lectures or labs and left us with a surly teacher's assistant who was definitely not getting paid enough to deal with all of us.

"Tell us how you really feel," Namjoon joked.

"Actually, please, don't. I ran out of ibuprofen and the health center is starting to recognize my face and how many packets of ibuprofen I'm taking each week," Chanyeol muttered from beside me.

We were such a weird collection of people.

The only common thread between all of us was our need to pass this biology course. Chanyeol was a music major who was so painfully organized he rivaled early childhood education major Park Jinyoung. They were both meticulous but in their own ways. Jinyoung was manic and bossy while Chanyeol let it be. He was the honey to Jinyoung's vinegar and if it weren't for Chanyeol, most of us would've never joined the study group. Jinyoung tried inviting everyone the first couple of weeks of the semester but after making one of the attendees cry, most of the class was apprehensive about joining. So, behind Jinyoung's back, Chanyeol claimed he had his own study group, handpicking a few people to personally invite. I happened to be one of them.

The referee to Jinyoung and Chanyeol's unique power struggle was psychology major Jisoo. She was tough as nails yet completely funny and enjoyable to be around.

Namjoon was a literature major who wrote poetry. Every once in a while, he was featured at an open mic held at the local coffee shop just off campus. He invited us to come see him last time. While I never would've pinned Namjoon for the slam poetry type, he certainly was heads above the others who braved the crowd and took the stage.

And then there was me, the undeclared major with no semblance of a backstory and the weirdo who sat in the front row.

It was enough to make me stop everything I was doing at any given moment and wonder how our paths crossed.

Before I could get too lost in thought, my phone buzzed in my hand.

Are you seriously leaving me on read?

I didn't reply, but I unlocked my phone only to let the read receipt pop up beneath Jungkook's message.

"Either way we're in for the longest lab ever tomorrow," Jisoo pointed out, pulling out her lab manual and flipping through tomorrow's lesson. "Ten pages—our lab is ten pages."

HELLO

Don't ignore me

Young lady it is 5:45 and I know you've parked your ass in the library for a study sesh.

Don't make me come get you.

Keep ignoring me. Go ahead.

Shoving my phone into my bag, I began packing up my textbook and laptop.

"Heading out early?" Namjoon asked from beside me.

I smiled sheepishly. "I have a thing to do so I have to go. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," he smiled. His dimples became front and center, only accentuating the curve of his cheekbones and his jawline. "Jisoo and I were going to meet up for breakfast before lab. You in?"

"Sure. What time are you guys meeting?"

"7 a.m."

"8:30 a.m."

Jisoo and Namjoon answered at the same time. More curious than anything, a single eyebrow perked up as I looked between them. It wasn't hostile between the two, but it definitely seemed like Jisoo told Namjoon a time when they initially brought up the idea but Namjoon didn't agree.

Giving a tight-lipped smile, Jisoo turned her gaze from Namjoon to me. "To be determined. We'll work it out before heading out of here tonight and text you."

"That sounds good to--"

"Y/N!"

Before I knew what was happening, I heard my name ricocheting off of the walls, piercing through the stillness of the silent floor of the library. My blood ran cold despite the blush beginning to form along my cheeks as I looked ahead in horror.

"Fucking hell," I muttered to myself.

I threw out an apologetic smile to my study group as I grabbed my backpack, not even bothering to zip it up as I speed walked my way to Jungkook who smugly leant against a bookcase, repeating my name somehow louder each time.

By the time I reached him, I went to slap him across the head, feeling satisfaction flood my entire body when I heard the loud smack against his thick skull.

"You're so fucking rude," I complained as I tugged him through the library and toward the stairwell. On any normal occasion I would've taken the elevators but I didn't want to chance waiting a second for an available elevator, not with loudmouth standing next to me on the silent floor of the library.

Once in the confines of the echo-chamber stairwell, I descended the stairs, not even bothering to look back to see if Jungkook was following. As my footsteps tapped loudly against the tiled steps, I heard Jungkook not far behind, laughing and no doubt shaking his head.

Just as I noticed I reached the second floor, Jungkook finally spoke up behind me. "After all these years, one would think you’d be better at hiding from me—or at the very least be good at lying to me."

I blinked in confusion but didn't turn to look at him.

"I don't follow."

"Liar."

"What are you even talking about?"

I glanced momentarily at his stupid, shit-eating grin. For a guy with a baby face, he sure knew how to look like a smug asshole in that indecently charming way. It really was his appeal when he was looking to eat. No matter how big those brown eyes were or how innocent those puckered lips looked, there was a certain air of danger to him. He wasn't guaranteeing you a callback after a fun night and he definitely wasn't promising a second time, but he could confirm he was the closest to heaven a human could get.

"You agreed to meet me at the activity center? Edge of campus, 6 p.m.? For dinner," he prompted, squinting playfully.

He knew I was avoiding him. Just as he knew why I was hesitant to eat on a regular basis, he knew why I was dodging him like the plague.

"My study group meets every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, you know that."

"And I suppose it would kill you more than starving to death to skip a stupid study group."

"It's biology though."

"So?"

I rolled my eyes at him, wondering who I must've pissed off to end up with a best friend like Jungkook. "As if you're actually good at biology."

"It's alarming how often I have to remind you, but I don't have to be good at it. Neither do you," Jungkook said, his voice holding all the ease and bravado of a young man. "We're not here for the degree, we're here to eat and chug along once the buffet shuts down."

The statement was very matter-of-fact. It left no room for interpretation or argument. He was right. It was a result of the curse of being a succubus and an incubus.

There was only one purpose for a succubus or incubus like me or Jungkook: procure souls. In fact, it was such a core purpose, it was instilled into our very livelihood. From our very creation, feeding off of human energy was essential to our survival. Over the formative years, an incubus or succubus learns various ways of feeding themselves. Some chose to lure a meal through aggressive or violent means. It was effective, but one could argue the taste wasn't the same as someone giving their soul over.

Others chose to reinvent the idea of dream-walking. It was a rare artform these days and so few knew how to do it properly. Inserting oneself into a dream was a tricky business and wasn't always the most effective way of procuring the soul or nourishing the succubus or incubus form.

And then there was the old-fashioned way. It was the most basic, instinctual way our kind survived. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't the most favored way of procuring souls and eating, but it was the way Jungkook and I survived. Physical contact and engaging humans always came with a slew of difficulties. Humans weren't always as stupid or distracted as other demons regarded them as. If there was a simple slip in the web Jungkook or I spun, we could be exposed. Exposure was almost certain death in our reality. The other downside—one that proved a deal-breaker to most—was the wear and tear on the host body. The previous two options didn't require a human form and definitely required minimal work. But this approach required not only obtaining a human form but it required upkeep. This meant eating actual human food, being careful with how frequently we had sex and awareness of the human body's weaknesses and any maintenance issues that could arise.

The most effort was required for this method. While most disliked it, there was no denying its effectiveness and the quality of the soul procured. For proof, no incubus or succubus had to look further than my mother. She was living proof that old-fashioned was superior to all the other methods.

"Sorry if I'm not interested in just chugging along once I've had my fill," I provided after a long pause.

My eyes shifted to see Jungkook giving me a smug smile. "What did I tell you? You're cute."

Rolling my eyes, we ascended the stairs, leading to the bridge that connected the east and west sides of campus. As a gust of wind hit my face, I looked away from Jungkook and sighed. "Maybe we should reschedule this excursion."

"It's not an excursion."

"Fine. Let's reschedule this adventure."

"It's not an adventure either."

"Trek?"

"This is a fucking dinner Y/N," Jungkook said, the level of disbelief in his voice only matching the wide-eyed, raised-brow expression on his face. All he was missing was the "what the fuck" tacked onto his statement.

I sighed deeply. "We're going to the gym and I don't even have proper clothes on, let alone proper shoes."

And that's when Jungkook seemed to snap out of his confused and slightly offended expression. Almost as if he forgot something, the brunet grinned as he opened his backpack and began searching. "I knew you'd be ill-prepared and that's why I came fully prepared."

Emerging from his bag, he threw a pair of running shoes at me. One by one, Jungkook threw a pair of socks, a sports bra and a pair of running tights in my general direction. Thankfully I caught all of them.

"How the fuck...?" I trailed off, staring back at him a moment.

"A girl left it behind in my room."

This didn't help me at all. "Wait, did she wear this beforehand?"

"Mhm."

"Then how did she leave?"

Jungkook gave a cackle and that was all the answer I needed. Immediately, I threw the running tights back at him and grimaced. Shaking my head, I ran a hand over my face. "That's so disgusting Kookie."

"What? How?" He asked indignantly, pointing at the shoes and sports bra I was still holding. "It's not like I didn't wash them before folding them and bringing them to you tonight."

"I'm not wearing these."

"You'll thank me if you do though."

"Why?"

"Because I found you a meal to end your protest."

The doubt was so evident across my face as the activity center came into sight. As he threw the tights back at me, I shook my head. "I highly doubt that."

"Oh, but you see, I have," he countered, a high level of confidence and ease rolling off of him. It was enough to make me want to punch him in the face, but I held back. "This guy...even I would fuck him if he went that way. But sadly, he's very straight when it comes to sex."

“You know how p— "

“I do know how annoyingly picky you are, but this doesn’t have to be a four-course-meal-at-some-upscale-restaurant-kind of commitment, okay?” Jungkook cut in, his brown eyes roving over my face as we stood a mere meter from the entrance. “This is to give you a taste of just how hungry you are and what you’re missing going on this hunger strike.”

I inhaled deeply, trying so hard to clear every last thought out of my mind. I was concerned about eating again, considering I’ve had a two-month battle with my conscience since my last meal. For most succubae and incubi, eating wasn’t such a moral conundrum like it was for me. Eating for most of us was no different than the amount of guilt a human would feel at eating a hamburger or fried chicken.

The only real difference between me and that analogy is humans weren’t required to stare the cow in the face before killing it. And that’s really where I found my biggest pitfall being a succubus and choosing this way to nourish myself as opposed to the other methods. I get too connected. I end up developing bonds with the target and before I know it I’m depression binging on souls left and right. The last soul I procured was the hardest. I ended up breaking a few rules Jungkook and I set up to ensure smooth execution and in the end, when I had to kill him, I couldn’t. Kookie swore to keep that a secret but when word somehow traveled to my mom…things became difficult.

With all the skepticism resting there on my vocal chords, I shifted my eyes to the activity center. "I highly doubt that Kookie."

"Hey Kookie!"

"Christina!"

It was safe to say Jungkook was mildly well-known around campus. He went to all the social gatherings, was a dependable alcohol supplier to several frat parties and was known to offer a good time to anyone he caught in his cross hairs. In the three months we'd been in school, I couldn't count how many booty calls he had on lock for when he was ready to eat, but he had quite a few people on speed dial for that sort of thing.

Part of me was wondering if I recognized Christina's face from the apartment I shared with Jungkook.

"You here for another sweat session?" she asked, her voice flirty, verging on salacious.

Jungkook, always the charmer, winked at her. "Why else would I be here on a school night?"

The high-pitch giggle traveled through the main lobby of the activity center. Not far beyond the electronic turnstiles was a large basketball court with bunches of students stretching, running and cheering each other on. A set of stairs sat back further into the activity center, straight ahead from the turnstiles. And then just underneath the staircase, on either side were the men and women's locker rooms.

But the mood stumbled on a sour note the second Christina's gaze landed on me. The girl beside Jungkook.

"Is this your friend?"

Her tone held all the contention that came with her desire for Jungkook. In fact, it was something the ebbed and permeated the whole area. Perhaps unnoticed by humans, but not by either me or my best friend. It was something so tangible we could nibble it into little pieces and consider it an appetizer.

Jungkook turned his head and laughed. "Yeah, practically my sister."

Rolling my eyes, I nudged him in the rib cage, letting my eyes wander over to the gym. I didn't really care how long we stood there in the lobby so long as we could delay this meal for as long as possible. I was more content watching Jungkook disgustingly and shamelessly flirt with this girl than swipe my student ID and walk to the locker room to change.

But it seemed Jungkook was more on-task tonight than I'd seen him in weeks. Leaning over the counter, his fingertips glided over Christina's lanyard as she took a sharp breath in.

"Say, is Wonho in tonight?"

"Now I'm really offended," she shot back, her eyes narrowing playfully at my friend. "Here I am, flirting my ass off, and you got the nerve to bring up a man—Wonho of all men—right in the middle of it."

"You know I wouldn't have interrupted if it wasn't important."

"What do you need with him?"

"It's not for me, it's for my practical sister over there."

I turned my attention back on the two to see Jungkook jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at me and Christina looking up at me before looking at Jungkook. She seemed to be debating something. But whatever she was debating didn't take all that long. "He just got in. What do you need him for?"

She addressed the question to me, but I had no fucking clue how to answer. What could I possibly know what I needed help with when I wasn't even here to work out?

Clearly panicked, I looked at Jungkook who was staring at me with a smug expression.

Fuck you, I mentally hurled at him.

"My friend isn't really much of an exercise person, she's here for the massages the kinesiology program is doing. It's Max out Monday right?"

Immediately, my whole body lunged forward and I felt my hands clench into fists. Before I knew it, I punched Jungkook in the neck. The shock of the nose and the adrenaline high that I was currently riding kept my vision pin-pointed on giggling mess of best friend.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice so low and raspy, I was a little afraid that my temper would make me explode...more than I already did.

Jungkook continued laughing, his hand moving to cover the area where I punched him. "You have a water fist. How did you have all that rage and barely hit me like that?"

Meanwhile my hand was tightly clutched around his left wrist, tugging him forcefully from his spot at the reception desk. As I pulled him toward the exit, he only had to jerk his arm back at a minuscule angle and use all his strength to tug me back to him.

That only made me angry and whirl around just to smack him with my open palm. "You're such an idiot."

"Pardon?"

"No, shut the fuck up, I thought I was coming here to work out."

"We just went through this on the bridge—you will be eating tonight."

"Yes, and I assumed it would be over a cardio session."

Jungkook tilted his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he stared in confusion. "Why would you think that?"

I mirrored his confused look. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you threw a pair of running tights in my face."

"Did you seriously think you were getting laid in your weird black jeans and that worn out Joy Division shirt?"

Instead of responding, I chose to let go of Jungkook's wrist and I sighed deeply. My eyes were shut so tight as I tried to work through what I could only describe as a stress migraine that was sitting right behind my right eyeball.

"Please don't make me do this."

My voice was so shaky and held all the vulnerability locked up in me and I hated it. At this, Jungkook's face softened and his expression turned serious. Placing his strong hands around my shoulders, he shook me lightly before giving me a warm, encouraging smile.

"I can't not do this," he countered. "You're my best friend and you're starving. I've never known one of our kind to starve themselves, but I'm pretty sure you can't last much longer if you keep this up."

"I don't think I can do this though."

"You can and you will," he affirmed. "Just...try him out. I'm not saying you've got to devour his soul in one go. At this point, I'm pretty sure your body will respond to mere sexual energy in its most base form. Wonho's good for it, I promise."

The stress migraine was still there, stabbing every nerve ending in my eye, but I ignored it as I looked down at the gym clothes. Jungkook, while we argued almost daily and there were times I wondered how we stayed friends this long, was still someone who knew me best and always tried to look out for me. A part of me was angry about that fact because it made it so hard to stick to my aversion to feeding off of humans.

Looking up at my friend, I gave the longest and loudest exasperated sigh I could muster. "Fine, I'll try this out. But if something's off, I leave, regardless of whether I ate or not."

The caring brunet buddy in front of me only beamed back as he took me into a tight hug. "That's all I'm asking! Now, let's walk back over and wait for Lover Boy."

I'm almost sure we were waiting for nearly half an hour and Wonho was nowhere to be seen. By this point, I'd already changed into the clothes Jungkook brought for me and I was currently leaning my entire back against the edge of the reception desk.

Somehow managing to slink out of Jungkook's charmed clutches, Christina made a quick call to check on where he was, per my request.

In the middle of trying to block out the pointed glares she threw in my direction every once in a while as she went back to her flirting session with my best friend, I heard someone walking down the stairs. As I peeked around the reception desk to see the activity center past the electronic turnstiles, I could hear someone shouting at a man who was racing down the stairs. The pale legs I could see were toned to an extent, even if they were a little small. Lean in many ways. They narrowed into small, bony ankles before I could see his black and white Nike running shoes.

Leaning against the railing, it seemed like the person was talking to someone as he tried to make way for anyone trying to get down the stairs. But luckily for him, he was the only person visible on the stairs at the moment.

There's really no telling how long I stared at those calves before the legs began to descend the stairs once again. My eyes immediately drank in a pair of muscular thighs. While not the biggest thighs I've ever seen, they were still above average in every way, displayed in a pair of bright orange running shorts.

My eyes lingered on his hips. They both looked strong and sturdy and part of me wondered what they felt like. Hips led to a waist that I could barely see due to the loose-fitting shirt he was wearing. But there were some obvious things I could see about his upper body. He was built. With strong shoulders, and biceps that bulged and swelled, there was a moment the air in my lungs stilled. Well-defined pectorals were pressed against the chest area of the shirt only making this situation all the more startling.

Slowly, I scanned up to his neck. More pale skin met me there, but the way the neck muscles even seemed to be defined made it look thick in the most delicious way. For a moment, my brain let me wonder what it would feel like to press my lips against the base of it. For that moment, my brain let me wonder what it would be like if my tongue lapped around and into the small dip just barely visible at the base of his neck, just above his chest. My body asked me to imagine what it would feel like to be pressed so fervently against his hard as marble build as my teeth nibbled and scraped along his Adam’s apple.

When the moment passed, my brain knew I had to at least glimpse at his face. It only seemed fair to at least know what face was attached to a body I'd easily fantasized about in a record three seconds. But that was my mistake. What met me above the neck was something I wasn't prepared for, even after years of doing this and seeing so many body types and people.

His face was...captivating. And not in the cliché way associated with captivating. No, he was alluring. The first thing I noticed were his pink lips. Both full and obnoxiously pink, they seemingly peered back at me, daring me to taste what would never really be mind to taste. There was something so forbidden about them yet they made me want to be closer, they made me want to be bolder than I've ever been. Bow-shaped at the top and curved so delicately at the bottom, my own body gave a violent reaction, one that Jungkook could feel.

I gave the most cursory glance to his nose and eyes before looking away, knowing good and well I couldn't look any longer.

Turning around so my back was to him, my chest rose and fell so rapidly, I couldn't fully understand what was happening. Heart hammering so loud my eardrums beat along to the same nosiy beat, I looked at Jungkook who was grinning wide. He knew I was turned on and he was already considering this a W in his book. Getting me to release and allow my body and mind to have such sexual thoughts was already a step in the direction of what he was aiming for.

But when he looked behind me, the grin only turned shit-eating.

"Wonho!"

I snapped around to see the adam's apple I'd been fantasizing about bob up and down as a laugh sounded in his general area. And suddenly, the body I'd been admiring began to move as a voice bounded out.

"Nochu!"

I jumped at the nickname. Only "close" friends of Jungkook used the nickname and he didn't give everyone the privilege of calling him a close friend. Eyes wide, and my mind beginning to race, everything felt like it was going in slow motion. Jungkook's hand flying to slap me in the arm to get my attention, the motion to follow him through the turnstiles, even swiping my ID felt like some strange dream.

The closer we moved to this fucking buffet of a man, the more I could sense my own hunger. Two-months-worth of hunger began to overflow like my own personal Vesuvius. Everything in my body was telling me to eat, to feed while I still had no personal tie to this Wonho. He was a meal of a man and I shouldn't pass up on an opportunity like this.

"Dude, you missed game night—you owe me big time," Jungkook greeted.

The two guys had their manly exchange of greeting gestures before they separated.

"I told you I wasn't going to make it because of that dinner at my parents' house."

"Lame."

Wonho punched Jungkook in the shoulder and had Jungkook been human, I could tell it would've hurt. But Jungkook did a good job realizing this little fact as he feigned betrayal and pain while rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm fragile."

"Fragile my ass," this Adonis-like man spat back.

"Now, before I fight you, I need to ask: Are you on shift for Max Out Mondays?"

Wonho nodded before he lifted his index finger. "But not for you," he clarified. "Maybe for her though."

And that's when two dark brown eyes pierced right through me. For a second, I couldn't hear a thing going on around me as a gasp audibly left me. My brain was just fast enough to catch the mistake and compensate by coughing, make it seem like I tried yawning but ended up choking on air. As the heat rose in my cheeks, I looked away.

"That's actually who I'm trying to get in on the Max Out Monday," Jungkook asserted, shifting his eyes to me. He was obviously trying to convey that he knew I was doomed to at least eat a little bit during this session. "She's a nerd and has no time to just relax you know?"

Wonho's gaze landed on me and that's when I noticed how his black hair was parted on the right and the trendy style. As his eyes continued to stare back at me, the plump pink tempters only spread to reveal perfectly white and straight teeth. There wasn't a flaw on this man and I was starting to think there would be a catch somewhere. I just couldn't be sure where.

"Well, what can I do for you?"

"Food," I mindlessly blurted out. My brain was so foggy and hazy that I couldn't even recover fast enough.

One of his jet-black eyebrows arched as he smiled warmly at me, but my best friend cackled in almost villainous way.

Jungkook slung an arm around my shoulder as he addressed Wonho again. "You might need to explain what kind of services are available."

"Oh sure! We've got a few things available. Foot massages are kind of popular at the moment, full leg massages are available as well. Standard massages which would include neck and back—I already have raving reviews on that."

"Do you do full-body massages?"

I choked and instinctively hit Jungkook in the stomach. What the fuck was he doing?

"Um, well technically if you do the leg massage and the standard one, it's like a full-body massage."

"Can she get that one?"

"Sure."

"I was thinking--"

"Sweet, how much do I owe you?" Jungkook asked, cutting me off mid-sentence.

Wonho shrugged, "I'll do it as a favor. You look really tense."

"It's easy to get tense when you’re writing three papers simultaneously," Jungkook replied. "Just...take good care of her, she's like my sister."

I rolled my eyes, but mid-roll, something happened that no one in this exchange could actually take back.

Wonho puffed his chest out, dignity becoming apparent in his stature. "These hands are fined-tuned machines my friend. She’ll be singing a new tune by the time I’m finished."

Right there, I could've sworn I was seconds away from blacking out, my hunger becoming so overpowering my eyes were prickling with tears. But it took every ounce of strength I had left not to pass out right there. Unfortunately, that meant other parts of my willpower that failed and gave up entirely.

My eyes glossed over and suddenly my logical brain was no longer at the controls. A loud sound wrestled its way from the back of my throat, moving my vocal chords at an alarming rate. And soon the sound seeped from lips in the sound of a distinctive moan.

A moan so loud everyone within earshot could hear without so much as straining.

I didn't want to look at Jungkook because I was sure he was more than satisfied with himself and even happier that Wonho was willing to taunt me unknowingly. If only I didn't have to hear his response.

"I think in Y/N speak, that means she's excited to get started," he said.

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kingminie · 7 years

Text

blazing arrows | pt. 5

❝The majority calls me Cupid, but, you can call me Jimin—I believe I owe you some debts for a mistake now long overdue.❞

⌲ genre: fluff, angst, future smut, & supernatural, au.

⌲ member: jimin feat. jungkookie

⌲ word count: 7.2 k

⌲ warnings: future mature content & shit tons of swearing.

↠ description: Stuck in what seemed to be unrequited relationship with Jeon Jungkook who just so happens to be in committed relationship with someone else as well, your heart was fragmented beyond any repair. So what exactly happens when you enter your room at 3 in the morning to find the culprit of your hellish misery, counting his gold-tipped arrows on the foot of your bed—wings outstretched and all?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ongoing

a month later.

"You look happy."

If Min Yoongi's looks could kill, there was no doubt Kim Taehyung would've been dead on the spot. Face planted on his damned two packet Splenda, two quarter teaspoon vanilla, and three spoons of cinnamon induced complicated ass coffee, you hoped to yourself as you stared incredulously at the boy across you, wondering how preposterous his previous remark was, no doubt a meme-worthy expression plastered on your face, own mug stopping midair.

"Well, I didn't exactly spend my time moping and crying myself to sleep, Tae, for your information," you rolled your eyes, putting down the glass on the table, Where the hell was Park Jimin?

"I just thought—y'know, it's been like a month since—"

"Shut the fuck up, Taehyung," Yoongi groaned, "Doesn't mean she got her heart broken she has to deal with that shit, crying and isolating herself from the rest of the human race, which, if I'm not mistaken, something you did when that girl from your university who you claimed to be your girlfriend asked who the fuck you were."

Taehyung pouted, scooting himself closer to the window to distance himself from Yoongi who was rolling his eyes, the younger one protesting all his might to defend his close-to-none dignity. Throwing your head back, you were left with nothing to do but laugh at Yoongi's mock expression to Taehyung who was muttering incoherently about how he ended up with friends that has a rock for a heart and another with a solid fucking ice.

What Taehyung said after all hit you. If the circumstances would have been different and whatever happened with Jungkook, well, happened, you would've been miserable as miserable could ever get—you wouldn't have been happy and probably soothing your heartache away with nothing but series marathons that would probably run for three days without the word "sleep" in your vocabulary, enveloped in a sea of trash of junk foods and several tubs of ice creams, along the undoubtedly snot-filled tissues you would have thrown wherever and the long list of missed calls and gazillion unread messages from friends and family that wondered if you had disappeared from the face of the Earth.

And it really would've been like that if it weren't for a certain sweet fluffball named Park Jimin.

Days ensuing that one shitty day, Jimin had tirelessly made sure that not even a drop nor a faint trace of sadness was made known to your haze-filled brain; cooking you breakfast every morning—despite your fervent request for him not to after finding the numerous stack of burnt pancakes on the garbage bin and how the kitchen was absolutely and utterly trashed—but you were really grateful for the mini pancakes that had whipped cream on top, shaped into miniature eyes and lips that smiled at you every morning, taking home take-out coffee from your favorite coffee shop that was not even remotely close to your neighborhood after his so-called "jog" that has fallen into his tight routine now, along the bag of chocolate cookies that was sold on the other end of town from where the cafe was, little notes attached at the bag with Jimin's adorable scribble of a handwriting and the tiny animations he never forgets to put in the corner.

As much you deemed it corny and a little bit cliched, you can't deny that the numerous random little notes that Jimin leaves every where in the house—may it be in the corner of the milk carton inside the fridge—the little notes now had their own little space in the corner of your dresser box.

"Have you ever talked to him? You know, since then," Yoongi asked, biting on to his brownie.

"Twice," you shrugged, "The last one was last night actually. He asked me about our Christmas party tonight. The little fuck actually asked if I was fine with him being around, like shit, we've always celebrated Christmas together, like hell would I let out little falling apart break that. And, this is where it gets interesting. He asked me about you two shitheads. Have you been ignoring him?"

"I'm not," Yoongi was quick to answer, hands raising in defense, "I'm genuinely busy to answer to his invitations for a quick dinner with Namjoon and the two geese. That question must be directed to Taehyung alone, not me."

You knew Taehyung was about to protest but sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat, "Yeah."

"Kim Taehyung—"

"Before you lecture me about that, let me explain myself," he gulped down the rest of his drink, slightly choking in the process. Typical, "I really can't face him, (Y/N). I can't hangout with him because all I'd see is you breaking down all over again because of him. And despite what you think of me being the tender, little Taehyung who can't pack a punch, I'll do a number on his face if I ever see him without me confirming that you were like okay okay."

Touched was an understatement because hell, you were moved by Kim fucking Taehyung, "Tae, he's your best friend too and it's not really his fault, you know."

"I know. But you're four years more of a best friend before I met him," he shrugged, "Despite the fact that I always nag you, you're basically my sister—so call it a brotherly instinct, if you must."

"Who knew you're such a mush?" Yoongi groaned beside him, overcoming the surprise you didn't miss earlier, "But yeah, the kid's right somehow. I'm closer to you than I am to Jungkook, so even though I'm trying not to be biased, I hate it. I don't hate Jungkook, obviously, but I do hate your feelings for him because well, they hurt you."

"And you talk about me being a mush."

"Suck my ass."

"I've heard enough shit coming from your mouth, so no, thank you."

"Screw you."

"You want to?" Taehyung had the boxy smile on his face, amusement rolling off of him as he saw how much Yoongi was getting riled up.

"Stop," you laughed, feeling your stomach starting to hurt from the amount of laughter you have been doing for the past two hours you've been with the two dorks.

Your friendship with Yoongi and Taehyung had always been like this since day one; snarky comments thrown back and forth, curses soaring towards each other like heavy bullets, and the never ending sarcastic exchanges that seemed to be on a loop once it starts—but despite how they can be too much of an asshole and prank-loving jerks, they've always got your back no matter what and you couldn't be anymore thankful for having been given a Min Yoongi and a Kim Taehyung in your life.

"Aren't we supposed to go gift shopping?" Taehyung whined, "What are we still doing here?"

"I will not in a million years go shopping with you again," you snorted, "Yoongi will go with you."

"Oh, such a privilege." Yoongi rolled his eyes before picking up his phone, "We'll leave once Jimin arrives. Where is he anyway?"

"I don't know, he texted me that he was near though. Had to drop by at home for something."

In a second, Taehyung was gasping—really, he just looked like an alien (which he really is) gasping for whatever shit he was breathing for on Earth—looking at you as if you had set all his Gucci products on fire, "He has a phone? The jerk actually has a phone?"

"Calm your Gucci clad ass. He just got it last week," you chuckled, "and for the record, he sent you a text which you never bother to reply to, by the way."

Taehyung had his eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through his phone, "No, he didn't. I didn't receive anything from that—oh."

"Yeah," you rolled your eyes, "Oh."

"You're still living together?" Yoongi smirked, that damned knowing smirk of his you wanted nothing but to slap out his face.

"He's a company worth keeping," you shrugged, "So don't expect him to disappear for a long while."

After a hundred more snappy comebacks, you resorted to scroll through your social media, keeping your asshole comments to yourself because you were really trying to be a good person lately. You really just had to scoff at that thought. Feeling a little bit unsatisfied at how the new cafe's coffee tasted—it was somewhat good but not that good (for you, anyway) that you felt like actually crossing the street, order a Dunkin' coffee, and enter back to satisfy your coffee-claimed heart.

Shopping in mind, you thought how today's going to be a long, long day since you haven't even bought a single flipping present for tonight before turning to Taehyung who was playing with the straw, "I hope you know that I wouldn't be buying you any more present after the one I gave you on your birthday. I nearly went broke with that one, mind you."

"It's okay," Taehyung grinned, almost depicting a small child, "Yoongi—"

"Oh no, you shit, don't start with me. I wouldn't be buying you any thing worth more than a dollar."

"Ah, I'm sorry I'm late," you weren't even surprised to say the least when Jimin popped out out of nowhere, plopping down on the seat beside you before handing you a cup of coffee. If it was possible to smile even bigger after seeing Jimin, you did.

Jimin gave a complicated handshake both to Yoongi and Taehyung in greeting—which you find yourself laughing to because since when did the three become so close they had a handshake? You opened the lid of large plastic cup, inhaling the familiar scent of coffee you've always loved and practically inhaled the coffee.

"Shall we go?" You looked up, eyebrows raised as you sloshed the cup around.

"You better buy me a good gift."

"After you suck Yoongi's ass, I will."

His eyes never left yours as laughter passed your lips as the wind breezed past his face, invigorating and gelid as it settled upon his skin, the amount of adrenaline bobbling through his veins in rushing waves as you swung him higher and higher with every forceful push wielded on the rattling chains behind, his hair inlacing in a complex tangled mess, soaring along the soft caress of the blowing wind that surrounded the both of you, but he didn't care—he was having fun. He was in his happiest with you.

Gesturing towards the broad unoccupied space on the swing set beside him, you stare at the idle camera in Jungkook's hands before sitting on the swing yourself, complaining as the unmistakable flash caught you by surprise. He held it away from his face for a few seconds, staring at the miniature screen with his wide grin before practically shoving the whole thing in your face, "Kookie! Delete that, I look like shit."

"How dare you," Jungkook scoffed, "My camera has no space for shitty portraits."

"Exactly!" You stressed, throwing yours hands in the air but the unmistakable trace of laughter still lacing your tone nonetheless, "All you have in your fancy camera are beautifully taken photos of beautiful scenery and beautiful little objects so please, delete my pho—"

"If so, you deserve to be here then," Jungkook mumbled, looking through his photos which was indeed filled with portraits of nothing else but the sunsets and unbelievable structures of the different places he has been to, your picture being the only one of the candid portrait on his camera.

Jungkook missed the way your blood spread all over your face, how your body suddenly felt hot despite the fact that it was in the middle of Winter. You suddenly stood up from the swings, going behind him and suddenly pushing his own swing forcefully that he nearly fell off at how high he was.

As soon as he had both his feet on the ground, he wasted no time and chased you, laughing his ass off when you tripped by yourself and got a mouthful of snow in return. Still chuckling to himself, he jogged over to where you were, unmoving and motionless as you tried to decipher why you had an asshole for a best friend, offering his hand for you to grip on.

When you were steady on both feet, you were immediately pulled into a playful headlock by a rabbit—yes, Jungkook—leaving you to struggle to grip whatever you can from him. Jungkook snorted, noting how pathetic you look as you tried to reach his hair before finally letting you go and ruffling your hair, "Merry Christmas, you dork."

Jungkook stared at the portrait pinned on his photo board, the only photo in his wall that contained a person in it—hell, not even his girlfriend had a spot on that wall—letting out a small smile at how adorable his best friend had looked, hair spewed everywhere as little dusts of snowflakes fell all over you. Letting out a sigh, he unpinned the photo from the board before just simply staring at it and glancing towards his phone in doubt—the urge to call you surging through his systems in rash torrents, "Merry Christmas, you dork."

He relished on the silence for a while, just staring on the portrait on his hands until he heard his door creak open after three consecutive knocks, his girlfriend's head poking through the small gap with a toothy grin. Laughing, Jungkook plopped down on the foot of his bed after pinning the photo back up, waiting for her to fully enter his room.

Ji Eun adorably jumped from the hallway to his room, hands thrown in the air with a bright smile as she modeled her bright red reindeer sweater—Jungkook knew no doubt that another pair was hidden somewhere in her somewhat magical purse that seemed to be bottomless—with a few bags on her arms.

"Tada!" she chuckled before launching herself to Jungkook who was laughing as he wrapped his arms around her, "Merry Christmas, Jungkookie."

"Merry Christmas to you too, crazy," he ruffled her hair as she made herself comfortable on his chest, "I love you."

"And I you, baby," she tightened her hold on him for a while before finally pushing herself off of him, "Since you've given me my present yesterday even though we said strictly no presents, I think it's just fair if I give you mine now. I know you'll really love it since I'm sure you told me he was your favorite."

Jungkook sat up on the edge of his bed, watching his girlfriend as she lifted the huge wrapped box from his floor, holding it out to him with an excited grin which mirrored Jungkook's own as he too was elated to know what was inside the box, a clear idea of what was inside already making its way through his head as he shook the box.

If this is the Iron Man limited set I've been talking about for the past months, then shit, Im ready to marry this girl, he thought to himself as he slowly ripped the blue wrapper, the familiar Marvel label immediately waving at his face and he nearly burst into unending tears.

Happiness seemed to danced all over his blood as he slowly ripped the wrapper all the way down, his heart threatening to burst through his chest, making him mentally scoff at himself at how exactly a twenty-something-year-old man could be so excited over a toy. But to Jungkook, Iron Man wasn't just a fucking toy.

Although, at the next second, similar to the amount of happiness that singed his skin was the very same amount—if not, more—of disappointment that washed all over him like he was being suddenly rubbed with ice personally shipped from Antarctica, as he stared at the print on the box.

Captain America.

Fucking Captain America.

His girlfriend got him a Captain America set despite the fact that he had whined fucking Iron Man repetitively when they were together.

And if wasn't obvious with the figurines and stuffed toys decorating my room, then fuck me, he thought to himself as he stared at the blue toy set before his glance roamed all over his room that was basically overflowing with Iron Man stuff; all he needed to do was to change his room wallpaper into a portrait of the character and his room could be considered a museum for Iron Man.

"This is...wow, thank you, babe," Jungkook stared at his girlfriend's face that was full of apprehension and hope that he couldn't find it in himself to show his disappointment. I was needing a bit of blue in the sea of red, I guess, he thought to himself.

"You like it?"

"I love it," Jungkook grinned, pulling his girlfriend into a hug before plopping down on his back, still tangled with Ji Eun, "Are the rest of the presents for tonight?"

"Yeah," Her voice was muffled as she pressed light kisses unto Jungkook's neck before pulling back so that she could properly see his face, "I hope (Y/N) likes what I bought for her, though, since that dork really doesn't like receiving anything extravagant and it's the only thing I know for sure she'll love."

"Hm, really?"Jungkook swept a strand of hair from her forehead, "What is it?"

"Iron Man."

I'm the one who likes him, Jungkook bit his inside cheeks, She's the one who likes Captain America.

Before he could utter anything, his phone chimed from the nightstand, Ji Eun rolling on the bed before closing her eyes as she settled on the pillows.

He didn't seem to believe that you texted him as he stared down on his phone, counting down the zero messages you have dropped him for the past couple weeks and maybe the two phone calls you actually gave him that lasted barely a minute. So, knowing that, a miracle was what it was when your contact name appeared on his home screen, along the notification that you had sent a message.

[2:26 P.M.] my loser: Hey Jungkook! Just letting you guys know that the party will start earlier than usual. Make sure to be by my house at 7. See you.

[2:27 P.M.] my loser: Don't be late! Hah.

[2:27 P.M.] my loser: :)

Seeing your message, Jungkook thought that it would've been actually better if you hadn't. How you formally constructed the message—which you never use with him—shown through your text; proper capitalization, punctuation, and all that shit. Along with the fucking smiley he knew you really forgot and just added just so that he wouldn't think anything else of it, and what the fuck was a "hah"—if it was supposed to be laughter then screw that crap because the period at the end ruined it.

He knew it was immature and stupid to notice the littlest things like this but then again, how could he help it?

[2:30 P.M.] Jungkook: wouldn't even dream of it :)

He lost track of time on how long he stayed standing in front of his bedside table, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the screen of his phone as he waited for a reply, forgetting that his girlfriend was inside his room, leaving her to stare after his back as he sighed that his hopes were let down once again—not by you but by himself.

[3:01 P.M.] Jungkook: Merry Christmas, loser.

Sighing once again, he was literally close to throwing his phone when sixteen minutes had passed, yes, he actually counted.

"Babe, are you okay?"

Jungkook turned around, flashing Ji Eun what supposed to be a reassuring smile, "Yeah, don't wo—"

He was cut off with the sudden vibration of his phone, his eagerness surprising both him and Ji Eun.

[3:18 P.M.] my loser: merry christmas, dork.

Sixteen minutes was worth it.

"Aye, love, the wise men followed the star—"

Laughter bubbled from the pits of your chest as you stared at Jimin who was grinning wildly as he bounced around the living room, leaving you to wonder how such a small fluffball can have so much energy, his freaking infectious damn smile seemed to reach the heavens as belted out the lyrics along the loud music emitted by the speakers, your round hair brush gripped tightly on his hand as he seemed to have his own concert—and quite frankly, if it was one, you'd probably sell your own house and buy a ticket because Park Jimin has a voice, that type of singing voice that'll sing the song you hated the most but you'd gladly let him sing it just so you could listen to his voice forever.

You couldn't help but stare after him as he pranced around, a smile you did not know was there finding its way in your face as you leaned your head on the banister while you sat on the very last step of the stairs, sipping your own eggnog.

"The way I followed my heart," Jimin shook his eyebrows teasingly as he gave you a pointed look, taking slow steps that was in sync with the beat of the music before gently gripping your wrist to pull you up.

"And it led me to a miracle."

Jimin gently tapped the tip of your nose, leaving you quite breathless and stunned as both his hands reached up to casually clasp your neck, just underneath your jaw, his thumbs slowly pushing your head back that you would be able to look into his face. You bit your lip in apprehension as he stared you down, a smile taunting his lips but you knew he was holding it back.

"What are you doing?"

"Aren't you my miracle then?" Jimin teased, his familiar chuckle making its way out.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly pushing on his chest to let you go, feeling somewhat overwhelmed with the almost non-existent distance between your bodies, along the flipping warm touch of Park Jimin that warmed your body more than the crackling fire beside you did, "You followed where your arrow took you, idiot, and I don't exactly see you as one of the wise men."

"You're mean," Jimin pouted, immediately laughing right after he tangled the microphone, hairbrush rather, on your hair, mercilessly rolling it around until your hair was basically ripped out.

"Jimin," you whined, pulling on the end of the brush, "Everybody's on their way and I really won't be surprised if someone would burst through the doors in two seconds and you just have to go and do this. Ow, what the hell."

He was full-on laughing by then, bent over and clutching his belly as his eyes turned into tiny moon crescents carved on his face, high-pitched breathy laughter escaping his mouth that instead of you getting angry, you unintentionally let out a snort, laughter knocking on the doors of your trembling lips.

"Come here you," your eyes widened when he straightened up, standing so close that the tip of his shoes firmly touched the edge of yours, pulling your raised elbows as you tried to untangle the knots in your head, losing your balance at his unexpected action and all of the sudden, all you could hear was the blood rushing altogether on your face and the heavy pounding of your heart against your chest as you stayed frozen on the spot, forehead basically fucking glued to his chest, the only thought running through your head was that Park Jimin smells fucking heavenly.

And that his chest was practically rock that you feel a bump coming on your head.

And that you probably look stupid with your arms awkwardly raised midair.

And the deadly-flipping-fact that Park Jimin's hand were on your fucking waist, holy shit.

Your hands, which seemed to have a mind of their own—let's just say that for the preservation of your pride and dignity, falling down to grip the sides of his sweater, tightly gripping it that you were sure little holes would be present if you removed your hand, "You bastard, get your hands off me." I'll die if you don't.

You felt his chest and shoulders shake, clearly knowing that the jerk was laughing.

"Stay that way," Jimin surprisingly exclaimed when you made a move to lift your head—which still had the brush violently attached to it, "I'll remove it—do not move your fingers further."

Your eyes narrowed on the floor as you stopped wiggling your fingers on his sides, slightly digging it into his skin, feeling him stiffen underneath and you grinned, "Are you ticklish, Chim?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

You started to repetitively poke on his flesh, feeling him stiffen even more if that was possible, sliding your hands just a little bit further up before harshly poking, a loud grunt emitted from Jimin and you laughed, "Okay, I'll stop—who am I kidding? I'm not stopping until you admit—"

"Fine, yes, I have a funny spot there, geez, you're so annoying," Jimin huffed, gently pulling on your hair once again.

"Now, that's more like it," you grinned, satisfied. You finally decided to wrap your hands around his waist, intertwining your fingers behind him. Why? You didn't know either.

"We might need a scissors for thi—"

"Fuck no," you nearly cried at the thought of him snipping your locks alone, "I will cut your wings in your sleep, Jimin, I'm not even kidding."

He laughed, patting the top of your head, feeling no more pain from where the brush was, "I don't think we have another choice for this, (Y/N)," He then made a move to walk towards the kitchen but you tightened your grip around him, and there's no explanation nor description to what you were doing because you were straight up hugging him by now, eyes shut tightly on his chest that you missed how he bit the insides of his cheek to stop the grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

Jimin leaned back, amusement pooling his eyes as he stared at the top of your head, "Wow, I didn't you know liked me that mu—"

His stupid remark was once again cut off—this time, though, it was not by you much to your horror—by the front door suddenly hitting the wall as it burst open, a chorus of definitely not just one person echoing throughout the living room.

"Merry Christma—oh, whoa whoa." Fucking Kim Taehyung.

"Well, hi there." Fucking Kim Seokjin.

"Having fun, you two?" Fucking Kim Namjoon.

"Eh heh hey!" Fucking Jung Hoseok.

"Oh." Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

Your grip on Jimin loosened the next second, jumping apart from him like he was suddenly on fire and he suddenly retracted to his shell, smiling shyly towards your clearly amused guest before rolling your eyes, "It's not what you think it was. Come in you bastards—oh, hello, Ji Eun, it's a surprise seeing you tonight."

You could feel several eyes on your skin, actually, you could feel all their eyes on you as you greeted the latter with a genuine smile, "Yeah, it's quite a surprise for Jungkook and I too, my parents are still stuck on their business trip so I'm left alone to fend for myself this Christmas but your best friend became Superman all of a sudden. I hope you don't mind?"

It has been tradition for you and the rest of the boys to spend the actual Christmas day after spending it with the individual's family the day before, and for the past years, Ji Eun had always spent it with her family since they were traveling businesspersons and Christmas holidays were only one of the rare days they would be complete inside the house.

But not this year, I guess, you thought to yourself.

"I really don't," you laughed, shaking your head, "You're more than welcome here, you know that."

"Thank you," she smiled back before noticing some of the presents on her hand, "Where should I..."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll—"

You were cut off by Jimin suddenly appearing on your side, "I got it."

He placed the presents underneath the Christmas tree, along with the presents of the rest of the boys, arranging it in order with the help of Namjoon who was on his knees, passing around the boxes to arrange on the red reindeer mat.

Despite your protests, Ji Eun assured you that it really was okay, so, defeated, you watch her walked towards the boys who were arranging the presents before squatting down herself and asking Namjoon what help she could offer. Jeez, could she be any more of an angel?

"Now, mind telling what was that back there with Jiminie?" Taehyung was suddenly on your side, eyebrows raised and a smirk grazing his face.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Taehyung," you rolled your eyes—remembering so suddenly that the hair brush was still stuck to your head and you nearly slapped yourself, "As you can see, a hairbrush is stuck to my head. He was just helping me out but to no avail, it's still stuck."

Taehyung's gaze moved to your head and his eyebrows furrowed, "But it's not even—"

To your surprise, Jungkook moved forward from where he was somewhere behind Taehyung since he had entered, hands reaching out to your hair before the brush was detached from your head in one swift pull, and honestly, you expected to feel the sting of the somewhat harsh pull of the brush—even a slight sting—but there was nothing. Jungkook stuck his hand out with the brush, your hands slowly reaching out for it, a small nod sent your way before he brushed past you.

"Jimin was playing with your hair when we entered, you stupid," Taehyung laughed before running towards the dining room.

Your gaze landed on Jimin who had stilled his movements, hands midair above the bright red sleigh-print wrapped box, and despite the fact that he was turned away from you, you could see from the reflection on the television screen that his cheeks were raised and that he was fucking smiling and you nearly fainted right then and there.

The little cheeky shit.

Under normal circumstances, you would've surely hit Seokjin who suddenly held you in a headlock but the fact that you were so consumed in your own pool of thoughts, you didn't bother which made him look at you in curiosity, "Dinner is served, everyone! You lot better finish the one I cooked. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears in making that legendary dish."

"Well, that made it disgusting," you pushed him off.

"You know what I mean," Jin rolled his eyes, pinching your cheeks.

Right then, Taehyung came through from the kitchen like a raged bull, "Hurry up eating! I want to open presents!"

"Why do I associate with these idiots again?

Because you're one too, that's what.

Realizing you had left your own bunch of presents in Jimin's bedroom, you had excused yourself from the buzzing group who were left downstairs to retrieve them, declining any form of help they had offered since you knew you could handle it anyway; taking notice of the tinge of pink that dusted their pale skins, which of course is the doing of the one and only Kim Namjoon who had managed to sneak in some alcohol—which you turned a blind eye to considering the fact that a bottle was also clasped in your right hand.

You entered Jimin's room unknowingly, not expecting Jimin himself to be there, spread eagle in the middle of his bed with his legs hanging down from the edge, a half-empty beer bottle on his right hand and his phone on the other—raised above his face, the full light from the screen illuminating his skin which accentuated the small smile that grazed his lips.

Narrowing your eyes with a playful smile of your own, you jumped on the bed, landing perfectly on his side before sitting up in a cross-legged position, pouting as soon he turned the phone off swiftly and let it plop down on the mattress, placing his hand behind his head before taking a long chug from the bottle, eyes piercing through you as if there was no tomorrow.

In the passing months you had been spending with Jimin, you concluded that the flipping kid literally had two versions of himself since his personality changes from time to time like a damn switch that turns off and on rapidly that you felt like having a whiplash every single time he switched from one version of him to another.

And all night long you and the rest of the group had been seeing and talking to Chim—as what you'd like to call the first version of him—the shy, cheeky, and aloof little fluffball you had first seen in your bedroom at three in the freaking morning months back; the one who could barely give you any eye contact the first few weeks but then transformed to what seemed to be a reincarnated two-year-old in Cupid's body after a while.

But now? This was fucking Park Jimin.

Jimin panty-dropping Park who was a straight up god damned walking sex on legs—he's named Eros, the handsome and irresistible one somewhere else in the world for crying out loud—that makes you mentally drop to your knees, hands clasping together in prayer in enormous gratitude to the heavens above your roof that someone like Jimin actually existed in reality.

Fucking Cupid, why did he have to be this fine?

"You're going to stare at me the whole night? Or..." He casually threw his head back, his throat moving along as he swallowed the liquid, and with the rate your eyes followed every single move of his muscle, you could practically see the alcohol running down his throat behind his skin. Holy mothershitter.

"I wasn't staring at you, you vain lord," you muttered despite his snort and before he could catch you shamelessly staring once again, you turn your attention on his discarded phone, picking it up to stick your nose into whatever business he was doing before you went inside, only to be barred with freaking password, "This annoyi—what the hell, you kept this wallpaper?"

Jimin cracked one eye open, training it on the screen before chuckling, "Don't even think of changing it."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," you grumbled, staring at the photo.

It was a photo of you—a very shitty one at that—he had snapped when he was just trying out his phone for the first time after he had bought it. You had been in an animal onesie and you had been in the middle of ceaselessly stuffing food into your mouth when he suddenly called your name and the next thing you knew, a bright light nearly blinded you and Jimin was laughing on the floor the next second.

"I look like chipmunk caught in the middle of stealing something here, Jimin."

"You did steal something though," Jimin laughed.

"Excuse me?" your jaw dropped in disbelief, "Mind telling me what exactly? Seems like you know more than I do."

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh shit," your eyes widened, finding the presents on the corner, "We have to be down like right now."

Jimin let out a laugh as he followed suit, helping you drag your presents downstairs, only to be greeted with several amused and knowing—along with one passive—expressions. You placed the bag along the pile of presents neatly displayed beside the Christmas tree before turning to the rest, "Should I go get the eggnogs?"

"You should!" Taehyung gave you boxy grin as you glared at him before going to the kitchen nonetheless.

The steaming mugs were placed into several separate trays and there were still some left on the microwave since Taehyung would undoubtedly ask for a second and a third mug, bowls of popcorn placed on the side since you would be having a Disney marathon probably until seven in the morning and you lot still won't stop, large bags of enormous sized chips hanging on both your hands as you once again entered the living room, distributing the drinks and just letting the food down on the table before joining Jimin who stood behind the couch Namjoon was sitting on.

Taehyung and Seokjin seemed to eye the both of you with mischief, making you raise an eyebrow and had you backing away once Taehyung started walking towards the both you like a lion ready to pounce before he stopped right in front of you, all eyes turning to him at the moment and everyone else seemed to be in on an inside joke once they landed on you.

Taehyung placed a hand on your shoulder and the other on Jimin's, "Ah, you two."

"The fuck is with you?" you chuckled nervously before he really pushed both you and Jimin back five steps backwards that your butt nearly became glued on the window, "Tae, what the hell?"

Taehyung looked up before he exaggeratedly gasped, "Uh oh."

Confused, you threw your head back to see what all the fuss was all about and you nearly blushed your head off.

Twats.

Because there, hanging and swinging happily as if to say 'it's your motherfucking chance, bitches', was a mistletoe.

Frankly speaking you had no exact reason as to why you did what you did next; it wasn't the alcohol trudging through your system the very moment that made you do something that was somewhat too out of character for you to do, or the motivational and just downright excited cheers your friends made in the background, nor the fact that Jimin looked especially inviting when he ran his hands nervously through his ash hair and the way he puffed out his cheeks as pink dusted his skin—okay, shit, it was exactly all that—so gently pulling on Jimin's sleeve, you stood on your tiptoes and then your lips swiftly landed on his cheek for a very quick second before you pull away, hiding your grin at the fact that Jimin remained stoic and unmoving—eyes wide and face flushing crimson red, his hand slowly reaching up to the spot you just kissed him.

Kissed him.

Well damn, does that sound good, you thought to yourself before regaining your composure. You turned towards Taehyung, raising an eyebrow, "Are you satisfied?"

Tae shrugged, "Hm, okay."

You were about to throw back yet another retort when you felt the ends of your sweater being pulled back and the next thing you fucking know was that you were a literal hair circumference away from Jimin, the contents of you mug slightly sloshing out and unto the floor as it seemed to be your turn to remain wide-eyed as you stared at the little snowman detail on Jimin's sweater, not having enough courage to look up nor turn your head even just a fraction because the tip of his nose was brushing against the top of your forehead.

String of curses flew around your head in an extremely fast rate that Flash' speed would be put to shame, just as your heartbeat was doing. You doubt Jimin hadn't really felt the raging thunder you call a heartbeat.

"Taehyung might say that but you know what? I..." His whisper was more than enough for your brain to go haywire that you couldn't even remember what the alphabets were, much less the damned, thrilling pause he had to do, "...might need just a little, little bit more."

Then his lips were on yours.

It wasn't the teeth-clashing, saliva-all-over, lets-makeout-like-there-is-no-tomorrow-my-tongue-is-falling-off kind off kiss but fuck was this way better.

Slow, gentle, and just a touch of fucking everything you needed and wanted.

Screw forgetting the alphabets and numbers and words because as his free hand intertwined with your cold ones, your brain blanched and just straight up short circuited, you didn't even know how to fucking function anymore.

Jimin was the first to pull away, a low chuckle escaping his lips before quickly ducking down once again to press his lips quickly just like you had when you had kissed him on the cheek.

Now you were convinced you were in heaven.

But then again, this was you—the girl who never fails to have at least one Friday-the-13th-esque mishap in a day, the girl who has the worst of luck that happiness just seemed to stay for a few minutes before jumping out the window and disappearing midair. So of course, just when things were going on the right track, the inevitable comes and fucking sweeps the joy right under your nose; just in a snap of a finger.

It happened too fast—so damn fast that you hadn't comprehend the shocked choke of Ji Eun when Jungkook stood up before turning around on his seat, jaw clenched so tight that you became afraid he was going to smash his teeth together.

Unlike the overrated movies, everything else didn't move in slow motion just like you were desperately praying for when Jungkook's fist made brutal contact with Jimin's, the latter who was not expecting the blow staggered on his feet as he clutched his now-bruising pale skin, eyes staying glued on the floor as the shock registered upon him.

"Jungkook!" Complete and utter horror was written all over Ji Eun's face as she stood up from her seat before completely blocking Jungkook's vision of Jimin, pushing her boyfriend's chest harshly that you even flinched but you doubted Jungkook even felt it with the way he was so concentrated on looking at Jimin, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Everyone else was completely silent—mouths hanging open in shock and disbelief at what the fuck just happened; Taehyung nearly had the whole bottle shoved down his throat as he stared, Jin had the alcohol running down his chin as his mouth hung open, and Yoongi being Yoongi tried to look shocked but the slight twitch of his lips said otherwise, Namjoon and Hoseok being the only ones not stupefied as they pulled away Ji Eun who was close to hysterics.

And you? Well, you certainly didn't have the time to tend to Jimin because as the latter's hold on the beer bottle loosened and hit the floor with a loud crash as the bottle shattered into little piece and you knew the night was doomed.

Because the next thing you know, Jeon Jungkook was on the ground, sporting a bleeding lip before pulling back his arm to try and land a hit on Jimin.

Now as you run towards the two in horror, you couldn't help but conclude that on this year's Christmas Eve, seems like the angels weren't the ones that blessed the corners of your house because you were fairly certain it was the demon who came to entertain himself out of your situation.

A situation that seemed to just become more and more fucked up all because of a certain Jeon Jungkook who had his feelings jumbled all over the place and a certain Park Jimin who, despite of telling himself not to, started to sprout feelings for someone he just wanted to help—not expecting for his dormant strings to attach themselves yet once again.

i am so so so so sorry for the long wait (｡•́︿•̀｡)

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