Kim Taehyung Overstimulates You // Audio Smut

lost & found | jeon jungkook

summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot

➣18.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end

song inspo: bff — jesse

As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.

You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.

Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?

There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.

”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“

”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.

“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”

”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.

He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

“Y/n.”

Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.

“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,

Jeon Jungkook.

Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.

”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.

“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.

”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.

You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”

“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”

“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.

“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.

It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”

Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.

You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.

“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.

“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.

Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”

“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.

“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”

“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.

“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.

“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”

“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“

“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”

Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”

Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”

He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”

“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”

“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.

“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”

Before he broke up with your best friend.

“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”

“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”

You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.

Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.

In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.

Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.

It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…

Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.

It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.

One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.

They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.

When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.

You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.

She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.

So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.

You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.

It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.

They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.

That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.

You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.

The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.

“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”

“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.

“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”

Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.

yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?

you: idk, if I’m free

yoongi: … ur always free🤒

yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want

you: but is he ok with me going

yoongi: y wouldn’t he be

yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come

you: okkkkkk 🥹

“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”

“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”

“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.

“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“

“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.

“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”

Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”

Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.

He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.

He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.

You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.

Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.

With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.

When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.

“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.

“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”

“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.

“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”

You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?

Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”

After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.

“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”

“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.

“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”

“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.

“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.

“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.

He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.

“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.

Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.

“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”

You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”

He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”

“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.

“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”

“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.

“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.

“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”

“I thought you were having a good ti—“

“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”

“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…

“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”

“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”

“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”

“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”

She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”

He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”

He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.

“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.

“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”

“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”

Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”

The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.

“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”

Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent

“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“

“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”

“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”

“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.

“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“

“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”

“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.

Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”

“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”

With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”

The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”

You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.

Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.

“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”

“Take me back to the party please.”

Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.

Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.

“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”

“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”

He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”

You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.

What did you expect coming back?

What does this prove?

You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.

“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.

Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.

In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?

God, you felt like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.

“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.

You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.

Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”

“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.

“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”

A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.

Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.

He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.

When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.

“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.

“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.

He could not just go for it.

Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…

He could be dreaming it up.

Would you want him to?

No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.

You do not want him.

“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“

It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.

“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.

To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.

At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.

“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”

You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?

What was really stopping you?

Nothing.

The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.

Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.

He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.

Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.

You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.

His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.

“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.

Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.

They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.

He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.

You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.

When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.

He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.

You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.

At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.

You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.

“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”

“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.

His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.

His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.

Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.

His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.

“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.

“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.

“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.

Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.

It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.

“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”

“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”

“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”

Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”

He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.

Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”

You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.

Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”

His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”

You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”

Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”

All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.

You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.

“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”

He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.

You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?

Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”

The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.

“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.

miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳

miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?

miyoung: r u alive

miyoung: helloooooooo

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.

God, what did you do?

“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”

“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?

He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.

“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”

You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?

Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.

In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”

“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”

You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.

You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.

Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.

“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.

“What?”

“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”

“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”

He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”

“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Technically.

Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?

“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”

Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.

It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.

“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”

“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”

“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”

“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”

With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.

“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.

If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.

When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.

Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”

He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.

The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.

“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“

“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”

“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.

He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”

“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.

“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”

“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.

“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?

Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.

Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.

You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…

He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…

Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?

Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.

You always do as told without questioning it.

“You broke up with her.”

He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”

“Tell me,” you urged him on.

“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”

Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“

“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”

“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“

“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”

“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”

“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”

“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.

He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.

What did he mean that he liked you first?

Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?

You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?

Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?

“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”

Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.

“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”

Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?

And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.

Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.

“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.

“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.

“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”

With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”

“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”

“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“

“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”

Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.

“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”

You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.

“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”

Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.

“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.

“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”

“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.

“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.

“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.

Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”

“Bu—“

“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”

Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.

Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.

It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.

“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.

“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”

Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.

Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”

“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”

“Y/n.”

He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.

As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”

“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.

You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.

And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?

“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”

“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?

He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?

“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.

You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”

For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”

“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”

You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”

“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”

He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.

“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“

“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”

The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”

You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”

He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”

“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”

“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”

“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“

“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”

His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”

It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.

When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.

Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.

It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.

Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.

At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.

Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.

If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.

“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.

“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.

It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.

“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”

You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”

Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”

“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.

“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.

You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”

“I said because we’re together.”

You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”

“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.

You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”

The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”

“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

You whined, “Jung—“

“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.

“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”

“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.

“Y/n?”

You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.

“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.

“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.

“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.

It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”

Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.

“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”

Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”

This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”

“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”

Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.

“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.

“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”

Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.

“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.

He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”

“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.

“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”

Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.

“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.

“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.

“Then take it off me.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”

You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”

“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.

You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?

He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.

You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”

“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.

“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”

“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.

“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”

::.

NO PART TWO

oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately

please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

SUGA | Agust D TOUR

like or reblog if you save or use.

my fav writer yall 🫶🏻

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔨𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

✑ all my works and writings are purely works of fiction! do not copy and translate without my permission!

(s) : smut (f) : fluff (a) : angst (sg) : suggestive

thigh riding || (sg) 1k

warm hands || (sg) 0.8k

warm hands pt.2 || (s) (f) 2.5k

stay quiet for me || (s) (f) 0.9k

under the bed || (s) (f) 2.1k

under the bed pt.2 || (s) (f) 3.2k

stop teasing || (s) 1.1k

reflection || (s) 1.7k

cry for me || (s) 1.1k

are you gonna do it against the wall? || (s) 0.8k

sleepover || (s) (f) 1.7k

hotel room || (s) (f) 1.5k

don’t you want to get caught, do you? || (s) 0.4

sex shop || (s) (f) 4.2k

body chain || (s) (f) 1.3k

doctor Jeon || (s) (f) 2.8k

needy || (s) (f) 0.9k

hope || (s) (f) (a) [ SERIES : on going ]

unplanned night || (a) (s) 3.8k

office break || (s) (f) 3.1k

hot in black || (s) (f) 2.3k

midnight frustration || (s) (f) 0.6k

show you || (a) (sg) (f) 1.1k

feel special || (s) (f) 2k

kiss me || (sg) (f) 0.6k

sweet lips || (s) 7.8k

failed quickie || (sg) 0.3k

sweet lips 2 || (s) (f) (a) 13k

151231 ♡

▌© don’t repost or make packs! ᵔᴗᵔ

940912 — Happy Birthday, Kim Namjoon! ♡

somehow, you. | jungkook au

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ summary: he was the quiet one in class. the type who never talked unless called on, who looked at the world from behind thick-rimmed glasses and stayed out of everyone’s way. you? you were the girl everyone knew. the one who never let anyone in. you weren’t looking for connection, and he wasn’t the kind to ask for it. but still… he did. and somehow, it worked.

ratings: 18+

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

genre: college AU, emotional intimacy, slightly slow burned.

warnings: explicit sexual content including unprotected sex (not advised), soft but possessive dirty talk, emotional vulnerability, praise, mild insecurity and reassurance, and a rough but tender dynamic in an established relationship. and ofc…big dicc jungkook cause UGH.

word count: 5.2k

a/n: hi! ok so. this is my very first fic i’m posting and i’m actually kind of losing my mind about it?? originally it was supposed to be two parts (pt.1 soft, pt.2 smut) but i got carried away and ended up writing it all in one go because i wouldn’t shut up abt this two!!

*banners/dividers credits to the owners ♡ ྀི

thank you for reading!! leave your comments on what u think of my first fic 🥺! 🤍 - Sher

requests are officially opened!

The classroom always smelled like old air and pen inks, a familiar background hum to every forgettable weekday morning.

You sat at the back, as always, where you could stretch your legs, twirl your pen, and zone out without anyone bothering you. People knew you, too well.

Not because you tried, but because the world couldn’t help but notice the girl who always seemed a little untouchable.

Then the teacher changed the seating plan.

“Jeon Jungkook. You’re moving to the back, beside her.”

A ripple of murmurs went through the class, subtle but present. You could feel the stares. You looked up just in time to see him glance nervously your way before lowering his eyes and walking toward the seat beside you.

Jungkook. Everyone knew who he was, even if he rarely spoke. Top of the class. Never late. Always dressed clean, minimal, quiet. You didn’t expect anything from him. Didn’t need another nerdy guy going stiff just because you shared a desk.

But that day, he surprised you.

He sat down carefully, barely making a sound, and opened his book. No fidgeting. No glances. Just… stillness. Until you heard the smallest breath of a murmur.

“Chapter’s interesting,” he said, eyes still on the page.

You blinked.

“What?”

He didn’t flinch. “The reading. It’s good. Surprising, kind of.”

You studied him, confused. He hadn’t even looked at you. It was like he wasn’t trying to talk to you—just thinking aloud, and you happened to hear.

You didn’t answer.

But your curiosity flickered.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days, he didn’t speak again. But he was always on time. Always with his notebook perfectly aligned. Always glancing at your desk when he thought you weren’t looking—quick, nervous flicks of his eyes.

Then came the Wednesday.

You’d forgotten your pens, bag full of it. Not on purpose—just one of those mornings where you left everything behind. You muttered something under your breath, frustrated, and slammed your bag down.

Before you could think to dig through your things again, a sleek black pen rolled across your desk.

You turned. Jungkook was still facing forward, penless himself now.

“You sure?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded once. “I have another.”

You waited for a smile. A joke. Some kind of flirtation.

Nothing.

Just a calm silence.

It threw you off more than someone asking for your number ever could.

Then came the Thursday rainstorm.

You stayed behind after class, waiting for it to ease, stuck at the school’s entrance while thunder rumbled in the distance. Everyone else had already left, except for him.

He walked up beside you without a word, holding an umbrella. For a second, you thought he was going to walk past.

He hesitated.

“You live near East Gate, right?” he asked, voice low, eyes on the rain.

You narrowed your eyes. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you leave that way. Every day.”

You didn’t answer.

He tilted the umbrella slightly toward you. “Come on.”

You stared at him like he’d grown two heads. But you followed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

That walk changed everything.

He didn’t try to impress you. Didn’t pry. Just walked beside you, holding the umbrella with quiet precision to make sure it covered you both.

When you reached your turn, you stopped.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He paused. Looked at you for the first time, really looked—eyes soft behind his wet fringe.

“Because you look like no one ever asks how you’re doing,” he said. “And i kind of want to.”

You stood frozen as he walked away, raindrops hitting your shoulders after the umbrella disappeared with him down the path.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

From then on, he became your quiet shadow.

Always beside you in class. Always one step behind in the hallway. But not in a clingy way. He respected your space but showed up when it mattered.

One morning, you came in late, eyes puffy from a night you didn’t want to talk about. You slumped into your chair, hoodie up, bare faced (that rarely happens whenever you go to class) sleeves tugged over your hands.

He didn’t say anything.

But when you finally looked at your desk, there was a folded note, written in perfect; clean handwriting.

“It’s okay to have days like this. You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes. I’ve got notes if you need them.”

You folded the paper slowly. Pressed your lips together. And something inside you melted.

You weren’t used to being seen like that.

You weren’t used to someone not asking for anything in return.

That day, you turned to him and whispered, “Thanks.” giving him a small smile.

He looked up, startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to respond.

And smiled, unsure, but real.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You think to yourself, you might fell for him. Maybe. Which is a weird feeling to you.

Given that you both barely have a proper (real) conversation.

Well you did exchange numbers—that’s because you both somehow were assigned to work together, so Jungkook thought it would be better to interact outside of class.

For study purpose of course.

Eventually both of you did text one another—occasionally. Just short texts nothing conversation worthy.

Yeah, you felt this weird butterflies.

But, you didn’t fall all at once.

It happened slowly. Over study sessions you didn’t consider were study sessions, coffee walks that became routines, quiet texts late at night when he’d ask, “Did you eat today?” and not stop asking until you said yes.

Over the time, during study sessions, you found yourself laughing around him. Trusting him.

Letting your guard down without realizing it had dropped.

One night, you asked through text, in your bed, loneliness crept again, “You know i’m kind of… a mess, right?”

He replied few seconds too fast.

“I know,” he said. “But you’re the kind of mess that makes sense to me.”

And you fell.

Quietly. Completely.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You weren’t sure when the lines blurred—when study sessions became excuses to sit a little closer, when shared coffee turned into shared glances, when “see you tomorrow” carried the weight of don’t forget me.

Jungkook didn’t rush anything. He never did.

But one Friday, something shifted.

He caught up with you after class, his hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up, headphones around his neck, looking nervous in a way that made your heart weirdly ache.

“Hey,” he said, walking beside you. “There’s this exhibition at the design building… the one with digital installations. I thought—maybe you’d like it.”

You turned to look at him. “You inviting me?”

He nodded, looking at the floor. “If you want. No pressure. It’s tomorrow.”

You almost teased him. Almost said something sarcastic just to keep things from feeling too serious. But something in the way he looked—open, nervous, sincere—made you soften.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d like that.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The exhibition was small. Quiet. Dreamy.

Digital light shifted across the walls like watercolor in motion. Projected clouds drifted across the floor.

Every room had its own ambient sound—soft, electronic music and echoing whispers. It should’ve felt awkward, being alone together in that hush.

But with him, it didn’t.

You stood in one of the installations surrounded by cascading lines of digital rain, blue and silver glowing all around and he looked at you like he wanted to remember the moment.

“I like this,” you said quietly.

He glanced at the ceiling, then back at you. “Me too.”

A beat passed.

“Honestly… i didn’t know if you’d say yes,” he admitted. “To coming here.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

He looked at you. “Because i’m not like the other people you talk to.”

“You mean the loud ones? I don’t talk to just anyone, anymore. Besides, didn’t we spend a good amount of time together for the past month to be considered as…friends?”

He smiled, barely. “Yeah. The ones who know what to say. And yeah i knew that but still, i thought it was just a study session, coffee catch ups with you—that you’d rather spend your time with your other…friends.”

You shifted your weight. “Maybe i got tired of people who always know what to say and FYI—i’d rather spend my time with you.”

Silence.

Just the sound of soft electronic rainfall.

Then he said it—so low you almost missed it:

“I really like being around you.”

You turned to him, heart suddenly too loud in your chest.

He’s so dreamy, handsome.

“I really like being around you too.”

And he looked at you like you’d just said the one thing he’d been waiting to hear.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your first kiss wasn’t at the exhibition.

That night had already held enough. The way he kept sneaking glances at you while pretending to read the plaque beside a sculpture, the way his hand hovered close to yours but never quite touched.

You walked the whole gallery like that, quiet but full of something neither of you wanted to name yet.

Later, he offered to walk you home. You said yes.

The air was cold but not bitter, the city dim and quiet in that in-between hour.

Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, your breath blooming white in the air. He kept his hands in his coat pockets, close but not brushing yours.

“Did you like the exhibit?” he asked, his voice low and a little shy.

“I did,” you said. “But i think i liked walking around with you more.”

He turned his head slightly, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “It was… nice. I don’t usually do things like that. With people.”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then “You mean dates?”

You blinked. “Was this a date?”

His voice went even softer. “I wanted it to be.”

You stopped walking. Your apartment was just ahead, but you didn’t want to go in yet. The moment felt full.

Suspended.

He looked at you, eyes searching. “Can I be honest?”

You tilted your head. “Aren’t you always?” you giggled.

He smiled faintly. “I think about you a lot more than i should.”

You swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means i’ve liked you for a while. Even before you started talking to me.”

“You’re not exactly… forward, you know.”

“I didn’t think i was your type.”

“You’re not,” you said simply. “At least, not what i thought my type was.”

His expression didn’t change much, but you saw the flicker of hope behind his eyes.

You glanced down at your keys, twisting them between your fingers. “You’ve been patient with me.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “But sometimes i think… i just want to know if i’m the only one feeling this.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

His scarf was wrapped high, almost to his mouth. His cheeks were pink from the cold, eyes warm, uncertain, but wide open.

He wasn’t trying to be smooth. He wasn’t trying to win. He was just there, telling you the truth.

Then slowly and tentatively, he stepped closer, his breath shallow.

His voice barely carried “Can I kiss you?”

You felt everything in you pause.

And then “Yeah,” you said softly, heart pounding.

“Yeah, you can.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. He leaned in, hand rising to your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, slow, careful.

He was learning something sacred; he didn’t want to rush what he’d waited so long to feel.

When he pulled back, your lips still tingled from the warmth of him, your chest full and fluttering.

You smiled, breath curling in the air. “You always this careful?”

His voice was low, but sure. “Only when it’s important.”

And you knew, right then, it was.

You didn’t talk much after that kiss.

Not because it was awkward. Because it wasn’t. It was the kind of silence that wrapped itself around you like a blanket. Soft, steady, enough.

He waited for you to open the door. Didn’t push. Just gave you that small smile, the one he only ever gave you and said, “Text me when you’re inside.”

You nodded, stepped in, and closed the door.

Then leaned your forehead against it.

You were in trouble.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days were different in all the ways that mattered.

You still sat beside each other in class. Still studied together in the library. But now there were new things. A small, subtle shifts.

His knee brushed against yours and didn’t move. He’d lean in when he spoke, voice softer. You’d catch him looking at you, and this time, you didn’t look away.

You weren’t used to this version of yourself; unguarded. And Jungkook, for all his quietness, seemed to understand that.

He never rushed you. Never asked “what are we?” or “where is this going?”

He just stayed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

It wasn’t planned.

The day had been normal. Classes, campus noise, another group project that had you rolling your eyes while Jungkook just quietly took notes. He always took notes, even when no one else cared. You liked that about him. You’d never told him.

You were both walking back from campus, the sky soft with evening gray, when it started to drizzle.

Jungkook held his bag over your head.

You laughed. “You know i’m not gonna melt, right?”

He just looked down at you. “You’re still cold when it rains. You get quiet.”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because he was right. You did get quiet.

And he noticed.

By the time you reached your apartment, your hair was damp, and your mood had shifted. You weren’t sad—just heavy.

One of those days. You didn’t say much as you opened the door and let him in.

Jungkook toed off his shoes carefully, still holding that nervous energy he always carried when he was in your space. You dropped your keys in the bowl by the door and stood in the kitchen, hands on the counter.

“Want tea?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

The silence between you was soft. Not tense. Just full of all the things you weren’t ready to say out loud. You made tea. He sat at the table. You sat across from him, knees brushing under the wood.

Then, out of nowhere, you said it.

“I don’t let people in.”

He looked up, startled. You weren’t looking at him—just staring into your mug.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you continued. “It’s easier when no one expects anything.”

A long pause. Then:

“I never expected anything,” he said.

You finally looked at him. He looked… calm. A little sad. But calm.

“I just liked being around you.”

You nodded slowly. “You still do?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Even more now.”

The air between you shifted. Slowed. Deepened.

And you whispered, “Stay tonight?”

He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t assume.

He just said, “Okay.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You sat on the floor of your bedroom while he changed into the extra clothes you gave him. A quiet hum played from the speaker, barely audible.

When he stepped back into the room; barefoot, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes soft, you suddenly felt that aching fear again.

What if you messed this up?

What if it didn’t last?

And then he crossed the room and knelt in front of you.

His hand rested gently on your knee. “You don’t have to be anything for me,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to perform. Or smile. Or fix anything.”

You looked down at your lap, fighting the warmth in your throat.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted.

“I’ll wait while you figure it out,” he said.

Just like that.

No grand declaration. No demand. Just steady, honest patience.

You reached for his hand.

Held it.

And when you finally crawled into bed beside him, there was no space left between you. You pressed your back to his chest, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist. His breath tickled your shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

And you meant it.

You woke to the quiet shift of fabric. The soft sound of him sitting up beside you.

Morning light filtered through the curtains in a pale blur. Your back was still warm from where his arm had rested. You blinked slowly, your mind caught between dreams and now.

Jungkook was already awake, hoodie wrinkled, hair messy from sleep.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

He looked like he was thinking too loud.

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “Hey,” you said, voice scratchy.

He turned to you immediately, like he’d been waiting. “Hey,” he echoed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. Then let out a quiet breath, like he wasn’t sure how to start.

“Can I ask you something?” he said softly.

You stilled, heart already beginning to tap faster in your chest. “Yeah.”

He looked down at his hands, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve.

“I don’t want to ruin anything. I’m not trying to pressure you,” he started, voice careful. “But… what are we?”

You didn’t answer right away.

His eyes lifted. “I just…last night meant something to me. You mean something to me. And i know you don’t let people in easily. So i don’t want to assume anything, but i also don’t want to keep pretending this is just… nothing.”

You watched him for a moment, your throat tight.

“I didn’t think you’d ask,” you murmured.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re usually the quiet one. The patient one.”

“I still am,” he said. “But being patient doesn’t mean I’m not feeling things too.”

You swallowed, fingers tugging at the edge of the blanket. “I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to explain what i feel when i’m with you. It’s new. And a little scary.”

He nodded slowly. “Same.”

You looked at him. “But I don’t want it to be nothing either.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

You nodded, quieter this time. “Yeah.”

He shifted closer, his knee bumping gently against yours. “Then maybe… we don’t have to label it yet. But I just needed to know i wasn’t alone in it.”

“You’re not,” you said.

You meant it.

Jungkook exhaled a breath he’d been holding. Then reached out, tentative at first and he curls his fingers around yours.

“Okay,” he said, voice warm now. “Then i’m yours. However long it takes.”

You smiled, eyes stinging just a little. “You’re really not what i expected.”

He grinned—finally, fully. “I get that a lot.”

And in the quiet that followed, your fingers remained laced with his. Simple. Certain.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to run.

It had been a month.

One month since Jungkook had leaned across your front step and kissed you like it mattered. Since he’d touched your face like he was afraid you’d vanish if he blinked too fast.

And somehow, things still felt new. Still soft. Still unreal in moments like now, with him sprawled across your bed in a hoodie, reading on his stomach, feet swaying behind him like a kid.

You were half-working on an assignment, half-watching him.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“I’m admiring,” you corrected.

He turned his head just enough to catch your smirk, then gave a small smile. “Baby,” he said under his breath, “you’re distracting.”

“You like it,” you replied, nudging his leg with your foot.

He hummed. “I do.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your relationship had grown into something… daily. Quiet rituals that made your chest ache. He’d walk you to class with your fingers looped in his sleeve. He’d wait for you outside the library, sipping iced coffee and reading the latest novel you lent him. You started wearing his hoodies without asking. He stopped looking surprised when you kissed his cheek mid-sentence.

But even with the sweetness, there was still something unspoken hanging between you.

Something warmer. Heavier.

Like tonight.

He was still lying on your bed when you finally gave up pretending to work and climbed over him, plopping yourself beside his back with a sigh.

He closed his book and peeked at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You’re just comfy.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You say that every time you use me as a pillow.”

“Because it’s true, baby.”

You shifted, laying your head against his back. Your palm flattened over his spine.

Jungkook went still for a second—then melted.

“Do you…” you hesitated, unsure why your throat suddenly felt tight, “do you ever want to do more than just lie here?”

He was silent for a moment.

Then, softly: “Yeah. I do.”

You sat up a little, just enough to look at him.

His cheeks were already flushed.

“I just never know if you’re comfortable,” intertwining your fingers together.

“Or if you want to. I’ve never really… gotten this far before.” he added.

You blinked. “You haven’t?”

He shook his head. “I’ve dated a few, but it never got serious. And no one ever really looked at me like you do.”

That last part made your chest squeeze.

“You mean like you hung the stars?” you teased gently.

He smiled, eyes shy. “Kind of, yeah.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You’re not the only nervous one, baby.”

“I’m not?”

You shook your head. “I’ve been with my fair share of…flings? boyfriends?, whatever you wanna call it—but it never felt right nor did it worked out, obviously. It always felt like they expected something from me. You don’t.”

Jungkook shifted, sitting up properly now. You were both facing each other, legs crossed.

“Can I ask you something?” he said quietly.

You nodded.

His voice was careful. “If we… wanted to try something. Anything. Would you tell me if you weren’t ready?”

“Always,” you promised.

He reached forward, brushing a thumb against your cheek. “Okay.”

You leaned into his palm.

And after a beat, you whispered, “Would you kiss me now?”

His lips twitched. “I’d give you anything you want.”

When he kissed you—slow and warm, one hand still cupping your jaw—it felt like everything in the world slowed down. Like it was just you and him, tangled in hush and trust.

You shifted closer, your hand slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie, resting just above his waistband. You felt him freeze, just slightly.

“Too much?” you whispered.

“No,” he breathed. “Just new.”

You smiled into the kiss. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Promise?” he breathes into the kiss.

“Promise.”

And when he pulled you fully into his lap, burying his face in your neck with a soft laugh, it felt like something more than new.

It happened on a night that didn’t feel special; no candles, no dramatic music, just the two of you in your room after dinner, legs tangled on your bed, warm with laughter and full from pasta Jungkook had insisted on cooking himself.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and one of your oversized shirts, sleeves pushed up, his hair messily falling across his forehead.

You had just pulled him down for a kiss. Playful, slow.

But then it lingered. Deepened.

And something shifted.

His tongue slipped against yours, deliberate. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer like he couldn’t help himself anymore.

When you whimpered against his lips, he pulled back slightly, gaze heavy-lidded.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting you to kiss me like that.”

He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Like what?”

“Like you’ve been waiting to.”

“I have been,” he murmured. “For so fucking long.”

Your chest tightened, breath caught in your throat.

“We’ve kissed many, many times before?,” you giggled.

And then his lips was on yours again, more desperate this time. No teasing. No question.

Jungkook leaned over you, pressing you into the mattress, his body slotting between your thighs like it was instinct.

You felt how hard he was through the thin fabric of your shorts. He wasn’t trying to hide it. He wanted you to feel it.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, tugging at his shirt. “Please.”

He sat back just enough to yank it over his head, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “You sure?”

“Baby,” you said, reaching for him again, “I’ve never been more sure.”

Something in his expression cracked open at that—relief, hunger, something fierce and protective all at once.

“Then let me have you,” he said, voice dark, breath ragged. “Let me fuck you like you deserve.”

The way he said it; need dripping into every syllable made your whole body shudder.

He tugged your shorts down fast, your panties going with them. When you gasped, he kissed the inside of your thigh, then hovered over you again, his cock straining visibly in his sweats.

“God,” he whispered, eyes raking over you. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. Laid out for me.”

Your hands reached for him, desperate. “I want you, Jungkook. I don’t wanna wait.”

“You won’t,” he said, voice curling around you like silk and smoke.

He shoved his pants down just enough to free himself, stroking himself slowly as he stared at you.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he murmured. “No idea how long i’ve wanted to be inside you.”

You reached between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

His mouth dropped open slightly. “Fuck.”

He lined himself up, eyes locked on yours. “Tell me if i go too fast, okay?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That did something to him.

He pushed in slow, deep, all at once.

Your breath hitched, legs trembling.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook groaned, head falling to your shoulder. “You feel like heaven. So wet for me already.”

You clung to him, nails dragging lightly down his back.

“Move,” you gasped. “I need you.”

He obeyed without hesitation—pulling back, then slamming into you again with a rhythm that made your head spin.

It was hard and deep. Not rushed, but intentional. Like he knew exactly how to tear you apart and put you back together.

“Baby,” he breathed, panting against your throat, “you’re taking me so well.”

You moaned, legs tightening around him.

“You always this tight, or is it just for me?”

“Only you,” you choked out, voice cracking. “Only ever been like this for you.”

That made him growl.

“You feel perfect. Like you’re made for me.”

Every thrust dragged a whimper from your lips. Every kiss to your neck made you melt further under him.

You could feel how careful he was, even in the roughness. Like he wanted you to feel claimed, but not hurt. Never that.

“You like when i talk like this?” he asked, voice low in your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Jungkook.”

“You make me lose my mind, princess. Got me thinking about you all day. Couldn’t wait to fuck you full of my come inside.”

Your back arched, nails digging into his shoulders.

He shifted his hips, angling deeper. “You gonna come for me like this? Gonna come on my cock hm?”

You nodded desperately, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “Yes….don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he whispered.

You did.

And in the silence that followed, he slowed down, but pressed in deep and stayed there.

His body trembled above yours, like he was holding something back—not just his release, but something heavier.

You cupped his cheek gently. “Jungkook?”

His voice broke.

“I love you,” he whispered—then again, faster, almost panicked. “I love you so much it’s scaring me.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide.

“I—” His throat worked as he swallowed, his brows drawn tight with emotion. “I never thought i’d have this. You. i never thought someone like you would ever even look at me.”

“Jungkook—”

“I used to watch you,” he continued, voice cracking. “In class. You were always so confident. So distant. But then you sat next to me—God, i still remember the way you looked that day. I thought it was a joke. Like there’s no way you would sit beside me.”

Your chest ached. He kept going.

“But you did. You stayed. You talked to me. You let me see pieces of you no one else gets to. And i still don’t know why. I still think maybe you’ll wake up and realize you could do better and just… leave.”

You shook your head, eyes stinging.

“But you don’t,” he whispered. “You stay. You’re patient with me when i get quiet. When i don’t know what to say. You still kiss me like i matter.”

His voice dropped lower, barely a breath.

“I don’t know what i did to deserve you. But fuck—i’m so glad you exist. I’m so glad you sat next to me.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He saw the silence as hesitation, and something in his face crumpled.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, pulling back just slightly. “You don’t have to say it back. I just—i needed you to know. Even if i’m not what you expected. Even if I’m not enough.”

And that’s when it hit you.

This boy—this quiet, brilliant, soft-hearted boy had been holding it in for months.

You surged up and kissed him.

Not soft. Not gentle.

You kissed him like you were giving him an answer.

He gasped against your lips when you pulled away.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Are you kidding? You’re everything.”

He blinked, stunned.

“I didn’t say it sooner because i was scared i’d ruin this,” you said. “But Jungkook… you are everything i could ever ask for.”

He let out a shaky breath—half a laugh, half a sob—and kissed you again, deeper this time. Needy. Grateful.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The way he was moving inside you, or the way he was looking at you.

Like you were a miracle.

Like you were something he’d never believed he could have.

Every thrust was deep, steady, but trembling with emotion. He was holding on for dear life. His forehead pressed to yours, sweat on his brow, his breath hot and uneven.

“God,” Jungkook groaned, voice raw, “you feel so good, too good.”

You cupped his face again, thumbs brushing over his flushed cheeks. “You can let go. i’ve got you.”

But he didn’t. Not yet.

“I don’t want this to end,” he whispered. “I don’t want us to end.”

“We won’t,” you said softly. “I’m right here.”

He choked on a breath, hips stuttering. “I’ve never… never loved anyone like this.”

You nodded, tears welling. “Me either.”

And still, he didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t; not when your body clung to his like a prayer, not when your nails curled against his back, not when your lips parted with little gasps that sounded like his name.

“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “I want you to come inside. Cmon baby.”

His pace faltered—sharper, desperate. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he breathed. “Can’t believe it’s you.”

Then, with a deep groan against your neck, he finally gave in—shuddering in your arms, body tensing, spilling into you like it was all too much and not enough at once.

You held him through it.

Through the tremble in his limbs.

Through the whispered “I love you” that followed on the heels release. Ropes of come dripping out as he pulls out slowly then inside again. You moaned at the sensation.

He didn’t move for a while—just stayed there, inside you, wrapped around you, like he couldn’t stand to lose the warmth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to hold on so tight.”

He nuzzled into your shoulder. “I want to, though.”

“I know,” you smiled. “Me too.”

Eventually, he shifted, settling beside you, your bodies still tangled beneath the blankets.

The silence was heavy but comforting. No more fear. No more holding back.

Just breathing. Together.

You turned to look at him, and he was already watching you.

“What?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He traced your jaw with his thumb, eyes soft.

“Out of everyone in this whole world… somehow, it was you.”

Your chest ached.

You kissed him, slow and deep and sure.

And thought, yeah.

Somehow, it was him too.

Bad Decisions

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: biker au, secret relationship, pfp filth

summary: by day, jeongguk is the youngest heir of the noble seven—untouchable, lethal, and born into power. by night, he’s the ghost on a matte black Husqvarna, tearing through city streets with recklessness only royalty can afford. but there’s one thing he can’t control: you. the girl he’s been sneaking around with in stolen hours and secret places. when a high stakes race throws you back into his path, a charged game of cat and mouse ignites—your biting words matched only by the heat in his stare.

later that night, you find yourself exactly where you swore you shouldn’t be—underneath him, breathless and begging for more. but what starts as a heady, sweat slicked surrender spirals into something neither of you expect. in the quiet between moans and the hush that follows release, something shifts. words are whispered that neither of you can take back.

warnings: motorcycle racing jeongguk, role playing? you act like strangers in public, light bdsm, bondage, blindfold, cumming lots of cumming, breeding kink? jeongguk loves filling you up (wrap it up kids), boob job, jeongguk calls you princess 🫠 (i’m weak for it SUE ME), anal sex, soft dom weak for his princess jeongguk, fingering, they’re just a freaky ass couple who’re obsessed with each other

word count: 5,903

Introducing: The Consequences

The first time you see Jeongguk is at a street race near the east side of town, where the Reapers’ territory bleeds into the Titans’ stretch of concrete

Neutral ground. Or at least, that’s what everyone pretends it is.

It’s not the best place to be after dark—but not the worst either. That’s the thing about the city. Whether you’re in a luxury high rise or posted on the block, you keep your head on a swivel. No exceptions.

Jeongguk rolls in on a black and chrome Kawasaki Ninja H2 Carbon, the engine purring like a predator with too much money and nowhere to be. The bike looks custom, vicious. So does he. His black leather jacket clings to his frame like it was stitched directly onto his body. One you’ve heard about in rumors passed between girls with loose lips and tighter jeans.

Flanking him are the rest of the Noble Seven. Heirs of the seven families who run the country from behind velvet curtains and bloodstained ledgers.

“My god,” Keira breathes, her voice low and reverent. “It’s like the universe said, ‘Hmm, what would sex on legs look like?’ and dropped them here just to fuck with us.”

You laugh. It’s such a Keira thing to say.

But she’s not wrong.

“Hey.” Pierce’s voice cuts through your amusement like a whip, authoritative. You and Keira both stiffen as he approaches, already pulling his helmet on. “Don’t go far. And don’t talk to anyone.”

You fake a gag, just in time to catch him yanking Keira toward him by the belt loop of her jeans.

“Good luck kiss?” he grins at her. You roll your eyes and tune them out, shifting your attention back to the growing crowd of riders and onlookers. It’s the first night out you’ve had in weeks.

The shop’s been busier than ever with the warm weather—more cash in your pockets, sure, but less time to enjoy it.

A cold rush skims up your spine.

Someone’s watching you.

You scan the crowd from beneath your lashes, discreet but alert. You’re not in the mood for a fight tonight.

Your breath falters in your chest when you find the source.

Jeongguk’s gaze locks with yours; dark, curious, and far too direct for comfort. His eyes glitter like onyx under the flickering neon lights. He says something low to the man beside him without breaking eye contact. Park Jimin follows his line of sight and smirks, slow and dangerous.

Nope.

You whip your head away.

Pierce said don’t talk to anyone. You’re pretty sure that includes body language.

“Come on,” Keira says, tugging your arm. “Let’s grab drinks and find seats before the race starts. You should flirt with Baekhyun—he’ll let us watch the drone footage.”

“We can just stream it on our phones,” you grumble, trying not to trip as she drags you along “And Baekhyun’s like a brother. That’s weird.”

“Ugh. Everyone is like a brother to you. When are you gonna stop friend zoning dick and swallow some?”

“Hyunwoo wasn’t like a brother.”

Keira side eyes you, tongue sliding over her teeth. “No…no he was not.” You both dissolve into giggles as you join the line at concessions.

—

The second time you see Jeongguk, it’s through the grainy feed of Baekhyun’s drone—high above the treacherous backroads of Howlers Mountain, where one wrong move means a broken body or worse.

You’re sitting on the roof of the camper, knees pulled to your chest, drink sweating in your hand. Keira’s next to you, vibrating with adrenaline.

“Who the hell takes a curve at that angle?” she yells, nearly spilling tequila down your jeans.

“Apparently, Jeon fucking Jeongguk,” Baekhyun mutters from his monitor below.

The camera pans to a blur of black gear, tires screaming around a cliffside, the rider leaning in like he’s bulletproof. Your breath catches as gravel spits from his rear tire—he’s inches from the edge.

You hate how your chest clenches.

Hate more the thrill that curls in your belly.

He’s reckless.

Stupid.

Beautiful.

And completely in control.

“He’s okay,” you say quickly, pointing at the screen as the rider regains balance. “He’s okay.”

Your own cocktail sloshes over the rim of your cup, ice rattling.

“Keep it down, ladies,” Baekhyun mutters from behind his controller. “I’m working.”

“Sorry, Bacon!” you and Keira chorus, teasing him in sync. He groans like he regrets inviting you, which only makes you laugh harder.

Your attention drifts back to the sleek shadow slicing through the mountain pass—black bike, black gear. Jeongguk.

“Let’s go, silver surfer!” Keira yells as Pierce takes the lead, cutting past Jeongguk in a clean maneuver.

You glance at the route map—tight turn coming up. That’s usually where the race is won or lost.

Pierce surges ahead, dressed in head to toe white like a declaration of war. It’s too on the nose. Too symbolic. But your brother loves a metaphor.

Your heart skips when another rider, Marcus, skids out, bike sliding across the asphalt with a sharp screech. He tumbles, helmet shattering as the other riders swerve to avoid him.

“Fuck, that was close,” Baekhyun breathes.

You’re already out the door, feet pounding the steps of the camper, Keira hot on your heels as the thunder of engines rushes toward the finish line.

Jeongguk crosses first.

Pierce is a breath behind him.

The crowd goes feral.

Jeongguk revs his engine, slowing just enough to pull up directly in front of you. The way he swings off the bike is criminal—helmet in one hand, jacket clinging to his chest like a second skin. His eyes rake up your body: chunky heels, cargos, crop top. He doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about your chest.

“Now this is a first place trophy,” he says over his shoulder to Jimin, who’s lounging nearby with his helmet under his arm.

You scoff. Loudly.

“Even if winners did get trophies, it definitely wouldn’t be me.”

Keira tugs your sleeve, whispering not to antagonize a member of the Noble Seven. You couldn’t care less. Arrogance doesn’t look good on anyone—even if he wears it well.

Jeongguk laughs, the sound warm and rich, but edged with something colder.

He plants his helmet on the seat, closing the distance between you in two strides. His frame is massive up close, all sculpted muscle and quiet dominance.

He smells like leather and bergamot, and the scent wraps around your senses before you can brace against it.

“And what kind of winner do I have to be,” he murmurs, “to win you?”

His voice curls around your spine like a promise or a threat. Maybe both.

You meet his gaze evenly, only your lip caught between your teeth betraying the flutter in your chest. You lean in, just enough that your breath ghosts over his lips. You hear him inhale.

Good.

Two can play this game.

“I’m not won, Jeon,” you whisper, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m earned.”

Then you step back, grab Keira’s hand, and vanish into the crowd.

His laughter follows you like smoke.

“I know you’ve heard the rumors,” he calls after you. “That I don’t like to lose.”

You pause but don’t turn. You don’t have to.

“I’ll admit it. I’m a bit of a sore loser.”

His tone shifts—silken, dangerous.

“Just know whatever they told you about me? Lies,” he says, the crowd swallowing him in a sea of noise and flashing lights. “I’m much worse.”

Your skin prickles. Your breath catches.

You keep walking.

Hopefully, your little show doesn’t bite you in the ass later.

“Damn,” Keira whistles beside you. “He’s definitely not like a brother.”

You squeeze her hand tighter. “Is he still looking?”

“He’s doing more than looking, sister friend.”

— — — — —

The door slams shut behind you.

In an instant, Jeongguk has you pinned—his palm wrapped around your throat, pressing you flat to the wood like he owns you. His other hand works between your thighs, fingers curling deep inside your dripping pussy with unrelenting rhythm.

Your legs tremble as your slick soaks through ruined lace. His knee knocks yours apart, kicking your cargos across the hallway.

“You said I have to earn you, huh, princess?”

Words escape you. Your tongue feels swollen and useless, lolling helplessly against your lips as your mouth parts in silent cries.

His fingers find your g-spot, hook into it like he’s done this a thousand times, and your body convulses. The edge of your orgasm looms, sharp and sudden, white-hot pressure blooming behind your eyes.

“Answer me.” His voice is a growl against your ear, his body the only thing keeping you upright.

“J-Jeongguk—I’m gonna—please—”

His fingers don’t relent. If anything, they move faster. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the air, each wet squelch making your cheeks flush. You clench desperately around his hand, right there on the edge—

Then nothing.

He pulls out.

Your orgasm evaporates into a scream of frustration, your nails dragging down the door. Tears spring to your eyes as the emptiness between your legs throbs violently.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

Jeongguk lifts his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, moaning shamelessly as he licks them clean. His hand tightens around your throat, thumb stroking the column of your neck as he forces you to watch.

“Did you really think you could get away with saying that shit to me?” His voice is low, deadly, nearly amused.

You shake your head, lips trembling. He leans in, his lips grazing your ear.

“Use your fucking words. Or I’ll play with this pussy until the sun comes up. Is that what you want?”

“No—no! Please, let me cum, baby—please.”

His lips crash into yours, swallowing your plea. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes your pussy clench in need, your whole body arching for more.

He breaks the kiss with a dark chuckle. “Did you have fun teasing me, princess? Standing there in front of everyone, looking like my own personal goddess? Thinking I wouldn’t make you pay for it?”

“I wasn’t—!” you gasp, but your protest dies on your tongue when his thumb circles your clit, rough and fast.

You writhe, your legs locking around his hips, chasing any sensation that’ll give you what he keeps stealing.

“You’re a horrible fucking liar,” he snarls. He yanks your panties aside and plunges his fingers back into your soaked heat. “Let’s try again. Be a good girl. Tell the truth. Now.”

“Y-Yes—I did, I was teasing,” you gasp, shame and need tangling in your throat. “Gguk, please—!”

“Such a bad girl,” he tsks. “Teasing me in front of Keira, in front of your brother? It’d be wrong of me to bend you over my bike and fuck the attitude out of you, wouldn’t it?”

You moan, head rolling back as his fingers fuck you ruthlessly. You’re so close it feels like dying.

“Gguk…”

“What? You wanna cum?” he mocks, voice syrupy with false sympathy. “My baby wants me to let her cum?”

You nod frantically, lips parted, mind unraveling.

He grins.

And then he wrecks you.

His thumb finds your clit again, and the combination sends lightning through your veins. Your orgasm builds like a storm surge, fast and furious, until it’s the only thing you can feel.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “I’ll make you cum, princess. And then I’ll keep going—until you remember who you belong to.”

When it hits, it devastates you.

You scream his name as your orgasm slams through your body, collapsing every muscle with it. Your vision whites out, your walls fluttering around his fingers, spasming again and again as tears pour down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it—past it—ruthless, merciless. His hand tightens around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to make your lungs burn, and the overstimulation mutates into a new kind of hunger.

“You’re so sexy like this,” he growls against your cheek, “looking all innocent in front of Keira and your brother. But we both know better, don’t we, pretty girl?”

“Jeongguk—!”

“You love it.” His voice is hoarse with desire. “Getting all stupid on my fingers, going cock drunk before I even fuck you. I should make you cum again just like this.”

You claw at him, your thighs trembling as you try to pull away, but he catches your waist and holds you still.

“Fuck, baby—you want me to cum in my pants?” he groans, rutting into your thigh. “Shit, you’re dripping down my wrist.”

“N-No—I—I want you in me,” you whimper.

He inhales sharply, and it’s all over.

He drags you to the living room, drops onto the couch, and pulls you into his lap like he can’t bear to wait another second.

“Can I fuck you now? Please, baby—I need to feel you.” His hands are trembling as he unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, leaking.

You fall to your knees, hungry.

“Need to suck your dick,” you pant, reaching for him.

But Jeongguk grabs your wrists. “Not now,” he growls. “Need you riding me.”

His eyes burn into yours as he tears your panties from your body, lips parted in awe as he stares at your soaked, puffy folds.

“Come here, princess. Sit on my cock.”

You straddle him, guiding the thick head of his dick to your entrance. You both gasp when he slips in, walls stretching to accommodate him.

“So wet… ‘m gonna cum just from you sitting on me.”

You whimper as you sink down, inch by inch, until he’s seated fully inside you.

“F-fuck,” he hisses. “Love your pussy, princess.”

He cups your breasts, pulling your bandeau down with a groan. Your nipples are hard, begging to be tasted. He wraps his mouth around one, tongue flicking while his other hand kneads the other breast.

You ride him slowly, grinding your hips in lazy circles that drive him mad.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, switching to the other nipple, suckling greedily. “Wanna live right here forever. Just like this.”

You start to move faster, hips bouncing, skin clapping against skin. His cock hits deep with every drop, the stretch addictive.

“I’m close,” you pant.

“I know, baby—I feel it. Fuck—you’re squeezing me so good.”

He grips your hips and thrusts up into you, punching into your cervix with brutal precision. Your orgasm builds fast and hot.

“Harder!” you beg. “Please, Jeongguk—harder!”

He slams into you, over and over, and suddenly he’s everywhere—his mouth on your tits, his hands bruising your waist, his cock claiming every inch of you.

You scream when you cum again, whole body shaking as you collapse into him, trembling in his arms.

But he’s not done.

He lifts you and flips you onto the couch. “No—please, Gguk, I can’t—”

“You can,” he croons, lining himself up again. “You will.”

He thrusts into your overstimulated cunt and sets a ruthless pace, eyes wild as he watches your eyes roll back.

“So wet, so fucking warm—shit! Gonna fill you up, okay? Gonna fuck you right, princess.”

You cry out, clawing at the cushions, unable to form words anymore. Just please and more and don’t stop on loop.

His rhythm stutters. His face contorts in pleasure. He shoves in deep, holding you down as he empties inside you with a broken groan.

His cum floods your walls, thick and hot, and it makes you moan again, your legs twitching around his waist.

He leans in, kissing your lips softly now. Passionately. Worshipful.

“You’re mine, baby,” he breathes, brushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead. “All mine.”

And in the wreckage of your shared desire, you believe it.

Feel it in your bones.

—

You find yourself in Jeongguk’s bedroom, sprawled across 800 thread count Egyptian cotton. The sheets are cool against your flushed skin, a poor remedy for the heat coursing through you—made worse by the steady chill of the air conditioning he always insists on.

Your vision is cloaked in black silk, blindfolded and vulnerable beneath the weight of his desires. Every creak of the bed frame, every shift in the air feels magnified, your heartbeat pounding in your ears like a warning—or a promise.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head, princess?”

His voice cuts through the silence like velvet over steel, coming from your right. You gasp, your body tightening reflexively around the sound.

A whimper escapes you, helpless and raw. After making you cum on the couch downstairs, Jeongguk had carried you upstairs over his shoulder—his toned ass on display the whole way—then bound your wrists to the bedposts with soft cotton rope.

Now you lie there, spread open, waiting.

“Gguk…”

You strain to hear, to locate him. But there are no footsteps, no shifting weight. Just a vast, mysterious silence.

It used to terrify you, this surrender of control. When Jeongguk first introduced you to the world of blindfolds and bondage, the loss of sight had been a seismic jolt to your nerves. But with time—and with him—you learned to trust. And Jeongguk? He always took care of you.

Your body flinches when something cool and leather trails up your thigh. A heartbeat later, the riding crop slices through the air and lands on your skin with a sharp crack.

“Ahh—”

The sound that spills from your lips is more moan than cry, your body arching in response. You’re trembling, sensitive and aroused, a lit fuse waiting to be touched.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs, his voice brushing your cheek like a phantom kiss. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

You chase the heat of his breath, desperate for a kiss, a graze, anything—but he withholds, as always.

“I was thinking…” You’re panting now, your breath catching in your throat. “Thinking about you… and this.”

Even now, you’re bashful—unable to shake the taboo feeling, even with how deeply you’ve fallen into his world. Kinks, bondage, the blurred lines of pleasure and pain. You crave them, but speaking them aloud still feels like standing naked before a crowd.

He hums low in his throat. The riding crop returns, this time ghosting over your chest. Your nipples stiffen instantly, and you jolt when he flicks them with the tip.

“Do you want to stop?”

His tone changes—no more teasing or dominance, only calm and care. Sincere. He always checks in. Always offers an out.

This is about trust first. Pleasure second. Always.

You shake your head vigorously, the blindfold shifting slightly with the motion. “No. Please… don’t stop.”

Another sharp crack. You jolt, the pleasure bursting through you like sparks.

“Then use your words, princess. Why am I repeating myself so much tonight?”

You cry out again when the crop strikes your swollen clit, sticky with need. Strings of your arousal stretch and snap with every motion.

“N-No. Please, please don’t stop.”

He blows lightly against your exposed cunt, the breeze making you squirm.

“Maybe I should tease you until sunrise. You’ve had your fun, haven’t you? Now it’s my turn.”

“Gguk… please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for—release or denial, more pain or mercy. All of it. None of it. Just him.

“Always begging. Always wanting. What about me, princess?”

You’d give him anything if he asked. The moon. Your soul. His name, carved into your skin.

The bed dips near your legs. Jeongguk straddles you, his thighs bracketing your own. His heat is molten, almost unbearable. You feel him shift again near your head, then—

A hot, wet tongue swipes across your nipple.

You choke on a gasp. Your body, already oversensitive from the teasing, lights up like a live wire. He sucks and bites, lavishing attention on your breasts until you’re nothing but tremors and whimpers.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he groans, voice strained.

He sits up, sliding forward until he’s perched just above your ribcage. He presses your breasts together, thumbs circling your aching nipples while one hand reaches back to dip between your thighs.

You cry out at the sensation, hips jerking instinctively. But he doesn’t fuck you. He just strokes your folds, coating his fingers in your slick.

You hear him groan. Then he grabs his cock, stroking himself with a hiss, smearing your arousal over his length.

“Gonna cum all over these pretty tits, okay, princess?”

You feel the weight of him settle on your chest, the head of his cock dragging along your sternum. Your mouth waters. You still haven’t tasted him yet—and he knows it.

“What’s your color?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.”

He begins to move, sliding his cock between your breasts. You tilt your head down to flick your tongue over the tip whenever it emerges from your cleavage.

“Oh fuck, baby. Keep doing that—shit,” he grits out, his rhythm faltering for a moment as your tongue teases him.

Your clit throbs, aching for attention, but even this—just his cock, your tongue, his voice—is enough to have you teetering on the edge.

“Fuck, your tits are so soft. So perfect. Fuck—”

You moan, drunk on the way he uses your body for his pleasure. Drunk on him.

“I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum, princess.”

You whimper, tongue flicking greedily. His grip tightens, his pace quickens, until—

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming—”

He groans deeply, cock jerking as hot ropes of cum spill across your chest, painting your skin in thick streaks. You feel one hand release your tits, fingers dragging through the mess before they press against your lips.

“Open.”

Your mouth falls open instinctively, tongue rolling out to receive the offered gift. He lets the cum drip onto your tongue, then slides his fingers into your mouth.

“What do we say when we get a treat?”

“Thank you,” you mumble, words slurred.

“Now swallow. Show me.”

You obey. His breath catches when you swallow around his fingers and reveal an empty mouth.

“Fuck. Now you want to behave, huh? What happened to the brat from the racetrack?”

You whimper, still aching. Your thighs press together in search of friction—but he notices. Of course he does.

A sharp slap lands on your pussy.

“Thought you could sneak one past me?” he growls. “Pretending to be a good girl? I guess I’ll have to edge the disobedience out of you.”

“Gguk—no, please! Please let me cum—need it so bad,” you sob, pride long since abandoned.

“I said shut up, fucking cumslut.”

He returns like a shadow, one hand wrapped around your throat, a knee wedging between your legs, grinding against your clit.

“Am I not enough for you? Don’t I give you everything you need?” he hisses, the slap of his hand against your soaked folds punctuating every word.

“Yes! Yes, you do! You’re all I need, Jeongguk—please, let me cum, I need to cum!”

He lets go of your throat. You gasp for breath, trembling with desperation.

But he’s already gone again, vanished into the quiet once more—leaving you writhing, needy, and dripping for him.

The ropes fall away from your wrists first, then your ankles, leaving behind a tingling sensation like ghost chains. You barely have a moment to breathe before his voice rumbles low and commanding.

“Turn over.”

You obey, the air cool against your sweat slicked skin as you roll onto your stomach. A firm grip on your wrists draws them behind your back once more—retied, restrained. The plush wedge that’s slid beneath your hips lifts you just so, ass perched high in the air, back arched in offering.

“Gguk, what are we—”

“Did I say you could speak?” His interruption slices through the dark like a blade. You bite down on your lip, choking back the moan that bubbles up your throat. Anticipation skitters down your spine like an electric current. You feel feral for him—need thrumming in every vein, your heart beating out a rhythm your body can’t ignore.

“You want me to fill you up, princess? Need dick that badly, huh?” He’s behind you now, one hand gripping the swell of your ass while the other parts your cheeks, exposing your drenched folds and twitching hole to the cool air.

“Yours,” you pant. “Only want you.”

Jeongguk groans low, pleased and ravenous. He knows what you need before you ask for it. He always does.

“Yeah? My greedy little thing.” His thumb trails through your slick, spreading it up over your tight ring of muscle. “Wanna be stuffed so full you feel me in your throat, huh?”

You shiver, a hot sound escaping as he circles your ass slowly, deliberately. The sensation is thicker than lust—it’s something darker, deeper, something that roots itself in your bones and grows.

“You like that,” he murmurs, voice laced with twisted delight as he watches more slick drip from your pussy. “You’re such a filthy girl for me. My perfect, dirty little princess.”

And then—pressure.

His thumb presses against your rim, slow and unrelenting, until the tight muscle begins to yield. You tense instinctively, hips jerking, but his hand on your back steadies you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby.” He coos it like a lullaby, breath hot against your skin. “You’re doing so well for me. My good girl. Just relax.”

You moan—long, low, and desperate—as the thick digit pushes deeper. The stretch is sharp but thrilling, your walls fluttering from the unfamiliar fullness.

“More?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Please,” you gasp, arching back against his hand like a woman possessed. “More, Gguk.”

“Color?”

“Green,” you cry. “Green, green—I need it, please.”

He hums, dark and approving, and slides his thumb deeper, moving it slowly in and out of your clenching hole. Your cunt throbs around nothing, your body begging to be filled in every way it can.

You hear the slick pop of a lid, then feel warm globs of lube land on your skin in lazy drips. He rubs them in, spreading the slickness around your rim, thumb teasing you open again and again. Your moans are breathy now, unfiltered, as the tight ring of muscle yields to him.

You can’t see him, but you can feel the shift in the air when he starts stroking himself—slow, wet sounds of lube-coated flesh against flesh. Your stomach flips.

The blunt head of his cock nudges your hole.

You tense.

“Gguk? Wh-What are you doing?” Your voice trembles, laced with hesitation.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says simply.

Your name on his lips lands like a weight in your chest—heavy, grounding. He means it. He always means it.

But you don’t want him to stop.

You trust him.

“N-No… don’t stop.”

His cock returns to your ass, head pressing in soft circles against your rim as one hand finds your pussy, fingers rubbing tight, rhythmic circles on your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Just breathe. Let me in, nice and slow. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you whisper, melting into his touch.

The pressure builds, and the head of his cock begins to push inside. It’s a slow burn, foreign and breathtaking, paired with the practiced strokes to your clit. He pushes forward inch by inch, and your body surrenders, clenching and fluttering around the intrusion.

“J-Jeongguk…” you whimper, already so full, so close.

He groans behind you, his voice strangled with restraint. “Fuck, princess… this ass is gonna ruin me.”

He stays still, letting you adjust, fingers never stopping their motion on your clit. Your walls begin to flutter—so close again. Your legs shake.

“‘M close… Gguk, I’m—” Your moan splinters as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, long and rolling, each ripple dragging another cry from your lips.

“Shit,” Jeongguk hisses. He’s not even fully inside and you’re already cumming for him.

Once your body stops shaking, he begins to move—slow, shallow thrusts, coaxing your ass to accept him inch by inch. The stretch remains, but now it hums with pleasure, building into something raw and addicting.

“Fuuuuck, baby. You’re perfect,” he groans, hands gripping your hips tight as he finally buries himself inside you.

Your whimpers turn into moans—real, needy ones—your body instinctively rocking back into him.

He moves with more confidence now, pace quickening, hips slapping against your ass with wet, sinful sounds. The wedge keeps you elevated, forcing you to take every inch. You’re trapped between his body and the bed, utterly at his mercy.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growls, one hand slipping beneath you to rub your clit again, hard and fast.

“I–Gguk—I think I’m gonna–!”

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love being ruined.”

You cry out, vision going white as your second orgasm tears through you, louder, sharper than the last. Your hole tightens around him, and Jeongguk curses violently.

“Fuckfuckfuck—princess!” He cums with a shout, cock pulsing inside you, hot ropes painting your insides, claiming you completely.

He doesn’t stop.

Even as his orgasm fades, he keeps moving—softer now, fucking you through the aftershocks. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles.

You keen softly, too sensitive to handle it, but too blissed out to push him away. Another orgasm builds—sharp and shocking—and then explodes across your body, leaving you limp and trembling.

When you finally slump forward, boneless and trembling, Jeongguk catches you with careful hands, easing your weight down onto the wedge. His touch is slow as he unties your wrists, his thumbs brushing over the faint, reddened grooves the rope left behind. He doesn’t speak yet—just presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, then to your temple, grounding you as your breath stutters its way back into rhythm.

The blindfold slips off next, and you blink slowly, vision adjusting to the dim golden light just in time to see his broad back retreating toward the ensuite bathroom.

“I’ll run us a bath,” he murmurs over his shoulder, voice low and warm. “You did so good for me, baby.”

There’s quiet pride in his tone, wrapped in something softer—adoration, maybe, or something frighteningly close to love. And before the water even starts to run, he’s back, tucking a warm blanket around your shoulders and cradling your face in his palms like he’s still worried he might’ve pushed too far.

“Let me take care of you now, yeah?” he says, gently brushing your damp hair from your face, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re mine to break—but you’re also mine to put back together.”

You hum, eyes fluttering closed once more.

Behind your lids, you still feel him—his warmth, his weight, his hands claiming you over and over again.

And in the corner of your blissed out mind, one thought curls up like a secret:

You’ll never belong to anyone else.

— — — — —

The water is warm and fragrant, infused with the scent of vanilla and brown sugar—your favorite combination. Jeongguk had started keeping your bath bombs stocked at his house without ever making a big deal out of it. The kind of quiet gesture that said more than his words ever could.

You’re nestled between his legs, back resting against the firm plane of his chest, your arms stretched lazily across his knees while his fingers trace idle circles beneath the surface. It’s peaceful here. Quiet. The kind of quiet that feels sacred.

Until he speaks.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The words pierce through the steam thick air and sink straight into your chest, rooting themselves like lead in your lungs.

Your body stiffens before you can stop it, muscles tensing where you lie against him. You blink at the candles dancing along the tiled wall, refusing to move, to breathe, to react—because if you don’t acknowledge it, maybe it won’t be real.

You always knew this day would come. That Jeongguk—beautiful, untouchable Jeongguk—would eventually grow tired of sneaking kisses and hidden nights. That he’d outgrow you, just like the others before you, and move on to his next fleeting thrill.

And maybe it hurt more because, somewhere along the way, you’d started to believe you were different.

But what could you say?

You were never his to keep.

“Princess?” His voice is gentle, testing, but you don’t trust yourself to answer. Your silence seems to worry him more than any argument might’ve, and when his arms shift around you, the water sloshes in protest. A wave spills over the porcelain lip of the tub, splattering onto the floor, unnoticed.

He turns you gently until you’re facing him, your chest brushing his with each uneven breath. His features are muddled—blurred by steam, or maybe the tears clinging to your lashes. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until his thumbs brushed under your eyes, wiping away water with more water.

“Why are you crying, baby—? Oh. No, no, no. Shit. That’s not what I meant.” He panics slightly, eyes wide and fingers fumbling like he’s trying to put you back together. “I didn’t mean us. That’s not what I… fuck. I’m not good at this shit.”

He’s rambling now, the way he always does when he’s trying to fix something that’s slipping through his fingers. He leans in to kiss your cheek, lips warm and soft and a little desperate, the way someone might kiss a bruise they didn’t mean to cause.

You see it in his face—adoration, guilt, sincerity. You used to think he was a mystery, impossible to figure out. But now? He might as well be an open book.

“I meant I don’t want to sneak around anymore,” he clarifies, voice softer now, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

You blink once. Twice. “What?” Your head tilts to the side, eyes wide, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. God, you were so fucking cute when you were confused.

He cups your cheeks in his hands, thumbs barely skimming your skin as he brings your face closer, so close your noses brush.

“I want to be with you,” he says simply. “You’re mine. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re strangers. I want to kiss you after a race in front of everyone. Even your brother.”

You wrinkle your nose in horror. “Ew. Why would you say that? That’s nasty.”

He chuckles, full and deep, his grin stretching across his face like sunshine breaking through a storm.

Your voice turns soft, almost childlike in its wonder. “You mean it?”

He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t need to ask what you’re really searching for. He leans in and kisses you—slow and certain, like a promise written in ink instead of pencil.

“What’d I say, baby?” he murmurs against your lips. “Make bad decisions, you deal with the consequences. You’re stuck with me.”

You giggle, bright and unguarded, and tug him back in. “If this is my punishment, I’ll happily do the time for the crime.”

Jeongguk pulls away with a groan, throwing his head back in laughter. Wet strands of hair sling droplets across your face and neck, but you’re too busy watching him—really watching him—to care.

He sobers only slightly, eyes finding yours again with that same unshakable intensity. One hand slips behind your neck, holding you there as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“You’re so fucking cheesy, princess,” he whispers, brushing his nose against yours, “but I love it.”

You lean into him, fingers curling around his wrist, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you’re falling alone.

You feel like you’ve been caught.

masterlist

love

Dickless

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: basically pwp but like, enemies to lovers if you REALLY squint

Summary: Your boyfriend won't go down on you and it is a Problem. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood fuckboy (or is he??) Taehyung is there to lend a mouth hand.

Word count: 11.1k

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, infidelity, some very poor communicating

A/N: it's another repost!!! because this just hit 2k notes on the old blog 🥺🥺🥺 I have a secret soft spot for this fic, ngl. I'm secretly (not so secretly) proud of the smut; I tried to do something a bit different with my writing and I like how it came out, at least those parts. I have not edited this at all due to the aforemetioned bottle of wine so, here it is as it always was

ETA: the sexual politics of this one are 🥴😬 because reader essentially won't accept the truth that sexual incompatibility is both real and a valid reason to not continue a relationship. No one should be pressured into doing something they don't want and that extends to her bf! It's not his fault! She should have dumped him months ago! And she didn't! And she's in the wrong for that!! To be clear: she is in the wrong!!!!

That said, she's not a total cunt; she is struggling with it and doesn't want to break-up with him because she does (did) love him and she feels like she should just be able to give up this thing because it's only her, it's only what she wants, it doesn't really matter-- except it does matter; what she wants does matter and she had to come to terms with that and the fact that that means she and her bf can't be together.

* * *

You remembered the first time you saw Taehyung. You were at a bar your friend had dragged you to because she knew he would be there; they had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks and she wanted to ‘casually’ run into him as he had stopped replying to her texts.  

“There he is,” Tara had hissed, pointing to a tall man across the room, dark curls bouncing on his brow, long fingers curled around a wine glass, and an intense look on his face.  

Moving further into the room, it had then been revealed that the target of his gaze was another woman and, despite your friend’s best attempts, Taehyung was not interested. She had dragged you to the toilets where she cried, real, huge tears. 

“It’s just been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Did you say you were exclusive?” you had asked, trying to be sensitive but shocked at the display of emotion. She wasn’t usually like this. 

“I’m not crying because I’m in love with him or something!” she had replied, her voice thick with tears. “I’m crying because he’s never going to sleep with me again!” 

“What?” 

“If he’s done with me, then that’s it. I’m done for. I’m done with sex.”  

She had fixed you with a wet, shining stare. 

“No one is as good in bed as Taehyung.” Her voice was hushed, awed. “He... You just don’t know if you haven’t slept with him, ok? He has ruined me. I can never sleep with anyone else, not knowing that he’s out there somewhere, not sleeping with me. No on-” 

“No one is that good at sex. Come on; it’s not like he’s got a magic dick or so-” 

“Yes, he has! He absolutely has. But it’s not just his dick – it's his everything. I’m telling you, y/n-” she had sniffled for dramatic effect, her tears were mostly dried- “he’s the best I’ve ever had or will ever have and, honestly, if he ever shows any interest in you, take it.” 

“I have a boyfriend.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Your mouth dropped open in shock; she knew your boyfriend; you had thought they got along well; but she interrupted you before you could argue. 

“I’m serious, y/n. This is a hall pass situation. Do not turn Taehyung down.” 

“So I can end up like you, crying over his dick in a toilet?” 

She had fixed you with a death glare but could not exactly say you were wrong.  

* * *  

That was months ago now. And, somehow, Taehyung kept popping up in your life. At the pub, at bars, at a party where you weren’t even sure he knew anyone – he just happened to be there. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him because you didn’t even know him, but you certainly had no interest in getting to know him. Men like him were ten a penny and, despite what you had been told about him, you were not convinced he was all that in the sack, because men like him never are. 

He was certainly handsome; you wouldn’t deny that. But attractive? No one that smug, that arrogant, could ever be attractive to you. Someone who thinks the world is at their feet, that everyone should fall to their knees for them, that other people exist only for their delectation... That was disgusting, not sexy. Even if you hadn’t had a boyfriend, you knew there was no way his ‘charm’ could work on you. All bluster and machismo and that quirked eyebrow and little smirk? No, thank you. 

“You know, I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”  

The voice came from behind you and you knew, without having to look, who it would be. You replied not even bothering to turn around. 

“No need. I know who you are.” 

“Oh? And who am I?” 

He was next to you then, leaning against the wall, your arms touching. 

“You’re Taehyung with the magical dick.” 

“Oh, is that what they call me?” 

“Well, I don’t-” 

“You just did.” 

“I don’t but rumour has it... Of course, I don’t believe a word.” 

“There are rumours going around that I have a magical dick and you don’t believe them... You know there’s one way to know for sure?” 

You turned to him, then, stared into his eyes – wide, innocent, as if he wasn’t just asking you to fuck him without even knowing your name – and scoffed. 

“No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.” 

“And does he have a magical dick?” 

You didn’t hesitate, not really, not for more than half a second, but it was enough. 

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a real shame. You want my number so you can pass it on to him? Maybe I could give him some tips?” 

“Ugh, goodbye, Taehyung.” 

You pushed yourself off the wall and made your way through the room, but he followed after you. 

“Or,” he continued. “You could just take my number and not pass it on, maybe keep it for yourself. In case of an emergency or-” 

“Emergency? What emergency might I possibly ever have that I would require your assistance?” 

He leant down, so close that you could smell his shampoo and his drink on his breath. His cheek barely brushed yours as he brought his lips to your ear. 

“Maybe your boyfriend with the disappointing dick can’t get you off and you’re so on edge that you think, god I’d do anything, anything, to come right now, but you can’t. Then you’re lying there, hot and bothered and unsatisfied, yearning for something, someone, to come and sort you out, to show you the kind of pleasure you’ve not even ever dreamt of. And you think of me, and my magical dick, and you think, oh how I wish I’d taken his number; if I had his number, I’d call him right no-” 

You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back.  

“I’m not taking your number and I’m not going to call you. This-” you gestured broadly to him “this doesn’t work on me. You’re a fuckboy and I don’t fuck with fuckboys. Goodbye.” 

As you walked away from him for the second time, he didn’t follow and you had to stop yourself turning around to see if he was still looking at you. It didn’t matter if he was or not, but you liked the idea of denying the undeniable man, of being one person he couldn’t charm, couldn’t win over. You didn’t care if his dick really was magic or not because you knew you would never be finding out.  

* * *  

The next time you saw him was a few weeks later, at a party. He was on the sofa, slouching low, an empty glass held slack in his hand, dangling at the end of his wrist. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not making moves or scanning for prey; just sitting, staring into space. You turned away from him; you didn’t want to think about a sex god right now; you didn’t want to think about sex full-stop. You ideally wanted to not think at all. You left the room. 

Later that night, when you went back inside, you saw him again. He was still sitting on the sofa, empty glass (the same one?) in hand, still staring into space. You briefly wondered if he was on drugs and, if he were, whether that was deliberate or he’d had his drink spiked. Most people seemed to be ignoring him, or they hadn’t noticed him at all. You sat down next to him. 

“No conquest tonight?” 

“Nope.” 

“What? Not even one? You can’t be telling me your magical dick would miss an opportunity like this: all these people, drinks flowing, inhibitio-” 

“I said no.” 

He tipped his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. 

“Are you ok?” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you lying?” 

“Yep.” 

You had to stifle a giggle and take a pause before you continued. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve had your heartbroken. Mr Magical Dick, Mr Fuck Anything That Moves, Mr Don’t Keep Anyone Around For More Than Two Weeks has had his little heart broken?” 

You could see his jaw work as he tongued at the inside of his cheek, as if deliberating whether or not he would confide in you. 

“In a manner of speaking.” 

The way you gasped was uncharitable, and on a different night, you might have been less callous, but misery loves company and you were delighted to find out that someone else – Kim Taehyung at that – was having relationship problems. You were just fixing on your best retort, tidying it up on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. 

“Before you say whatever clever remark you’re currently labouring over, my fucking grandmother died, ok? So save it.” 

“Oh.” Surprised didn’t even come close. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

He stood and walked away but you followed him, up the stairs and into an empty bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. You followed him in and shut the door behind you, but stayed next to it, unsure what to say or do. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ventured. 

“No.” 

“Do you want to drink about it?” 

He lifted the empty glass in his hand as if he were about to take a sip and then held it out to you. 

“Sure.” 

“Ok, uh, stay here then and I’ll be back.” 

When you returned to the bedroom (bottle of unfortunately cheap vodka in hand), you thought he must have left: the bed was empty. Then you saw his feet poking out from the other side and found him lying on the floor. You took his glass, poured him a drink, and watched him as he knocked it back. He grimaced and looked at you. 

“This is horrible.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I figured it wouldn’t be missed. Sorry.” 

He held his glass up for more. 

You sat, drinking in silence. You didn’t know what to say to him and he was obviously not interested in conversation so part of you wanted to leave him alone, but he hadn’t told you to leave, and he was still holding his glass out for more, and you didn’t really feel like he should’ve been alone. So, you stayed. It was nice, actually. You hadn’t really been in the mood for a party – you had just wanted to get out – so you were enjoying the quiet. You were enjoying the way the vodka was making you warm, edges all fuzzy and soft, the noise far away.  

“She basically raised me.” 

His voice was quiet and thick; you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just talking.  

“Yeah?”  

“She-” 

He looked at you then, his eyes not quite focusing, and stopped talking. 

“You can tell me about her, if you want.” 

He shook his head with a groan and drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head between them.  

“I’m going to go home,” he said after another short while had passed. 

“You sure?” 

He nodded. 

“Can you get home ok? Did you need me to get you a taxi or call someone?” 

He shook his head and fished his phone out of his pocket, waving it at you, unlocking it to order a car. You almost didn’t reach out for it, but you knew you would feel responsible if something happened, so you took his phone and entered your number into it. 

“Please let me know when you have got home safe, ok?” 

He looks at you, suspicious, and then playful as that all-too-familiar smirk returns to his lips. 

“It was all a ruse, huh? Get me drunk and give me your number under the pretence of concern for me, huh? I knew you wanted me.” 

“What I want, Taehyung, is to not be the last person to see you alive and the subsequent subject of a murder investigation.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re the one who calls me magic dick...” 

He winked at you and then turned, waving a hand in your direction, stumbling down the stairs. You figured you might as well call it a night yourself.  

You were back in your apartment, washed and undressed, tapping impatiently at the side of your phone, not sure if you should wait to hear from Taehyung or assume that he’d forgotten and just go to sleep yourself. Then a message came in from an unknown number. 

A head shot, but with enough of his shoulders displayed to make it clear he was topless, his black hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. He had his eyes closed, his fingers in a V over his mouth. 

???: Didn’t die. 

???: Unlike my grandma 🙁 

You choked on surprised laughter. 

y/n: Glad you got home ok. Sorry about your gma 🙁 

* * *  

Your phone rang the next evening while you were making tea and you answered without looking who was calling. 

“Hello?” 

“What the fuck is this I hear about you and Kim Taehyung?” 

It was your boyfriend. 

“Uh, I don’t know; what did you hear?” 

“Apparently, you’re fucking.” 

“WHAT?!”  

“Apparently, when you were out last night, you and Taehyung went into a bedroom for a very long time and he came out looking very pleased with himself.” 

“Ok and? That means we’re fucking, does it?” 

“I don’t know; I’m asking you.” 

“Ok, well, no, we didn’t. We didn’t really do anything. We just sat and drank.” 

“What do you mean you just sat and drank? What even is that?” 

“I mean we literally sat and drank. I wasn’t in a good mood and neither was he, so I nicked a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and we sat in the dark, in silence, drinking it. That’s it.” 

There was an aggrieved sigh from the other end of the phone. 

“So, it’s my fault, is it? Is that what this is about? You trying to make me jealous or some sh-” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m supposed to believe it’s just a coincidence that, almost immediately after we have an argument about me not going down on you, you end up at a party with the most notorious fuckboy in the fucking country?” 

You could feel anger swelling within you, sweat pricking on your back and in your palms. 

“Believe what you want. I’m telling you nothing happened.” 

You hung up. You were not about to be accused of cheating by a guy who, frankly, already owed you an apology. As if you would’ve done that. Even if you had been single, you wouldn’t have slept with Taehyung – not ever, but certainly not last night. You had a little more decency than that. Hell, even Taehyung had more decency than that. You tried to push it from your mind; if you had been your boyfriend, maybe you would’ve thought it, too, or at least, felt insecure about it or unsure. You could admit that it didn’t necessarily look great – you were very aware of Taehyung’s reputation and maybe you should have considered that before shutting yourself in a room with him. But you also knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. So you were prepared to let it blow over.  

* * *  

Taehyung: You coming tonight? 

y/n: Coming where? 

Taehyung: Jimin’s party? 

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ not invited 

Taehyung: Ok, I’m inviting you. 

Taehyung: So you coming? 

y/n: Can’t. Have a date 

Taehyung: You dumped disappointing dick??!!! 😄😄😄 

y/n: No. 

y/n: He’s still my boyfriend. My date is with him. 

Taehyung: Boo 😒 let me know when you finally leave him 

y/n: Fuck off, taehyung 

* * *  

You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, until you found yourself actually searching for him, peeking into dark corners in clubs and bars to see if he was there. You weren’t sure why you did; you weren’t friends and you certainly weren’t interested in him. But you were intrigued. You always assumed people like him were shallow – truly of the no thoughts, head empty kind. You hadn’t really considered that he might be a real person under there somewhere. Albeit a smug, arrogant, charmless, shameless person. Who may or may not have had a magic dick. 

You thought about what your friend had said, the first time you met Taehyung. How she had cried, not because she liked him, not because he broke her heart, but because she would never get to sleep with him again. You couldn’t imagine it, sex that good. Not that the sex you had was bad (it wasn’t), it was good, even, but you couldn’t imagine it being so good, so much better than now that it would inspire such a reaction.  

You began to think about it more and more as things with your boyfriend went from bad to worse.  

The club was hot and loud and you were happy to be drunk and dancing. Happy, that is, until you weren’t. Your phone buzzed once, twice, three times, four times. You knew it was your boyfriend and you knew it was because you were out without him. Which was kind of the whole point; you didn’t want to speak to him. 

You wandered outside to the smoking area, for some air, to scan your eyes over your boyfriend’s messages and see if there was anything worth replying to. And there was Taehyung. He hadn’t seen you yet and you knew you had only a few seconds before he turned around and noticed you. You realised, with what might have been clarity or might have been too much gin, that of all the people in all the world that you might speak to about your problems, Taehyung was probably the best: experienced, not your friend, you didn’t care about his opinion of you, and he didn’t think much of your boyfriend. 

“Hey, Taehyung,” you called as you approached.  

He turned and his smug, little smirk turned into a genuine smile when he saw you. 

“Y/n! It’s been a while. Still being disappointed in the bedroom?” 

You almost changed your mind. 

“Shut up, Taehyung. I have to ask you something.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“You have a lot of sex, right? Like, a lot of sex with a lot of different wome-... people? Right?” 

He shrugged. 

“Some, sure. Maybe a lot. Depends who’s asking.” 

“Whatever, you know what I mean. When you have sex with someone with a... with uh, a vulva, do you go down on them?” 

He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown another head and, when he answered, he spoke slowly, as if you were an idiot. 

“Yes, if they have a pussy, I go down on them.” 

“Always? Like, every time?” 

“Well, I guess probably not 100% of the time, but... I don’t know, 95?” 

This was not the answer you had been hoping for.  

“Why are you a-” He cut himself off with a gasp and looked at you, shock and glee in equal measure on his face. “Does Disappointing Dick not go down on you?” 

You blushed furiously, your face hot, and stomped your foot, shushing him viciously. 

“No,” you admitted, through gritted teeth. “No, he doesn’t. Not ever.” 

“Not ever?” 

“Not ever.” 

“Like, not even a little?” 

“I said not ever! What do you not understand about those words?” 

“Why?” 

“You mean why doesn’t he?” You shrugged, trying to appear more unbothered than you were. “He says he doesn’t like it.” 

“Doesn’t like it? Is he gay?” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a groan, intending to drop it, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back. 

“I’m being serious. If he’s not going down on you, he can’t be that into pussy. Is it just you or was he the same with previous partners?” 

“He says it’s everyone, not just me. He says he just doesn’t like it.” 

“Has he tried? With you, I mean?” 

You grimaced at the memory. 

“Once.” 

“And how was it?” 

“Awful. I couldn’t relax because all I could think about was how much he didn’t want to do it and he was so awkward and tentative and then he got annoyed because I wasn’t enjoying-” 

“He got annoyed?” 

“Yeah.” 

Taehyung’s brows came over his eyes and his lips pouted forward. He looked at you, thinking carefully. 

“Do you go down on him?” 

“Well, yeah, but I like doing it so it’s not an issue.” 

“But him not going down on you is an issue?” 

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t make it a big deal and maybe it’s not and I’m just being selfis-” 

He held up a hand to cut you off before you could even finish the word. 

“You’ve done things you aren’t that keen on in bed, right?” 

“Uh, wh- what do you mean? No one’s ever forced me to do-” 

“No, I don’t mean that. I just mean... There are some positions you like more than others, yeah? Or maybe he likes to fuck in the shower but you prefer not to or he likes morning sex and you don’t really, but you sometimes do it anyway, even though it’s not your favourite thing?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“So why do you do them?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well if they’re not really top of your list, why do you do them at all? Why not just say no and only do it how you want?” 

“Because it’s not just about me. It’s about them, too, and I want them to have a good time. And, ok, maybe we do it that way this time, and next time, we’ll do it my way.” 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t see your point.” 

“My point is that, even if eating your pussy isn’t his favourite thing to do, he should still do it because it’s something that you like and that makes you feel good and he should care about that.” 

“You care, do you? About all the people you have sex with?” 

“Yes, I do.” His eyes were sharp, his lips almost sneering. He seemed annoyed but you couldn’t work out why. “Why are you asking me about this anyway? Want me to give you what you’re missing?” 

You punched him in the arm, a little harder than you’d intended, and he scowled, giving the area a rub. 

“No. Why would you ask me that? Of course, I fucking don’t. I have a boyfriend.” 

“Yeah. And maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

He lifts an eyebrow at you, disbelief and impatience clear on his face. 

“You know what I mean. And you know I’m always here for you.” 

For one second, you really thought he was being nice and thoughtful; you thought he might be treating you like a friend. And then reality came back to you and you realised precisely what he meant. You punched him in the arm again.  

“Fuck off, Taehyung. I’m not fucking you.” 

“That’s not what I offered. Come on, sweetheart-” 

“Don’t fucking call me that!”  

“Y/n, seriously.”  

He cradled your cheek with his hand and looked closely at you. His brown eyes were so warm, inviting, so wide and open and sweet that you couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.  

“What’s a little oral between friends? Let me show you your pretty little pussy’s worth wanting.” 

“Ugh!” 

You ripped your face away from his hand and stalked off, even as he called after you. The juxtaposition of that cute, teddy-bear face and his fucking depravity would give you whiplash. You told yourself that’s what it was; that he was confusing and you didn’t know how to take him, didn’t know if you could trust him. That’s why you could feel a cold stone of anxiety sinking in your stomach; you were discombobulated, that’s all. You were drunk. He had knocked you off kilter.  

You were fine. 

The next day, Taehyung messaged you. 

Taehyung: I’m sorry for overstepping, ok?  

You didn’t have time to read the rest before he was video-calling you. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“You haven’t even given me three seconds to read your messages yet.” 

“I know, but it said you read them so I knew you were looking at your phone and I wanted to speak to you.” 

“I don’t know if that’s smart or creepy.” 

You could tell he shrugged by the jolt of the camera. 

“What do you want, then? You’ve already apologised.” 

“I don’t want to apologise. Not really... Well, I do if I made you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I did but I’m not going to apologise for anything else. Not even this... 

“No partner should ever make you feel weird or self-conscious or bad or insecure or anything like that. If you are putting your trust in someone, if you’re literally putting your body in their hands, they had better make damn fucking sure that they’re treating it right, that they’re taking care of you, that you feel good, that you feel better being with them than you do on your own. That’s all non-negotiable. It doesn’t sound like Dickless is doing that.” 

“What happened to Disappointing Dick?” 

“I demoted him. He doesn’t deserve a dick.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“I’m fucking serious. You deserve better.” 

You hung up on him. You didn’t want to hear it because you didn’t want to admit that it did make you feel bad; that you were self-conscious now; that something bad was definitely happening inside your brain and you didn’t, somehow, feel like you had the right to blame your boyfriend. 

Taehyung, persistent as ever, sent a text. 

Taehyung: I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m also not sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be feel like your body is perfect because it is. Your body is a site of worship and if he’s not praying to you, sacrificing to you, he’s blaspheming. You deserve to be fucked by someone who will recognise what you are, will recognise how lucky they are to be with you, will make sure they let you know just how desirable and sexy and fucking perfect you are. That's all. 

Y/n: You mean someone like you? 

Taehyung: 🙄🙄🙄 

Taehyung: NO. I’m not trying to fuck you; you’ve made your feelings on that abundantly clear. This is not about me at all. How many times do I have to say I’m serious about this? Your boyfriend is a sack of shit.  

You did not reply. 

* * *  

It was a Monday morning, hardly the highlight of anyone’s week, when you next ran into Taehyung. As you entered the café, you could see him, waiting for his coffee at the other end of the bar. You ignored him and placed your order, hoping he would be gone before you had finished.  

No such luck. Worse still, he immediately started talking to you. 

“I just have one question; will you let me ask one question?” 

“What?” 

“Are you prepared to go the rest of your life with no one going down on you?” 

“What?” 

You could feel your face heat and you glanced nervously around, hoping no one else had heard him. You were furious with him for bringing it up here, in public, first thing in the morning, but you were also not prepared for that question and a cold feeling of dread slipped through your veins like ice. 

“You’re in a relationship with this guy; at some point, eventually, you’ll get married, right? And that’s it, then; you’re staring down the barrel of what, 70 years without it? You’ve already had your last time. Do you remember it? Was it even good?” 

You knew it wasn’t because the last time anyone did it was the first – and only – time your boyfriend had and that had been an unmitigated disaster.  

“We’re not that serious, Taehyung. We’re not getting married.” 

“Maybe not now, but if you don’t break up, that’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Is it really something you’re willing to give up forever? For him?”  

Your coffee had arrived and you had hoped you could take it and run, but Taehyung picked up your cup with his spare hand and wandered towards a spare table.  

“I don’t even know why you care so much,” you hissed as you sat opposite him at the table. 

“I don’t know why you don’t. You asked me for a reason and you are apparently completely unwilling to listen to anything. Is what I’m saying so radical? What do your other friends say?” 

You couldn’t answer that question because you hadn’t told anyone else. It was too embarrassing.  

“Have you even told anyone else?” 

“No.” 

“Then why me? Because I’m just some disgusting, shallow fuckboy whose opinion you don’t care about except when it might benefit you? Because you expected me to say that I don’t go down on the women I sleep with? Expected me to make some crude joke or cruel comment about them? Because you think that, just because I sleep with a lot of people, I must not respect them enough to treat them right? All of the above?” 

The silence between the two of you was thick, untouched by the noise and bustle of the café around you. You couldn’t deny that basically everything he had said was true, but hearing him say it made you feel thoroughly shamed. 

“I’m not offended,” he continued. “Because I know that none of that is true, as does everyone who actually knows me. You haven’t bothered to get to know me-” 

“Yeah because all you do is try to get in my pants!” 

“How is that true? Did I not just tell you that I’m not trying to fuck you? That this isn’t about me? Contrary to your beliefs, you are actually not some kind of irresistible siren whom I will make it my life mission to bed. I can live without fucking you, thank you very much. And you think I’m arrogant.” 

“I don’t think I’m irresistible,” you protested weakly.  

“I’m not interested in arguing with you. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He paused to give you a dramatic, over the top, sexy wink and you couldn’t stop yourself rolling your eyes. “But, for the millionth time, I am serious about this. And you need to get serious about it. Here, enjoy your coffee, sweetheart.” 

He slid your cup towards you, stood, and left before you could tell him off for calling you that again. You were rattled and frustrated and couldn’t stop thinking about the rest of your life.  

You couldn’t stop thinking about it that day or that week or even into the next week. You saw your boyfriend three times and had sex that you couldn’t enjoy because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.  

It was the last time, with him pounding away inside you, that he finally noticed. 

“Hey, y/n.”  

He slowed, but didn’t stop.  

“Where have you gone? I feel like you’re not there.” 

You dragged your eyes back into focus, onto him. 

“Do you think you’ll ever like it?” 

He frowned, confused, and came to a stop, resting his weight on you a little. 

“Like what? What are you talking about?” 

“Oral.”  

He groaned and you knew, even though you couldn’t see his face as he rested his forehead on your clavicle, that he was rolling his eyes. 

“Do we have to talk about this again? I feel like this is all we ever talk about and I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I want you to give me a reason! Tell me why you won’t do it!” 

He rolled away, slipping out of you, and sat up and you pushed yourself upright next to him. He had never really given you an answer, other than that he ‘just doesn’t like it’ and you thought this little pause might be him finally deciding to tell you. 

“Tell me why it matters so much!” he countered and your hope deflated. “I get you off, don’t I? It’s not like I’m selfish. Why do you need me to do it so badly?” 

“Because I like it! Because I do things for you! Because... Because it makes me feel bad that you don’t.” 

“Oh I make you feel bad? All this time I spend trying to make you feel good-” 

“I don’t! I don’t feel good! I don’t feel good because you make me feel like there must be something wrong with me! No one else has ever had a problem with it-” 

“Now who’s making who feel bad? If everyone else you’ve fucked likes it so much, why don’t you just go and ask them to do it?” 

“What?” 

“Well, if they all love doing it so much and you need it so fucking desperately, why not ask them?” 

“Are you serious right now?” 

His jaw dropped as if you’d just hit him. 

“Of course I’m not fucking serious! Are you joking? You’re my fucking girlfriend! As if I would let you do that! I don’t understand why you can’t just be happy with what we have.” 

He was standing and putting his feet back into his boxers and trousers. You didn’t want him to leave. Because you wanted him to stay and change his mind. You wanted him to suddenly turn around and say, actually, I was wrong, please allow me to go down on you for hours and hours... You knew he wouldn’t. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand. 

“Do you love me?” 

At that moment, no, you truly didn’t. It took all your strength to look him in the eye and answer. 

“Yes, of course.” 

He kissed you and told you the same and then he told you to get some rest and sleep on it and that things would look better in the morning.  

You had had this argument enough times to know that it wouldn’t. Things would look the same in the morning. In actual fact, they looked worse.  

You still couldn’t get Taehyung’s words out of your mind, any of them. The idea of anyone worshipping you was faintly absurd, a rhetorical flourish you’re sure he didn’t mean literally, but he seemed so sincere and, well, they didn’t say he had a magical dick for nothing.  

You called Tara.  

“Ok, I need you to be really real with me and also to not ever tell anyone I asked you this.” 

“Oh my god, the intrigue... Go on.” 

“Just exactly how good is Taehyung in bed?” 

She cackled loudly down the phone and then sighed, suddenly wistful. 

“Still, by far, the best I have ever had. I still miss him.” 

“Ok, but I don’t know how good the other people you’ve slept with are. I need like, some objective measure-” 

“Why? Are you planning to sleep with him?” 

“No! God no! I just don’t believe that what people say about him can be true, so I’m … I don’t know... checking...” 

Her responding hum sounded unconvinced. 

“Well, he once made me come for like, two straight minutes. I thought I was going to die and I could barely walk the next day; every muscle in my body was sore.” 

“Is that... good?” 

“YES! I meant it when I said you shouldn’t turn him down if he ever offers. I have never had as many orgasms in one night as when I was with him. He just... He fucking loves it and he loves you when he’s fucking you. He kind of takes it almost weirdly seriously? But like, in a good way. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I may have been drunk at the bar that time, but I honestly could still cry about how much I miss fucking him.”  

“Jesus.” 

“Not even he can help me, y/n.”  

“Ok, well, thanks. I guess.” 

“Did that help? I seriously think you should fuck him; I promise I won’t even be jealous because it is truly something I think everyone should get to experience at least once.”  

“I am not sure that’s a normal thing to say about someone.” 

“Taehyung is not normal.”  

* * *  

Two days. It was two days before you snapped. You took a deep breath, pressed call, and held the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” 

“Do you want to eat me out?” 

You could hear choking at the other end and a muffled ‘hold on’. You held on. 

“Sorry, what the fuck did you just ask me?”  

“I said, do you want to eat me out?” 

“Is this a hypothetical question? Because you know I have already made the offer.”  

“So you do want to eat me out?” 

“Again, is this hypothetical or are you asking me over right now?” 

Another deep breath. 

“I’m asking you over right now.” 

“Give me your address.” 

You paced up and down your living room, anxious, impatient. The sheets on the bed were clean; you’d showered and then done it again for no real reason other than an irrational fear of him thinking you were dirty; you hesitated over whether or not to light candles – it felt like too much, too romantic but would also mean you could turn out the lights, keep it dark... You were just about to find the matches again when there was a knock at the door.  

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” 

His grin was wide as he stepped over the threshold but it did nothing to put you at ease.  

“Do you want a drink or something?” you asked as you made your way to the kitchen. 

“Whatever you want. I am at your service.” 

He bowed, thrusting an arm elaborately to the side, his head dipping low as he bent deeply from the hips.  

“Please don’t be weird. Don’t make this weird.” 

“What’s weird about it? Like I said, what’s a little oral between friends? Platonic pussy eating, that’s all it is.” 

“I said don’t be weird! Why do you have to put it like that?” 

“Well, what is it if not that? I assume you don’t suddenly want to date me.” 

“God, no-” 

He raised his eyebrows at you, questioning, demanding. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.” 

He shrugged. 

“It’s alright. I know you still think we’re not friends, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t you?” 

“No, I wouldn’t.” 

He was suddenly close to you, a little too close. He looked down at you, and you expected to look up and see that arrogant smirk, the quirked eyebrow that he thought was so sexy, but he’s just smiling, sweet, cute.  

“I’m glad you called, though. Glad you’ve finally seen the light and ditched Dickless-” 

“I haven’t. We’re still together.” 

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth a little ‘o’ of surprise. 

“You haven’t? And yet here I am... I thought you were a good girl.” 

“Shut up, Taehyung. Stop trying to flirt with me.”  

You moved away from him, towards the fridge, and got out a bottle of wine, more for something to do than anything else. You poured two glasses and held one out to him.  

“How do you expect me to go down on you if you won’t even let me flirt with you a little?” 

“You don’t have to flirt with me if I’ve already agreed to it. There’s no need.” 

“That’s what you think flirting is? Just a way to get into somebody’s bed? That is not what flirting is for – well, not the only thing.” 

He considered you carefully over his wine glass and you could feel yourself blushing all over; he kept his gaze steady, his face betraying nothing, and then he held his hand out to you. You didn’t take it but you moved closer to him, just close enough that he could reach out and grab you by the waist, pulling you up against him.  

“Just so we’re clear,” he began, his voice low, his eyes pointedly fixed on yours. “If we do this and you don’t break up with Dickless, I will consider it a failure.” 

You didn’t know what you felt. What would make this a success? What would make it a failure? Did you want it to be good? So good you ended your relationship? Or did you want it to be disappointing, maybe literally anticlimactic, so that you could stay with him and not feel like you were missing out? You had absolutely no idea. You didn’t even really know why you were doing it. Was it a good idea? What had possessed you? All you knew was that it had to be done. Now or never. For once and for all.  

He placed his wine glass on the counter and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers just lightly grazing your skin. Your stomach twisted and you squirmed out of his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop your heart racing.  

“What are you doing? Did you or did you not invite me over so I could go down on you?” 

“Well, yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean all of... All of that.” 

You heard him chuckle behind you and you turned slightly, just enough that you could see him run his hands through his hair and roll his eyes, the boxy grin back on his face.  

“Y’know, I’m starting to think that maybe you are the problem. At least a little bit.” 

When you didn’t move and didn’t respond, he sighed again, lightly exasperated. 

“Come here,” he commanded softly, holding his hands out to you. When you didn’t move, he walked towards you instead. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Do you trust me?” 

When you didn’t answer, he shook your head lightly side to side.  

“I don’t mean like, trust me with your family secrets, trust me to take care of your pets while you’re on holiday. I mean... Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” 

You shook your head and he moved his face even closer.  

“Do you think I’m going to do something you don’t want?” 

You shook your head and he lightly pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you think I’m going to make you do something you don’t want?” 

You shook your head and he kissed your other cheek. 

“So, do you trust me?” 

You nodded, dumb with anticipation and tension, shocked at the way your body was responding to this, just this: he hadn’t even kissed you on the mouth but you were trembling, warm, wet.  

“Ok, then,” he whispered and he moved his hands down your body, then back up on the inside of your clothes. His hands were cold and you shivered against him, closing your eyes. 

“Look at me.”  

Your eyes flicked back to him and he kissed your lips, just barely, still looking you in the eye, and a whimper caught in your throat. He closed his eyes and pulled you closer, his lips pressing against yours now. He removed a hand from your waist and gently pressed his thumb against your chin, opening your mouth to allow his tongue inside. His kiss was warm and sweet with wine; his tongue was soft against yours, slow as he licked into your mouth and retreated. You chased after his mouth when his lips left yours and you could feel him smile as he let you close the distance and kiss him again. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and sucked it gently, a barely perceptible pressure that made your knees tremble. 

You could feel all the heat rushing through your blood, flowering on the surface of your skin in warm blooms as you let yourself relax. All the tension you were holding melted away, evaporating on your skin, leaving you soft and pliant. A deep, dark want blossomed in you, its petals unfurling in your core, arousal first like dew drops, then like a sudden summer downpour buffeting the pale heads of roses. You had thought this would be quick, frantic with need, with guilt, with anxiety, but all of that was held at bay by the gentle way that Taehyung ran his tongue over yours, ran his hands over your body, held you just close enough that you could feel him against you but not so close you felt trapped.  

He moved from your mouth and placed kisses on your temple, your ear, your jaw. As he sucked kisses down your neck, you were so distracted that you didn’t notice him unclasp your bra, only aware when he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, already hard. He moaned against your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he pulled your hips against his. You gasped, both at the bite, and at the feeling of him, stiffening, growing against you. He ran his tongue over the indentations in your neck and you shivered.  

“Can I take your clothes off?”  

His voice was raspy and low in your ear as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. You sighed a yes and looked into his eyes as his fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse. His eyes were soft, liquid, the light glinting off them in gold and honey. He took his time, each button slow, his eyes never leaving yours. He nudged your nose with his, licked your bottom lip, sank his teeth into it, sucked it into his mouth.  

He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then he pulled the straps of your bra down and it fell, too. He finally dropped his gaze and took in the sight of your naked torso, nipples taut, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as he gently took them in his hands, massaging, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. He hummed quietly.  

“Shall we go to the bedroom now?” 

You couldn’t speak, only nodded, and walked backwards until your legs hit your bed, then you let him lay you down. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked again, holding the edge of your skirt. Again, you nodded and he pulled gently, the fabric almost burning against your legs as it dragged. He kissed your feet and you squirmed. 

“Ticklish?” He grinned and licked the sole of your left foot from heel to toe with the tip of his tongue as you squealed.  

“Yes, I am!” you gasped. He chuckled and relented, trailing soft, wet kisses up your legs. You held your breath as he licked at your inner thighs, anticipating him at your core.  

But he wasn’t there. He slipped his hands underneath at the hips and lifted the fabric so he could lick the crease of your leg and then pulled it down so he could kiss across the waistband from hip bone to hip bone, but he didn’t touch you. Your heart was racing in your chest now; what was he waiting for?  

He hummed against your skin and moved above you, his hands on either side of your chest. He looked at you, almost quizzical for a second, and then that look faded into a smile that – had it been anyone else – you might’ve called adoring. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you. 

“Relax, y/n. I can feel your heart beating from here.”  

Resting his full weight on one hand, he placed the other between your breasts, atop your sternum, your heart pushing back, thumping against your ribs.  

“But aren’t you gonna...?”  

He kissed you again, forceful this time, leaving you breathless as he pulled away. 

“Yes, I am. But we’re doing it my way, ok? Just relax; I’m going to take good care of you.” 

He shuffled downwards, lips everywhere on his path down your neck, across your chest. You whined when he took your nipple in his mouth, your back arching into him as he sealed his teeth around it, his tongue lapping at your tightened bud. 

Everything was so slow. You felt like a frog in a pan; you hadn’t really noticed it building, this huge, hungry desire, but now you were drowning in it, burning, melting. It enveloped you, held you, suspended, cushioned in its warmth but needled by its intensity. It sent its buds out from your centre to your extremities, your fingers and toes tingling, your body trembling, your breath catching in your throat. Flowers of want blooming all over you, petals falling from Taehyung’s lips, soft and sweet and warm.  

You let out a long, shaky whine when he finally locked his fingers around your underwear and tugged them down, his hands sliding against your legs as he pulled them all the way off.  

“Taehyung,” you whispered as he pushed your legs apart, crawling back towards you.  

“Yes?” 

You didn’t know what to say. You knew there was something, something inside you that you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. Everything was obscured by the veil of your greed, your craven yearning for him. You wanted his mouth on you so badly, wanted to be wanted. You remembered what he said about worship and a sudden panic sliced through you with painful clarity. 

“I-… What if it is me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”  

He pressed a soft kiss against your inner thigh and then loomed over you.  

“It’s not you, I promise.”  

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses pressed together, his hand on your cheek. 

“You’re perfect. Perfect, you hear me? If you’ve changed your mind about this, that’s ok-” 

“No, god no,” you answered quickly, immediately, absolutely sure that you wanted this, your nails digging into his arms. “Please...” 

He kissed you, slow, even slower than before, and he lowered his body down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. It’s only then that you realised he was still fully dressed. And you were completely naked beneath him, so exposed and so vulnerable. You pushed him back, a light palm against his chest, and he looked at you, frowning. 

“What’s wrong?”  

You looked at his eyes, somehow both shining and dark at the same time; his pouty mouth just barely open; his hips pressing into yours; his erection hot and hard against you, almost exactly where it needed to be, so you could just tip your hips and rub yourself on him, feel the friction you were desperate for. He looked at you so openly and it wasn’t like you expected it to be at all. None of it was. You thought he would be arrogant, cocksure, swaggering; you thought he would be rough, wild, frenetic; you thought it was all bluster and machismo, that he’d keep calling you ‘baby’ and asking how you liked it and trying to make you scream. You hadn’t even really believed that he would get you there. Whether due to you or to him, you had thought it probably wouldn’t happen. Your boyfriend had made you too self-conscious; Taehyung wouldn’t put the effort in or wouldn’t know what to do.  

But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at you questioningly, searchingly, like he actually cared. And he had moved so slowly, so patiently; he was rock-hard against you, but hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. This was the first time he’d even really pressed his hips against you so you could feel him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, tried to feel yourself in your body. You could feel the ghost of his breath over your face, his hand curled around your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly over your skin. There was the weight of his body, the warmth of it. You wanted to feel his skin in yours. 

“Take your clothes off,” you whispered, opening your eyes to look at him.  

He grinned and sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out to unzip his trousers but he batted your hand away. He unzipped them himself and stood to step out of them.  

“Better?” he asked, already making his way back to you, but shook your head. 

“No. Everything.”  

His eyebrows raised just a hair and he paused, considering you. 

“You know this is not about me, right?” 

“I know. I just want to see you.”  

He nodded slowly and hooked his thumbs into boxers, sliding them down and stepping out. His dick was wet with pre-cum and you couldn’t believe he could be so hard when you hadn’t even touched him, when he had barely touched you. He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles, slowly pulling you down, down, down, until you were just barely still lying on it, your feet touching the floor until he spread your thighs to the side, as wide as they could go.  

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his words muffled as he kissed your thigh. 

“Yes, fuck. Yes, Taehyung. Please.”  

He was still slow. Slow as he pressed kisses against your lips, on your mound, back out to the crease of your hip, your thighs. You whined when he ran his fingers through your folds, hearing the slick of your arousal as he dragged up to your clit and down again, as he opened you up. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you jumped, swallowing hard, trying to catch your breath as he opened his lips and sucked. He laved over your clit with the soft, flat pad of his tongue and you sighed, having forgotten this feeling. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, sprinkling kisses across your legs, your mound, your lips. “Tell me what works for you, what doesn’t.”  

But you couldn’t speak. You moaned and mewled and whimpered, but no words would come. You were swept away on a wave of pleasure, not in the room anymore, but somewhere else, somewhere nothing else existed – just you and Taehyung and this bed. You wanted to tell him yes, like that, more, yes, please, please, please, but the air was tight in your lungs, stuck in your throat, whipped away as it left your mouth in a strangled whine. 

He moaned loudly as he licked over your slit, drinking you in.  

“Y/n.” 

His breath was warm, brushing against your flushed skin. 

“You taste so good, y/n. I fucking knew you would.”  

He moved his mouth away again, biting down on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as he slipped first one and then two fingers into your wet heat. You whined, greedy, needy, grinding your hips, trying to feel some friction back on your clit. Taehyung hummed against your skin and you felt his lips stretch into a smile.  

“Don’t hold back, y/n. I love the way you sound.”  

And you didn’t. You let yourself go, let yourself fall into it, abandoned yourself to him. With his fingers still inside you and his mouth back, sealed against your clit, his tongue alternately flicking hard circles around it, then licking softly over it, you felt your body shuddering to its climax. You expected him to stop as your walls clenched hard on his fingers, to stop when your legs clamped over his ears, to stop when you writhed beneath him, fully overwhelmed as wave after wave swamped you with pleasure.  

But he didn’t. He thrummed his fingers hard against your front wall, not letting you squeeze them out. He kept his mouth on you, your slick and his spit mixing as you came, gushing around him. When you finally cried out, cursing him, calling his name, he slowed, but he still didn’t stop, and you felt your whole body convulse under him. With a flash of clarity, you remembered what Tara had said, and you couldn’t believe it, knew you couldn’t take it, knew this would kill you if it went on any longer.  

But it did. And you didn’t die. You felt yourself floating, your limbs weightless, your head dizzy as you climbed to your second peak, your, soft, weak body tightening, pulling in all directions at once, your skin burning, your heart like a hummingbird’s, blood roaring in your ears like the waves of the ocean. Your hands twisted in the bedsheets as you came, the noises you were making nothing short of animal.  

When you flopped, spent, melting into the mattress, you pushed your fingers through Taehyung’s hair and tugged, your body screaming with over-stimulation, your bed and thighs soaked. You could hardly see; nothing but flashing lights in front of you, stars shining and twinkling on your ceiling, swirling, disappearing and reappearing like a kaleidoscope.  

“Taehyung,” you panted, weak and quiet. “Stop.” 

He was immediately still, those wide, open eyes looking up at you. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you and you fell, slithering like a slinky from the bed and into his arms. He held you tight, pushed your hair from your face and kissed your forehead. 

“You ok?” 

You looked up at him, blinking hard to stop your vision swimming. He was shiny and sticky all around his mouth, all over his chin. Those deep, autumn eyes all dark now, swirling black, glazed and penetrating. You summoned what strength you could and crashed your lips against him. You could taste yourself on him and you knew he was right. You weren’t the problem. It wasn’t you. And it certainly wasn’t this.  

“Fuck me, please,” you asked, taking his face between your palms. “Please, Taehyung.”  

He started shaking his head, his lip bitten between his teeth. 

“That’s not what- you don’t have to- we don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to. I want to. Please.” 

You twisted in his lap so you were straddling him, his cock leaking against you between your bodies.  

“If you want to,” you added. “I... Only if you want to.” 

He laughed, deep-throated and rich – you could feel it rumble in his chest.  

“Oh I absolutely want to but this is... Are you sure you want to? I mean... You are still with Dickless and this-” 

“Don’t fucking talk about him. I don’t want to think about him. Please, Taehyung.” You pressed another kiss against his lips, insistent, urgent. “I want you. I just want you.”  

He moaned against your mouth, his arms encircling your waist, his tongue encroaching. Then he rolled and lay you down, the carpet surprisingly soft against your skin.  

“I just,” he said, his mouth wandering all over you, slowly making his way down. “I just want one more taste. Please.”  

He looked at you, waiting. He licked his lips and held the bottom one tight in his teeth. You could see him swallow hard, his breathing deep and heavy. You nodded and dropped your head back, keening as he licked through your folds, humming against your clit, smacking his lips as he raised himself back on his hands and knees.  

“I told you you were fucking perfect.”  

You moved backwards, out from underneath his arms and gave yourself carpet burn on your knees as you shuffled to the bedside table, rifling for the box of condoms you kept there. You grabbed the whole thing, crawled back to Taehyung and emptied it onto the floor. He laughed again. 

“Sweetheart, even for me, that is truly ambitious.” 

“Shut up.” 

You fell back, your chest still heaving, your limbs still trembling, as he tore one open and rolled it down his length. He paused, his dick in his hand, held at your waiting entrance and he looked at you. 

“For god’s sake, Taehyung, don’t ask me if I’m sure. Please just please just fuckin- ahh...” 

He didn’t wait for you to finish. He plunged into your soft, wet cunt and moaned. 

“Fuck. Please tell me that feels good.” 

“It feels fucking incredible.”  

He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and lifted, pushing them up and out, keeping hold of them as he began to move. Smooth and fluid, his hips rolled. Your cunt, wet and soft and sweet, held him tight, moulded to his cock, your walls fluttering around him. Heat radiated from your centre, a fire burning there, flames licking up your body. You were so sensitive, close again almost immediately, whimpering with every thrust.  

You grabbed at him, pulling him down, your hand around his neck to bring him closer and closer ’til you could kiss him. Your tongues tangled and the adjusted angle made you moan straight into his mouth. You could still taste the wine, still taste yourself on him and with a shock of remembrance, you whined. This was what you loved; this was what you had been missing. The proof of the pudding: your arousal all over his face made you hot with a sudden rush. Your boyfriend could never be enough. Because it wasn’t just about you and your desire; it was about his, too. And he didn’t have it, not like this. Not like Taehyung. The strangled moans and gutteral groans escaping his throat, the rumble in his chest as he breathed ragged and uneven made you shaky with feeling. Feeling wanted in your entirety. Wanted in your animal mess. Wanted from head to toe. Inside and out. No holds barred. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Fuck, y/n, yeah? Tell me- tell me...”  

He kissed your lips and your cheek, his hand skirting your body and grabbing at your thigh, pushing further, holding tighter, his thrusts faster now, harder, his pelvis tantalisingly close to your clit. You put a hand down between you, circling slowly, your third orgasm bubbling through your veins.  

“You feel so good,” you breathed. “Fuck, so, so-… ah... shit.”  

Already there, your toes curling, Taehyung hissing, cursing as you squeezed him tight inside you, pleasure blazed through you like a forest fire, every inch of you alight and burning, sparking, fireworks bursting all over you, inside you, filling your vision with dizzying colour. Taehyung was gasping, stuttering, his fingers digging into you, his teeth biting hard. 

“Come, Taehyung,” you whispered to him, your voice wobbling, shaking like the rest of you.  

“I w-wanna-” he stammered. “I wa- wan-” 

“No, just come. For me.” 

You brought your mouth to his, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, sucking gently. 

“Oh, fuck.”  

He juddered, thrusting hard as he let himself go, gave himself to you, gave in. He let himself flop against you for a moment, just a moment, and then he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at where you bodies met, still together. He rolled his hips one last time and you mewled, over-sensitive, overwraught. He grinned and pulled back, turning away from you as he took off and disposed of the condom.  

He crawled back to you and pulled you onto your side so you were facing each other. He knocked a leg between yours and traced the curve of your body; you shivered, even his hands feeling like fire against you. He kissed you, once, and then again, and then a third time.  

“You’re perfect,” he said, barely moving his mouth far enough from yours to speak, his words mumbled, muffled. “You’re fucking perfect. You understand?”  

You couldn’t look him in the eye, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly so embarrassed at what you had done. Embarrassed that you had needed this, needed him to tell you that, needed him to show you that you could be wanted how you wanted to be wanted, desired in the way you wanted, fucked like you wanted. You felt small and silly and stupid. That you had cheated on your boyfriend with the most promiscuous man on the planet just because you felt insecure. You shivered, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. You were suddenly cold and tired. Exhausted. Choked with emotions you didn’t want to admit.  

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, softly, his lips against your hair now. “You ok?”  

“I don’t know.” 

Your voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, hardly audible beneath the thumping of your heart. 

“Talk to me...” 

“I feel so stupid.” 

“Why?”  

You had to think it through, carefully, how to say it, how to express it. 

“Because... I needed this. I didn’t know that I-… I-” 

You crumbled, dissolved into tears, embarrassing you further. You wanted to be swallowed whole, to sink into the ground, to dessicate and turn to dust. You couldn’t speak, shame dousing you, drowning you, your hitching, heaving breath barely enough. He let you cry and you were grateful for his patience... again. 

“You w-want me,” you said eventually, your voice thick, choked.  

“Yeah.” 

“You want me and h-he doesn’t. And I- I want to be w-wanted. I'm so... Am I undesirable?” 

“Categorically, demonstrably, absolutely not.” 

“Then why doesn’t he want me?” 

Taehyung held you tighter, pulled you closer, kissed the top of your head and stroked your back.  

“This is why I’ve been telling you to leave him, love. You shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sure he does want you, but if he can’t want you in the way that you want, in a way that makes you feel good, feel desirable, and cherished, and loved, then he shouldn’t have you.”  

He pulled back, holding your face to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs.  

“I want you. Believe me, I want you. I’ve just had you and I want you all over again. You should believe that; you deserve that. Don’t let him break you down. Don’t let him do this to you.”  

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again and he placed his thumb over it and his lips over that. He swiped his thumb across your mouth and kissed you as slowly as he had the very first time, his lips so soft, his mouth so sweet.  

“If you don’t believe me,” he said, his lips just ghosting over yours, his breath washing over your face. “I will happily show you again and again and again just how desirable you are. Just how perfect you are. It’s not hyperbole; you’re fucking perfect to me. I’ll show you.”  

And he did. 

Not just that night or the one after that or the one after that. He showed you repeatedly again and again until you started to believe it. Until you realised that you didn’t need him to show you anymore, just wanted him to. Just wanted him.  

You broke up with your boyfriend two weeks later. It was horrible and he was surprisingly vicious and you were surprisingly upset. But you knew you were right to do it and wished you had just done it earlier.  

y/n: I broke up with him. 

Taehyung: FINALLY 

Taehyung: Guess this means you don’t need me anymore... 

y/n: I didn’t say that. 

y/n: Come over? 

Taehyung: On my way