Somehow, You. | Jungkook Au

jungkook smut audio lol

boyfriend kook <3

Could you do a mb (instagram highlights) with this photo?

1% archive # love

i hope u like it 🤍

Across a Crowded Room

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Strangers-to-lovers, idolverse, smut

Word count: 10.7k

Summary: Dissatisfied and uncomfortable at a party where you don’t belong, in a country where you feel like you don’t belong, you see a man looking at you from across the room. Maybe he’s what you’ve been missing.

Content: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, I guess slight exhibitionism since it all happens up against a window lmao

A/N: Ok, so I 1000000% thought I had re-posted this here already?? but Lia has informed me that I have not and since I got a nice message about it on the old blog, I figured now's as good a time as any to repost!! The start of this fic is literally the first writing I had done for over a decade. I started writing even before I had a writing blog. Then the rest of it was written... last November? ish? idk. anyway, I read this myself the other day and it's alright! ETA: LOL, you can tell it's old because it's written in present tense LMAO

* * *

You tug self-consciously at the hem of your dress; it’s a little too short for your liking, but Hanjae likes you in K-style clothes and, once you’re there, it’ll be fine. It’s always a little nerve-wracking the thought of going to a party where you hardly know anyone, but it always turns out fine. Fun, even. Positive thinking. You sigh and inhale deeply before leaving your apartment and heading down to the car he’s sent for you.

When you first met, you were both taken with each other. He was intrigued by your foreignness and enchanted by your clumsy negotiations in a foreign culture; you were reassured by his confidence and excited by the access he had to hitherto hidden worlds of luxury and indulgence. He wasn’t rolling with Elon Musk or anything (and you’d have had nothing to do with him if he were), but he lived with an ease and security that you yearned for. Which, you suppose, is why you’re still letting him parade you around at parties like this.

It was fun at first. You liked the attention – who wouldn’t? Instead of feeling freakish and out of place, you felt interesting and cherished for your differences. You felt like they were laughing with you when you told funny, embarrassing stories of when you’d got it wrong, or how you do things back home. It felt like people were fascinated by you and you were warmed by their curiosity. You didn’t mind when they reached out to touch your tattoos or asked personal questions, because they didn’t mean any harm. Hanjae gave you a social life that you hadn’t quite managed to create for yourself in this new place and got you out of your apartment, out of your comfort zone, and you clung to that.

Recently, though, you’ve been feeling different. When you show up to parties with him and see his friends you’ve met before, they’re surprised you’re still around. They joke to your face that they would’ve expected Hanjae to have moved on by now. They ask what his parents think (but you have never been introduced to them). They’re not so charmed by you anymore. These friends barely spare you a second thought once they’ve registered their surprise and the attentions of new friends aren’t as welcome as they once were. You started feeling uncomfortable with the way Hanjae paraded you around a couple of weeks ago and now, you’re frankly sick to your stomach. When people reach out to touch you, you flinch away; you don’t tell funny, embarrassing stories because you feel like you’re being laughed at; you stay quiet, for the most part, because your Korean is still not very good and, when they correct you or laugh at your mistakes, you don’t feel like they’re doing it kindly. Standing, mute, next to Hanjae while he laughs and drinks makes you feel like an object, a trophy, an oddity. If Hanjae were a Victorian-era Englishman travelling to the ends of the Earth to ransack a foreign place and bring home stolen goods, you were the buried necklace of an Aztec noblewoman he would give to the eligible girl in the manor house whose hand he is trying to win. He is showing you off because other people are impressed, but you no longer get the feeling that he is.

You hand over your phone and lip balm to Hanjae when you meet him outside the venue; this became a habit early on, so you wouldn’t have to hold a bag and he was happy to keep them in his pockets. Now, it feels a little bit like handing over your freedom.

“Cheer up!” he says as you lean back in your seat. “This’ll be fun, won’t it?” He smiles at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s not a bad guy. He really isn’t. You’re not entirely sure if he even realises what he’s doing with you, if he knows that he doesn’t really like you but the idea of you, if he knows that there’s no future with you, if he’s realised that this relationship is rapidly approaching its expiry date. He’s been extremely good to you and you owe it to him to try. However much you want it to end, you don’t want it to end badly and you don’t want to hurt him; there’s no need for that.

You walk into the party amongst a sea of black suits. You scan the crowd, looking for other women you can compare your outfit to. A terrible thing to do, you know, but your insecurity needs reassurance that you’re dressed appropriately for this event. Hanjae is already leading you over to his friends, two of whom have brought their girlfriends, who are dressed in outfits similar to yours, so that’s something at least. You greet them brightly and Hanjae hands you a drink before launching into a conversation you can’t quite follow. That’s the other thing about these parties; they’re so loud, even if everyone were speaking English, you’re not sure you’d be able to hear them properly, so you hardly stand a chance in Korean. You’ve improved dramatically and can get by in your day-to-day life, but you don’t feel like you’re good enough yet to have a proper conversation, to really talk to anyone. It’s quite a lonely feeling and another reason you’ve spent so much time with Hanjae: he speaks fluent English; although he uses it less and less often these days and he gets more impatient when you need things repeating. You suppose it must be difficult for him, too, having to use a second language so much.

You gaze around the room, looking at nothing in particular. You sip your drink and wonder what everyone else is thinking about. You barely notice the looks you get anymore – most of them are meaningless anyway and people pass their eyes over you before turning back to their friends – but out of the corner of your eye, you see someone looking at you. You don’t recognise him, but you’ve never been very good with faces and the lighting is weird here. You raise your glass and nod slightly; even if you don’t know him, it’s nice to be polite. He looks a little flustered that you’ve noticed and quickly looks away, and then back again and raises his glass a little before turning and walking away. You smile, what a cutie.

*

Your glass is empty and your feet hurt from standing still for so long, so you tell Hanjae you’re going to get another drink. He asks you to get him a whiskey, so you traipse to the bar and order. You hand the drink to Hanjae without a word and wander off; there must be somewhere to sit in this place.

The main room is cavernous and you’re worried there will be no open doors to anywhere else. There is a small group of tables in one corner, but they are all already occupied. You look around as you walk, and suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh, so-“, you start to say, but you realise it isn’t someone; it is a mirror. The whole back wall is mirrored. For a moment, you are completely disoriented and slightly embarrassed, but as you edge along the mirror, you realise that the wall doesn’t reach the other side and the room continues beyond it. As you cross behind the mirror, the din of music and voices is subdued significantly. There’s another partial wall from the other side as though the room is zig-zagging. You’re wary of going too far, but the increasing quiet is soothing. You turn another corner and there’s a bench opposite a large staircase. You immediately sit down along its length and lift your feet. You wonder what the time is and how much more of it you’ll have to kill before you can go home. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Hanjae is a good man and you are very fortunate and suffering from very glamorous problems. A few months ago, you’d have given an arm and a leg to be at a party like this. Be careful what you wish for, you think to yourself.

As you fidget on the bench, you realise you are not alone. There is a man coming down the stairs. You take your feet off the bench and try to look like you’re doing something (what? What could you be doing? There is absolutely nothing to occupy you here!); you settle for just looking awkward. You nod your head and raise a hand as he reaches the bottom.

“Are you ok?” he asks. His hesitance reminds you of someone and you realise with a flash that he is the man who was looking at you earlier.

You clear your throat.

“네. 괜찮아요. 감사합니다,” you answer falteringly, embarrassed at having been caught hiding out. You rise to leave.

“오, 정말요? ……………?”

You don’t understand the second half of what he said and you curse yourself for having answered in Korean; if you’d just spoken English and pretended you didn’t know any Korean at all, this would’ve been much simpler!

“Sorry, I didn’t understand,” you tell him. “갈게요.”

“No, wait,” he cries, with more force than he intended. “You don’t have to leave.” He gestures to the bench. “I was also looking for somewhere quiet.”

He speaks shyly and you assume he doesn’t have much practice at speaking English and don’t have the energy for locking you both into a conversation where neither of you can quite understand the other. On the other hand, it would feel rude to just walk away now. You stand, not leaving but not quite staying, both of you trapped in an awkward moment that seems to last forever.

“You can leave if you want,” he says, finally. “I am going to stay.” He sits on the bottom step and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk- but I can speak English a little bit if you want.”

You slowly return to the bench and sit down. You feel like you should say something, but your mind is blank. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your life; what do people say? Does he even want you to say something? Why was he staring at you earlier? In the same way that everyone else always does or was there a specific reason? You feel your hands start to sweat and you inwardly roll your eyes at yourself and tell yourself to get a grip, literally nothing is happening.

He is looking out of the window and you are staring into the corner on the opposite side; you each take glances at one another, praying the other doesn’t notice. You can still hear the music from the party, quiet in the background, and you wonder if Hanjae has noticed your absence yet; you expect not. You glance at the man opposite you and catch his eye. You both chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m ________,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he answers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“I saw you earlier; I didn’t think we’d met before.”

“No, I’m not really invited to these things,” you explain. “I just tag along with my b-,“ you stop, the word ‘boyfriend’ weighing heavily on your tongue.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Dammit.

“Uh, Kim Hanjae?”

“Ah… Don’t know him.”

“He’s…” How on earth did you get to this subject so quickly? Do you really want to talk about Hanjae to this random man? More to the point, does this random man want to hear about your boyfriend and how you actually don’t want him to be your boyfriend anymore? Doubtful. “He’s nice,” you finish, lamely.

“Just don’t like parties?”

Part of you wishes you had just left when you had the chance. Then you realise how ridiculously you’re behaving; hating the party because no one will talk to you and, now, as soon as someone starts, you want to leave. ‘Get a grip, girl,’ you say to yourself.

“I like parties,” you answer, “but it’s-… I’m-… This-…” You pause as you try to work out how to give an honest answer that isn’t simultaneously dumping all your crap onto him. “These are all his friends; I don’t really know anyone here.”

He nods.

“I have a different problem: everyone knows me and wants to talk to me all the time.” He laughs. “I don’t like big parties. They’re… so much… too much.”

You nod. The two of you lapse into silence again, but it’s more comfortable this time. You’ve broken the ice a little. He seems nice and you feel a pang of sympathy for him: to be a big deal at parties like this sounds exhausting, especially if you don’t even like parties to start with. No wonder he’s hiding out with you.

“It’s hard for me to talk to people at these things,” you tell him. “My Korean isn’t very good and Hanjae doesn’t like speaking English when we’re with his friends because some of them don’t speak it.”

“I think your Korean sounds good.”

You laugh; that was a sweet thing to say given that he’s heard you say all of three words.

“It’s ok, but we couldn’t have this conversation in Korean. Sorry.” You smile weakly and feel pathetic; you knew it would be a process, moving to a new country and learning the language as you go, but you weren’t prepared for how embarrassed and ashamed you would feel all the time about your failings.

“Don’t be sorry!” He grins at you. “I can try my English! But, actually, it is not very good either. Sorry.”

You laugh again. Koreans and their modesty; his English sounds just fine from where you’re sitting.

“Did you move here recently?” he asks.

“About four months ago,” you answer. “I was… looking for something new, I guess. I don’t know… I needed new horizons, new experiences.”

“And how do you think about it now you’re here?”

You wonder if he knows what a loaded question that is. You exhale with a huff. Where to begin?

“It’s been harder than I thought it would be,” you tell him. “I feel very… different. Being looked at so much is not something I was used to… I think Hanjae likes it, but it’s awkward for me. I feel like…”

“An object.”

Your eyes meet and your chest is flooded with the warmth of familiarity. He’ll understand, won’t he?

“When we met,” you start, looking away self-consciously, “he was charmed by my foreignness, y’know? And he liked how different I looked and found it cute when I made mistakes in Korean and didn’t know things. It gave him clout, y’know? Dating a foreigner? I was spoilt by it, the attention; I thought it was for me and when he bought me dresses and took me to parties to show me off, I thought it was because I was special, not just because I was foreign. I loved it at the start.

“I think the appeal is wearing off, though,” you continue, stealing a quick glance to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you patiently, intently, concentrating, probably, on understanding what you’re saying. “He gets annoyed sometimes now when I don’t know things and-“

You tell him everything. Once you start, you find you can’t stop. You don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it, so you vacillate between the two. Jungkook listens, never interrupts; he drinks and nods and keeps looking at you with those huge brown eyes.

“I know it’s over,” you say, resolute. “I just-” you realise it as you say it, “I’m scared that I won’t have anything if I don’t have him.”

He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.

“But you met him in Korea, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you still have the person who moved all the way here to start a new life; that seems like a lot to me.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to burst into tears or fling your arms around him and give him a kiss. ‘Is he looking at me,’ you wonder ‘or staring into my soul?’. You feel seen, seen for the first time in months. You decide then and there that you would walk on hot coals for this man; he’s got you whether he wants you or not. His kindness streams out from him like rays of the sun from behind clouds. Such a bright, young thing, hiding in the dark.

“What about you?” You ask. “You’re hiding back here, too.”

“Ah.” He finishes his drink and places the glass next to him on the step. “I prefer quiet places. I like to keep things small and…-”

“Intimate?”

You blush furiously as he looks at you. That isn’t what you meant and you’re not sure how he’s taken it.

“Yeah, intimate. Big crowds are not my thing.”

“Not when they forget that you’re a person, first.”

He nods.

You stand and move to look out of the window, closer to him. He rises, too, and stands next to you. Your arm is a hair’s breadth from him; you daren’t move.

“Do you like the view?” he asks.

“Actually, I don’t really like a cityscape. I prefer country views.”

“What are the views like where you’re from?”

No one has asked you about home like that. They ask for funny differences between here and there or ask you to debunk or confirm stereotypes, but no one has really cared what you actually think. You smile, picturing in your mind’s eye cloudy, wind-swept beaches, rolling hills, pier arcades, church spires and so much green. You tell him everything. You turn your back to Seoul and, leaning against the glass, describe the house you grew up in and where your grandparents used to live; you describe the places you took holidays when you were a kid and the specific smell of the sea that isn’t the same anywhere else in the world. He’s been to your home country before, but he hasn’t been to your hometown; he asks questions and shows interest and you realise how starving you’ve been. Starved of this sort of attention – focused, interested, penetrating. You’ve had a taste and you want more and more.

You ask him about Seoul; did he grow up here? No, he tells you about Busan in the South. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully about his childhood and his dreams and moving here at such a young age, growing up so far from everything he’s ever known. He’s achieved more than he ever thought was even possible, more than he had ever dreamed, he explains; sometimes he still can’t believe it’s real.

While he talks, you study his face. He’s happy now, but you feel for the scared, little boy thrust into the industry machine before he even knew who he was. Now’s not the time, you know that, but you want to gently crack him open like a soft-boiled egg. Such depth in his eyes, so much soul. You resist the urge many times to put your hand on his arm, hold his hand for a second, reach out and physically touch him somehow. You feel connected to him in such a way that you need it to be physical for a moment, to close the circle, to just… touch.

You’re still standing by the window, deep in conversation, when a man appears from behind the wall and beckons to Jungkook. They talk quickly and Jungkook returns.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Your heart falls.

“Do you want one?”

A wash of relief. You shrug, sure.

“Ok, wait here. I won’t be long.”

He leaves and you turn back to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. You wonder what time it is, where is Hanjae, what’s he doing, is he even still here, has he noticed you’re missing, is Jungkook actually coming back? You take some deep breaths.

With no watch, no phone, and no clock in this dark, little hideaway, you have no way to tell how long Jungkook has been. One minute? Could be ten. You wonder if he’ll make it back to you; after all, he was hiding back here to avoid being grasped in the clutches of all the many, many people out there. Maybe he’s been waylaid. He’s got stuck with a chatterbox who won’t be quiet; he’s got trapped into a business conversation that he can’t leave. Maye he’s seen some friends and is having fun out there.

You sigh, knowing that if he doesn’t come back soon, you’ll have to go out there, too. Hanjae will be missing you, you tell yourself; it’s rude to abandon him completely when he’s the reason you’re even here in the first place. You take a deep, resolute breath and stand, smoothing out your dress. You bump into Jungkook as you round the corner.

“Oh,” he says as he sees you. “Are you going?”

He hands you a drink and you take it, the cold glass sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Uh, well, no, well yes, I was but I didn’t know if you were coming back.” You hope you didn’t sound accusatory.

“I’m sorry, it is hard to avoid people out there,” he replies, continuing around the corner and sitting on the bench. You follow him and he places a hand on the bench, indicating you should join. You feel bad; he shouldn’t have to apologise. You sit next to him on the bench and sip your drink.

“You can go back out there, if you want, you know; you don’t have to stay here with me,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, thank you!” he laughs. “That was enough. Maybe I will show my face again a bit later.”

“Good.” You spoke without thinking and are just about to regret it when he smiles at you.

“Yeah. Good.”

You place a hand down on the bench and he reaches out a finger to touch your bracelet. When you packed your whole life into one suitcase, a lot of brutal cuts had to be made and there are so many parts of your heart at home, abandoned by you, but not this one. It’s a tiny gold chain, with a tiny gold J attached.

“That’s not the letter of your name,” Jungkook says, still studying your bracelet.

“No… No, it’s from my best friend’s name,” you explain. “She gave this to me a long time ago; I like to wear it when I feel like I need her, to feel like I’ve got a little bit of her with me.” You rub your wrist, self-consciously, and wonder what she’s up to right now.

“Does it help?”

“No, not really.” You laugh, a little sad. “It reminds me that there are people in the world who love me, which is nice, but it also reminds me that those people are thousands of miles away.”

“All of them?” His penetrating eyes beam at you and you feel like no matter what answer you give, it’ll be the wrong one. You shrug.

“I thought maybe you told me a fake name before,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t think that would’ve ever occurred to me! Why, do you do that?”

He nods. He smiles but it’s sad, the mirth not reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t get away with it so easily if I wore one of those, right?”

You unclasp the bracelet’s fastening and it slips off your wrist and, taking an end in each hand, hold it out to him. He looks uncertainly at you and you nod. He offers his wrist and you fix the chain in place.

“There’s no getting away from who you really are,” you tell him, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter where you go, ’cause there you’ll always be. He grins. “For tonight.”

“For tonight, I can be your best friend?”

You laugh and nod, thinking, ‘god, can he be my best friend forever?’.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, gently moving the bracelet around his wrist; you wonder what he’s thinking and take a sip of your drink.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence until Jungkook speaks again.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What?”

“In return.” He indicates the bracelet. “I don’t have anything I can give you.” He takes off a ring and considers it. “I think they will all be too big.” He holds it out and you offer up your hand; he slips it onto your index finger and you lift your hand up, swirling the ring around so that it very nearly flies off the tip.

“Too big,” you confirm with a grin.

He pulls his sleeve up to reveal a watch and you notice the tattoos running underneath.

“I think this will not go with your dress, right?”

You nod absently, trying to make out what you’re looking at. You take the edge of his sleeve and lift it a little higher to get a better look and then become aware of what you’re doing and drop it, apologising instantly.

“That’s ok,” he says and he undoes the cuff, rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He turns his arm slowly so you can get a good look (or as good a look as you can manage in the dark light). You nod approvingly.

“That’s why I was looking at you earlier,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I was trying to look at your tattoo.”

Well, that explains the intensity of his focus earlier. You turn so that he can see. You feel, for a second, his hand above your skin and your stomach clenches, praying he won’t touch you like everyone else does: ‘just please don’t let him touch me; please, please don’t let him touch me’. But the touch never comes. You sense his hand moving across your back and down your arm and you twist your head to see his finger, an inch above the skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body back towards him.

“They’re very beautiful.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he answers and you’re struck again by the feeling of being seen and not merely looked at. Neither of you looks away this time. You hold the moment between yourselves, pausing time just for a second. You break the connection and look down, tracing a finger over your bracelet on his wrist. You know it’s only a coincidence that they share the same initial – it’s not exactly uncommon – but something about it feels right.

“Do you want it back?” he asks.

No, you don’t. Not yet. You feel like he’s wearing a part of you while he’s wearing it; he has accepted a part of you as a part of himself. You feel warm in the glow of that tiny, tremulous thread between you. You think, and the thought shocks you, that you would be alright he kept it forever. It’s immensely precious to you, so much so that you brought it with you thousands of miles away into your new life, but, somehow, Jungkook’s wearing it brings more to you, more comfort, more confidence, more certainty in the knowledge that there are people in the world that love you. Love is not diminished when given away, it is doubled. You suddenly wish that you did have something of his you could wear, if only for tonight.

The silence lapses and you talk, nursing your drinks, knowing that one of you will have to leave if either of you needs another. You forget the passing of time and everything outside of this little bubble. It’s the most fun you’ve had at a party for ages.

The man who appeared earlier returns and, once again, beckons to Jungkook. Jungkook stands and goes over to him and they, once again, talk quietly. Jungkook returns and the man remains.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jungkook asks and you feel shattered all of a sudden. You had forgotten all about Hanjae, truth be told, and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame that you’ve spent the whole night away from him, talking to another man. He isn’t my boyfriend, that’s what you wanted to say: he’s definitely not my boyfriend, or even if he is, I don’t want him to be and he won’t be for much longer! Why is Jungkook asking? Whatever bubble you were in has been popped from the inside. A part of you feels heartbroken and a part of you feels betrayed. It was just you and Jungkook; there’s no need to bring anyone else into this.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” you stutter in response. “Probably… somewhere…”. You have no idea where he will be; you assume that he is still here (you hope he is still here because he still has your phone), but who can say for sure?

“Do you want to leave with me?” Jungkook asks and you are stunned into momentary silence.

“What?”

“Do you want to leave with me?” he repeats. “We don’t have to go anywhere; I can take you home if you want, but would you like to leave?”

You feel like that is too many mixed messages to cope with right now so you nod dumbly and stand.

“Hanjae,” you say abruptly as your brain sputters back into gear. “He has my phone and my things.”

“Ok, shall I meet you outside? I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Breathless, you walk as quickly as you can back into the cavernous room, the noise building to a roar, the throng of people overwhelming. You stand on tiptoes and crane your neck, looking for anyone you recognise, cursing the organisers for the dim lighting and all men for their interminably boring black suits which make none of them stand out. You notice movement in your peripheral vision and turn to see a waving arm, beckoning you. It’s not Hanjae; it’s one of his friends.

“Where have you been?” they exclaim as you approach. “Han was looking everywhere for you; thought you must’ve disappeared! Anyway, he had to leave earlier – some work emergency – so he told me to give you these if I saw you.” He hands over your phone, lip balm, and a lipstick you’re sure isn’t yours. “He told you you can order a car if you like, but he won’t be back so you’ll have to get home on your own.”

You see that his friends clearly have no idea of entertaining you or keeping you company for the rest of the evening, which is just as well, given you were about to leave with someone else.

As you make your way outside, you look at the lipstick you were given. You try to think what might constitute a ‘work emergency’ on a Friday night; it’s not like the guy’s a doctor or fire fighter! You try not to let suspicion creep in, because Hanjae has never given you any reason to doubt his fidelity before, but then, you’ve also never considered it, because you’ve never really considered the two of you to be in an actual relationship. Maybe he hadn’t either. And if that’s the case, then there’s no need to be hurt or angered by it. But there is a niggle. There’s something crawling, digging up, trying to plant its seed in your heart. You decide if it’s going to happen at all, it will have to be tonight. As you approach the doorway, you stand to one side and dial Hanjae’s number.

“여보세요?” he answers just as you were about to give up.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the party.”

“Oh. Where did you go? I tried to look for you earlier; I’m not there anymore. I’ve had to come to the office.”

“Yeah, I know; I found Seongyoung and he gave me my phone.”

“Right yeah, yeah.” He sounds distracted.

“So, are you in the office now?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I can’t see you; there’s been a huge mistake and it’s going to take a long time to fix.”

“Please; it’ll be quick. I promise.”

He sighs heavily but agrees. You hang up the phone with a small weight sitting in your stomach.

You turn back to the entrance and walk out, scanning for Jungkook. There are a few dark cars sitting in front of you but you have no idea if any one of them belongs to him. You hesitate, not sure where to turn, standing awkwardly in front of drivers and security officers. A door on one of the cars opens and a hand waves; you approach and Jungkook beams up at you from inside.

“Quick!” He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you in. He speaks quickly to the driver in Korean and turns back to you. “Are you alright?”

“Um, actually, can we go somewhere?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I… have to do something. It won’t take long, please.”

“Of course, that’s ok. Where do you want to go?”

You give him the address of Hanjae’s office building and he relays it to the driver. You sit, slightly on edge, compulsively flicking the edge of your phone case off and on, off and on. The building isn’t far and you sit in silence while Jungkook hums along to the radio. You are barely even aware of what song is playing. The driver slows and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Just give me like, five minutes. I’ll be quick,” you say as you open the car door.

“It’s ok; you can take as long as you like. I will wait.”

You wonder what Jungkook thinks you are doing, where he thinks you are. You wonder if he knows. Part of you assumes he does, since he seems to intuitively understand so much about you. You enter the building and approach the reception desk. The woman behind it barely looks up as she opens the barrier to let you in. You’re not sure if she recognises you from times you’ve been here before or just does not care about her job. If you had to man a reception desk in an almost entirely empty building on a Friday night, you probably wouldn’t care much either. As you call a thank you to her and walk past, the lipstick suddenly flashes into your mind. Could it be hers? You suppose it could be. It could be anyone’s. It might not have anything to do with Hanjae at all. Maybe Seongyoung handed you his girlfriend’s lipstick by mistake. Maybe not. It won’t matter soon.

You reach Hanjae’s floor and can see him in his glass-walled office: jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up, standing and on the phone. You walk with purpose to his door and wave. He gestures for you to come in, so you stand inside the door and wait for his conversation to end.

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his phone on his desk.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” you begin, your resolve holding firm for now.

“Right now? I really don’t have time-“

“I said I’d be quick and I meant it.” If you aren’t quick, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it.

“Ok then, shoot.”

You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say. None of the words sounded right; you wanted to be clear and direct but kind at the same time; is it even possible to tell someone kindly that you don’t want them to be in your life anymore? You clench and unclench your fist and decide to rip the plaster straight off.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t think we should be together. I think we should end things. This is over.” The words tumble out without your being able to stop them. Hanjae’s eyebrows raise and he looks surprised.

“Oh.”

He looks a little dumb-founded but you had expected him to say more and aren’t sure what to do now. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, waiting for something else to happen. You haven’t actually broken up with anyone before so you’re not sure how this usually goes.

“Can I ask why?”

“We’re not a good fit.” You hope that this will suffice but you know it won’t satisfy him.

“What does that mean? Don’t we have fun together? Don’t we like each other?” Ay, there’s the rub.

“Actually, I don’t really think you do, no.” You try to explain to him all the things you’ve been feeling recently; you try not to blame him for any of it because you don’t want this to turn into an argument; you tread as carefully as you can but you’re so desperate for this to be over now it’s started that you can’t stop your mouth running on and on.

“You’ve given me so much and I’m so grateful to you for that and I really value all the time we have spent together and I do think you’re a nice person and I don’t want to hurt you but… well, this is how I feel.” You feel a little breathless as you come to a stop. Hanjae doesn’t say anything for a while and you can’t read his face. You don’t know what he’s thinking and the longer the silence lasts, the sicker and sicker you feel.

“I’m sorry that you feel that my attention has been so unwelcome,” he finally answers, speaking slowly and coldly. “I don’t really know what else I could have done to show you that I value you: I buy you things, take you places, I introduced you to all of my friends, I show you off; is that not loving? You say you don’t even think I like you, but if that’s true, why would I bother to see you? Why would I waste my time with you if I didn’t? I hadn’t, until now, considered our time together a waste, but it seems as though my efforts have been just that. You’ve been feeling this way for weeks, have you? Well, why are you here, then? Why did you come tonight at all if all of my friends ignore you and all of my attention is so unwanted? If the time we spend together makes you feel so awful, why have you waited this long to say something? You disappeared very early this evening; I tried looking for you everywhere. You said you were getting a drink and then I didn’t see you again. Perhaps it’s not that my attention is unwanted but that you’ve found someone else whose attention you prefer? Were you just putting up with me for long enough to find a higher roller, someone richer, or more famous perhaps? Am I a step on your ladder to the top? You have never, until tonight, given me a reason not to trust you, but you have to admit that this is rather out of the blue and your behaviour at the party was… not very polite. You abandoned me-“

You scoff at that, unable to stop yourself. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. Hanjae raises his eyebrows and waits for you to explain yourself. You’ve no idea how. You say nothing. You’re the first to break eye contact and you look at the ground, then the window, the desk, anywhere but Hanjae’s face.

“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way. What a horrible boyfriend I was to you, to treat you to presents and dinners and parties, to be so impressed by you that I want to show you off to everyone I know, to speak English with you and help you with Korean, to help you get settled in, to give you a social life, to show you what Seoul has to offer, what I have to offer, to never treat you like-“

“A person. You didn’t treat me like a person, Hanjae. I’m not a prize to show off; I’m a person first, not an object.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. How can you get him to understand?

“Oh, I objectify you?” It is his turn to scoff. “And yet I am the one who has been used.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“No, I- it’s- we- I-“

“Whatever, you can leave now.” He turns his back on you and picks up his phone again. He turns around with the phone to his ear and nods at the door, shooing you away. You turn around and leave the office on trembling legs. As soon as you step into the lift to go back down, the tears come. You’re not even sure why you’re crying; you wanted this after all. It was just horrible. You feel sticky with sweat all over, and shaky with the stress of it. You know that Hanjae isn’t right, saying those things about you, and he was lashing out defensively, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe he is a little bit right. You said yourself that he’s given you so much, access to things and people and places you wouldn’t have had otherwise; you said yourself that you enjoyed that. Maybe you are in the wrong, at least a little bit. You both are, you suppose. You exit the lift and walk briskly out of the office, not turning to look at the receptionist on your way out in case she sees you crying. You step out of the door and hide behind a pillar, catching your breath, drying your tears and trying to put on a happy face. Leaning against the cold stone of the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“____?”

Shit. Jungkook is right there in front of you, looking concerned.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You stand up straight and give yourself a body shake. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You can’t think of much worse than going home to your poky apartment to spend the rest of your night miserable and alone.

“No… Can we, can we get a drink? Do you want to get a drink?”

Jungkook grimaces slightly. “Ah, that’s kind of difficult for me. I can’t really just go to a bar on a Friday night, y’know?”

Your heart sinks; of course he doesn’t want to go to a bar with you.

“We could have a drink at my house, if you want?” he offers.

Your heart rises. God, yes, please.

You drive back to Jungkook’s apartment in silence. The presence of the driver makes you feel somehow inhibited, self-conscious. You feel conspicuous, even though you’re sure the driver couldn’t care less about who you are or what you’re doing there. He’s just doing his job. You, nevertheless, don’t want to say anything yet, not until you’re alone with Jungkook. He’s scrolling on his phone, and you take the opportunity to study him more closely. His face changes with the changing light: suddenly brightly lit as you stop at traffic lights under a lamppost, then hidden in shadows. He has a kind face, open and bright, deep, soft eyes… You wanted to reach out a finger to trace his profile, the line of his lips, study him as if you were about to embark upon a masterpiece of him. Not that you would be able to capture his spirit if you tried. There’s a light in his eyes that seems to lie so deeply within them but shine so close to the surface.

You can’t work out what you’re feeling – too much, honestly. You need a minute to step back, step out of yourself – out of your life – to sort through everything that had happened. You feel a little as though you have accidentally stepped on a travelator and things are moving faster than you can keep up with. You wonder if you’ll regret any of this in the morning, if sleep will clear your mind and show your actions up as mistakes. You hope not. You think not. You catch the glint of your bracelet, still around Jungkook’s wrist and you nod to yourself. No, this – if this alone – is not a mistake.

When you arrive at Jungkook’s building, he shows you in and your mouth gapes. This was much bigger than Hanjae’s place. Wow. Just how famous was this guy? You are reminded forcefully of how little you actually know about him, whatever your feelings might be saying.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, crouching in front of a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal all manner of spirits and liquors.

“Oh, anything,” you answer, without thinking. He laughs and you’re embarrassed by your answer but making another decision at this point feels impossible. You feel like a swan, calm on top, but flailing wildly underneath. You begin to think that maybe you should have let Jungkook take you home, so you could’ve gone to bed, or stared out of the window blankly until the sun rose. He’s too stimulating. Questions constantly rise to the surface of your mind like bubbles in boiling water: what’s his family like? What’s his favourite film? What’s his favourite food? Is he single? What’s he thinking? What does he want out of life? He’s already achieved his career dream so what’s his next dream?

He hands you a glass and you take a sip without even looking. It’s strong, good. You follow Jungkook to the sofa and flop onto it, thankful to be sitting comfortably. He asks if the drink is ok and you just nod and take another sip. You’re torn with conflicting desires: to stare at him endlessly, to fall into his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to tell him everything, to listen to him tell you everything, to kiss him, to never kiss him, to be his best friend, to fall in love with him, to fall in love with him and love him from afar from the rest of your life. It’s exquisite, the confusion, the keenness of your muddled feelings. You wonder briefly if you are just drunk but shake the thought from your head: you haven’t had that much to drink.

You drink in silence for a while and when you’ve finished, you stand. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you wander over to the bookcase, full of not books but DVDs and figurines. You scan the titles, your eyes not really seeing. They linger on a small figurine of a tiger at the edge of a shelf. You pick it up.

“Year of the tiger?” you ask, brandishing the figure at him.

“It is.” He stands and comes closer to you, taking the tiger in his hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. 24 years old, you were born two tigers ago. You take the figure back and wiggle it in his face. He laughs.

“I’m an ox,” he says, kneeling down. He opens the door of a little cabinet and reveals figurines for each of the zodiac animals. You laugh picking them up and inspecting them. He takes the ox from the cupboard and the tiger from your hand and puts them both back on the bookshelf. Feeling silly, you move the tiger and make a sound that’s neither quite a roar nor a meow as though the tiger is talking to the ox. Jungkook laughs and responds in kind, lowing deeply as he turns the ox towards the tiger. This is the sort of nonsense you need to lift you from the deep water of your confused feelings.

You move to the window as Jungkook refills your glass. It’s probably a good view that he probably paid a lot of money for but you can’t be enamoured with so many lights and so much modern architecture. You can just barely make out the dark shape of the mountains beyond and you smile; that’s more like it. Jungkook joins you at the window. You talk quietly; you don’t want to tell him that you broke up with Hanjae, because it implies something that you don’t really want to imply, but it comes out in the course of conversation and you actually feel relieved. You don’t know what Jungkook feels about it, if anything, but he seems pleased for you. You feel like everything is so fragile, delicate, precarious. You stay talking at the window for what feels like hours (maybe it is) because you feel that to move will be to ruin the moment somehow, force a shift in the atmosphere that you don’t want.

Your eyes settle on the gold chain at his wrist and your fingers reach out for it, toying with it. Jungkook’s hand moves, into yours, his fingers dancing on your palm. You flick your eyes back to his and he’s smiling at you, shy and sweet. You let him take your hand and suddenly it’s a handshake and you’re snorting, laughing, leaning towards each other as your shoulders shake. You lean your head on his shoulder as your breath comes back and Jungkook moves his hand to waist, pulls you closer to him.

He’s still smiling when you lift your head to look at him and you’re staring back at him, wide-eyed and unsure. He pulls you closer still, his arm snaking around your waist and he kisses you without hesitation. His lips are soft but he isn’t; he’s sure and confident and he brings his thumb to your chin to gently press down, gently open your mouth and let him inside. You’re responding before you’ve had the opportunity to think. Your hands grab at the collar of his shirt and you move against him, a leg between his legs, his bottom lip between your teeth. You’re dizzied and light-headed, grateful to the cool glass at your back and Jungkook’s arms secure around you.

When he pulls back, with apparent effort, he rests his forehead on yours, nudges your nose with his and looks at you from under his thick, dark lashes.

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says, his voice hushed in the silence of the apartment, and then he barely brushes his lips against yours again, as if he just can’t help himself.

If you were confused earlier, you aren’t anymore. The world around you has faded to a fuzzy, black blur, eclipsed by the soft bloomings of want in your chest.

“I’ve wanted you to do that all night,” you whisper back, aware only as you’re saying it that it’s true. You have wanted him to do that. You want him to do it again and then a whole lot more.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, lightly, gently.

“I don’t usually do this,” he says, eyes alighting on yours for only a second before he’s looking at your lips again. “It’s not… This isn’t like me but…”

“I know,” you reply. “Me, too.”

“I feel…”

“Something.”

“Yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat when he looks at you and the world holds its breath; you almost feel time slow down, the seconds that it takes for his hands to fall from your face, glide down your body, and encircle you again stretch into minutes. The distance between your lips – not even inches – stretches far into the horizon. You almost feel each of the chambers of your heart squeeze, a rush of warmth heating your cheeks, your chest, your core.

And then his lips are on you and you’re like a Catherine wheel, spinning and sparking and wild. Time snaps back like an elastic band and you’re frantic now, all hands and lips and tongue.

You slip your fingers into his shirt, flicking open the buttons, running your hands over his body, soft and supple and flushed. His hands push your dress higher and higher, over the slope of your hips and he lifts you, pushing you against the glass and pushing his body into yours. You can feel the arousal pooled at your core and you can feel him straining against his trousers. You’re wet like you’ve been waiting all night for it, like you’ve been anticipating this very moment since you first laid eyes on him. You push his shirt to the floor, watching it float down like a white flag of surrender: surrendering yourself to him, he to you, to this, whatever this is or could be.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

Soft whispers tumble from you as Jungkook’s fingers slide past your underwear and press into your wet heat. Your cunt squeezes against them and your hips cant towards him as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your whimpering, whining, mewling barely drowns out the squelch of his fingers working inside you, arousal dripping down his hand. You’re climbing steadily to your peak, moaning against his mouth as he rolls his tongue with yours. You pull on his hair, his head tipping back, his throat exposed. He looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Then he grins, thrumming faster, pressing harder and you’re squirming. You let go of his hair to clutch around his shoulders, holding on hard as your own head tips back, thudding against the glass.

Jungkook brings his face close to yours and nudges your nose with his, gently guiding your attention back to him. He holds your gaze as your legs quiver and shake, as your breath hitches and you close your eyes, so, so close now.

“Look at me.” His voice is low, soft, but demanding. “I want to see you… I want you to look at me when you come.”

And you do. Your eyes don’t leave his as you fall apart in his arms, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning strike. You’ve barely finished before he’s crashing his lips into you, urgent and needy and then suddenly neither of those things. He slows. He removes his fingers from your soaking wet slip and he holds you close to him, just barely grinding his hips into you. His kiss is deep, languorous, like he’s really tasting you now. The quiet moan he makes as his tongue rolls with yours makes your heart skip a beat and you’re weak. So weak that, when he drops you, lightly, your feet returning to the floor, you almost stumble, almost fall. But he’s got you.

He pushes your dress back down, smoothing it out so he can unzip it. He finally breaks your kiss as he pulls it from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms. You’re braless and goosebumps sprinkle all over your skin, your nipples shivering to attention. You run your hands through Jungkook’s hair as he dips his head, lowers himself to kiss your neck, your chest, to run his tongue up the underside of your breast and suck your tight little bud into his mouth. The glass at your back is cold but he is so warm in front of you.

He drops to his knees, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them to the floor. You step out and he flings them away.

“I want to make you come again.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are wide, imploring, asking, seeking, searching and it’s all you can do to just nod. You’ve had one-night stands and hook-ups and situationships and even boyfriends who haven’t said that to you, who haven’t cared enough to try for one, let alone more.

He’s still looking at you when he puts his mouth on you and runs his tongue through your folds. You let your head fall back again, eyes to the ceiling. Jungkook grunts, the vibration against you a little shock. You look back down at him and he nods, swirling his tongue around your clit, and you understand: he wants you to look at him, he wants to see you and wants you to see him seeing you, as you have all evening. Because he does. See you. He sees you like no one else has. You can already feel it bubbling up within you. You can sense his soul reaching out to yours as yours reaches back to him. You think to yourself that you would probably have fallen in love with him even if he weren’t so good at—

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

He’s fucking you with his fingers again with his mouth sealed around your clit, the soft plane of his tongue pressing against it, sucking and then lapping. You grab onto his hair, hard, grounding you, something, anything to tether you to this world as you feel yourself floating away.

He groans and you understand his instruction, having to drag your eyes back to his. His brows are furrowed, eyes shining bright. Looking into his eyes at this moment is like falling into an abyss. Tumbling and twisting, your body writhes with pleasure, shuddering against the window as you come again, a cry strangled in your throat, legs shaking and then you’re literally falling, sliding down the glass. Jungkook follows you down, his fingers still pressing against you as he kisses up your stomach, your chest, and then he’s holding you. You’re in his arms and he’s kissing you, your own arousal all over his lips and his tongue.

“You ok?” he asks, his voice thick and low.

You couldn’t speak. Could only take his face between your palms and kiss him again. He lifts you up into his lap, so you’re straddling him, knees either side of his hips, and you can feel him, pressing against his trousers, trapped and tensed. You sit down a little further and roll your hips over him; he groans into your mouth and his hands on your glutes squeeze tight.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he whispers your name back. “Please.”

He lifts you from his lap and kneels up, hands working at his belt and his zip. He stands to shuck them down his legs and kicks them off. You look up at him and ask,

“Do you have…?”

He nods, crossing the room to his wallet on the sideboard by the door. You press your hands against the cool glass of the window, but rather than cooling you, it warms, too. There is heat all over you, burning around you.

Jungkook returns and falls to his knees, condom in hand. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he stands once more to push them all the way down and off. You giggle, reaching out for him, rising on your knees as he slides the rubber over his length. He pulls you to your feet and cages you in against the window, lips capturing yours.

He bites down on your lower lip and you can feel him at your entrance. He’s rubbing his length along your slick slit and you’re whimpering, walls fluttering, heart racing. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eye as he pushes into you. A soft gasp leaves you and your hands circle tight around his biceps. You can feel him slow, his eyes watching you carefully now.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop. It feels good. Please.”

He continues, still slowly, and, when he’s all the way in, he kisses you again, pressing his body against yours.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, but whatever you were about to say disappears into a moan as he drags his cock out and then pushes back in. He moans back and brings a hand to your breast, his thumb rubbing light circles against your pert nipple. You’re already not sure how you’re still standing and then he lowers his lips to your neck and sucks at just exactly the right spot. Your legs tremble and your cunt quivers and you feel his hot breath against your skin as he chuckles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

He says no more and his lips return to the sweet spot on your neck. You cling to him, gripping tightly, every pass of the head of his dick against your g-spot a test of your strength, fading rapidly as you start to drown in him. He thrusts deep and slow with little grunts of effort, like he’s holding back.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Yes?”

He’s looking at you again and, up close like this, he takes your breath away.

“I want more. More. I-… I can’t stand, but I wan—oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s grabbing you, his hands at the backs of your thighs lifting you, taking all your weight onto him. You wrap your legs around him and he moves faster now, harder, looking down at where he disappears into you. He’s more vocal, louder, as he fucks you into the window and the sound of him, his pleasure, his pleasure in you, stirs you. You’re fucked out and weak but your desire renews your force. You squeeze your walls against him and he curses.

“Shit.”

You do it again and a tiny chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“Baby, you are dangerous. You’re—fuck, hngh—you’re going to make me come.”

He’s panting and breathy and his hair sticks to his forehead. You wrap you arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, his jaw, bite at his earlobe.

“Isn’t that the point?” you whisper.

A shudder runs through him and he growls, his grip on you tighter, even painfully tight. You pull back to look at him and his eyes are black, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. But he’s still looking at you; his eyes aren’t glazed, aren’t elsewhere, aren’t looking through you. He’s seeing you and you feel naked but not afraid, not exposed. You hold his face and kiss him and he grunts, groans; it’s open-mouthed and sloppy, your breath mingling as your tongues slide past and over each other.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and his stare is so intense, from that alone you would know he was close. He’s cursing lightly, repeatedly, fucking you hard, and then he’s coming, too, with a shudder and an animal groan, guttural and low.

He lowers you both down to the floor and lays you down, kissing you lightly, almost politely, as he brushes your hair from your face. He turns away and stands, disposing of the used condom and grabbing the blanket from the sofa. You just watch him return to you, settling next to you on the floor, covering both your bodies.

You look at the window where your heat and sweat have condensed in an already fading cloud. You laugh and point it out; he laughs, too.

“It’s almost gone already,” he says, watching it shrink, disappear, self-effacing.

You hum. This is usually when you’d feel awkward, make a show of being polite, get up and go but you don’t want to leave; you want to stay right where you are and watch the sun rise with him. You want to yawn and stretch yourself like a cat before curling against him and sleeping through the morning. You want to kiss him both goodnight and good morning. You look at him looking at the window and imagine an entire life with him, spanning years and decades in a second. Your heart beats heavy in your chest and you wonder if he can feel it, if he feels it, too.

When he finally looks back at you, you know. He kisses you like you’re precious, gently traces the shapes of your face with featherlight fingers. You shiver and he pulls you closer into his warm body, pulls the blanket tighter around you.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing to kiss you again. “I’m really glad I went to that party.”

jennie k. ─ enchanted : スマル

ㅤ 𑄽୧ ♡ ɑ𝗇𝗀ᧉ𝗅Ꭵ𝖼

JIMIN Set Me Free pt. 2 (2023)

Release | KTH

One Shot

Description: Reader is really horny and needs to cum, only one person can make her, her ex boyfriend. So she finds herself at his apartment begging for him to fuck her.

Warnings: Porn with little plot, begging, oral (f receiving), degradation, titty sucking, choking, rough sex, orgasm denial (f), multiple orgasms (m), powerhouse Taehyung (iykyk), putting reader in place, sexy Taehyung, mention of shower sex.

A/N: here goes nothing.... With my first smut.

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It had been 2 months since your break up. Two months since you orgasmed. No you didn't have sex with anyone else because you already knew it'd end up in you being disappointed.

You were ruined by Taehyung, being together in a healthy sexual relationship for so long does that to you.

You were over jealous that day when a girl offered to pour him a drink and he accepted it.

Never apologized to you, never came back, didn't text but fuck it. Fuck everything.

You reached out your hand to press the bell outside his apartment, it was almost 3 am and you were craving his touch.

So much that you think you'd die. You heard the rustling behind the door, didn't know how he'd react seeing you after this long.

Didn't know if he wanted you to be there or not, you were ready to beg. For him to take you in. Love you, spoil you, touch you, fuck you.

You fiddled with your t-shirt, a grey one with grey trousers and black sneakers.

It was 3 am after all. The door opened and your heart hammered inside your chest at the sight of him.

Gorgeous, dark black messy hair falling slightly over his eyes and slightly loose black t-shirt and trousers. Fuck.

"Are you okay?", He asked startled to see you this late. His mind wandering to multiple possibilities never too close to the reason you were actually at his doorstep.

"No?", You said more like questioned as he stepped aside and you entered. You can talk to him.

Talk about shit, everything. But your body ached for him. You faced him after he closed the door. He was so hot.

Gorgeous. Handsome. Beautiful. Ethereal. Unreal. Flawless.

"What hap-", He was cut off when you stepped forward pressing your body to his, pressing your lips on his.

Fuck his pretty mouth can talk to you later.

Your hands went around his neck, pulling him closer and closer. He was quick to catch you in his arms, his huge hands going around your back pressing it to pull you closer.

You were weak, vulnerable. His slight action made you whimper in his mouth.

Taehyung groaned when his crotch pressed into your lower abdomen and you felt his hardness. He just woke up after all.

"Please Taehyung fuck me, I can't"- You took a step back taking off your t-shirt and then continuing. "Take it anymore".

Taehyung's gaze landed on your breast, he sucked in a breath. You must've taken a cab to come here.

Your nipples were already hard. You were in a cab with no bra as you came here. Taehyung thought and found it so hot.

Two months he had been craving to see you and here you were equally if not more eager to let him fuck you.

"Ah baby wanna get fucked? Is that the problem? Is that why you're here at fucking 3 am?", Taehyung asked, his voice getting deeper. Eyes getting hazy as he pulled you in by your hair and kissed you hard.

You were equally eager, matching his pace, his hand roaming on your body as he pulled away and squeezed your left boob a little harshly.

"Say it", He said pressing you on the wall making you gasp.

"Yes, please", You murmured, taking off your shoes trying to get as close as possible.

The familiar cologne, his scent, his touch, his body. You had it right now.

"Fuck, you threw us all away though", Taehyung mocked pulling your body to his making you whine as he pulled you in his embrace walking to his bedroom.

"'M sorry baby, please just make me cum", You cried out when he threw you on the bed and pulled on your trousers, completely naked.

"Yeah? Aren't you just being greedy?", He said standing tall over your laying frame as he pulled up his t-shirt giving you the view you desired to see.

Then he comes to you. (Like he's doing in the gif)

His hand is tracing up your thighs making your body warm, pussy wet, back buckled.

You swear you could cry, and he didn't even touch your clit yet.

"Do you want it here?", Taehyung asked pressing his index finger on your clit making you moan.

"P-please", You moaned out feeling the pressure that was increasing as he rubbed your slit up and down. Up and down.

Making you whine and moan but not doing anything else. "You are so fucking wet darling", Taehyung mused making you shudder.

Taehyung suffered too, you were childish. Throwing away everything for something that could've been solved through simple talk and Taehyung smirked enjoying how you came to him.

He didn't imagine it to be this way. You were always reserved but here you were moaning out his name as he pressed his lips on your clit and entered two fingers inside without a warning.

"Fuck, so full Tae -ah-", You murmured, you moaned. Pressing his head further into your cunt as he pumped his fingers in and out his other hand cupping your boob making you whine out.

"So good", You moaned as his fingers curled around your g spot, his tongue rolling around your hole tasting you and just when you were about to let go he pulled back.

"Taehyung what the fuck", You choked out as he looked at you with a smirk getting up and pulling his trousers down.

"You think you'd come to me after months like an irresponsible greedy whore and I'd do what you want", He hissed taking his huge thick length in his hands as you breathed out heavily just staring at him grieving due to the loss of your orgasm.

He pumped himself once, twice.

"I'll do anything", You whispered and he climbed over you looking into your eyes intensely.

"Anything you say", He said pushing himself inside you in an instant making you gasp.

"Taehyung fuck", You said and he groaned.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight, no one fucked you good when I wasn't there huh?", He rambled, your hands roaming over his body settling on his back when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in.

"Ah, you fuck you got bigger", You moaned pulling his head and kissing his lips as he started thrusting into you.

Fast and hard thrusts making your body rub roughly against his bedsheet as the bed creaked.

"My girl, my pussy, my fucking cunt", Taehyung growled pulling up your right leg to put over his shoulder pushing his dick further in filling you completely.

"Ah fuck I'm gonna"-

"Hold it", Taehyung said, the authority in hsi voice made you shiver. His thrusts never stop. He was pounding into you.

And you loved every single touch of him. You missed this. You missed him.

You missed him fucking you like this.

"I can't anymore ah", You cried out fisting his bed sheet as his hand found your neck.

"Hold", He simply said and after a few thrusts came inside you, filling you up completely and then pulled out, leaving you hanging on the brink.

You had tears in your eyes.

"You're so mean", You whimpered a few tears escaping your eyes out of all the frustration. The build up in your stomach reduces to nothing as your pussy aches for more.

You sobbed as Taehyung smiled.

"Aw my poor innocent baby, thought she could get what she wanted after putting me through shit for two months", Taehyung cooed kissing your cheek making you whimper. His hands drawing circles on your waist as he sucked on your neck.

"Taehyung, I please. Please please please let me -ah- cum", You said in between sobs as he marked you going lower until he had your nipple in his mouth.

He rolled the other one around in his hand, rolling, pinching, squeezing.

"Please fuck me!?", You asked again softly, innocently. It catches Taehyung's attention as he looks at you. Your hazy brown eyes. Slightly teary, desperate asking for you to fuck him.

"Good girl, let me do that, hm?", He murmured holding the underside of your knees and pressing them to your chest and just stared at your cunt for a while.

"Baby you're leaking out so much", Taehyung ended the sentences while entering you.

"Fuck", You squeezed your eyes shut, your cunt sucked him in again as he started thrusting again.

"My little cock slut, so greedy", Taehyung sighs thrusting deeper and harder making his cum leak out of your pussy as you moaned.

"Please just please", you choked out, had no idea what you wanted now that he gave everything to you well except for an orgasm.

"Fucking cunt was made for me, huh? The audacity to take it away", Taehyung growled completely in control, your legs shaking from the pressure he was putting on them.

Just when your squeezes get tighter, moans become higher and all senses of sanity fly out of your mind Taehyung stops and pulls out, pumping himself a few times and comes over your waist leaving you hanging. Again.

-

"Please please let me cum this time, please Taehyung", You cried begging in hopes that he'd listen to you.

"Mhm, my slut thinks she deserves to cum", Taehyung mused pounding hard into your cunt having already cum four times inside you.

You were shaking and trembling and sore but you needed to cum.

"Fuck", Taehyung whined cumming into you and pulling out again making you cry.

"Please", You almost scream from the frustration so Taehyung put 3 fingers in your cunt.

"Cum", He said pumping into you cunt.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And you came, harder than you've ever done, letting go.

The ache disappearing but Taehyung didn't stop. The pleasure took you over the moon as you moaned more.

"Holy shit baby, give it to me. So weak for me", He said and you realised what was happening you squirted. Your moaning didn't stop, letting out a shaky sigh when you were done.

"You are mean", You said to Taehyung after a while of catching your breath. He sat you on his lap kissing your eyes and tear strained cheeks, rubbing your back.

"Mm, deserved", He murmured into your lips kissing you softly tracing your thighs that doesn't look like they'll stop shaking.

"I'm sorry for everything", You sighed simply leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I know, you could've cummed but held on, did so well for me. My good girl", Taehyung said kissing your neck and then carrying you up.

"I'll sort out the sheets, you turn on the shower, will be right back", Taehyung smiled kissing your cheek and you smiled back turning on the shower and setting it on mildly warm.

Taehyung joined you after a good ten minutes.

"Missed you", You said wrapping your hands around him making him smile.

"Mhm, I know", He said turning you around, pressing your front on the wall and aligning his dick on your entrance.

"Taeh-", You gasped when he entered.

"Be a good girl and we'll cum together, yeah?", Taehyung murmured and you just moaned getting ready for another round.

' ⠀⠀⠀𓂃 SYMBOL PACK !

◯ 𓏸 ﹒ 👚 ﹒ ⌑ ﹒

⅄ 　 ◌ 　🪡 ˖　 (´-﹏-`)

♩ ˚ 🪞 ﹗ ⏆ ˚ ﹒ 🛋 ❁

⏆ ˚ ﹒ 🌐 𝗃𝗂𝗎𝗇𝗀 ˖ !

( ♡² ) ﹗

𓏸  ．  🐌    ☓   ．  ﹢     👡   ﹒

𝟷𝟿 𝟶𝟹 𝟿𝟾

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% # ⏆   ．  ﹢

🎧 ﹐ ♡﹒ ﹒ ᶻ

🎪﹒✹﹐﹐％﹒✿

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; ﹢ ⌑ ﹒ 👷‍♂️ ━ 𝗥.𝗟 ५ ՙ

👥 ᳝࣪ 𓏲 ֶָ ャ 🫂 !

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𖥻٬٬ ‹𝟹 :: ⭑⭒  🚎 !!   𓏲   ⚠︎

★ ! ⠀ ᵎᵎ ‹𝟹 ∿ ᰔ

⠀#⠀★ clc!　💉　zZz　#　✿

碩. ՙ 𝙟 𓈒 ᕬ ˒ 宇 ◠ 𝚠 ·

𓍢 𝗵 — 이! ‹𝟹 ⠀ ； 𝗉𝗍𝗴 ⌁

𝗥.⠀🧸⠀ᨈ⠀⠀爱.⠀ ⠀ฅ⠀!

⋒⠀⠀⌕⠀﹕ 𖥻⠀ ⠀레.⠀﹅

🥞⠀𖦹⠀⩇⩇⠀ᵎ⠀⠀𓂃⠀⠀◖⠀ℛ.⠀ᨂ

⠀ ⠂⠀𖥦⠀♥︎⠀诺.⠀𓄹⠀ 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗹.⠀ᰔ

𝘄.⠀⠀南˝⠀⠀🛵⠀⠀𓈈⠀⠀¿¿⠀⠀𝗉𝗂𝗇𝘬.

໑ — 𝟢𝟢! ﹪ 𓄹 𝗼. ⟆ ♡

warm up || jjk

⤷ summary: when you help him warmup

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 2.1k

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, established relationship au

⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, idol!jk, porn with some plot, the other members make a small appearance

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: fingering, kissing/making out, nipple sucking, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), big dick jk, soft dom jk, rough & soft sex, creampie

↬ a/n: this was inspired by this request so @kloserpeenguintiljk I hope I delivered! & to everyone who reads hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! angel xoxo

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

"Kook, I don't think we should," you insist while trying to pull your hand away from your boyfriend's grasp in resistance.

He ignores you, still dragging you down the hallway to his hotel room. You press your heels into the floor to keep from moving forward, achieving no success due to the man's strength. But you continue with your plea,

"What if the guys get angry with you?"

He looks back at you over his shoulder with a quirked brow, "Get mad at me for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend?"

"No, get mad at you for skipping practice," you say.  

It is the first time you have joined the guys on tour. When Jungkook asked you to come, the decision was easy; you would rather be with him than be apart for months. There is no debate about that. But you are beginning to worry if you are more of a distraction to him than anything.  

He should be downstairs for rehearsal with the rest of the group in the hotel's banquet hall, where they are currently staying. Yet here, the main vocalist is dragging you to his room for a quickie, even though it never is quick with Jungkook.   

"I'm not skipping practice; I'm just going to show up a little late," he shrugs. "Plus, I have over ten years in this career. I think I have earned that."

"I just don't want everyone to blame me for being here and having you run off," your bottom lip juts out in a pout.

You reach in front of the door to his room; he lets go of your hand to unlock it before turning around to face you. Jungkook steps forward to close the distance, his thumb gliding over your lip.

"No one is going to blame you. So put this back in your mouth." His tone is soft, his lips barely brushing against yours.

You comply, but a frown stays as you look up at him through your lashes. He grins at you and cups your face to give you a peck on the lips before reaching for one of your hands and taking it in his as he opens the door and walks in backwards, pulling you in with him.  

"And I don't think anyone would blame me for sneaking off with my girl if they had one as beautiful as mine."

"I didn't come along with you to keep you away from your work, Kook," you smile gently.

Jungkook closes the door and then closes the distance between you again, his arms slipping around your waist.

"I know it's my fault for having no self-control when it comes to you, baby," he winks.  

You playfully smack a hand against his chest with a giggle while he presses his forehead to yours.

"Now," Jungkook says, his voice low, "will you stop worrying and just let me love you?"

You bite your lip and nod, and he moves his hands to your hips, pinning you against the wall near the hotel room door.

He grabs hold of your neck and brings his mouth to it. Your chest against his chest, he presses his lips to your skin; as your fingers tangle in his hair, it becomes tousled almost immediately.

"Bringing you along with me was the best decision I could have made," he mutters between gentle kisses with his pillowy lips. His soft touch gets you riled up enough to drive you insane. Then the damn tease adds, "I get to perform on stage for thousands of people and then return to my room to perform for my girl."

"You are such an idiot, Kook," you laugh airily. "I'm an idiot, too, for forgetting how insatiable you are."

His voice falls quiet when he contests, “How could I not be when you are so irresistible?”

His lips meet yours; the kiss is slow and sensual, with tongue and teeth soon joining in, becoming sloppy and intense. Jungkook presses a knee against the wall, settling it between your legs to pry them apart and keep them that way.

He lifts up your skirt, grazing your thigh and trailing along the hem of your panties. His fingers skim along your pelvis until he slips under your panties, into the familiar warmth, finding your clit. He circles it gently, and you sigh at the contact. Then, his touch disappears, only for him to lick his thumb and resume his actions. He swipes your clit in a back-and-forth motion while diving back in for a heated kiss.

When his fingers travel down to tease the entrance, your eyes roll back, and your knees buckle. You moan when he parts your folds, pushing in only the tip of his middle finger.

"So wet already, baby?" he whispers before he shoves the entire finger into you, moving it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.

You know Jungkook likes to drag things out, a tease by nature, and usually, you love it; however, he does not have time for that right now, so you take action to help move things along quicker and cup his erection, already hard beneath his track pants.    

He releases a breathy chuckle, catching on—“Are you rushing me?”

"You said this would be a quickie on our way up here, did you not?"

"That I did."

And with that, he pulls his pants and boxers down far enough to free his cock. You take him in your hand; he is big in your grip, thick and veiny. You pump him to get him hard quicker, but he is already fully erect in your grasp.

He groans and pulls back, dropping to his knees; he uses his inked hand to lift your leg, positioning it on top of his shoulder. Your breathing quickens, knowing what he is about to do as he kneels, his head disappearing under your skirt and between your thighs. Jungkook is truly not wasting time because he pushes your panties aside, and his mouth connects to your core instantly. He slides two fingers into you effortlessly, curling his digits. His fingers are so deep and relentless, matched by the slow and precise movements of his damn tongue.

It doesn’t take him long to increase his speed as he pulls you closer by your thighs and plunges his tongue deep inside you. You moan, and your hands grip his hair as your back arches off the wall.  

You stumble slightly, lost in the pleasure, and Jungkook notices, instantly reacting; his head emerges, placing your foot back on the ground as your panties slip back into place, and your skirt settles on your thighs again.

"As much as I want to take my time with you, we have got to move fast; get your cute ass on the bed, baby," he says, patting your ass and kissing your hair. However, his remarks contradict the gentle gesture as he continues, "We can always continue tonight, and I will make it up to you."   

You let out a gasp as a shiver moves through your body; his words empty your mind and stimulate every nerve in you. Yet you remain steady as he pursues your lips on the path to his bedroom. Jungkook uses his foot to push the door closed before you both stumble toward his bed, removing your clothes along the way.

You lie with his body hovering over yours, his hands returning to explore your skin, and his gaze trailing up and down as if he is seeing you for the first time tonight. You push his hair back as he aligns himself with your entrance, and then he sits up properly, beginning a sensual movement of sliding the head of his length up and down your pussy, thickness rubbing against your folds. You are so wet that he almost slips in when his tip reaches your hole. After a moment, he hovers over you again, one forearm by your head to brace himself as he pushes the head in.

He uses the proximity to kiss you again, whimpering into the kiss as you grip his shoulders for support. He parts from you, his forehead resting against yours.

"I am so fucking grateful to have you, baby. Not just on tour with me, but in my life," he whispers.

Does he not realize what he means to you? So you tell him.

Your hands hold his jaw, and you gaze deeply into his eyes, your lips brushing against each other.

"You are everything to me, Kook. I am so grateful to spend my life with you, and I could not be more proud to be by your side and watch you live your dream."

A hand settles under your knee, lifting one leg over his waist, starting to move. You moan as you pull him in, and he nuzzles your neck while he makes love to you tenderly. He gently leans forward, his arms going under yours to hold onto your shoulders, and then he pounds into you, causing the entire bed to shake.

Your voice trembles as you moan out his name, matching how your thighs quiver when he thrusts in with all his strength and as deep as physically possible while your eyes shut so tightly. His moans sound wild as his long locks hang and tickle your skin, damp with sweat, much like his forehead. Your hands glide over his smooth back again, now hot and covered in sweat.

The intense passion takes over both of you.  

"I love you," his declaration is muffled but becomes more distinct when he pulls back to look at you, expression moonstruck as he repeats, "I love you so much, Y/N."

“I love you, Jungkook.”

The exchange of intimate words between you encourages him to slow down as he gazes at you fondly. You push back his sweat-soaked hair from his eyes, which flit from your lips to your nose and then to your eyes as he caresses your cheek, crashing his lips against yours again.  

You feel the pleasure beginning to take over your body; you squeeze tightly around him.  

“I’m going to cum, Kook.”

“Cum with me, fuck–,” he groans as your nails drag over him. “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your walls begin to flutter, pulsing repeatedly, and you can feel his cock twitching as you milk his orgasm out with yours. Affected by your clenching, he moans against your cheek, closing his eyes before you feel him empty his release into you; you shudder as he fills you up.

You remain like that for a minute, chests heaving and hearts racing. Your eyes flutter open, and you peer down to see how Jungkook is recovering, still pressed against your chest. You caress his hair, gently scratching his scalp as your body calms.

You’re still breathing hard when he falls back against the mattress next to you, his softening cock slipping out of you as he moves. You lie like that for a minute, your heart slamming in your chest, eyes dropping shut as you attempt to recover. His cum is starting to leak out of you and stain the sheets beneath you, but you can’t find a fuck to give about it right now.

You eventually feel the bed shift as Jungkook rolls over, pulling you close to him with a soft grunt. He gently kisses the crown of your head, and you can feel him smile a bit before he speaks with a cheeky grin.

“Now, I am ready for practice.”

Jungkook walks into the banquet hall with flushed cheeks and messy hair. A spring in his step as he approaches the table at the side of the room to retrieve his mic and in-ears.

The members are taking a water break when they notice the youngest's arrival and take in his appearance.  

"Look who decided to grace us with his presence," Taehyung remarks.  

"Done getting your dick wet and came to join us?" Jimin adds.

"For now, yeah," Jungkook smirks, "Why, jealous?"

Seokjin and Yoongi let out a snicker at the quip.

"Gross."

"Ew."

Taehyung and Hoseok exclaim simultaneously, both grimacing, while Namjoon stands there with a mortified look.  

"No, annoyed," Jimin continues, "You're supposed to be here hitting high notes, not making your girlfriend."

"I'm only thirty minutes late; I haven't missed much."

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Namjoon's voice cuts him off.

"At least he's here now; let's just move on, now that we have everyone here," the leader concludes before the situation escalates further.

The seven guys come together in the middle of the floor, getting into formation. Namjoon signals for the music to begin, and Jungkook comments before the track starts playing,

"My body is all loosened up anyway now, so just think of it as a warm-up."

jeon jungkook - the boy is mine

warnings ; this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall..

prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.

a/n ; i mean, this is absolute whore behavior on my end and i have no words. beware this is long AS A MOTHERFUCKER. and so much plot. enjoy. also this is college!jk and reader so WOO (also loosely based on the boy is mine - arianaaaa)

Some people were just meant to be in the background.

Or, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for quite some time now.

You were the kind of person who blended into the background, voice barely rising above a whisper when spoken to, presence often slipping unnoticed into corners of rooms. Some days were spent in Yonsei University’s prestigious library, buried in books, worlds that didn’t require attention, where the characters spoke louder than you dare would. It wasn’t that you minded, though—you were content to remain in the quiet… well, as long as your best friend, Seo-yeon, shone like a star in the midst of it all.

Nevertheless, there were times when her shine cast a shadow, and that light felt a little too harsh. You didn’t mind when Seo-yeon needed a shoulder to lean on, but lately it seemed like all she did was lean—never giving anything in return. And you tried to brush it off, scolding your brain it’s just the pressure of her rich father but deep down, you could not shake the feeling that Seo-yeon’s warmth was only reserved for someone else.

And that someone was your best friend since you were 10, Jeon Jungkook.

You get it. Who wouldn’t? Hottest guy at school, richest parents, biggest heart… and from the rumor mill, his heart wasn’t the only thing that’s big.

It’s always just been you and him. Jungkook and [Y/N], [Y/N] and Jungkook. Best friends since grade school, partners in crime on the playground. Really, they were setting you up for failure by having your best friend be someone who had a revolving door of women in his life. Even back in your young age, he somehow garnered more attention than an average adult. It was just who he was. You accepted that.

But then, somewhere along the timeline of convoluted wreckage your life, you two grew up. Grew closer, somehow. The lines of your life intertwined, never straying too far apart.

So, it was really no surprise to you when you woke up one day and realized you were madly, deeply, irrevocably, disgustingly, head over heels in love with him.

You had convinced yourself, over and over, that Jungkook knew. How could he not?

It was like this: you had seen a kiss in a television show when you were 11. Pondered what it felt like to do such a thing. It had been a fleeting moment, so innocent—just a brush of lips under the old oak tree in the park when you were 12, surrounded by the laughter of friends and the warmth of summer. But in that brief, stolen instant, something shifted inside you, a chemical reaction. The memory of that first kiss, so pure and untainted, lingered in the air, like a secret only you two shared.

You caught the glint in his eyes afterward, the way he looked at you as if seeing you for the first time, and ever since… well, ever since then, you’ve been his.

When Seo-yeon casually mentioned over drinks one night that Jungkook was sooooo cute and she was thinking of going for it, well, you should’ve been shocked, but how could you be?

She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to take it, even if it meant stepping on the quiet spaces you had carved out for yourself. It stung, of course, the idea that she could waltz in and claim something you had quietly held onto for years. But deep down, you knew the truth. You knew you would never go for it, not really—not with the unspoken barrier between you two, that kiss from ages ago still lingering in the air, in your blood.

And yet, Seo-yeon’s confidence in taking what she wanted, without hesitation or doubt, only reminded you of how much you were willing to give up, just to keep the peace. That’s who she was. And you? Well, you were the one who always let her take.

And all this to say, this is why you were standing with your spine pressed into the cold wall, eyes burning holes into Seo-yeon’s back, fingers digging into your red solo cup, heart thumping, as you watched her flirt with Jungkook.

It was supposed to be a fun night. Key word: supposed. Jungkook’s best friend, Jimin, had invited everyone to his house for a ‘get-together.’ You should’ve known when you got the invite it would be a party, another chance for you to be a wallflower.

And there you were, assuming your post, drinking whatever concoction Jimin’s roommate had created.

It was a tragedy.

The music swirled around you, yet you were caught in the gravity of Seo-yeon and Jungkook’s orbit. Every glance, every word that passed between them felt like a blade to your chest. Her laughter rang out, effortless and bright, and you watched as she leaned in closer to Jungkook, her fingers grazing his arm in a way that made the air between them shimmer with something unspoken. It was too much—too intimate, too easy.

You could feel the tension coiling inside you, a painful knot you didn’t know how to undo.

And before you do anything rash (or well, not that you will, but the thought of it) you hear a familiar voice that calms you down in the slightest.

“Boo.”

You instantly know it’s Taehyung, Jungkook’s other close friend who you’ve somehow managed to also become buddy-buddy with. You kinda had to, just to prove to Jungkook you can make other friends beside Seo-yeon. Tsk.

You lightly smile at him, but you refuse to take your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon, as if you turn away for a second, they may leave you in the dust.

“You know… You’ve been staring at them like you’re waiting for them to start a new Netflix series or something.” He whispers near your ear, as if it’s some massive secret that no one could possibly guess.

You blinked, startled, “I’m not staring,” you mumbled, but Taehyung only raised an eyebrow.

“Sure you’re not. You're practically giving them a live commentary in your head, huh?

You scoff. “I don’t care if they talk. Honestly, I want them to get together. I mean, why not? It’s what she wants.”

His elbow lightly digs into your side, making you slap him away with ease, “Oh, really? Is that what you want? You’re not fooling anyone. You’re practically trying to will them together while simultaneously wanting to rip your hair out.”

“Why would you think I don’t want them to get together?” You roll your eyes.

You know exactly why. And.. may also have to do with the fact that besides your diary, Seo-yeon and yourself, Taehyung also knows about your little infatuation (which, and you remind yourself, only happened because you got quite drunk with him at the bar and admitted it two months ago.)

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes his again. “You are the worst liar I know.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted.

He raises his arms up in defeat, “Fine, if lying is the route we’re taking, at least just tell Seo-Yeon to go home. Seriously, who even invited her?"

You finally remove your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon to face Taehyung, who definitely looks drunker than you thought he sounded. “I’m not doing that. And plus, she’s my best friend.”

He snorts, “Really? The same best friend who’s currently talking to the boy she knows you’re in love with?”

Taehyung continues, probably, and you can only assume, because he got you to tear your eyes away from them and their incessant giggles. Really, what is so damn funny? “You’re practically turning into an accessory to the decor. Please go take him away from her. He already adores you.”

Jungkook did adore you—there was no doubt about that. When you both got accepted into the same university, he immediately integrated you into every friend group, every hangout.

But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

The temptation to rip Seo-yeon away, to somehow be the one he turned to, was enough as it is—but the fear of being seen, of finally stepping off the wall and making yourself known, kept you frozen.

Taehyung threw his hands up in mock defeat, still grinning. "Alright, alright, I give up. Do whatever you want, missy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You looked up at him, frowning, swirling your drink that’s been boiled down to just ice. “Warn me about what?”

“Don’t let this be one of those things you look back on and regret, thinking you should've acted before it was too late.”

You knew Taehyung was right, though admitting it felt like admitting defeat. You thought back to those moments with Jungkook—the way his high fives always lasted a beat longer than they should, or how his fingers would brush against your shoulder in the most casual way, as if it wasn’t just a touch, but something that had meaning beneath it. There were those quiet moments, too, when his gaze would linger, his eyes soft and unreadable, as though he was on the edge of something he couldn't quite grasp.

Deep down, there was that small, quiet part of you that wondered if he ever felt the same—if he ever wondered, like you did, whether you two could be more than just friends.

"Wow, when did you get so deep? You sound like one of those motivational speakers who talks about following your dreams and embracing the moment,” It’s your turn to roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He shot you a knowing look. "Hey, I’m just trying to save you from becoming the wise old lady at the bar telling stories about how you ‘almost’ told Jungkook you liked him when you were young and full of hope."

“Well, thank you for the life lesson.” You looked down at your cup, a heinous purple color now that the ice has completely melted. “I’ll stick to my alcohol for now.”

And he saunters off, weaseling his way through the hoard of people to bully his next victim, you suppose. You were a little tipsy, you won’t lie. With a sigh, you turned your head back to Seo-yeon and Jungkook.

…Where the fuck are they?

Now, it’s time to panic.

You pushed through a few random guys and girls, silently saying excuse me basically to no one but yourself. Vision gets hazy, but you can’t tell if it’s tears or the punch.

Heart flutters, skips a beat. There he is, pouring himself a cup at the drink table that’s been set up in the dining room. No Seo-yeon in sight. You assume you have 5 seconds before she comes back from wherever she is to trap him once more.

You waltzed up to the drink table, trying to act casual, but your heart skipped when you saw Jungkook standing there, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on in your head. He waved you over with that signature carefree smile, his bunny teeth poking out. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up. Were you hiding from me or just avoiding everyone?”

You blinked, hands suddenly unsure of where to go as you fiddled with your cup. “I wasn’t hiding! Just… you know, blending in with the background. Like I do.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into something a little more teasing. “Blending in? You? You’re like, the least subtle person here. You stand out more than the punch bowl.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You joked as you lean over him to pour yourself another cup of punch.

He laughed, leaning closer like he was about to share a secret. “Okay, but seriously, where have you been? Where’s your head at? I know, I know I said get-together… but it’s definitely a party.”

“Tsk, tsk. You little player,” You sipped your drink, looking up into his doe eyes. God, he’s just so…

Your curiosity got the better of you. “So, uh... what’s the deal with Seo-yeon? You two talking about something important, or is she just... I don’t know, using you for your impeccable taste in drinks?” The jealousy tugging at your chest made it harder than you expected to sound casual.

A small chuckle escaped him. “Seo-yeon? Nah, she’s just, uh, talking my ear off about some random stuff. Nothing exciting.” He shrugged like it was nothing, his tone so nonchalant it almost made you second-guess why it bothered you. “Honestly, I don’t even know half of what she’s saying. I’m just nodding and pretending to be interested.”

You blinked, surprised that anyone could be bored at anything she had to say. “Wait, really? You’re just... pretending?”

“Yep,” Jungkook grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years. Maybe you should teach me how to do it with more people, though. I’m still not great at pretending to listen to people who don’t bring snacks.”

You laughed, a bit of the tension in your chest easing. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re way too nice to actually ignore people."

He shrugged his broad shoulders, something you’ve come to notice as he’s grown older. “Possibly, but-“

Your breath hitched when Seo-yeon reappeared, her presence as loud and effortless as a storm breaking the quiet. With a smile that was all too practiced, she glided over, her eyes immediately locking with Jungkook’s, as if the space between them had always been empty, waiting for her to fill it. “Hey, Jungkook,” she purred, her fingers brushing against his arm as she leaned in a little too close, a familiar, flirtatious glint dancing in her eyes. “Still owe me that drink, remember?”

Jungkook’s smile widened, completely unfazed by her proximity. His fingers wrapped around the cup and handed it to her, their hands brushing lightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft, full of that gentle affection that made you want to stick a fork in your eye.

You felt the familiar nerves rise in your chest, the uncertainty pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The scene before you felt too much, too close, and you found yourself backing away instinctively, your eyes flickering toward the exit. You just needed to escape, even for a second. But before you could take another step, Jungkook’s voice cut through the hum of the room, warm and easy. “Hey, do you wanna go play darts? Jimin has not shut up about it and I want to test out my skills.”

And he does it again. Digs you deeper and deeper into that dream of yours.

You took another sip out of your cup, locking eyes with Seo-yeon, who, for once in her life, looked nervous. See, if you weren’t 3 drinks deep, and you weren’t so desperate to remove her away from him, you would’ve went back to your post on the wall.

But Taehyung’s words linger in your brain like a broken record.

“You know, actually, I need to steal Seo-yeon away for a quick minute,” You reach out, grip onto her arm like it’s your lifeline. You’re almost certain you draw your fingernails in a little too deep to her skin.

“Huh?” Her eyes widened, blinking a few times.

You dragged her through the crowd, pulling her to the opposite side of the room with a swiftness that leaves Jungkook utterly baffled. He has stopped questioning yours and Seo-yeon’s friendship.

Your nerves buzzed with the alcohol in your system, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. "Why are you flirting with Jungkook?"

There it was, out in the open. Lingering in the air like a cloud of smoke.

Seo-yeon blinked in surprise, her eyebrows rising as if you had just grown another head. “What are you talking about?” she replied with that same airy sweetness, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” You scoffed, feeling the alcohol’s warmth pushing your boldness forward. “It’s like you’re auditioning for a role in Jungkook’s life or something. You're so obvious.”

Seo-yeon laughed, a soft, dismissive sound. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, [Y/N]. Wow, look at you. Finally standing up for yourself. Guess it only took a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

She tilted her head, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

All you see is red, and you’re kinda imagining what her head would look like ripped out of its socket.

She keeps pushing, keeps pressure testing, keeps dragging the knife through you. “Whatever. If you want to make this a thing, go ahead. But don’t act like I’ve been the one playing games.”

“You know what?” It’s a rhetorical question, turning back to you with a slight tilt of her head. “If you’re not going to make a move, I’m all in on Jungkook. You’ve had your chance. It’s not my fault you can’t get out of your own head.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and something in you snaps. The rage bubbled up from deep inside you—something you’d never shown Seo-yeon before. She wasn’t allowed to take this from you too.

"Is that it, then?" You shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You think you can just take everything from me because I'm not bold enough for you? You think you can just waltz in and claim him like he's some kind of prize because you know I won’t fight you for him? That’s not how this works, Seo-yeon."

Seo-yeon opened her mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished. “No. I’m done letting you walk all over me. I care, Seo-Yeon. I care about him."

And now you can’t stop it, this word vomit that has plagued you, it keeps tumbling out, slurred but filled with an undeniable intensity. You didn’t care anymore; the alcohol had loosened every restraint, every last thread of caution. "You’ve known. You’ve known I loved him this whole damn time. You’ve always known, and you’ve always taken from me—always—like you could just have whatever you wanted. I’m done pretending I’m okay with it.”

The silence between you two felt like a storm was brewing, the air thick with tension, and you, a tad too drunk to fully grasp what you were saying, but not so drunk that you didn’t know it was the truth.

Seo-yeon’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes flicking to the side before meeting yours again. "Well, you know what they say…the best girl always wins, right?"

You’ve already ruined the friendship, put the nail in the coffin and sent her floating down the river. You gripped your red solo cup so roughly you think it might break, “You think you're the best girl? Maybe it's time someone showed you that I’m done being second place. I’m done being the girl who just watches. I’m going to fight for him. You’ve had your turn, Seo-yeon.”

Seo-yeon’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she quickly regained her composure, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You’re going to fight for him now? How cute.”

Your jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “Yeah. I am.”

And, you are certain if only Taehyung could hear you now, he would throw another party just for you having this conversation. You storm away, leave her in the dust to settle on its own. A part of your resolve breaks a little realizing that your own college best friend since day one of freshman year, was not the person you thought she was. But, that’s not what really matters to you.

The night dragged on, clusters of people fading in and out of the party. You don’t necessarily pay attention, you’re too busy feeling like a World War III hero after your triumph. You laughed with Taehyung in the corner, even flirted with a few people. Anything to take your mind off Seo-yeon desperately throwing herself at Jungkook, but you knew better than to look.

The lights felt dimmer, the music quieter. Jimin, ever the instigator, stood up with a grin that spread across his face like a mischievous secret. "Alright," he said, his voice warm but teasing as he looked around at the gathered circle of about 20 leftover wranglers. "Truth or dare, anyone?"

You broke your conversation with Taehyung, hesitated for a brief moment, heart thudding louder than the music. Normally, you would’ve stayed out of it—content to sit on the edge and observe. But tonight, something inside you whispered that this was the moment to stop being the quiet one.

A laugh rang out from someone in the group. “Really, Jimin? Truth or dare? We’re in our twenties, not twelve.”

Jimin just shrugged, unfazed, the playful gleam in his eyes still dancing. “Don’t care. It’s fun.” As if daring was the only thing that could make the night memorable.

As the silly little game began, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seo-yeon scrambled to sit next to Jungkook, her movements almost too eager, too forced. She slid onto the floor beside him, laughing a little too loudly, her hand brushing his casually, but it didn’t escape your notice.

It didn’t help that Jungkook, who had been laughing and talking with the others, now seemed to catch sight of the silence that stretched between you and your friend. His gaze flickered toward you for a split second, brow furrowed slightly. There was concern in his eyes, like he could sense the shift, the distance between you two, the fact that you hadn’t exchanged a word since the heated conversation. And for a moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... worried. It was only a glance, but it sent a ripple of uncertainty through you.

The game kicked off with such chaotic energy that there was immediate regret of your decision to join, Shirts came off, beers chugged, some over-the-clothes fondling. Laughter and teasing echoed around the room, but you couldn’t seem to join in. Your nerves twisted inside you, coiling tighter with every round. Every time your eyes flicked toward Jungkook, your heart skipped, and you could feel your emotions swirling—confusion, desire, hurt—but the fear of being exposed kept you frozen.

Seo-yeon, on the other hand, was all confidence, sitting smugly in her chair with a knowing smile, like she already knew she’d be the center of attention. Like she knew, deep down, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

Then, Jimin’s voice broke through your fog of thoughts, full of mischief and a glint of amusement. "Alright," he said, eyes dancing as he turned toward Seo-yeon and Jungkook. "I dare you two to kiss for five seconds."

You may as well have just shot yourself right in the face. Your breath caught in your throat. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you watched your (ex) best friend’s eyes light up with the thrill of the challenge. It was as if it was too easy for her—too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Without hesitation, she leaned toward Jungkook, her lips finding his almost effortlessly. The room seemed to quiet for a moment, and then it was the silence that felt louder than anything.

But what made your stomach twist wasn’t just the kiss itself—it was the way Seo-yeon’s gaze flicked toward you just before their lips met. A slow, deliberate look that lingered in the air. The seconds stretched, and you could barely breathe, and your heart was feeling as if it might break right then and there.

The kiss was over before you could even process the feeling of it, but the knot in you chest remained, heavy and tight, long after Seo-yeon pulled away. Jungkook glanced over at you, so briefly you almost didn’t catch it.

Your mind raced, but you struggled to push the images from her head, the lingering feeling of Seo-yeon’s smug gaze before the kiss. You took another sip, the burn of it helping to cloud the pain you didn’t want to face. The weight of it sat like a stone in your chest.

Taehyung’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. “[Y/N], truth or dare?” he asked, his grin teasing as he leaned towards you.

Jimin shot him a playful glare, almost about to protest, but Taehyung was quick, silencing him with a dramatic “Shh.” The room quieted slightly, all eyes on you as you hesitated for a fraction of a second. You were still reeling, but the alcohol buzz had emboldened you—made you feel more confident than you had all night.

"Dare.” You didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from, but you couldn’t back down now.

Taehyung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Alright then,” he said, tapping his fingers against his drink. “I dare you to go into the closet with Jungkook for five minutes.”

The room went quiet for a moment. You felt the weight of the dare pressing in on your chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Jungkook’s pointed gaze. Was this a joke? Was it real? Seo-yeon was first to break the ice, who snorted in disbelief. “Are we in fifth grade or something?”

Jungkook, who had been sitting quietly, his drink in hand, suddenly took a casual sip. To your surprise, he looked completely unfazed, almost... eager? “Who cares?” he said with a shrug, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a harmless, impulsive decision.

You froze for a moment. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. But there was not much protesting to be done because before you had a chance to speak, Taehyung is up on his feet pushing the two of you in the direction of the musty little closet.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the world outside the closet faded into nothing. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words, the kind of tension that clung to the walls like the silence between them. You stood frozen, the room suddenly too small, too close. You could feel the heat of his presence even without touching him, the rhythm of his breath matching your own, as if your hearts beat in sync, caught in the same web of uncertainty. The dim light from the party barely reached, leaving you in a space of shadows and soft, anxious breaths.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of you spoke. The awkwardness hummed between you like a steady pulse, the weight of it heavy. You’ve known him forever but… you could feel your nerves twisting tighter and tighter, but the alcohol buzz made it hard to think clearly, each thought slipping away just as quickly as it came.

Jungkook finally broke the silence, a nervous chuckle escaping him, his top teeth playing with his lip ring. "This is… um, definitely not how I expected this to go.”

You tried to force a laugh, but it came out shaky, and you immediately regretted it. “Yeah, not exactly the closet of my dreams,” you said, though your voice trembled in a way you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

And then, just like that, Jungkook’s gaze met yours again, but this time, there was something different in his eyes—something softer, more vulnerable. It was like someone ripped your best friend away from you and replaced with someone who might actually.. never mind. He was pressed into you, your height difference showing as his head tilted down to look at you. His lips parted, like he was debating saying something.

Then, with a surprising gentleness, he spoke. “This is going to be so random but… do you remember our kiss?” he asked, his voice low and almost reverent, as if the question itself carried a weight he wasn’t sure how to handle.

You froze. The memories came rushing back, unbidden—a flash of two twelve-year-olds, awkward and innocent, caught in a moment that now seemed so impossibly far away. The brush of lips, quick and uncertain, a first kiss that neither of you truly understood.

But the way he looked at you now, like the past and present were colliding in that quiet, intimate space, made everything feel much more real. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, pulse quickening. He remembers.

“O-Of course I remember,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, your heart fluttering in your chest as the memory of that kiss resurfaced in vivid detail.

Jungkook held your gaze, his eyes dark, searching, as if he, too, was standing on the precipice of something he wasn’t sure he could face. There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched between, thick with everything unsaid. And then, almost in a breath, he spoke again, his voice softer, but his words filled with an unexpected weight. “My mom brought it up the other day. Didn’t know she watched my kissing virginity get swept away.”

“Oh,” you laugh.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. The words hung in the air like a fragile thread.

The confession hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and sharp. He’s thought about it? Like the way you have, maybe, possibly? Like writing in your diary about him everyday since then? Like dreaming about kissing him again every time you are even remotely close to him?

“So…” he started, breaking the silence, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity. “The last time you kissed someone... was it anything like that?"

There’s those stupid two bunny teeth that poke out in a cheeky smile as he teased you about something that should be so trivial, yet so was not.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question. You didn’t know whether to laugh or squirm. You could feel the warmth creep into your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the clutter in the corner of the closet to avoid meeting his gaze.

“I… What?” You stammered, a little too flustered. "What kind of question is that?"

Jungkook chuckled softly, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes never leaving your face. "Well, I’m just curious. You know, if it was anything like the kiss we shared all those years ago," he teased, his voice deliberately casual.

You rolled her eyes, trying to deflect the attention. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I haven’t kissed anyone in forever. In fact…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence without sounding ridiculous. “You know that. Last time was that random dude at that party last month.”

Jungkook’s smile returned, but it was gentler now, as if he was trying to make you feel better. “So.. What was the last kiss that actually meant something?” he asked, leaning in just slightly, the playful glint back in his eyes.

You knew damn well you couldn’t answer that without revealing too much. The truth was, there hadn’t been a kiss that meant anything—not since you were 12. But you couldn’t say that to him. Not yet.

“Long, long time,” You teased.

For a moment, you swear there’s a glimmer of hope behind his welcoming eyes.

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right guy,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you try to joke your way out of it.

Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Must be hard to find someone who’s good enough to even compare to the 'best kiss ever' from when you were twelve.”

You froze, heart thudding in your chest as you realized what the weight of what he'd said. "Damn, you really remember that kiss, huh?"

Jungkook just smirked, his eyes glimmering. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

And, there’s something that switches in the air, something that makes you realize you’re not as delusional as you think. You’re thinking back to every single time he’s given you that hope to hold onto, every time he has kept the dream alive. You met his eyes, looked into them, felt like you were peering into his soul.

He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, a sudden seriousness in his tone. “And now… I kind of wish I could kiss you again. See if it feels the same.”

Either you are incredibly drunk, or he has lost his mind. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of alcohol and overwhelming emotions. You blinked, breath caught in your throat, trying to process the weight of his words. He wanted to kiss you again? You could feel the tension between them now, thick and suffocating, like the very air around them was holding its breath. But what was this? What was happening?

Your voice came out shaky, betraying the fear that had lodged itself in your chest. “Where is this coming from, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s expression faltered for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so open, so raw. He took a step closer, his gaze softening, searching yours with an intensity that made your knees feel like jell-o. His voice was quieter now, more sincere, as if trying to reassure you, or maybe even himself. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.. I mean we’ve been best friends for years.”

“I-I, maybe, who cares?” You repeated his words from earlier. “You’re drunk, Kook. We’ve been drinking for hours.”

“I’m not joking,” he said softly, his voice low and full of something you couldn’t quite name. "I wouldn’t joke about something like that."

Your breath hitched as he reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours, as if waiting for you to decide. You could feel the pulse of his touch, and with it, all the years of longing, all the secret emotions you’d kept hidden, pressing down on your chest.

It was almost too much. Too much to process, too much to understand. But the truth was clear now, sitting heavy in the silence between you. You were in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.

Just as the words hung in the air, just as you could’ve sworn that he was about to lean in and finally press his lips against yours, thick with longing and uncertainty, the quiet, intimate space you’d created shattered in an instant. The closet door suddenly flung open with a loud crash, and for a heartbeat, your world spun.

The sudden burst of light flooded the small room, blinding you for a second before you recognized the faces of your friends, all grinning mischievously. Taehyung, ever the troublemaker, leaned against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face. Jimin, with his usual playful grin, stood next to him, his eyes glinting with amusement. And then there was Seo-yeon, leaning casually against the wall, her lips curled in a knowing smile.

You quickly stepped back, face burning as your eyes flicked between them all, still trying to process what had just happened. Jungkook stood frozen beside you, face flushed as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, well,” Taehyung said with a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that. The closet was really the place to be, huh?”

“Didn’t take you two long,” Jimin added with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew this was going to be good.”

You felt the blood rush to your face, and you could barely look at Jungkook. Your heart was still hammering, a mixture of humiliation and confusion swirling in your chest. You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words caught in your throat.

Jungkook cleared his throat, taking a small step forward. “It’s not like that. We were just talking.”

“Oh, talking, huh?” Taehyung grinned wider, obviously not buying it.

Your head was spinning. The echoes of the teasing, the laughter, and the flirtation were still reverberating in your mind. You could feel the alcohol mixing with the tension that had built up all night, and it was almost too much to handle. Your thoughts were a jumble—your best friend, Jungkook, the kiss that almost happened, everything was falling apart in a whirlwind of emotions.

The game seemed to fizzle out after a few more rounds, yet you were still sat there, hoping to make sense of it all. The clock slowly ticked by, bodies still trickling in and out of the house despite how late it was. And you probably should’ve made an effort to take to Jungkook, to fight for him, to stand up on your words to Seo-yeon.

And so there you stood, attached to the wall yet again.

Except this time, Jungkook was peeling you off of it. He had enough juice at this point to know better, to care less if he made a fool of himself.

He made his way toward you, his expression tight with something unreadable. “Can we talk?” he asked urgently. You opened her mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he was already guiding you through the crowd, clutching your hand in his.

As you walked up the stairs, you looked down at the people left over from the night, and you caught a second of a glance from Seo-yeon. Maybe, just maybe, you were going to win this once and for all.

The loud music and chatter from downstairs faded as you made your way up to the quiet of the second floor. When you reached an empty bedroom, he closed the door behind you softly. You both stood there for a moment, a beat of silence hanging between you, thick with anticipation. You twiddled with your thumbs, setting your cup down.

Jungkook turned to face you, his expression full of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness, uncertainty, and longing. He took a step forward, his breath shaky. "[Y/N].. Am I crazy?”

“What do you mean?” You gulped, pressing your back into the nearby bedside table.

“Is there something here I’m missing with us, are we good? Like, I haven’t spoken to you all night, Seo-yeon is shoving herself down my throat, and you know I hate her. And then… that stupid fucking closet has my head spinning. So, talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening—couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud.

Without thinking, you whispered, almost inaudibly, "You don’t know?"

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, and he took another small step closer, “What?”

Your heart pounded harder now, hands trembling slightly at your sides. You took a breath, then let it out slowly. Your voice was barely a whisper, but the words felt like they had been stuck in your throat for years. “You had to have known I’ve been in love with you.”

There it was. Out in the open, hanging, lingering. The words dissipated into the air. You started to wonder what magic potion was in this drink that had you ending many friendship tonight.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening. He stared at you for a long moment, disbelief flooding his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. If I had known...”

“If I knew…” he began again, his voice strained, almost as if he were fighting to keep his composure. His gaze never wavered from yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes.

“I would have...” He swallowed hard, stepping closer to you until he was only inches away, his breath warm against your skin. “... I would have kissed you. A long time ago.”

You felt your chest tighten, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. You could feel the electric pull between you, every inch of your body screaming to close the distance. But you didn’t move. Neither of you did. The air was thick, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, with everything that had been building between you, allegedly, for years.

Jungkook’s hand twitched at his side, as if he were fighting himself, unsure of whether to make the move or not. His gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, a tortured look on his face. “Was it not obvious when I let you kiss me when we were 12?” he whispered, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

Everything inside you screamed for him to close the distance, for him to finally kiss you when you were older. But the fear, the uncertainty, still lingered. “Jungkook...” you whispered, voice trembling.

Somehow, he always knew just what you wanted to say.

“I know,” he said softly, his face just inches from yours now. "I know."

“It wasn’t obvious, you know,” You began. The fire from earlier that raged when you snapped on Seo-yeon began to reignite, to push itself to the forefront and grow as bright and red as could be. How could he expect you to know? He had dated so many girls, so many people that weren’t you, that you had just started to normalize the fade you did into the background. It was insulting for him to think otherwise. “You dated like 10 girls after that kiss when we were younger.”

“You dated someone too,” He pointed out. True, but.. you only did it because he did. Which is surprising to no one.

“Yeah, but I was always there. I was always by your side, every breakup, every tear shed, hoping and praying you’d finally pick me. But there’s not a good way to say, hey I know we’ve been best friends for years but I’m in love with you. I didn’t, I don’t want to lose you,” You wanted to break his eye contact, look away and start crying into your shirt. But you didn’t. You held your ground.

His face softened, another cautious step taken towards you. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He’s so close now you can feel the nerves, the heat radiating off his body. You can smell that stupid cologne he got last Christmas from his parents. You can see his silver chain glisten under the light bedroom lamp. “Well, if you don’t feel the exact same, then yeah, I will lose you. And for the record, Seo-yeon knows I’ve been in love with you. God, she is such a little bitch. You know I finally ended it with her tonight. She’s insane. But whatever, my point is that if you’re not also in love with me, I’m done, I’m going to move to the US and become a monk. This is humiliating-“

You nor him got to hear the ending of that sentence, because before you know it, his warm hands are cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him, and he’s kissing you. It feels like this: you’re 12 again, under that white oak tree on the playground, your mothers watching a few feet away with a knowing smile on their face. Your heart quickens up its pace, tries to catch up to what is happening. But there’s no use. You’re a goner.

The moment Jungkook’s lips met yours, the world seemed to fall away. There was no party inside, no city stretching beyond the university—just him. Just this.

His kiss was slow at first, testing, as if savoring the feeling of finally closing the space that had been pulling you together for so long. His fingers, warm against your cool skin, tilted your face up to him, deepening the kiss in a way that made your breath catch.

You responded instinctively, pressing closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor. The tension, the longing that had built between you for months—maybe even years—unraveled all at once, spilling into the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for too long.

You had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him when you were older (especially after he got that stupid little lip ring that had you using your vibrator more often than you liked to admit.)

Jungkook exhaled against your lips, his hand sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his thumb brushed circles against your skin—it all left you dizzy.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each passing second making it harder to think, to focus on anything but the way his lips moved against yours. He tasted faintly of liquor, of something intoxicating yet familiar, something that made you want to drown in him completely.

“I shouldn’t have waited this long," he murmured, his voice rough, almost regretful. “It’s better than it was when we were 12.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your hands still fisting his shirt. "Then don’t wait anymore."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he leaned in again, this time softer, slower, as if committing every second to memory. His lips brushed yours once, twice—just enough to make your knees weak—before he kissed you fully again. His tongue poked through, and a soft whimper left your mouth at the contact.

Jungkook’s second kiss was different—deeper, more certain. The hesitation that had lingered before was gone, replaced by something more urgent, more consuming. His fingers tightened at your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips parting against yours, letting the kiss deepen in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

You met him eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. He groaned softly against your mouth, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. His tongue brushed against yours, slow at first, coaxing, teasing, before he pressed in more insistently, his hand cradling your jaw as if he couldn’t bear to let go, moving down to wrap a gentle hand around your neck.

Your breath hitched as his grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he held you firm to the bedside table.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, but his hands never left your body, his fingers skimming the curve of your waist, the warmth of his palms making your skin tingle.

You shook your head, breathless. "I don’t want you to."

That was all he needed.

In one swift motion, his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you with ease. A surprised gasp left your lips, but you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried you across the room. His lips never left yours, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as if making up for lost time.

He reached the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress without breaking contact. His body hovered over yours, propped up on his forearms, his dark eyes searching yours as he caught his breath.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, his voice husky, edged with impatience.

You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair, your own breath coming just as fast. "Then why did we wait?"

Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Because I knew, once I had you like this… I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it."

His words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again—slower this time, savoring every second. His hands traced gentle patterns against your skin, grounding you, making you feel every ounce of emotion behind his touch.

His fingers moved deftly, swiftly, but there’s a bit of anxiety behind his touch. He kissed down your neck, slowly, agonizingly, to your collarbone… pushing aside your shirt to your shoulder. His knee dug into your thigh, and felt fuzzy from how much he was touching you, everywhere. You let out small whimpers, eager for him to continue, to know what it feels like to be one of his girls.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with something you don’t recognize from him. If he wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve been scared. His fingers ghosted down your chest, to your stomach, playing with the hem of your shirt, almost asking for permission. He doesn’t have to, because you’re propping yourself up and taking it off for him, just leaving your bra out on display. He pauses, takes a moment for himself, realizes he isn’t in a dream when he reaches out and touches one of your tits. It’s like he’s a prepubescent little boy again who has never seen these before.

“God, you’re perfect,” He mumbled, voice shaky, feeling you through your bra. He moved the bra aside a little, sees the hard nipple poking through and removes your entire bra, one hand. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen underneath and that tattoo sleeve he started working on two years ago.

You don’t know when you became such a withering mess underneath his touch but you’re glued down to the bed, imprinted on the mattress. Jimin will have to come peel you off tomorrow morning. “Touch me again,” you whispered out, low enough for him to hear and for his cock to twitch in his pants.

He looked back up at you, taking his attention away from your chest. There was a shift, a change of massive proportions in the air. You know he’s experienced. Everyone knows it. He’s had countless girlfriends, hookups with other friends… you’ve heard the rumors spread like wildfire.

When he speaks, his voice sounds almost pensive. “Has anybody ever made you come?”

The sound you make is much too close to a whimper for your own comfort. Involuntarily, you feel a flutter down there, and you realize faintly just how wet you really are, all of some stupid kisses.

You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s noticed your reaction.

“I- uh,” You’re utterly and totally speechless. The answer is no. None of your boyfriends ever figured it out truly. It’s not like they were studs in the bedroom. So, you would fake it, kiss them goodnight, and go finger yourself in the bathroom to get off. You somehow have a very strong intuition you won’t need to do that with Jungkook. “No, not really.”

His gaze becomes darker, pauses and thinks of his next move. He pushed you back onto the mattress, making room for himself to painstakingly slow move in between your legs. Jungkook lifts your skirt up, revealing your lacy pink panties that have a wet spot engrained right in the middle. “Fucking hell, you’re soaked,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

He looked back up at you. “Do you want me to make you come?”

He can’t be serious. The blood rushed from your face down to your toes.

“P-please,” You whimpered, tugging your bottom lip underneath your top lip. “Please, Kook.”

“I can’t believe no one’s ever appreciated this pussy,” You can’t tell if he’s speaking mostly to himself as he took off your skirt fully, letting it fall on the floor with a soft thump. “You are so beautiful, [Y/N]. I’ve been dreaming about this for months, years.”

You just nod in response, since that’s all you can muster as he drags the pink underwear off your thighs, down your ankles, off your being. You want him to make you come, want him to be the reason you feel immense pleasure.

He’s still babbling to himself, something about how he’s going to wreck you tonight and all that, and then you feel his tongue flatten out on you, making a circular motion on your clit. Your pornographic moan could probably be heard across the entire campus. Your whole body jolts alive, eyes squeezed so, so tight as he worked his tongue repeatedly over your clit, lapping up every ounce of your wetness he can.

Your hand reaches out to grasp at something, anything, clutching his hair and holding his head as his tongue rolls around in between your clit and your entrance. His nose bumped against your clit as your hips began to rock up and down, your body aching for more, anything he could provide you would take it.

“Jungkook,” You breathed out, followed by a string of profanities and moans. He seemed to be pleased by your reaction, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your legs around his head, practically suffocating himself with you.

“F-fuck, how are y-you so good at this?” Your back arched off the mattresss, vision blurry as he continued his assault on your clit. He was so lost in it, so deep in it, he could barely respond.

He pulled away for a second, looking up at you with his big eyes, lips glossy and covered in your slick. You watched as he gathered some saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto your clit and letting his fingers rub your bundle of nerves. “Oh my god,” That elicited another expressive string of words, your chest heaving as you teetered closer and closer to that edge.

You still couldn’t believe this was happening; your best friend of over a decade, eating you out like you were a five-course meal.

He enveloped his lips around your delicate bud and pulled, and you can hardly contain yourself, fingers darting to his locks, the sheets, your abdomen. You can't sit still, can't halt the convulsions, losing all sense of self over your own body. Every which way, on him and off him, thoughts in turmoil and emotions in chaos and sensations askew, and you can't fathom how nobody's ever subjected you to this before, and how have you managed to live without the sensation of Jungkook's lips on your pussy.

His fingers replaced his mouth again, this time, splitting you open with two fingers that glide right in with how overly soaked you are. “Gonna make you cum so good, princess,” He said. “Gonna make you forget any of those lames before me.”

He has to realize that won’t take much convincing. You’ve already forgotten what any other man looks like.

As his lips reconnected with your burning core, all inhibitions vanish. He darted his tongue in and out, in and out, in and… your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your legs straining to offer him greater access, even to the point of discomfort when your muscles protest, but you crave him closer, deeper, harder, and you're drowning in longing, aching with it. The only anchors keeping you grounded are his hands, the one hand that has wandered from your clit to fondle your tit, the other that is now relentlessly pumping in and out of you.

He's cautious, nearly tender, but it's futile, you're soaked, allowing him continuous entry of his fingers without any struggle, devoid of any tension in your muscles. You're incapable of tightening up even if you wanted to.

“I-I, fuck, Kook, I’m gonna cum,” You whined out in a tone that was half begging, half delirium. You weren’t even sure your body was in control of itself anymore, you just wriggled and thrashed around as he worked you to finish.

“Yeah?” He said against your clit, his breath fanning against you. His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand rubbing incessantly circles on your clit. It was all too much, far, far, too much. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me. Want to taste you, taste what I’ve been missing all these years.”

It engulfed you completely, resonating within your core, your toes, and your fingertips. It propels you off the bed, leaning forward, fingers clutching his hair, legs quivering uncontrollably, screaming his name over and over like a prayer.

It seemed to go on for hours, his fingers penetrating you through it, his tongue caressing you through it, and all thoughts dissipate under the onslaught of that blinding, electrifying pleasure.

Jungkook persisted, relentless, until you thrusted his head away with vigor, overwhelmed by the sensation to the point of pain erupting like tiny needles. You have absolutely no idea how any girl ever let him get away, but you make a mental note that he will never leave your sight. He leaned over you, hovering over your shaking body.

His head bowed down, pressing a kiss on your lips, and you taste yourself for the first time. It’s a mix of him and you, salty and sweet and warm and dirty. You want it, again and again and again..

But you want him to feel good too. Want to do right by him, make him yours officially, have him scream out your name. You pulled away from his kiss, wiggling yourself out from under him. With a surprising amount of strength you mustered, you flipped the two of you; you’re straddling him, thighs locked on either side of his toned abs. His eyebrows raised, lips still slick and swollen with your juices and saliva and you’re pretty certain you’ll have a stroke if you keep looking at him.

You’re still dripping onto his bare chest, abs now covered in you as well. Probably the second hottest thing you’ve seen so far. You leaned down, kissing him, fighting for some sort of reprieve. You kissed down his jaw, his neck, and his little whimpers send you to a different planet.

He’s just so vocal, and now you can’t get enough.

“Let me ride you,” You said.

He blinked. Was he hearing that right?

“Please,” You pleaded. “I just… I want to make you feel good, Kookie. Like you did for me. Wanna make you happy.”

He smirked, rubbing his warm hands against your thighs, “I’m already happy just like this.” And he’s right, his cock is rock-hard and honestly, he hasn’t ever been like this before with any of his past girls. It’s because it’s you, the girl he called his best friend who used to be the quiet, shy one, is asking him to let her ride his cock.

“Pleaseeee..” You moaned, shuffling your body downwards so your clit was directly above his Calvin Klein boxers, grinding on him slowly like this was a middle school party. You didn’t even know when he had taken off his jeans from earlier, you assumed it was during the time his face was buried in your cunt.

He played around with his lip ring, his nervous tic. “Fuck, yeah, baby just go for it. Show me how you ride your best friend.”

You pulled back to finally get rid of his boxers, to finally see what’s underneath, if the rumors rang rang true. You looked down at his cock, splayed across his lower abdomen, open your mouth to speak and… pause.

“Jungkook,” you began, eyes widened, half horror and half excitement, “I-you’re so… big.”

And the moment you’ve said the words, you regret them. His ego was about to inflate to the size of Jimin’s entire house. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips, “Yeah? You gonna take it, baby?”

The pet name made you shudder. “I-I can try,” You stuttered. “I’ve never been with someone this big before.”

He chuckled, his hands coming around to rest on your hips, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumb. You knew damn well he knew how many guys you’ve been with, how many people you’ve fucked, but never their dick size. Didn’t really come up. But, this… well, this was going to be a challenge.

“It’s okay, baby,” He coaxed, “How about you be a good girl for me and start off slow?”

You wanted to be his good girl more than anything in the entire world in that moment.

You can’t even answer, can’t do anything, because he began to align his cock to your sopping entrance, pushing inside of you. It’s excruciating, it’s slow it’s almost impossible to understand how he’s splitting you in half. Jungkook’s head fell back on the mattress, face scrunched up in pleasure, jaw hanging open.

The slide felt almost endless, like you would never reach the hilt of his cock. There’s an endless cycle of Jungkook’s voice spilling endless praise for you taking him so well, that he’s almost all inside, that you already look so full, that he’s never letting you go.

And then finally, when you’re about to tap out and let him get on top, you feel your clit pressed his pubic bone and your body has never felt so entirely filled.

You both let out a simultaneous moan that you’re certain everyone downstairs heard and is getting ready to come upstairs and bang pots and pans at the door.

“I…” Your body gave out a little, and you lean backwards on your palms, giving him a better view of how irresistible you look with his cock so deep inside of you.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand traveled to your clit, rubbing circles, “So damn tight, huh? No one’s fucked you like this in a while.”

All you can do is nod.

The sounds are obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the headboard slamming against the walls, your own whimpers, Jungkook’s groans. You know they can hear you. And you don’t care. Not one bit. In fact, you want it.

You fell forward a little, gripped onto his chest and dug your fingernails into him. You can’t even think, breathe, can’t remember the last time something has ever felt this ethereal. Your head lulled backwards, fingernails so deep in his skin you’re leaving bruises. Jungkook gripped onto your hips, pads of his thumbs imprinting themselves on your skin. You’re certain he must be pussy drunk or something, because the only things leaving his mouth are blabbers, “… fuck, you are so tight and wet.. fucking beautiful, my best girl so good, need you so bad, always..”

Your hips continued to undulate wildly, and you don’t even know where the confidence is coming from but you felt like some fucking goddess riding this man into oblivion. And you recognized it, he’s so close, his face is contorted, chest heaving, eyes squeezed so tight, committing the feeling of you riding him to memory..

And you never get to see that orgasm (yet) because you hear the door swing open. Jungkook sat up, eyes widened, looking between you and your intruder. But you’re too in deep, too into it to stop, too close, too needy… who gives a fuck if Taehyung or even Jimin sees?

He looked back at you, face flushed with an expression you can’t recognize. You tossed your head back, and you understand why he looks like that. You caught a sight of Seo-yeon’s black hair, and when you turned your body, you saw her figure standing there in the doorway, watching, observing, a tiny (and you have to look hard) smirk on her face.

“Are you going t-to get the fuck out or what?” Jungkook tried to sound tough, but he’s coming undone closer and closer by the second.

And you don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact you’re fucking your best friend, maybe it’s the fact you’re still a little drunk off the punch, maybe you’re just a different person than 3 hours ago, but you turned back to Jungkook and go, “Let her stay and watch. Let her see how good I fuck you. Let her know you’re fucking mine.”

You can’t see it, but she blinks at the doorway, jaw unhinged and a gulp of saliva slithering like molasses down her throat. “Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum,” Jungkook whined out.

“Yeah, you want to cum?” You leaned back, giving him full access to your pussy and the way his cock is coated with your juices, dripping onto his abdomen, making a mess everywhere. “Tell her you’re mine. Now.”

You don’t even know if she’s still there, you just want him to say it. Even if it’s just for you.

But, he looked back at her, looks back at her petite frame in the doorway, then back at you. “I’m yours. I’m fucking yours, baby. Forever.”

“Good boy,” You leaned your body back into him, press a kiss into his sweaty cheek. You then turn back around to handle her, and it almost makes you want to laugh how she’s now frozen to the wall like you once were. “Now, close the fucking door behind you while I finish him off.”

The door slammed behind her, but you barely noticed or cared. He’s an absolute wreck, singing praises to you and you’re all yeah yeah yeah please please please I’m so close, and he came undone so fiercely he’s struggling to keep it together, to not collapse. He coated your walls, and you clenched around him as you barreled through what might be the most insane orgasm of your life.

There’s a moment where black washed over your vision, jaw ripping open trying to scream his name, or anything remotely in the dictionary, and you’re just putty on top of him as your body shakes and convulses trying to come down.

You fell into him, on top of him rather, hearts struggling to get back to its normal rhythm. He doesn’t want to move, can’t imagine going anywhere in that moment. You finally moved over to his side, nestling into him and you’re certain there’ll be a mold of your body on him tomorrow. He wrapped his arm around you, tugging in as close as he possibly could.

For a while, you just lay there like that. You welcomed the silence, no longer letting it scare you.

“You know, your mom and my mom were plotting on us.”

He’s the first to break through your thoughts. You giggled, tracing circles on his chest, listening to his heart thump thump thump against his ribcage. “I’ve always loved you. I know that. Well, ever since you gave me that Spider Man plushie when we were 11.”

You can’t deny the shit-eating grin that appeared in your face. You weren’t about to tell him you fell into love with him before that, probably when he gave you a Hello Kitty bandaid for one of your ouchies. “Is that so?” You teased.

Into your hair, Jungkook whispered, “Always been mine.”

There’s a wave of something that crashes over you, something you feel deep within you. He’s mine, you thought to yourself. And it makes you blink tears away because of it.

You laid there, peacefully, silently, in absolutely bliss…

“Ugh, Jungkook! Right there! So fucking good!”

“[Y/N], keep going! Your pussy feels so good! Ahhhh!”

“Jimin! Taehyung!” Jungkook roared, reaching up one arm for the pillow on the bed and flinging it at the wooden door, other arm still wrapped loosely around your shoulders.

“Hey, man! You can’t get mad at me! You just had sex in my fucking bed. You’re doing my laundry for six months!” Jimin’s voice cracked at the realization of you two… in his bed… with god knows what juices splattered. He shuddered even imagining it.

“He’s got a point,” Jungkook sighed, running his hand over his face.

You laughed a little, then he did too, and you felt the vibration against your body. There was only him, only now. And as Jungkook pulled you closer, tucking you into the warmth of his arms, you realized— it was supposed to be this easy. And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a risk. It didn’t feel scary. It felt like home.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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