#fuckboy!au

[clairomatt]

fully introducing . . . fuckboy!chris ⋆｡° ⊹˖

pairing : sweetheart!reader & fb!chris

warnings : smut , p in v , nicknames , bj , slight buldge kink , no use of y/n !!

it was a sunday, which for you meant revising for the next college week ahead. you sat on your bed, laptop on & opened on some physics homework you were catching up on. lana del rey’s voice filled the room softly as you scribbled away in your pink notebook, jotting down whatever you thought might help you on your test tomorrow.

despite the perfect studying environment, you just couldn’t focus. all you could think about was the party your friends were at right now, the party chris was at right now. you knew he’d be cuddled up with some loud sorority girl already — the FOMO was starting to hit hard.

your train of thought was interrupted by a repeated tapping noise. you ignored it, but the noise persisted: three taps in the same pattern. it almost sounded like … someone was knocking on your window.

“chris?” you spoke. you were slightly skeptical, but knew this was 100% something he would do. you pushed the window open, your confused face being replaced with a huge grin as you recognised the unmistakable smirk chris always wore.

“what are you doing here?” you spoke, your mind filling with a million questions. you grabbed the sleeve of chris’s hoodie in your excitement and pulled him inside.

“hey, kid” he responded, laughing under his breath about being practically dragged through the frame of your dorm window.

a wave of doubt and self consciousness flooded your brain as chris scanned your room for the first time. the room was covered in posters and decorated with little lamps. trinkets and figurines covered the surface of your desk. your floral bedsheets and pink pillows matched your lace covered curtains perfectly. you loved your room… but you didn’t think it would be to a drug dealers liking.

“cute room.” chris laughed, picking up a sonny angel figure from your shelf, inspecting it before looking down at you with a smirk. his comment was laced with sarcasm but it somehow put you at ease.

as he looked down at you, you noticed chris’s eyes linger on the brandy melville set you were wearing, a basic white pyjama set with undeniably short shorts. you followed his eyes as they traveled down to your thighs before quickly meeting yours again.

“what?” you laughed, hitting his arm.

he looked down at you, his red eyes not leaving yours for a second.

“nothin’… you look good,” he responded with a low laugh as he walked across the room to sit on your bed.

your cheeks glowed a dark shade of pink at his subtle compliment and the butterflies that were dormant in your stomach fluttered manically. fuck.

you turned around to see chris spread across your bed as if he was the one who lived there. his back layed against your pink pillows and his arm came up to rest comfortably behind his head, causing his shirt to ride up and reveal a slither of his stomach plus the waistband of his black branded boxers. his manspread pose made you want to physically jump him.

despite your rosy cheeks and nervous demeanour, you clamber onto him … settling in his lap with roll of your hips. you look down at him, scanning his expression.

“hi.” you whisper, barley audibly, with a sweet smile.

“hey..” chris says, exahaling slowing. his hands instinctively grab your thighs, squeezing and pulling at the skin as you move your hips in small circles against him. you tug at the hem of chris’s white shirt, pleading him to pull it off.

your palms lay flat against chris’s bare shoulders, hips swirling against his lap slowly. a tiny moan slips past your lips as your clit rubs into the fabric of his black sweats.

your noises went straight to chris’s dick, which was growing under the heat of you. he couldn’t help but to rut up into you as you tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing your open mouth closer to his and pulling him into a deep kiss. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing as if it would be the last time.

you pulled away from him, removing your white tank top & revealing your tits that pebbled immediately under his stare. chris’s gaze darkened, eyes only focused on your chest, grabbing your waist and pulling your tits closer to him.

he sucked and kissed at your chest, leaving purple marks behind as his teeth grazed across your skin. whiney incoherent sentences escaped your mouth, encouraging chris to keep going. “fuuuck… look at this shit kid.” he said breathlessly, admiring his work.

you were already a sweaty mess. you brushed your hair away from your eyes, pulling it into a tight ponytail on top of your head. unhooking your legs from chris’s side, you shuffled down his legs, now determined to make him feel good. chris watched as you pulled his sweats down, leaving him in only his underwear.

his dick was begging to escape, straining against the black fabric of his boxers. he was painfully hard, he needed this now. from between chris’s legs, you tugged down his last peice of clothing; watching as his dick sprung free, slapping into his stomach.

he instinctively took himself in his hand, stroking up and down, searching for some kind of relief. “chris.. let me. please..” you said softly, watching how his expression changed. one of his eyebrows raised but he accepted your offer, leaning back smugly and putting his arms behind his head.

you hovered over his dick, gripping the base with one hand, the other hand planted on his thigh to steady yourself. tentatively, you suck in your cheeks — gathering enough saliva to be able to take him in your mouth. your tongue swiped over his tip, making chris hiss at the contact, his breathing becoming erratic.

slowly but surely, you take more of him down your throat, the moans that part his lips giving you a slight confidence boost. his hips jerk forward sharply, causing him to hit to back of your throat roughly. you eyes brim with salty tears that you blink away as you struggle to keep going.

“fuck. fuuuuuck, holy shiiiiiiit..” chris dragged out, letting out a guttural moan. his laboured breathing and the wet sounds of your mouth is all you can hear, the lewd sounds filling the room.

suddenly, chris pulls you off of him.

confusion floods your face. you thought you were doing a good job? abruptly, chris flips you over, pulling your ass into the air and leaning into your ear to say, “wanna cum in you, not in ya’ mouth.”

you nod slowly, looking back at him — seeing the excited smirk growing on his face.

you feel him press into you slowly, the burn overwhelming. as he pushed himself fully into you, he placed a hand on your stomach, pulling you into him closer.

the burn begins to subside and turn into something more. the pleasure you feel as he plunges in and out of you is like nothing else. you feel him everywhere… tugging on your loose ponytail, whispering praise into your ear and in your stomach fucking up into your gut.

the gasp you let out as he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl is loud. so loud. you clench involuntarily around him, a warning to him that your close… which only makes him pound into you harder.

“thaaaat’s it. squeezin’ me in so fuckin’ good..” he says through low grunts.

chris’s hand leaves your waist for a second, it coming down to press roughly on your stomach. he can feel his dick rutting into you through your skin. “fuuuuck. you feel.. you feel me in there?” the pressure of him pushing down makes it impossible to answer using words. instead, you moan incoherently, babbling something he couldn’t make out.

it was all becoming too much. him sucking more dark spots into your collarbone, him panting pretty compliments into your ears. everything came crashing down around you when, chris moved his hand from your stomach to trace circles on your clit.

your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened wide as your orgasm hit you hard. you gripped onto chris’s hand tightly as he continued to rub you faster. you cried his name like a prayer as you tried to find something to cling onto.. the sheets, chris, anything.

your orgasm dwindled, but chris didn’t stop. still pounding into you at a new faster rhythm, chasing his own high. the overstimulation was painful — but till had you chanting his name, over and over again.

chris let out another guttural moan, this time letting thick ropes of cum spray into you — it leaking out slowly when he pulled out with a pop, flopping down beside you.

“fuck.” he said, through heavy breaths; looking you up and down with a smirk.

you smiled at him through bleary eyes, as he leaned over the edge of the bed to retrieve his black lighter & a blunt from the pocket of his sweatpants.

you watched as he lit the end of his blunt and took a hit, then lay back on your bed and look up at the ceiling. your eyes felt heavy as you fell asleep, watching him blow a puff of thick smoke out of his mouth.

so much for sunday night revision.

A/N: introducing my babies <33 second fic ever so pls be kind ily !!! 🤍🤍🤍 lots of love, emmy

lil taglist !! : @fikesgal @purpledragon222 @trevorsgodmother

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ DO YOU MIND? ❞

— minors dni, suguru x gn! reader (established rs), ft. satoru, voyeurism, oral [ m. receiving ], pining?, some stsg if you squint at the end :3, barely proofread 🫣

gojo tends to show up at the most inopportune moments.

…like now, when suguru is balls-deep in your mouth.

your boyfriend watches, utterly flabbergasted, as gojo settles into the other patio chair and then blinks at him with a casual, blue-eyed stare. it’s nonchalant, careless…as if this is all normal.

you begin to pull off of suguru’s length before he stops you with a steady hand on the crown of your head. your eyes widen, lashes fluttering for a quick second before a strange sense of normality washes over you, and your body relaxes. whatever gojo is up to, you’re confident suguru will handle him with ease, as per usual. after all, this wouldn’t be the first time his best friend has walked in on you two during activities like this, though he usually doesn’t take a seat with the apparent intent on staying throughout.

suguru takes a long, thoughtful drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing. “…do you mind?”, he asks and quirks a brow.

gojo just smiles at him. “huh? oh, no, i don’t mind.”

a couple seconds pass and suguru has to wonder if he’s actually having this conversation. “are you actually insane—“

“god, what’s the big deal?” gojo groans, interrupting the once-hushed, midnight serenity in his typical, obtrusive fashion. shifts in his seat and suguru finally notices the bulge between his spread legs. his jaw just goes slack in utter disbelief.

suguru is not distracted for long. with a flick of your tongue, you bring forth a grunt from your boyfriend’s lips, back to bobbing along his length in a craving for his creamy release down your throat. suguru can’t and wouldn’t bring himself to stop you. the situation is far past strange but, if you’re determined to continue, and gojo being a fucking weirdo doesn’t bother you, then that’s fine by him.

he sighs. “whatever.”

not even a second passes before there’s a clink of metal, and suguru watches as gojo begins pulling his own cock from his pants.

“satoru, what in the f—“

“shhh.”, gojo hisses at him, and suguru raises two astonished brows. “i’m trying to enjoy the show.“

the dark-haired man is genuinely stunned into silence. it takes a moment before he catches his bearings, tossing gojo an unamused look and leaning back to rest in his own chair. “fine, whatever, just shut up while you do it.”

suguru rolls his eyes at gojo’s victorious grin, before pulling his dying cigarette back up to his lips and billowing out another cloud of smoke. whatever. with everything going on, it’s easy for him to block out any trace of gojo, anyway, and just focus on you.

a bold smell of tobacco wafts through the air, filling suguru’s nostrils as the nicotine finishes off any remnants of stress in his body. the sloppy, wet noises of spit and pre, of you eagerly sucking him down your throat. the curious feel of your hand massaging his balls while the other twists and jerks off whatever can’t fit in your mouth. yeah, it doesn’t take a single drop of effort for suguru to forget that his best friend is jerking off to the sight of you.

someone else is properly taking the time to admire every detail of the view before him. the moonlight rays gleaming off of you and his best friend, casting a gentle glow on the lewd scene. suguru’s head tossed back with locks of black framing his face, a red blush visible across his handsome features even with the limited lighting. and you, god, you. gojo eyes the hand on the back of your head, threading through your hair. suguru has a gentle grasp for the most part, sometimes shoving you down to his base, and gojo’s cock throbs longingly at the gags you let out before being released again. so cute, so pretty, doing your best to take his friend’s fat cock all the way in, only to come up a few inches short every time. it’s obviously a struggle, and yet you still try your best, so keen to swallow every inch. so eager to please.

globs of clear precum dribble out and over gojo’s tip, making for slippery strokes as he gives his bobbing cock a squeeze. though it’s hard, difficult, excruciating—especially with suguru’s own grunts and moans calling out into the night—gojo doesn’t want to risk interrupting this moment. it feels improper and rude, akin to shouting during a performance.

as he admires you both, gojo begins to feel this abrupt sense of jealousy. whether it comes from wanting to be in your place or suguru’s, he cannot decide.

💜: @anthoosies @staryukis @teddybeartoji @lxnarphase @satoruxx @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @bookswillfindyouaway @rosso-seta @sugurubabe @soraya-daydreams @bubblez-blop @arthurschneider @venzlenes @khaothick @haruchiy0 @sillysushi @risuola @hobarihope @crocodilethesir @starlightanyaaa @reodiaries @spicana @lovley212 @katharinasdiaryy @ninikrumbs @imaniitheoneee @luvr-exe @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @trafalgarrattata @sataraxia @elleflying07 @toptierbunny @purplegemadventures @whokilledvivi @getouolgy @exinqiu @flvffybunny @leilalilox @babytoshiii @idkluvv @froggkat @princ3ss-juicy @starsharkz @zzzlevislothzzz @sugu-love @peachyaone @squishies0102 @ivy-vivii @mynahx3 @ratedrrrr @ha-zel-art @hongsxn @tryn-ity @rubyredish @higuchislut @mochi-islive @shhinigamii @insanebiitch @shinninglightning

[cvnntagious]

ও ⋮ fuckboy!matt headcanons ⸝⸝

all my fuckboy!matt blurbs, fics, and wips : here

fratboy!chris ver. here

⇢ SFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who, like his title entails, is a fuckboy. much unlike (fratboy!)chris, he's quick to entertain girls who throw themselves at him

❒ fuckboy!matt who 'isnt afraid of commitment'

" c'mon, y'think i'm scared of that shit? what's to be scared of? trust me, if i wanted to, i could keep 'er by m'side forever. "

" so... what? you wanna keep playing? "

" playin'? nah, m'jus havin' my fun. why settle down now? "

❒ fuckboy!matt who spends most of his time at the frat with chris

❒ fuckboy!matt who, despite his brother's constant begging, refuses to commit to chris' fraternity

❒ fuckboy!matt who mostly meets girls through chris, whether they're a client of chris' who happened to run into him, or chris sent them his way

❒ fuckboy!matt who is surprisingly top of his classes, taking homework and studying very seriously

❒ fuckboy!matt who does chris' homework

❒ fuckboy!matt who's dormmate is nick

❒ fuckboy!matt who doesn't deal, and actually happens to constantly be on chris' ass about being reckless

" gonna get fuckin' caught with that, " he said, snatching the little baggie from his brothers hand

" don't be a pussy matt, i got people feinin' for that shit—s'good money. "

" nothin' pussy about this, s'for your own good. you ain't heard twelve's out here really searchin' for this shit right now? i'm not bailing y'out, dickhead. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who only really has his brothers at the end of the day, so he allows himself to only care for them and no one else

❒ fuckboy!matt who noticed you in one of his classes on the very first day, but only got the guts to actually talk to you when chris told him to keep you occupied so he could head off with your friend

" we got hella booze, if y'drink, kid... I'll be taking her, and, um- " chris reached over to slap matt's chest as a gesture, " oh, perfect. this's my brother, matt. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's an asshole and he knows it, not caring how his words or actions affect others (unless you're nick and chris, of course)

⇢ NSFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who was never one to go back for more until he met you

❒ fuckboy!matt who, though he'd never admit it, hasn't so much as touched another girl since he'd gotten you in his bed

" you're seeing other people? "

" na— well, would it be a problem if i were? y'think we're together or sum'n "

" i guess not... "

" s'what i thought. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's sex drive is crazy, sometimes making you wonder if he ever gets tired

" one more time. just one more, c'mon, i know you can take it, " meanwhile you're spent beneath him, sopping wet and trembling as you struggle to form words from your fourth orgasm

❒ fuckboy!matt who could eat it till he's blue in the face, if you'd let him

❒ fuckboy!matt who always ends up taking control when you ride him

❒ fuckboy!matt who loves when you scratch him, overstimulating you til you can't do any thing but scratch at his biceps or back

❒ fuckboy!matt who refuses to do anything without a condom... until he's drunk and needy, hands wandering as he 'forgets' all about the rubbers sitting in the drawer of his nightstand

❒ fuckboy!matt who'll say things just to upset/piss you off, just so he can fuck all those harsh emotions away

" aww, hurt y'feelings? won't - do - it - again, sweets, promise. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's always down for a quickie—any time, any place

❒ fuckboy!matt who has no problem trying new positions, but usually sticks to speed bump, missionary, or any version of cowgirl

❒ fuckboy!matt who isn't embarrassed about being loud, not caring who could be hearing him

" fuckkk, sweetheart, keep backin' that into me. "

" ah- shit, oh, y'gonna make me cum. mm-mhm, do that shit again. "

a/n : pretend this didn't take years to get out cs i said i was gonna make headcanons for all my au's ages ago and basically stopped at fratboy!chris...

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!

[allpiesforourown]

OKAY SO I have way too many WIPs to write a role reversal fic and I meant to just yap about my au and ended up writing 2k words about it if you want to read it below...

oblivious shizun luo binghe / oblivious disciple shen yuan

First of all i've been reading a lot of role reversal fics lately but big shout out to ao3 user anqlbean for this fic because it really gave me "fuckboy shizun binghe, hiding that he's a demon lord" brain rot

Okay so anyway. In fair cang qiong sect where we lay our scene-

Luo Binghe is the Qing Jing peak lord. He’s also the heavenly emperor of the demon realm. No one knows both of his identities except for mobei jun and a handful of other people from his inner circle. It’s risky for a demon to hide as one of the cultivation world’s most prominent figures, but he likes having the best of both worlds!

Enter Shen Yuan: Shen Yuan's cultivation history is somewhat similar to Shen Jiu's in that he started cultivating late and joined Qing Jing well into his teens. He’s about 16 when he becomes Binghe’s student, but the thing is… Luo Binghe is kind of just the peak lord in name.

He spends his free time getting laid in the next town or going on an adventure with some hot demoness instead of giving classes. He’ll go on cultivation missions and take requests from villages and whatnot, but he doesn't bother teaching his disciples, just gives them a cultivation manual and tells them to figure it out. Half the time when students greet him on the peak he just nods because he doesnt even remember the disciple’s name. It’s fine though, once every few months he’ll take a break from all the one night stands and actually take a student along with him on a mission, just to keep the sect leader from complaining. “See, I teach my kids! Last month I took what’s-his-name on a night hunt!”

By the time Luo Binghe bothers to take Shen Yuan along for a mission, Shen Yuan is already 20 and has been on the peak for 4 years. Luo Binghe barely knows he exists, and he justs wants to collect this herb he was tasked with retrieving, send Shen Yuan back with it, and then get nasty with the woman back in the village who gave them directions to the cave that grows it. 

Unfortunately for Binghe, the cave is also home to one of the few flowers that can affect a demon lord. Binghe can’t move as he falls to the ground and hears his student yell “Shizun!” and run over.

They can hear monsters nearby so Shen Yuan’s two options are to 1) heal his shizun by taking advantage of Binghe's body or 2) abandon him to die and leave by himself. Binghe has experienced both multiple times, and is ready for either one. He's not ready for Shen Yuan to choose a third option that no one has ever chosen before: heaving Luo Binghe onto his back, transferring him qi, and using every bit of strength to carry him to safety. 

By the time they return to the cave’s entrance, Shen Yuan only has enough energy to use a talisman signalling the sect for help before they both pass out. 

When Luo Binghe wakes up, the Qian Cao peak lord is asking him how he feels while his head disciple is yelling at a sheepish Shen Yuan for doing something reckless again! Apparently this is not the first time Shen Yuan has exhausted himself for the sake of another person. 

Over the next few days, he can’t think of anything other than his student. 

(Also, he secretly feels kind of… angry??? Was his body so unappealing to Shen Yuan that he'd rather half-die than dual cultivate with him?? He's not sure why he's so pissed off by the idea, it's not like he's ever wanted to dual cultivate with a man before, but still…)

Finally he decides he has every right to be curious about shen yuan, that’s his disciple! Unfortunately while Binghe was ignoring Shen Yuan's existence for the past few years, his disciple has managed to build up… a reputation at Cang Qiong. 

Oh Shen Yuan selflessly saved Luo Binghe? Big deal, saving people is an average Tuesday for Shen Yuan, apparently! “He stopped my qi deviation” this, “he threw me out of a poisonous demon's way” that. 

For the first time ever, Luo Binghe is not special. If anything, he has less pull with Shen Yuan than anyone else at Cang Qiong, because everyone else knows Shen Yuan better. Luo Binghe doesn’t know Shen Yuan’s birthday, but the rest of his students make sure to throw Shen Yuan a party every year to thank him for all his tutoring. Binghe is SO far behind, which is a feeling he hasn’t felt in YEARS. 

About a month after the mission, he finally sees Shen Yuan sparring alone. Luo Binghe walks over, acting unbothered and nonchalant even though he's screaming internally. He greets his disciple and says, “This master has yet to properly thank Shen Yuan for his assistance at the cave… join me at the bamboo house tonight.” 

Shen Yuan apologizes, says he has important plans but would love to join him another night, then spends the rest of the day off the peak with the An Ding head disciple. 

Luo Binghe is flabbergasted. He's less important than an An Ding disciple???? Really??? Fucking An Ding????? 

After that, Luo Binghe……. He isn’t stalking Shen Yuan, despite what Liu Mingyan (Xian Su peak lord) might say with excited eyes. He’s just keeping an eye on this interesting disciple he never knew he had! In secret. 

He walks in on Qingge and Shen Yuan “sparring” and sees the exact moment Shen Yuan oversteps, loses his balance and goes tumbling on top of Liu Qingge. Binghe storms over, picks Shen Yuan up by the back of his robe like a cat, and physically separates the two of them. The two disciples gawk at how weird that was and he has no idea how to come up with an excuse for whatever the hell that just was. 

Instead he asks what they’re doing. 

Shen Yuan, being polite and answering the question: Liu-shidi and I are heading on a mission soon-

Luo Binghe: this master shall join you.

Shen Yuan: uh… it's a very simple request, two disciples are more than en-

Luo Binghe: this. Master. Shall. Join. You.

Liu Qingge: ???? What the hell is his problem 

Shen Yuan: Okay… this disciple is grateful for shizun’s assistance…?

Their flight to the village is dead quiet. 

The townspeople sigh theyre so glad they’re here, some demonic creature has been destroying their wildlife! This area makes most of their money with lumber exports, so if the creature continues to destroy their trees, it’ll result in huge losses. 

When they find the demon, Shen Yuan starts yapping non stop. It’s like he’s suddenly transformed into a textbook, explaining that this little beaver-esque demon needs to chew up trees for its survival. Luo Binghe is bored out of his mind and pulls out his sword. 

Shen Yuan gaps and picks up the small creature, holding it protectively against his chest. “This species isn’t even violent! We can’t kill it!” 

Luo Binghe crosses his arms and says they have to complete this commission somehow. Shen Yuan argues they can simply relocate the demon somewhere else! Luo Binghe expects Liu Qingge to complain or brutishly try to kill it, but he shrugs and says he’ll follow Shen Yuan. Apparently this happens regularly…

By the time they rehome the creature somewhere it won’t be a bother, it’s too late to fly back to the sect.

The only close by inn apologizes and says they only have two rooms left, and each one is a single bed. They can have a mat sent up, but…

Binghe says he should room with Shen Yuan because they’re both from Qing Jing, and (he glares at Liu Qingge as he says this) Liu Qingge is an outsider. Liu Qingge narrows his eyes and says it would be inappropriate for a peak lord to share a room with a lowly disciple, so he should room with Shen Yuan. 

Shen Yuan cheerfully chimes in that he and Liu-shidi sleep together all the time! “Whenever shidi and I camp outdoors, he says he prefers sleeping on the ground. He’ll be happy to take the mat.”

Luo Binghe's smile becomes a little forced, but shen Yuan doesn't even notice the murderous intent rolling off his shizun, aimed at his friend from Bai Zhan. 

In the end, Shen Yuan gets one room, and Liu Qingge gets the other. Luo Binghe insists his cultivation is high enough he doesn’t need to sleep, and had no intention to sleep tonight anyway.

This is a perfect time to go and find a brothel or a hookup. He realizes this is the longest he’s gone without sex in a long time, all because he’s been obsessed with Shen Yuan so much lately. But he’s got too much on his mind to do that tonight… He’s still thinking of the loving way Shen Yuan protected that small helpless demon, going as far as defying a peak lord for its sake.

Shen Yuan is… someone with shockingly good character. Despite being surrounded by cultivators, meeting people who are good is surprisingly rare. He doesn’t want his sweet disciple to have that lovely sense of justice stolen away from him by… gross perverts like Liu Qingge lusting after him! 

(He’s not projecting!)

He’s already neglected Shen Yuan as a shizun for so many years. Now he has to step and make up for all that time! He’s decided what he has to do. 

First thing in the morning, he knocks on Shen Yuan’s door. He hears a sweet ‘Come in!’ from inside and for some reason he feels… really nervous. Inside, Shen Yuan is sitting on his bed, brushing his hair, and he smiles when he looks up and sees Luo Binghe. “Good morning, shizun.”

Good morning??? How can he say something so casually, without a hint of shame, looking like that?? He’s wearing nothing but one layer that’s not even thick enough to hide his body! He can see Shen Yuan’s milky thighs and small chest!!!! What the fuck!?

(Is this how he walks around the shared dorms on Qing Jing? Do all the other disciples see the outline of his body through his thin layer every morning?? The longer he stares, the more he tells himself he’s making the right decision by doing this.)

He cuts right to the chase. “Once we return, Shen Yuan shall move his belongings into the bamboo house. This lord will teach him all there is to know about being Qing Jing’s head disciple.” He makes it clear that this is a statement, not a request – he’s not giving Shen Yuan a choice. 

Shen Yuan gawks at him, and Luo Binghe says they’ll discuss things more in detail once they return to Qing Jing, but from this moment on, he represents himself as Luo Binghe’s head disciple. It takes Shen Yuan a few minutes to really comprehend what’s going on, but eventually he bows in thanks and throws on another, thicker layer. Shen Yuan moves for the door and says, “I better tell Liu-shidi-”

Luo Binghe’s hand moves before he can stop himself, and they’re both surprised by the deathly tight grip he has on Shen Yuan’s wrist. 

Luo Binghe clears his throat and lets go. “You should let him be. Sometimes if you spend too much time with a person, it can become off-putting.” There, surely that will keep Shen Yuan away from that brute, right?

Shen Yuan says, “Ohhh,” and then smiles. “Don't worry shizun,” he says gently, “This disciple understands what you're saying. Once I move into the bamboo house, I'll make sure to give shizun his space.” 

Then Shen Yuan walks away and closes the door behind him. Luo Binghe can hear Shen Yuan telling Liu Qingge the good news, “I don’t know if shizun is joking or not, but wouldn’t it be nice for us to do our head disciple work together?” 

Luo Binghe realizes that Shen Yuan is going to RUIN him, and he’ll do it without even realizing. 

[jessikahathaway]

Cat Got Your Tongue? - JJK (M)

Hello everyone! I’m back with another Jungkook fic because I have Jk brain rot rn. Please enjoy the story and just as a reminder to everyone-I am no longer doing taglists. I apologize for the inconvenience to anyone, but please enjoy the fic! Feel free to send in asks or chat with me, I love to hear from you all <3

Special thank you to Ryn @queenofthedamnit​ and Ella @oddinary4bts​ for Betaing this fic for me! I appreciate you both very much!

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Genre: College!AU, FWB to Lovers, Romance, Smut, lil bit of angst

Warnings: Miscommunication, emotionally constipated OC (who’s surprised? not me), fuckboy jk (that is a warning y’all), Reader is a member of BM’s Big Tiddy Gang, Hobi and Joonie being boyfriends (because I love them both), sick kitten (she gets better!), vet tech yoongles (phew that’s an entirely different wip), SMUT WARNINGS: Virgin Reader, loss of virginity, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected and unprotected sex (do the former not the latter), creampie, vaginal sex, breif daddy Kink (i’m sorry Ella), dirty talk, titty sucking, hair pulling, Jk gets freak nasty.

Words: 18.1k

Summary: You were exhausted from schoolwork and just needed a chance to unwind. Jungkook, campus fuckboy, offers his services to help alleviate the stress from studying but is he going to cause more stress than he relieves?

“Honestly, this is ridiculous.”

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you tried in vain to study.

“I don’t see why you’re having so many issues lately,” Namjoon, your tutor and quasi friend, sighed before rubbing his face in mutual frustration.

“I don’t either!” you cried, resting your head in your hands. It was rare for you to be frustrated or worked up... Or show any emotion other than moderate irritation.

It was that time of year again where the big exams start hitting before you can run off and celebrate with your friends-well, more like celebrate with a big glass of wine and a job well done. And hopefully you won’t lose your scholarship and have to go back home to the absolute anarchy that is your home life.

The middle child of seven you hate everything that life had to offer you.

It was stagnant. They were comfortable with mediocrity, you were not. You had drive, and passion and you weren’t going to waste it by staying in the same dinky town with your four older brothers and two younger twin sisters.

Since you weren’t into the sports scene like all of your brothers, and you weren’t young and docile like the twins you were kind of outcasted by your family. You knew they loved you in their own way, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay when you turned old enough for college.

Your parents helped you with what they could but it’s hard being parents to seven children. Let alone one that wants to travel damn near four hours for school.

They made it happen, and so did you.

Nothing was going to keep you away from this. Not a damn thing.

So, you came here with an objective and you won’t leave without accomplishing it to the absolute best of your ability. And that meant failure wasn’t an option.

But right now?

It was encroaching a little too close for your comfort.

Namjoon was a saint, he was patient and tried every way to explain something to you in hopes of being able to ease your worries and midterm stress but there was really nothing he could do. Nothing was sticking and it was just causing you more and more frustration and anxiety.

“Hey, don’t freak out,” Namjoon tried to calm you. “Maybe you just need to... I don’t know, get all your pent up frustration out, hm? Maybe like kickboxing or um... Regular boxing? I don’t know, something where you can hit stuff with your tiny fists.”

“I love that you think that was a compliment,” you sighed in defeat. “I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna have to go back home and I’m gonna have to be some wife for a fucking farmer. I’ll have to have ninety children and my vagina is gonna look like-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there because no part of me wants to know what a vagina looks like after ninety children okay? Okay,” he said, face turning slightly green at the thought. “And no, you aren’t going to fail, you aren’t going to go home and be a farmer's wife unless you want to. You’re not going to give up either.”

You gave Namjoon a very rare, but genuine smile and he squeezed your shoulder gently.

“Joonie!” a bright voice called.

Before Namjoon could blink his boyfriend, Hoseok, was on his back.

“Oof!”

Laughter filled the air between the two and you waved at Hoseok neutrally. He gave you his beaming smile that always made you want to return it. Although you weren’t sure your smile was that blinding.

“What’s up? Did they cancel practice early?” Namjoon asked.

“Nah, they’re doing lower level stuff today so the teacher said I could take it off. Because I am a protege as they say,” he snickered.

Namjoon just pushed him before turning back to you. “You’re gonna do fine, Y/N, promise. We can schedule another time but I think you should probably take a break,” he said.

That dreaded word.

Break.

What does it mean? Why?

To stop something?

Or for something to do the act of breaking as in falling apart?

You didn’t like breaks. They gave you time to think, they gave you time to ruminate over your own issues and anxieties and then you found yourself wallowing. No distractions means too much time alone.

Seeing as how you have few friends, even fewer since moving here.

Namjoon was your tutor, but you wouldn’t say that you were like... Super friends or anything. He cares about you, it's in his nature, but you two rarely hung out outside of study sessions. Hoseok you knew by association with Namjoon.

There was Yeji, she was a freshman this year and had asked for some help with a project after seeing you as the TA. You’d fallen into a mother hen role with her and will literally fight anyone who tries to hurt her. She’s your baby, you birthed her. But you don’t really see her as a friend friend, if that makes sense. You feel responsible for her, but you know she’s not stupid either. She’s a capable young woman.

A few of your friends back home, Felix and Bomi are always available for a chat if necessary as well. But they still live there, and their mindsets are very much of the small town variety.

Nothing wrong with that, but you’d rather not get stuck in a place where people either don’t care to grow and try to force others to think the same as them.

Ah, herd mentality, thou art a heartless bitch.

Okay, maybe your comfort show is the big bang theory, who cares?

“Y/N...?”

Ah, people were still here.

“Right, sorry...” you mumbled.

Hoseok looked at you with a small pout before looking at the papers. He’d never seen you struggle so much. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Everything okay in that wonderfully smart brain of yours?”

You winced, because right now you felt everything but wonderfully smart. “Um, not particularly, but I’ll figure it out I guess. And not through boxing,” you said, giving a pointed look to Namjoon who just seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“You know, you’re rather feisty when necessary,” Hoseok chuckled. “Boxing would be  entertaining.”

“I’m not the sporty type, I’m afraid,” you said, resting back on the chair.

“Why did you suggest boxing in the first place?” Hoseok asked, trying to catch up.

Namjoon frowned before sighing. “She’s frustrated and angry at herself, I was trying to think of a good outlet that would maybe get her to focus a little bit.”

Hoseok nodded. “Well, I mean there’s always sex,” he pointed out.

You froze while Namjoon perked up. “Fuck! You’re right!’

Hoseok smiled at his boyfriend like the fucking psychopath that he is while suggesting you do something so... so out your depth.

“See, Y/N?” Hoseok offered. “Just find a nice boy or girl or nonbinary individual who strikes your fancy and... well, let it out.”

“I know you think that will help, but it won’t,” you frowned.

“Why? Sex always helps me get out a little pent up frustration,” Namjoon said with a pout.

Hoseok nodded wistfully. “Oh yes, it certainly does,” he smiled with a cheeky wink.

“Right,” you said, voice cold and chopped while you gathered your materials.

“I’m sorry, Y/N I didn’t mean to overstep-” Hoseok started but you stood quickly and ignored him.

“Namjoon, can we meet again in two days? My project isn’t due until next Saturday so I’ll have some time to rest,” you said.

The older man looked at his boyfriend who looked rather guilty before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll send you a message with schedule times and you let me know what works for you.”

You nodded before heading off towards the exit of the library. You didn’t turn back to see Hoseok and Namjoon share a worried look before you left the premises.

--

“I mean it’s not a bad idea,” Yeji said as she worked on her project in the classroom after the lecture.

“Are you kidding me?” you said, turning to look at her as you wiped the whiteboard down.

“Not usually no, it goes over your head when I try,” she said. “You’re very literal.”

You pouted before turning back to the board. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It can be,” Yeji said, eyes still on her laptop.

“If this is a Y/N roasting session-”

Yeji shut her laptop and looked at you, genuine care swirling in her eyes. “It’s not that Y/N, you know that.”

You shut your mouth.

Yeji had a tendency to go on tangents when she felt strongly about something or someone or a topic. She was gearing up for one right now and you had a feeling you were not ready for what she was going to say.

“Why do you think that having sex to let loose and have a little pleasure and fun is such a bad thing?” she asked, resting her head on her hand.

“I-I don’t think it’s bad,” you defended. “I just don’t think it’s for me.”

“But you wouldn’t know,” she countered.

With a sigh you faced her fully, crossing your arms before looking her dead in the eye. “I’m a virgin, Yeji. I’ve got the V-card very much so intact and probably not going anywhere any time soon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said. “And you don’t have to go all the way with another person. You can just do oral or mutual masturbation or-”

You waved your hand dismissively. “I’m not interested in having sex that’s going to last two minutes and leave me feeling sticky and used, thank you.”

“Not all sex is like that,” Yeji said kindly. “If you find someone you have good sexual chemistry with then it likely won’t happen.”

“I’m on a college campus. Where am I going to find someone who isn’t a one pump chump?”

“I think you have a very skewed vision of what sex is,” Yeji sighed. “Sex isn’t supposed to be crazy all the time. Sometimes it is just one pump and done, for some people that’s enough. Then there are times where you’re edged to the moon and back and then there’s casual. You’ve pigeon-holed something you know nothing about because you know nothing about it and it makes you uncomfortable. You like knowing everything, you like not being caught off guard because when you are, it makes you feel like you’re back home all over again.”

Your heart was trembling in your chest.

“I tend to forget you’re a psych major,” you sighed, but she just gives you a reassuring smile. She may be young but she has an intuition and perceptivity not common in anyone period. Age negated. “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex... I-I just don’t think I want a relationship right now and I also don’t want to be disappointed. Is it wrong of me to have expectations?”

Yeji shook her head. “Not really, at least I don’t think so. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your wants and needs to someone. It’s also not a bad thing to want sex and to not want a relationship. There’s several people who enjoy sex but are happily unmarried or whatever. It’s your choice.”

You nodded. “Okay... Okay-if! If! It is a very big if...” you muttered. “If I decided I wanted to do it with someone, where would I even start?”

The younger woman’s face broke out in a smile at you. “I think I might have just the guy.”

--

“Jeon Jungkook, 25, senior and sports science major. He’s a little older than you but not by much. He’s also got quite the repertoire of sexual prowess,” Yeji winked.

You two were in your apartment late one evening. You and Namjoon had met today and you apologized for your attitude at the last meeting and begged him to apologize to Hoseok as well.

He was shocked at your urgency but was quick to apologize as well.

“What kind of repertoire are we talking about here?” you asked, applying the face mask carefully.

“Well,” she began, sitting cross legged on your bed with a mask of her own on. “He’s super attractive, just look at those legs my god...”

“Describe more please,” you said, painting on your clay mask with intensive care.

“Apparently he’s into sports, photography and food,” she said, scrolling on her phone.

“That’s pretty generic,” you sighed.

“I’m not done,” she pouted.

You turned to squint at her. “Don’t pout it’ll ruin your mask, keep talking, I haven't said no yet.”

Yeji nodded before scrolling down some more. “Oooh, he’s kinky,” Yeji chuckled.

Your brows rose in shock. You sputtered out a feeble, “W-What do you mean, kinky?”

“Well, it’s an older picture but he’s got a girl on a leash and shit for halloween,” she chuckled.

“Okay, I’m not hating on the BDSM community but I don’t really wanna be on a leash before losing my virginity,” you said, finally finishing your mask before coming out to join her on your bed.

“Just look at him,” she said, handing you her phone while she went to pee.

And look you did.

This man was the epitome of the male specimen. He was handsome, toned and strong, he had an attractive face and beautiful jawline that was enough to make you cry. Soft cheeks and surprisingly gentle doe eyes that looked into the camera a few times.

Although he did seem like the typical fuck boy.

“He’s got a tongue emoji and a water spray emoji in his bio, what the fuck,” you sighed.

“He’s allowed to advertise if that’s what he’s offering,” Yeji said as she wandered back out.

“Okay, I’ll at least say he’s cute,” you admitted, looking at some of the other photos on his account. He had really nice pictures on here, some of the city and others of the campus.

“Cute? Cute?! Y/N, you’re looking at all the soft ones,” she complained.

“Am I not supposed to?” you asked in confusion.

Yeji sighed before taking her phone back. “Would you have sex with him?”

You thought it over for a moment. “I mean I’d probably have to meet him beforehand but I can’t deny that he’s attractive to me.”

She nodded in excitement. “Alright, perfect. Then we just need to get you to approach him!”

You felt your blood run cold. “I-I have to approach him?”

Yeji blanked. “You think he’s just gonna walk up to you and say, ‘hey! Saw you were a virgin looking for some great sex for stress relief. How about now? Or Tuesday at six thirty?’ Y/N, of course you’ll have to make the first move. You’re the one seeking him out.”

Damn, when she puts it that way.

“Okay! Okay okay, fine. How? Where do I find this elusive fuck boy?” you asked, laying back.

“Well, I’d suggest a party but those really aren’t your scene. Unless you want to go, in which case I have several dresses that would gladly take the fall for your endeavors,” she said.

“Yeji you’re very sweet to offer, but I’m afraid my boobs are a tad bigger than yours,” you sighed.

And by a tad, you meant a lot.

You were born in a farming community! The women were... curvier than average...

“Yeah, we should probably find something that will accentuate those bad boys. Or girls... However you want to gender them I guess, if at all,” she said.

“Yeji,” you sighed. “I don’t want to go to a party. I’d rather keep this as transactional as possible.”

“Well... I mean sex isn’t supposed to be a transaction unless you’re into that, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal, Y/N. Promise. It can be just a simple, ‘hey, I’m looking to lose my virginity and I don’t want it to be a total disaster, care to help me out?’ and if he says no then you move on to other avenues.”

Doesn’t have to be a big deal?

Yeah right...

--

Finding the said campus fuck boy was harder than anticipated.

But, of course, you find him on the worst of days...

Your period had come three days early, the cramps were worse than usual and you hadn’t showered in two days due to your bathroom flooding in your apartment.

But after a very desperate and tear filled phone call, Yeji confirmed you could crash at her dorm. Her roommate had moved out in search of a single bedroom dorm so she said the bed was yours as long as you needed it.

Thank God for Yeji.

So, as you waddled to your campus library you sat down in the stiff ass wooden chair and got to work. Thankfully, the place was empty, besides for Seokjin who mainly just read magazines and scoffed for comedic effect. Although, he was nice to look at when the words on your pages started swirling together.

Just as you were settling into your routine, you heard the door to the library opening. Seokjin’s voice called out.

“Yah! Jungkook,” he hollered. “Your book is almost a week overdue.”

Your head snapped towards the door. And, like some cruel universal joke against you, the very man you were trying to have in your bed walked in looking like a four course meal... While you felt and appeared to have just been recently run over by a semi-truck.

“Ah, sorry Jin,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

You caught yourself right before the perfectly timed swoon.

Stop!

He’s here! You finally have your chance to talk to him, and better yet, you’re alone!

Well... Sans the weirdly attractive librarian.

“Do you have the book?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking at the... what is he doing with his foot? Why is he toeing the ground like some character in an anime?

“You see, ah, Jin,” he said, coming closer to the counter.

“No, I don’t see a book, nothing to see but a gigantic pain in my ass,” Jin sighed.

“I have the book... I guess technically, I have half of it,” Jungkook explained.

“No,” Jin said.

“Huh?”

“Nope, you did not just come in here with half a late book and expect me to save your stupid ass again,” the librarian scolded.

Jungkook gave an entirely too adorable pout for a senior sports med major.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. You found that you were staring, so quickly you turned your head back towards your studies, seemingly indifferent to the men behind you.

You put your headphones on but then their conversation continued.

“I love you,” Jungkook whined. “Please? Please please please just let me off the hook this last time and I’ll give you Bitna’s socials?”

Jin was quiet for a second. “And that other friend of yours, the cute one who wore the crop top at the last party we were at together,” he said.

“Eunwoo?”

“That’s the one.”

“Deal.”

Jin gave a pained sigh before speaking again. “Alright, now that you’re done being a public menace what are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

“Not too sure, but-oh,” Jungkook stopped. “Sorry Jin, I didn’t know there were people here right now.”

“Ah, she’s here all the time, don’t worry about it.”

They’re talking like you aren’t there, so either they saw your headphones and assumed you weren’t listening or they really didn’t care about you listening in.

“What’s her name? Do you know?” Jungkook asked.

“Hah, good luck,” Jin said, making some noise so he was probably getting back to work.

Good, finally be useful you handsome brat.

“What? Is she not into guys?” you could hear the questioning tone taking over his voice.

“Not too sure, I’ve seen her with the same three people damn near all year. She doesn’t do human interaction it appears, her name is Y/N. Always returns her books at least a week early or comes in and renews them, you know, like a polite young lady! Unlike you, freaking barbarian,” he huffed.

“Hmm, she’s pretty,” he said, it wasn’t said in a way that would make you uncomfortable. He was saying it in a way that was just observational.

“Yeah, but watch out. She’s kinda mean sometimes, she told me once my haircut made me look like a Newfoundland! Those big freaking water dogs that look horrific when they’re wet!” He whined softly.

Ah.

Damn.

You did unfortunately say that to him.

But you didn’t mean it entirely in a bad way...

“Aww, poor thing,” Jungkook laughed.

“Go over there and get shot down, then you won’t be so happy,” the librarian was speaking in pout.

“Fine!” Jungkook said.

Your heart picked up speed.

Fuck!

What do you say? What do you do??

This attractive man was coming over to talk to you-

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder.

With a jolt you turned instinctively to look back and saw that Jungkook was now much much much closer. He smelled incredible. He smelt like sandalwood and spice, his skin was glowing and his eyes were crinkled with a cute little smile on his face.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he said, offering you his hand.

“I know,” you said and your hand flew to your mouth as your eyebrows raised at the blunt words that came out of you.

Jungkook just chuckled softly. “Then I’m sorry for not extending the kindness to you, what’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N,” you said.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Your heart was beating so fast and you couldn’t calm it no matter how much you tried to ‘breathe through your nose and out through your mouth.’

Well, maybe it didn’t work if you were doing it at the speed of sound.

“Pretty, I like that. Don’t know that I’ve heard it before,” he stated, walking around to sit in the chair next to you. He did stop before sitting down and looked at you before you gave him a gentle nod that he could join you.

At least he had manners.

He was already way ahead of the average male on this campus.

“Thanks,” you said with a gentle tone.

“So, what’s your major?” he asked. “Any grand dreams after leaving uni or are you just going to run head first into tomorrow without looking back?” His tone was light, joking. But you still felt your heart hammering in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Uh... Well, I’m a History major with a minor in English,” you said, smoothing your notes down with your hands nervously.

Jungkook nodded in acknowledgement. “That sounds tough, I never had the patience for foreign languages,” he pouted. “If I’m not good at it right away I tend to get bored easily.”

“What’s your major?” you asked, even though you knew it already.

“Oh, I’m a sports med senior,” he said with a soft smile.

You nodded, looking back at your notes. Jungkook gazed at your papers and then his eyes moved back up to you.

“So, do you have any classes today?” he offered, resting his head on his hand as he watched you fiddle with the same notebook.

“No, I’m done for the week,” you answered honestly.

“Would you like to hang out with me then?” he asked.

You turned and raised a brow, confused at his interest. Even though this is what you’d been hoping for.

“You hardly know me, what are we gonna do?” you asked.

Jungkook chuckled. “I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t hoping for at least your number,” he said.

Your eyes widened at his statement.

“And maybe a bit of fun too if you’re interested. I’m not looking for anything serious, if you’re not into it then I’m cool with leaving you be. Just thought I’d shoot my shot,” he said with a little wink.

You could feel the heat on your face as you looked at the table awkwardly. “I-I’m interested,” you said, voice soft.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened as he smiled at you. “Really? Well... how about we get out of here then? Your place or mine?” he offered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “U-Uh mine is currently flooded, unfortunately... And I can’t do it today, exactly,” you said, already embarrassed.

“No?” he asked, voice gently teasing.

“I’m uh... well,” you struggled to say it. “Currently having to put those activities on hold.”

Jungkook looked confused before he seemed to understand. His eyes widened a bit before giving a softer nod. “I see, I apologize. The last thing you probably want is some guy hitting on you right now, sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude about it.”

You shook your head quickly. “No! No no, it’s fine. I would’ve said something if I wasn’t comfortable, but thanks.”

“Well, when you’re feeling better maybe we can hang out,” he said with a cute little smirk.

“Um... yeah, that’d be fun,” you said.

“Then give me your phone, I’ll put my number in there,” he said, holding his hand out. Like a robot you dropped your phone into his open palm with ease. You were shocked at how quickly you did it too.

He quickly put his number in, sending himself a text so he had your number as well. He handed you your phone back carefully, giving you a little smile as you tucked it away.

“Well, I’m going to head out. But, let me know when you want to get together, I think we could have some fun,” he said with a wink before standing up and walking out the door.

Jin watched with a shocked expression while Jungkook flipped him off before blowing him a kiss.

What in the hell did you get yourself into?

--

After the most awkward meeting with the campus fuckboy, you find yourself panicking when he texts you first.

Four days later.

Your period had ended, thank god. So now, you were trying to make plans to finally get your cherry popped as it were.

Yeji thought you were being hilarious while you fretted over what to send him.

“Honestly, Y/N, he sent you a hello text with the waving hand emoji, it’s not that serious. Just say hi back,” she encouraged.

“How? What do I say, Yeji?” You cried, holding your phone to your chest as if it could help calm your racing heart.

“Legit, just say Hi with a smiley face,” Yeji said with a pout.

“Okay, okay I can do that,” you stressed.

Jungkook: hello 👋

You: hi 😊

Jungkook: are you feeling okay?

You turned to Yeji with a worried face. “He’s asking me if I’m okay! I was on my period when we spoke oh fuck I wanna die-”

“Christ! Y/N! Quit being so dramatic, it’s fine. You’re fine. It’s all fine!”

Yeji was rubbing her temples and you swallowed hard.

She was right.

This was supposed to be an even exchange between you and the fuckboy. So you might as well cut to the chase. It didn’t have to be so difficult, right?

You: yeah, I feel fine thank you.

Jungkook: sure, did you want to hang out tonight?

You: can we be transparent?

Jungkook: ah, are my male charms coming off too strong? Sorry, but this is me asking to get in your pants if you want to. If not, that’s fine too.

You: no worries. I’m interested but I’ve got a bit of an issue.

Jungkook: ah, inexperienced?

You: you know I was hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

Jungkook: 😂 I get that

You: so is that okay?

Jungkook: yeah, I’ll send you my address and you can come over.

You: okay 👌

You turned to Yeji with a panicked expression. “He wants me to come over now…”

She nodded excitedly. “Alright! Grab some of your cute underwear and go! I’ll keep my phone on, you just showered so you’re in prime time for some good ole fashioned hanky panky,” Yeji teased.

You nodded. “Alright, okay. I got this, I can do this.”

You grabbed some lingerie you bought online in a wine drunken stupor and threw it on.

The deep teal color looked ravishing on you. The bra securing your girls into place. You grabbed some stockings and rolled them up your legs and threw on a simple skirt and long sleeve shirt before heading towards the door.

Yeji gave you a reassuring squeeze before you left.

“If you need me just give me a call, okay?” She asked.

You nodded gratefully before heading out the door.

Half an hour later you were at what you hoped was Jungkook’s apartment.

You knocked on the door, standing outside and holding your arms nervously. A few moments passed before Jungkook opened the door. He looked at you before giving you a quick smile as he stepped back to let you in.

With a small smile you walked in and looked around. Everything was relatively clean. It was obvious someone lived here but at the same time it wasn’t filthy, a little cluttered in some areas but overall rather nice.

“It smells nice in here,” you commented.

Jungkook winked. “I lit some candles for you,” he said.

You rolled your eyes before putting your purse on the counter.

“So,” Jungkook said, grabbing some drinks from the fridge. “When you say inexperienced, how little we talking?”

You froze.

“Uh… well,” you squirmed as you stood in place. Trying not to feel too awkward. Usually, you were the one making others squirm with inexperience. Your brain was clearly scrambling trying to make you not sound like a complete idiot.

Jungkook approached with a drink, just a can of Coke, but it was thoughtful nonetheless.

“I’m a virgin,” you said, holding the bright red can in your hand. The moment seemed oddly poetic.

“Ah, I see,” Jungkook nodded. “Well that changes things a bit.”

You looked at him quickly. Why did he sound like that?

“I’m sorry… is-is that a bad thing?” You asked. Usually you were far more confident than this, but everything this involved was out of your depth.

“Oh, no. It’s not bad to be a virgin, sex should happen when you’re ready and comfortable. That’s not what I’m getting at. I just don’t personally sleep with a lot of virgins,” he said, shrugging as he took a drink.

“Why not?” You asked.

“Personal, but all right,” he teased. “It’s a lot of pressure to be the only one with experience. Having to teach you not only what I like but what you like too. And, virgins tend to get a little attached. Not saying that’s a bad thing, for some people their virginity is important and what not but-it’s a lot of work.”

You pouted.

Well you didn’t think about it like that. You thought all men had that inner desire to take someone’s first time. It was pretty sexist looking back on it, so you apologized internally to the general populace before looking at Jungkook to do the same.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that, I understand if you don’t want to-uh… sleep with me,” you said, rubbing your neck.

Jungkook chuckled. “Ah, that’s not the case either. I said I don’t sleep with a lot of virgins, not that I haven’t in the past or wouldn’t continue to do so. I’m just pickier, I guess,” he said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m very much interested in sleeping with you.”

“Why?” You asked, eyes big with confusion.

Jungkook came closer, starting to back your body up against his wall. “Well, physically you’re my type. And, you’re a little awkward so it’s fun to tease you. Also, I saw a peek of your bra when you bent over to take your shoes off and I almost fucking busted,” he said. “Your tits are incredible…”

You flushed at the blatant flirting.

“I can take my shirt off and show you more,” you offered, hands already on the hem of your shirt.

“Mm, maybe in a minute. Let me kiss you first,” he offered, coming closer. You instinctually tensed up, eyes shutting tight as you tried to keep your breathing level. You waited for a moment for his lips to touch yours but they never did.

All you heard was a soft chuckle. “You look like you ate a lemon, do you not want to kiss me?”

Your eyes popped open before giving him a frown. “I do, I’ve never kissed anyone though... I don’t know what to do.”

Jungkook’s brows raised. “Wow, never been kissed either huh?”

“No, I didn’t want to be distracted,” you said quietly. “But... But now I want the distraction, so, please kiss me?”

He didn’t need any more encouragement as he leaned in and brought your lips together. You didn’t know what to do so you just let him press against you for the moment, until he was pulling back and looking at you with soft eyes. “You need to breathe, Y/N,” he said.

With a woosh of air you realized you’d been holding your breath since he leaned in. Your head went spinny and Jungkook held you by your waist to keep you up, even though there really wasn’t any danger of you falling. “Easy pretty,” he cooed while making your heart race almost painfully. “Want me to kiss you more? I’ll show you how to do it,” he whispered softly against your pouting lips.

You followed the rhythm of his mouth, gently pushing when he pulled and vice versa. It wasn’t rocket science, but there was a definite pattern you had to work hard at mastering. But, finally, Jungkook pulled back with a lazy smile.

“Hey, that one was pretty good. Can you do it again?” he asked, moving in to crowd your space again.

With light hands you wrapped them around his neck. Jungkook placed his hands on the small of your back now, pressing the two of you together tighter than before. A soft gasp fell from your lips as you grabbed his shoulders.

Jungkook chuckled before ducking his head into your neck and placing soft kisses along your collarbone and shoulders.

More comfortable with the proceedings than before, you moved to allow him space to move his mouth. Jungkook sighed against you, licking his lips as he pulled back. You looked into his eyes and swallowed the lump that threatened to form in your throat.

“Let’s go to my room,” he said, eagerly moving you throughout the apartment.

Rather quickly you were moved into a tidy space that had you-admittedly-surprised.

“Oh, it’s really nice in here,” you said, looking around before Jungkook was moving into your space once more.

“Thank you, I’m thinking of redecorating,” he said, holding your waist.

“But it’s nice-”

“I’m gonna throw this shirt over there, your bra over there and your panties on the lamp,” he winked, making your heart thud dangerous in your chest.

“Wouldn’t that start a fire?”

“Not if you’re wet enough,” he smirked.

God damn, who knew fuck boys could talk like this??

You sent a prayer out to whatever deity would be listening. God? The President? An Alexa for fucksake? Anything that would keep your heart from absolutely obliterating your rib cage as this man teased you and played with your body.

However, you noticed the distinct lack of stress from your tests and exams and damned assignments. Your mind was fully occupied with Jungkook and his kisses and wandering hands.

How could you worry about those pesky responsibilities if this man killed you from lust?

Jungkook was laying you on his bed as he groped your chest with one hand while the other held him over your body. Next, his lips. They were tangled with yours, which were finally comfortable within the pattern and changes he was executing. You were a quick learner, and this was proving to be no different.

Thank fuck.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked, hands running under the hem of your thin shirt. His hands caressed your skin, making your body jolt at the newfound sensations. With hot cheeks you nodded, letting him peel the garment from you with ease as he tossed it away.

Redecorating indeed.

Jungkook gaped at your breasts sitting in your bra. Well, rather being suffocated by it at this point. His eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of your tits. He kissed the top of your cleavage, leaving gentle nips and sucks along the flesh causing shivers to roll down your spine in lust.

You leaned up briefly to unclip your bra, letting the straps drop from your shoulders and down to your elbows. Jungkook eagerly moved and helped you toss the piece away from your body.

“The color was pretty, but holy shit your tits are amazing,” he breathed, kissing your throat and neck. “Can I suck on them?”

You nodded quickly, giving him the green light which he accepted gratefully.

“Jungkook!” you gasped as he sucked a hot hickey into the bottom of your breast.

He smiled and looked at you. “Yes baby? What’s the matter?”

“That scared me,” you said, pushing his shoulder in annoyance. But honestly you were just being fussy at the embarrassment his touch was bringing you. You’d never felt this out of your depth. Not knowing stuff made you nervous, and your body didn’t understand half of what was going on. Jungkook didn’t seem annoyed, however, at your attitude. His eyes just got softer as he leaned in.

“Did it really scare you? Or are you embarrassed? Cause it’s normal, don’t be embarrassed baby, your tits are so pretty... They almost don’t fit in my palms,” he said, cupping your chest and palming one to prove his point. “So sexy...”

“F-Feels good,” you huffed softly,

He hummed, squeezing your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple teasingly. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he teased. He leaned down and captured your other nipple between his lips and lathed his tongue across it.

“Oh~” you mewled out. “Jungkook...”

“Y/N, you’re gonna make me bust in my pants if you say my name like that...”

“Just like it,” you mumbled, lips pouting as you squeezed your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensations running through your body.

“I know you do honey,” he purred, kissing your cleavage and across your tender chest. Sucking and nipping along the way, he found your nipple again and gently pulled it into his mouth, teasing it to a peak with his tongue. His thumb rolled across your other one, pinching it and tugging the flesh to bud just as the one in his mouth.

“F-Fuck...” you stammered, struggling to keep your mind functioning. It was difficult when almost all of these sensations were new. His lips kissing and touching along your lips and skin, his hand rough but tender on your flesh, his voice speaking hot and arousing words into your ears. It was a marvel you hadn’t combusted yet.

“J-Jungkook,” you whispered, making his head perk up at your breathless call.

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes matching yours as he panted. His lips were glossy from his spit that was also covering your chest.

“Don’t stop, please,” you said, voice weak and whiny.

You’d never heard yourself make noises like this. Other than when masturbating. And honestly, that usually had to be a silent affair. Burying your pleasure in your hand as you came. But you didn’t have to be quiet now, and Jungkook seemed hell bent on ensuring you were everything but.

“Fuck, I won’t,” he breathed. “Unless you tell me to stop I won’t.”

As bare minimum as that statement was, it still made you feel more comfortable around him. The words he spoke were genuine, he wasn’t going to force you.

“Take your shirt off,” you said, tugging on the bottom of it.

Jungkook smirked as he sat up from you, pulling his top up and off of his frame. He tossed it to join yours, wherever it had landed. They were long forgotten and gladly so at this point. He leaned over you once more, showing off his tattoos that had your mouth watering in surprise. You knew he had them, but to see them up close like this was something else entirely. Jungkook was fucking hot, and the further you went the more you realized this was going to be the perfect remedy for your annoying study slump.

“Like it baby?” he asked, running his thumb across your bottom lip to tease the swelling flesh with a teasing glance.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I like it a lot...”

He smiled, bringing his lips to yours once more. “Can I touch your pussy? Wanna feel you...”

“B-Be gentle,” you stuttered, despite your best efforts.

“Of course, Y/N,” he said, running his hand underneath your skirt and touching your wetness with a soft breath. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby... little pussy is waiting for me huh?”

“I-I,” you whispered, a gasp leaving your lips at his thumb pressing against your clit softly. His breath fanned across your face softly, his eyes looking at your expression with intensity.

“You need to tell me if something hurts, okay? It shouldn’t be unbearable and it won’t hurt for too long, if it does let me know,” he said, running a finger down to your entrance and teasing your hole gingerly. “Gonna be snug for me, yeah?” he asked, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them off your legs.

“Yes,” you breathed, answering both of his questions with that single word. Jungkook’s eyes leveled with yours for a moment before pushing his finger inside you. You squeaked softly, heart hammering in your chest as your pussy swallowed his finger greedily. He captured your lips in a kiss that was entirely too consuming for you to think of anything other than his presence above you and inside of you.

He didn’t even stick his cock inside you yet but it was still wholly overwhelming. Is this what it felt like to be feminine? Your whole life you hadn’t really given a shit about you. All you cared about was your passion and your drive but ultimately... you had gotten lost in the sea of success. Leaving yourself as collateral.

Jungkook was awakening things inside of you, things you weren’t certain you were ready to deal with but... But perhaps it didn’t matter right now.

All that mattered right now was the sensations he was pulling from your body. Because shit... he felt so so fucking good.

“J-Jungkook,” you whined out, hands reaching for his arms.

He shushed you, pushing another finger inside you as his thumb continued to pet your clit. “It feels like a lot, doesn’t it baby?”

You nodded your head, holding his bicep with one hand while you bit your knuckle on the other.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” he said, looking into your eyes.

“No, j-ust a lot, like you said,” you breathed, trying to keep yourself even moderately in check. But honestly? The longer you stayed with Jungkook, the less you felt the necessity to hide and be shy. He didn’t seem to be expecting anything, he knew of your lacking experience but didn’t seem dissuaded by it.

“Then you lay there and take what I give you like a good girl,” he said, kissing your jaw as he started to pump his hand inside your pulsing core slowly.

You wish you could cringe at that basic fuckboy response, but the rasp in his voice and the bob of his throat as he felt your walls clench around his fingers at his words made you unable to snark at him. Because even if it was basic, it was turning you on.

“O-Okay,” you whimpered, turning your head to connect your lips with his.

“Jesus,” he breathed, kissing you back eagerly. “You pick up quick,” he said with a soft smile. “Now kiss me like you mean it.”

You did as he said, holding his face between your hands as you kissed him messily. Jungkook kept pumping your pussy to create the desperate ache in your lower stomach and cunt. He adjusted your kiss and lips every so often, detaching from your tempting mouth to kiss at your neck and shoulder as he worked your body over.

Finally, you could hardly take it. “J-Jungkook,” you whispered. “I-I’m gonna cum, please-”

He nodded. “I’ll get you there baby, need you nice and wet when I fuck you,” he sighed, finding your tells quickly. “Cream my fingers, Y/N, want to see you do it.”

With his words ringing in your ears you cried out your release, cumming hard on his fingers just as he wanted. Your hips and thighs trembled as he rubbed your pussy walls to coax your climax through you.

“Good girl, easy baby, did so good for me,” he whispered against your chest. “Breathe, Y/N, it’s alright.”

You didn’t realize you were still shaking. You’d never felt like that before. Heart stammering just as much as the rest of your blissed out body.

“Holy shit,” you said, voice weak and thin from panting and whining.

“Made a mess babe,” he teased, eyes sparkling with desire and lust for you. He put his fingers in his mouth for a moment before looking at your core with a hungry gaze. “Can I have a taste, Y/N? I’ll be gentle...” he murmured, leaning down and kissing your lower stomach as if to hold himself back. Carefully, he slid the stockings down and off of your legs, sending you a teasing wink-as if thanking you for the sexy attire.

“Y-Yeah, you can for a bit but... but I want you to fuck me,” you said.

Jungkook chuckled before kissing your sensitive pussy with tender lips. “Believe me, if you manage to walk out of here I will count it as a failure.”

You rolled your eyes but there wasn’t any genuine irritation. His voice was coated in sarcasm and gentle teasing, making you relax even further into his embrace.

“Tug on my hair,” he said. “Want you to tug on my hair while I eat your pussy...” he husked, leading your hand to his silky locks.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you breathed, watching his head move closer to your core.

“I hope you do,” he winked before diving in.

A sharp gasp came from your throat without you even thinking about it. The reaction was utterly instinctual as Jungkook brought his tongue to your clit, rolling around it-careful of your sensitivity. He moaned against your core, as if your flavor was enough to turn him on.

Jungkook was licking and sucking loudly. It seemed so messy and utterly vulgar but you couldn’t help but watch with morbid fascination as your core leaked more and more wetness at Jungkook’s actions.

“Yes baby, give it to me,” he groaned against your core. “Fucking wet little cunt,” he growled.

“Jungkook!” you whined, hand finally gripping on the strands of his hair.

He huffed hotly against your thigh as he kissed and sucked hickies into the supple flesh. “Fuck-fuck! Your pussy tastes so good,” he seemed almost shocked. “Fucking best pussy...”

You almost questioned his statements-but he didn’t give you the opportunity, moving his mouth over your core once more. You pulled on his hair, feeling the overwhelming sensations of pleasure consuming your mind and body as he worked his tongue over your clit and throbbing core.

“M-mmm! Jungkook, Jungkook please~” you cried. “I’m so close!”

He could tell. Your core was throbbing again and you were no doubt worked up from the sensitivity of your first orgasm. His cock was fucking aching at the mere thought of getting to be inside your soaked cunt.

“Give me one more minute,” he said, capturing your clit in his mouth and sucking.

“Jungkook!” you sobbed. “I-I can’t, I’m gonna-please!” you cried desperately.

With a gentle nod he kept up his pace on your clit as his fingers plunged back inside your hole.

“Cum baby, cum and then I’ll fuck you. Gonna fuck this pussy so good, gonna make you cream my cock next,” he snarled, licking the filthy slick that covered your cunt with eager lips.

“I-I’m gonna-mm-haa~” you squealed as you came again, body heaving from the pleasure that this man ripped from your body once again.

“Easy baby,” he purred. “Feels good doesn’t it? Like my mouth on your pussy like that?” he asked, raising a brow as he licked the remnants of your orgasm from his lips and fingers.

“J-Jesus,” you hiccuped, eyes slightly teary from the intensity of the pleasure you’d received.

“Not quite baby, but I appreciate the compliment,” he said, voice breathless as he kissed you.

You registered the flavor of his kiss but there was your own mixed in and it made your stomach feel funny at the different kinds of sensations filling your body. “Jungkook,” you breathed against his mouth. “I-I’m ready now,” you panted. “Please... Please fuck me now.”

Jungkook swore against your neck before pulling his pants off and grabbing a condom from his bedside table. He tugged his boxers down and off releasing his cock and jesus fucking christ-

He was big.

It was so much different than seeing a dick in a porn video. It always seems common and typical in those scenes but in real life? In front of you like this?

It was a little intimidating to be honest.

Jungkook crawled back into bed with you, spreading your legs. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, eyes boring into yours for the answer to his question.

“Y-Yeah, just... Nervous,” you said, biting your lip.

“We don’t have to,” he said.

“I want to,” you answered quickly, realizing it was the truth. You did really want to do this. Not only to get it over with, but because maybe you were having a good time with him. You felt like someone was seeing you. Not just your cold exterior and study centric front.

The you that had always been there but just didn’t get the opportunity to be seen.

What an odd time to have a revelation such as this.

“Okay, deep breath,” he said.

You did as he said and jolted when his cock rubbed against your core, the cold sensation surprising you. “I put some lube on, it might be a little cold, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Look at me, tell me if it hurts too much okay? Shouldn’t be too bad.”

With a soft nod Jungkook pushed forward, burying his cock halfway inside you in an easy thrust.

“Ah!” you squeaked out, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Don’t tense up, try to relax,” he said, kissing your neck and jaw.

He was right. It wasn’t excruciating pain, but it was certainly uncomfortable, and it felt so much bigger than you thought.

“F-Feels like a lot,” you whispered, voice whiny and high.

“I know baby, just breathe. Doing so good,” he praised, making the glide of his cock inside you that much easier. Jungkook touched his forehead to your temple, easing himself the rest of the way in. His hand held tight to your thigh, soft pants hitting your neck.

“Jungkook,” you whispered.

“You good?” he asked, pulling back just a touch to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Like I said... just a lot.”

He nodded, moving forward just a touch to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed back, mouth now finding a pleasant rhythm with his.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips for just a moment. “Can I move? I need to fuck you before I fucking bust from how tight you are,” he moaned.

You clenched at the sound of his desperation, which caused him to rut forward into you. “Kook!” you squeaked the shortened version of his name at the sudden jutting of his hips which he quickly apologized for.

“S-Sorry, you squeezed me so fucking tight-I’m already so fucking hard.”

His words weren’t entirely making sense to you either, your mind was pretty occupied with his body more than his speaking.

It was so odd to share your body with another person. He was legitimately inside of you. How did that make any sense? But it felt so good. You hadn’t expected that part. You thought he’d touch you and you’d cum once, if you were lucky. However, you shouldn’t have doubted the prowess of the one Jeon Jungkook. Campus Fuckboy extraordinaire.

“-can I?” his voice cut in through your cock drunk thoughts.

“What?” you asked.

“Can I move now? Please? I need to fuck you now,” his breaths were short and stilted, like he was fighting to hold back the primal urge of fucking you into his mattress.

You nodded. “J-Just be careful,” you said, voice thick with want.

“Yes baby, whatever you want,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your heart was the thing that twinged after hearing those words.

Surprisingly enough. This fuckboy was more interesting than you originally believed.

His hips meeting yours in a seamless glide had a shocked moan fall from your lips. “J-Jungkook-”

“Kook,” he said above you. “I liked that one,” he panted, giving you a dopey smile. “You can call me Kook. I like when you say it, fuck,” he said, brows furrowing in pleasure. “Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

You briefly wondered if fuck was the only cuss word he knew. But you chided yourself, because honestly you didn’t even think you could speak currently.

He gave steady thrusts inside your center, making you mewl in surprise at the burning pleasure it created in your tummy.

“Kook,” you breathed, mind whirling in shocks of pleasure.

“Yeah baby, I’m right here,” he said, voice sweet as sugar. “Fucking you so good baby, do you like my dick? Like when I fuck you?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you cried, hands wrapping around his neck.

Jungkook lifted your upper body, pulling you into his lap as he kneeled on his bed. You were sitting on his lap with his cock deep inside your snug walls. You held onto him as he adjusted your legs slightly so your hips wouldn’t ache so bad.

“There baby, hang onto me, yeah? Let me fuck you like this,” he whispered, kissing your chin as he started to roll his hips up against yours. “Move back against me Y/N,” he encouraged, guiding you by your waist, grinding your ass in the cup of his pelvis. “Just like that...”

He moaned against your chest, his hand creeping down to your ass to pull you closer. As if you two were melded together enough.

“Fuck, Jungkook-feels, so big,” you whined, arms winding around his neck as you dropped your ass on your own, Jungkook’s hands guiding you.

“Yeah baby, ride my cock... feels so fucking tight inside you, best pussy right here... Where’ve you been all my life, fucking shit,” he growled, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

You were too scrambled by the feeling of sex that you didn’t quite capture the meaning of his words. Maybe that was for the best.

Jungkook’s mind was reeling. It had been a while since he’d had sex with a virgin, but he never remembers it being this intense. But shit, you squeezed him just right, making his mind stutter while you whimpered softly from his cock rolling into you deftly. It was everything he could do not to blow his load.

“F-Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna cum,” he panted. “Pussy too tight on my cock, fuck...”

“Okay-I... I’m getting close too,” you moaned.

Jungkook reached between the two of you to gently massage your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Feels good baby? Cum for me, I wanna see you do it again.”

You whined and cried at his thumb on your sensitive clit, but it was slowly pushing you to your end.

“Kook! Jungkook!” you sobbed, gripping his shoulders and upper back desperately. “Fuck!”

“Make me cum baby, come on,” he growled, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He dropped you on your back, following you shortly and slipping inside your twitching pussy.

“Yes, wanna make you cum,” you mewled. “Cum Jungkook, please,” you said.

He held you tightly, rubbing quick circles on your clit to finally push you to your third orgasm of the night.

Shockingly, he did it, making you gasp and shriek his name. He felt how tight your walls became during your orgasm and he gladly followed you in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, yes baby make me cum, holy shit-Y/N,” he groaned, jutting his hips into your sloppily. With a pleasured cry, Jungkook emptied himself into the condom.

You two didn’t know how long the aftershocks of your orgasms lasted, but you were certain it was close to five minutes before anyone spoke.

“You okay?” his voice rasped, making you turn your head with a soft expression on your face. Jungkook felt his chest stammer at the bleary but pleased look in your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

He nodded. “Sit there, I’m gonna go get us some water and help you clean up.”

Jungkook gave you a soft smile before moving away and tossing the used condom in his garbage and heading into the bathroom. Your heart was thudding hard in your chest.

You did it.

You’d had sex.

And it was the furthest thing from terrible you think you’ve ever experienced. Was all sex like this? Or was it the sex with Jungkook that happened to be incredible. You can see what all the other girls he’d slept with were talking about. He literally made your legs turn to jelly.

“Here’s some water, sit up?” he asked, moving in to sit next to you.

You flushed at the fact you both were still naked. “Thanks,” you whispered, voice much hoarser than you’d anticipated. With eager sips you drank the water, handing him the cup when you were finished. He pushed you on your back gently and moved between your legs.

With the remaining shame you had you squeaked and grabbed his wrists for a second. He looked at you, startled. “What?”

“Sorry,” you murmured. “Caught me off guard, I just expected you to have me take care of it.”

“Nah, I got it, you probably can’t walk yet either,” he mentioned before cleaning up the mess between your thighs. You shivered at the sensations but shortly Jungkook was tossing the dirty washcloth into his laundry and laying on the bed with you for a moment.

He breathed in deeply, like he had just eaten a great meal and was digesting.

“Do I have a chance to fuck you on the regular?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“What?” you asked, snapping your head to the side to look at him with shock written across your features.

Jungkook gave you a handsome smile. “If not I apologize for saying it so bluntly, but I liked having sex with you, I want to do it again. Or, you, respectively.”

You couldn’t quite believe him still. But, you couldn’t help the twinge of interest in your stomach. He was attractive, and he was offering you stress relief realistically whenever you both wanted it.

“I-I guess? I mean, what does that make us? Friends with benefits? Booty call buddies?” You wondered out loud.

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Whatever you want, I guess,” he stated.

You looked at him with a raised brow but he just gave you another attractive but cryptic smile-hiding his true emotions with the alluring smirk.

“Something tells me you don’t mean that,” you sighed. “But, I guess you text me, or I’ll text you. Whenever,” you said, moving to grab your things.

Jungkook sat down on the bed, having pulled on his boxers while watching your frame collect your clothes and start pulling them on. You sat down next to him in silence, tugging your stockings back up your legs and covering your skin that had Jungkook frowning.

“What?” You asked, turning to him.

He quickly snapped out of it, looking at you with a mock pained expression. “You could make a grown man cry baby,” he said.

“You’re going to make me cry with those lines,” you said with a sour face.

“Feisty,” he said with a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the heat that settled in your face. You’d never really been flirted with or anything of that matter, so to have him so blatantly made your heart stammer and squeeze in ways you weren’t necessarily prepared for.

Jungkook watched you grab your things, bending to grab your things from the floor and flashing your panty covered ass to him. He sighed, fighting the urge to take you again right now. Plus, you had no clue you were presenting so nicely to him-

“Quit staring at my ass,” you said with an unamused expression.

Jungkook laughed a bit before leaning back on his hands. “You’re so different when you’re not having sex.”

“You’re more annoying,” you said with a blank expression. The front was back and Jungkook found it odd how quick you went back. He wondered if you’re truly this way or if you merely didn’t know any other facets of your personality.

Something fun to discover...

“Did you want a ride back?” he offered, in lieu of a response to your sour attitude.

With a flushed expression you bit your lip.

“Yes please.”

Jungkook smiled. “Let me get dressed.”

--

Jungkook was waiting for his phone to ring. To ding. To alert him of anything in regards to you. The little virgin that had him wrapped around your finger so tightly. And you hardly knew it.

The two of you had been texting here and there, and had sex twice since the first time. And Jungkook could be honest with himself.

You were his favorite person to have sex with.

Hands down, no cap, your pussy was top notch and-and there was something about you specifically that he couldn’t put his finger on. He liked making you flustered and listening to you talk about your classes after the two of you were done fucking. You were curious about so many things, and there was a lot running through your mind at all hours of the day.

And, as much as you wanted to give off the cold bitch exterior, Jungkook knew you were kind at heart.

Because you’d been feeding a stray cat outside your dorm building for the past two weeks and he was certain if you could you would’ve brought it inside already. The weather was getting colder and you were no doubt worried that the poor thing wasn’t going to make it through the harsh weather.

“She’s so cute, Jungkook! You should come by and meet her sometime,” you said one afternoon as the two of you sat in the library while you studied.

“I don’t like cats,” Jungkook commented offhandedly.

“I don’t like you,” you snarked, and Jungkook rolled his eyes at your snotty remark. Even though he knew it wasn’t true. If you didn’t like him Jungkook had an odd feeling you’d make yourself scarce after the interactions you’ve had.

“You like my dick though,” he huffed.

You squeaked out in embarrassment and smacked his shoulder. “Shh! Don’t say stuff like that!” you huffed.

“It’s true, why deny it baby?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“God sometimes I wanna break your nose,” you sighed, turning back to your papers and looking down.

Jungkook watched your mind work, solving the problems on your paper like it was nothing. He was always impressed by your knowledge and ability to learn new things so quickly, he found that he could easily be jealous if he let himself.

But honestly, jealousy didn’t look good on him and there wasn’t much he was envious of in this world. He had a good face, good body and decent enough grades. If anything he could be a bit of a pain in the ass but the other things made up for the latter.

He didn’t say these things to be arrogant or anything, they were merely truths. People treated him differently because of these things and he wasn’t going to say otherwise. But you? You treated him just like Namjoon and Hoseok, except you let him fuck you every so often.

Speaking of...

“Hey, wanna go back to my place?” he asked, resting on his elbow.

“Why? I’m busy studying,” you said without looking up.

“I wanna fuck you,” he said, shrugging.

You sighed deeply. “I swear to God Jungkook-”

“Is that a no?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t pushing any boundaries that he shouldn’t. Honestly he hadn’t fucked anyone as consistently as he had you in the past four years of college. And he couldn’t find himself hating it either.

Jungkook had only had one serious girlfriend and that was back in highschool and honestly, he didn’t think they were that committed in the first place. Plus, teenagers hardly know what they want for breakfast, it’s hard to believe they know they’re going to be with someone for the next two weeks, let alone for the rest of their lives.

But, Jungkook was twenty five, and he was starting to think that the two of you could possibly...

Well. That might be a conversation for another time.

“Come on,” you said, standing and putting your stuff in your backpack.

“Yeah?” Jungkook said, a smile forming on his features at the thought of having you in his bed all over again.

“Yeah, I want you, let's go,” you said, not wasting any time and taking his hand.

The librarian, Seokjin, looked at Jungkook being dragged out of the library and then looked to Namjoon who was helping another student but was also shocked at the proceedings.

“Know anything about that king of the nerds?” Seokjin asked him.

“That subject is one I don’t care to study,” Namjoon said.

“Well that’s lame,” Seokjin huffed before turning back to his phone. “You kids wear my ass out.”

--

You and Yeji were hanging out in your dorm again after you fed Eden.

The orange little tabby had been coming around more frequently and it made your heart sing with joy. You’d never had a pet back home and the fact that you’d befriended such a cute little creature made your day.

Also showing Jungkook pictures and trying to sway him had turned into a new favorite pastime as well.

“Who are you texting?” Yeji asked as she came out of your bathroom, sitting on your bed with you.

“Just Jungkook,” you said, tossing your phone to the side.

“You two seem to be getting along well, huh?” she asked, raising a brow at you with a smile.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s nothing serious Yeji, just sex with some hanging out in between.”

She looked at you with an examining gaze. “He’s just having sex with you, right?” she asked for confirmation.

“I don’t know, I think so. I’m on birth control and we always use condoms so I’m not too worried about it. What, do you think I should get tested or something?” you asked.

“No, no Y/N, nothing like that I meant more of... If you two are just fucking and hanging out sometimes then, are you possibly considering dating him?” she asked.

“Huh? No, why would I date him?” you asked, feeling a trickle of uncertainty trail down your spine. Did it seem like you were interested? It’s not like you didn’t think he was attractive or anything it’s... you didn’t need any more distractions! The sex was enough of a distraction, you didn’t need anything else from him...right?

Yeji held her hands up. “It was just a question, Y/N, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve but... If there was one to hit, maybe ask yourself why?”

Because he’s not what I thought he was...

He’s nice.

He’s funny.

I like him a little more than I think I should-

“No nerve struck, Yeji,” you shrugged. “Just not interested in dating right now.” You tried your best to remain nonchalant but Yeji could tell. There was definitely a nerve she’d struck, and she thinks she knows exactly the one as well.

But, you can lead a horse to water. You can’t make it drink. Even if it’s on the brink of death. The horse must make that decision for itself.

--

When Jungkook received a call at two am from you crying he was stunned to say the least. He’d fallen asleep after studying late for his finals when he heard his phone ringing. A small smile made its way to his face when he saw your name and icon pop up.

Y/N 🐱🔥

“It’s two am baby, you need help going to sleep Y/N-”

“Kook please, she needs help!”

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up in bed at the sound of your distressed voice.

“Eden-she’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with her... She showed up outside the dorm and laid down and now she is panting hard and-I’m scared, I don’t know what to do about this. I can’t bring her in, the RA would kick my ass-”

“I’ll be there, we’ll take her to the vet, okay? We’ll make sure your kitten’s okay,” he promised. “Wait with her and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Jungkook showed up in ten minutes, and there you stood with the small orange tabby in your arms with tears in your eyes. He put the car in park and jumped out to approach you and the cat.

“Hey, Y/N-baby, don’t cry...” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down. This was the first time he’d seen you this physically upset.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, she’s so sick and I-I don’t know what happened,” you cried.

“Shh, baby,” he cooed, pulling you into a gentle hug. “I have a friend who’s a vet tech, want me to give him a call?” Yoongi would be pissed he called at fuck o’clock in the morning but he’d help when he knew what was happening.

Yoongi could be an asshole but he loved animals.

“Please,” you sniffled.

“Come sit in the car, it’s getting cold,” he said.

A phone call, a very angry Yoongi and several more tears on your end-you and Eden were finally sleeping in the clinic Yoongi worked for. You were passed out in the chair next to Eden’s temporary kennel.

“Once she poops and I can run that sample you can take her home,” Yoongi said. “The on-call vet said she should be okay, just too cold outside for her right now. Seems like she's sensitive to the cold.”

Jungkook sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, whatever she needs I’ll take care of it.”

Yoongi snickered at him which caused Jungkook to turn a very sharp glare in his direction, to which Yoongi flicked his forehead.

“Don’t be a little bitch,” the older man warned him. “She’s cute, your girlfriend? Prospective girlfriend?” he asked, nodding towards your direction. “Settling down Mr. Campus fuckboy?” He said some brutal things but most people who knew him understood it was just his style of communicating. But Jungkook sighed heavily and Yoongi seemed to understand that this was different. You were different to him.

Jungkook and looked back at you. “She’d never date me,” he said with a soft smile. “I’m just a good fuck to her.”

Yoongi tilted his head in confusion. “Odd, that’s usually the reversed position.”

“I like switching positions,” Jungkook said, with no humor in his voice.

The older man came over and really looked at Jungkook. “You really like her?”

“Something like that,” Jungkook shrugged, turning back to look at you sleeping in the chair. “Whatever she needs, I’ll pay for it.”

“The cat or her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, he didn’t need to.

—

You brought Eden home the next morning, a smile on your face as you cuddled the warm ball of fur.

Well, you brought her to Jungkook’s home. You weren’t going to be able to keep her in the dorms so Jungkook’s apartment was going to have to work in the meantime.

He didn’t pitch a fit like you had presumed he would, he was surprisingly understanding and welcoming of the little kitten that had stolen your heart.

Jungkook had bought some stuff from the clinic and Yoongi gave over some supplies they weren’t going to be using for her as well. Even getting her a small baby blue collar with a bell on it to hold her tags.

“I’ll come over to help whenever you want,” you said, turning to drop the kitten on the floor to wander about.

She sniffed around until she flopped on the plush rug and seemed to preen happily. You swooned at her adorable paws and fluffy tail, you’d never been allowed pets at home, so to have one (kinda) now was so meaningful.

Jungkook watched you, his heart sitting heavy in his ribs. He was confused, he was tired. And honestly all he wanted was to lay down. But when you turned to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips he couldn’t help but kiss back eagerly.

“Thank you,” you breathed against his lips. “Thank you for helping her, for helping me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, capturing your lips again. He really liked kissing you, finding himself leading you to his couch with his hands wrapping around your waist to grab at the small of your back.

You both tumbled onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, Jungkook kissing and sucking on your neck and collarbones. “Fuck baby,” he breathed, feeling the excitement of having you coursing through his veins.

“K-Kook,” you whined softly, willing to spend the morning fooling around with him. Especially after he helped you and Eden so much. He didn’t even tell you how much it was to give her the emergency treatment.

He promised Yoongi gave him a good deal, but that didn’t mean it was inexpensive.

Yeji’s words lingered in the back of your head but you tried desperately not to think about it too much. Because all you cared about was Jungkook’s hands roaming your body, his sweet lips kissing down your neck and to your chest.

You spent the morning tangled together, the cute purrs of a very sleepy, but content kitten in the background.

--

“You’re leading him on, Y/N,” Yeji said with a soft sigh.

“I am not! He’s not interested in dating me, Yeji, he’s the campus fuckboy-”

“When was the last time you heard him sleeping with someone other than you? When was the last time he was spotted at a party? Y/N, he’s spending all his extra time with you. You and that damned cat.”

Jungkook and you had been spending more and more time together recently. And most of it wasn’t spent fucking. It was hanging out, watching movies, playing with the cat or going out to eat.

“We can be friends that fuck around sometimes,” you twiddled your thumbs.

Yeji sighed and looked down at her papers. “He seems nice, and he likes you, if you don’t want to date him then be honest with him.”

“You were the one who told me to fuck him in the first place!” You lamented.

“Your poor decisions aren’t my fault, neither are your good ones. If you want to have a skewed moral compass that’s fine. But I’m telling you now, don’t lead a guy like him on.”

“A guy like him?” You questioned.

“One that cares about you.”

—

Fridays were your happy days. You didn’t have any classes and the weekend could be spent doing nothing but your homework, which was minimal, and lazing around with Jungkook and Eden.

The two of you had kinda dubbed Friday’s your days.

You two were watching another movie on the couch, eyes watching the screen. Jungkook was resting back in the cushions, brown orbs fluttering as he struggled to keep them open.

He’d been working extra shifts at the bar, something you hadn’t really noticed. A few projects had been due so you were more focused on getting those done than hanging around with people.

Yeji had whined to you so you decided to hang out with her for the evening the other night.

Jungkook texted you this morning asking if you were busy and wanted to chill. You anticipated a little more than watching a movie but you didn’t want to be pushy, especially since he was so tired.

“Baby,” he called.

He’d started calling you the term of endearment a while back and you hadn’t corrected him, just letting him do whatever he wanted. It was easier than listening to him complain. It also caused flutters to rise in your chest that you promptly ignored each and every time.

“Yeah?” You asked, looking at him.

“What are we?”

The words hung in the air, shocking you entirely.

What could you say to that? Did you... Did you tell him?

No, you couldn’t there wasn’t anything for you to say to him-so in a panic you let out a puff of laughter. Although, Jungkook didn’t share your humor in this situation. And you knew this was going to take a turn for the worse.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he stated.

“No you’re not Jungkook,” you played it off, the dangerous thudding in your chest making you feel almost sick.

“Y/N,” he said, voice firmer as he sat up and looked at you. “I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks, but you keep either deflecting me or telling me ‘now isn’t a good time’, when is it gonna be a good time to talk about us?” He asked, eyes glimmering.

“Y-You fuck around with people Jungkook, I’m not interested in dating a fuck boy,” you stammered.

Fuck!

Jungkook’s eyes dimmed.

“Is that all you think of me? Really, Y/N?” He asked. “After everything we’ve done? After everything I...”

He wouldn’t look at you for a moment. Or he couldn’t bring himself to do so. You swallowed thickly and watched as Eden trotted into the room. Jungkook looked to the cat and then to you before letting a defeated chuckle out of his lips.

“Who knew you’d be the one breaking my heart, baby,” he whispered.

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked at him. “J-Jungkook,” you said, trying to get a grip on your spiraling thoughts.

“I think you should go,” he said, still not lifting his gaze to yours. You watched as a few drops hit the couch.

Was he…

“Jungkook-”

“Please Y/N? I really can’t hold out long,” he pleaded, voice thick with emotion.

You scrambled to stand up and head to the door. Eden followed after you and you were about to pick her up when Jungkook called. “I’ll still watch her… I have her papers,” he said, voice hoarse like he was keeping his cries back.

“Okay… Goodbye Jungkook,” you said, walking out of his apartment, mind reeling. So much so you didn’t hear him whisper your name in grief.

“Goodbye baby…”

So much for Fridays being your happy days…

You wandered aimlessly for a while. How much time had passed? An hour? Two? Twenty minutes? You really couldn’t be certain, but you found yourself back at your dorm. You walked in and felt wetness on your face.

You were… crying?

No… You were sobbing. Your chest ached, heart pounding in your head. Why were you crying so hard? Did-Did Jungkook really mean that much to you? Or was it because you weren’t going to see Eden again? Even that thought made a sour face appear, because you couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

Because look where it got you.

Alone, all over again.

You crawled into bed and looked at your phone with watery eyes. No messages. Jungkook had been texting you goodnight recently, and asking if you’d eaten.

There was nothing.

No messages, no calls. And you felt like an idiot for expecting one, for even humoring the thought of Jungkook being okay after what you did. You did exactly what Yeji said you shouldn’t. You played with him. You wanted the relationship without the hard parts. Without the uncomfortable topics of feelings and eventual arguments and fights. And that isn’t fair.

Not to Jungkook and not to you either.

But how do you fix it? How do you tell him… that you actually might have feelings for him as well?

Would you even have the opportunity to do that at this point? Some part of you hoped that you would be able to go back to him. To tell him you were sorry.

But there was a bigger part of you that had no idea how to proceed.

—

You were sitting in the library, Namjoon trying for the fiftieth time to try and explain this portion of your assignment to you.

It had been a week and Jungkook still hadn’t reached out to you. You hadn’t even seen him at school. It was as if he didn’t exist. And that was breaking your heart more and more as time passed by.

Jungkook had become more than a booty call, and you had to him as well. And you completely disregarded his emotions and ran away like a scared puppy. You didn’t even try to listen to him, because at that moment-you didn’t care.

You cared more about your comfort than his emotions and his attempt at creating something more between the two of you.

He’d taken your virginity for fuckssake, but you were the one struggling to commit to him.

“Y/N? What’s going on with you this week? You’re really out of it,” Namjoon said.

You swallowed hard and found tears welling up in your eyes. You’d tried to bury your feelings. You tried to forget about it all. You wanted to move on, but you couldn’t. Because ultimately, you were wrong. You shouldn’t have led Jungkook on. And you shouldn’t have ignored his attempts in the past to possibly move your relationship from a casual arrangement to something more exclusive and intimate.

Possibly life changing at the end of the day.

And there was nothing you could do to stop your tears now.

Because you just wanted him back.

“Y/N? Shit, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked, moving closer to support you. “Hey… what’s got you so upset huh?”

“I-I think I like Jungkook,” you cried.

Namjoon reeled back in confusion. “T-The fuckboy?”

“I-I’ve been hanging out with him for months and we’ve fucked around but he saved my cat and I just like talking to him and-and he’s never thought of me as anything other than me… He’s made me feel like a person and not a studying machine… I fucked it up Namjoon,” you sobbed.

The older man was at a loss of what to do for you, you were still in the library and people were starting to look at the pair of you in concern.

“D-Do you want me to call Yeji? Or Hobi? Shit, uh, I c-can call-”

“Y/N!” Yeji’s voice called through the library, walking over as she started to hold you. “Hey, hey,” she cooed. “Come on, let’s get you to your dorm.”

You sniffled helplessly, like a child recovering from a massive meltdown.

“Yeah,” you whispered, gathering your things as you tried to keep your tear stricken face from plain view. People weren’t outright rude to you generally, but you knew that their impression of you was the cold bitch who only knew how to study.

It was the front you’d portrayed for years, until Yeji started to wear it down and Jungkook demolished it completely. Or so you’d hoped. Especially in regards to him.

Unfortunately for both of your hearts, yours wasn’t ready to hear its own call. To hear Jungkook’s.

Yeji managed to get you back to your dorm, and when she shut the door the waterworks started all over again. You clung to the younger girl and sobbed hard.

“Y/N?! Hey! What’s wrong, huh? What’s going on-”

“I fucked up so bad, Yeji!” you sobbed.

Yeji sighed, nodding as she led you to your bed, sitting down with you while brushing your hair away from your face. “What did you say to him, huh?”

“That he didn’t really want a relationship. That I wasn’t interested in dating someone who fucked around,” you cried.

A deeper sigh came from your friend, before a soft chuckle reached your ears. “I didn’t know it would take this much to get you to date him. Or this many tears,” she cooed.

You turned with your watery and puffy face and looked at her. “What do you mean, Yeji?”

She smiled softly. “When you started looking at his pictures you didn’t go for the sexy ones, you looked at all of the soft ones, remember? I knew you weren’t going to be able to resist.”

You looked at her with your watery eyes and she brought you into a tight hug. “I don’t think this is unfixable, Y/N, that man is kinda a big simp for you. You know he hates cats? Or he used to? He saw you with Eden that night and took her in for you, and has been caring for her with you. I think you have a chance to make this right. Just be honest, and apologize.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know where to start,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty.

“‘I’m sorry’ will probably work just fine.”

--

It sounded so easy when Yeji said it last night as she comforted you. But now you stood with Jungkook’s favorite coffee drink and you could feel your hands sweating. And it had nothing to do with the warm drink in your hands. You held another piece of paper in your hand, but you didn’t care as much about that.

At least not anymore.

You were so nervous. More nervous than you had been when you took your entrance exams, more nervous than the finals you just totally flunked. You had retakes coming up because your teachers were just as shocked at your blatant failing as you were. That was part of the project you’d been working on with Namjoon in the library when you had your meltdown the other day.

But honestly, you’d fail them all over again if it meant that Jungkook would forgive you for being such a grade A asshole. Because he didn’t deserve that.

Without any more ceremony, you knocked on the door.

“Coming!” his voice called through the door.

Your heart stammered at the sound. You didn’t realize how much you missed it after a week of not hearing it.

“Yeah-oh... Hi Y/N,” he said, eyes immediately turning distant. You panicked and shoved the coffee towards him.

“I’m failed!”

Jungkook tilted his head, confused at your stammering voice and the drink being pushed towards him. “You... what?” he asked, needing clarification.

You could feel the embarrassment coursing through you. But you’d come too far to quit now, and you needed to apologize at the very least.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you said, looking up at him with your sad expression. “I failed. I failed you first. And in turn, I failed myself and... and us,” you said, the words falling from your lips without much thought. And once they started, they didn’t stop.

“I failed my finals,” you whispered. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was supposed to be studying. I couldn’t stop thinking about the nights on the couch when we would cuddle with Eden and drink coffee. I missed our laundry days, I missed watching movies. I-I missed you. I fucked up, I disregarded your feelings because I wasn’t ready to accept my own... It was wrong of me and I-I’m sorry,” you breathed.

He seemed stunned.

And to be honest, he was. You weren’t known for apologizing for anything. You had this front that Jungkook could see through the moment he’d approached you in the library. At first he thought you were just hot and wanted to fuck, but as you two started to hang out more, and fuck more, he found that he just thought your closeness and tender heart with tsundere exterior was cute.

Now that you’re here, apologizing to his face. He knew how much this must’ve taken, he’d have to thank Yeji for helping you once more. No doubt the time apart had hurt you just as much as it had him. And he was surprised when he didn’t even want to drown his sorrows in another woman, or alcohol. He just looked at the few photos of you in his phone and snuggled that damned cat he was certain would be the death of him.

But, that was all a conversation you two could have later.

Right now, he was interested in the paper in your hand.

“What are you holding?” he asked, in lieu of an answer.

“My final,” you said, looking at him with your beautiful eyes he swore he could get lost in sometimes.

“Why did you bring your final to me?”

“Because I failed. I failed almost all my finals this semester.”

Jungkook was shocked, because you’d said it but he didn’t necessarily expect you to fail that badly. Was it failing in your eyes or in the eyes of actual academia?

“What did you get?” he asked.

“Thirty-seven percent,” you said with a hot face.

Jungkook was stunned now. Because that was failing. No doubt about it. “W-what? Baby that’s awful... I’m sorry-”

“You called me baby,” you whispered. A small smile on your face. “C-Can I come in?”

He sighed and opened the door, letting you inside of his apartment. You moved inside and set his coffee down on the counter before Eden came trotting into the entryway with a very loud meeeooowwww!

“She’s been such a little shit,” he laughed. “I think she missed you, mommy.”

“I missed you,” you said to the cat, a smile on your features as she rubbed against you and meowed happily. She flopped down on her side and you rubbed her face and belly, surprisingly remaining unscathed. When she seemed content and pranced away you stood and turned to Jungkook again. “I missed you too. A lot.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “I missed you too, baby,” he said. “I accept your apology.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, looking at him with a tenderness he didn’t see coming. “I-I want to be with you, Jungkook.”

He came closer, bringing you into his arms, kissing your temple. “Then that’s where you’ll be, baby. With me.”

With that he moved his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your lower back and squeezing you tight to his body. You sighed happily, curling into his warmth and embrace as you felt the course of want throb through your body. Jungkook’s hand moved from your lower back to your ass and squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smirked. “Yeah? Wanna have make up sex?”

You flushed at his blatant egging you on, but you also hadn’t had him in so long and you really wanted to kiss him and hold him. As mushy and gross as that was, it made your heart flutter to know he wanted you just as much. You didn’t want to be ashamed of the joy this man brought you. So you kissed him back as your answer, following his lead to his bedroom. Jungkook squeezed your hips and kicked his door shut.

“Jump baby,” he encouraged. You did as he asked and jumped into his waiting arms, making a soft squeak when his hands grabbed onto your ass.

“Jungkook,” you murmured, kissing his jaw and up to his ear. He sighed in pleasure as your sweet mouth worked eager pecks into his skin, causing goosebumps to raise along his arms and neck.

“Yes, fuck...” he groaned, cradling your neck as he carried you to his bed.

After a few more hot kisses he laid you down carefully, towering over you with a hungry expression on his face, but also feeling oddly emotional to have you now.

“Gonna fuck you baby,” he promised, bringing his lips to yours once more. His mouth was warm and comforting as he teased his tongue inside. You let him in and let the heady kiss continue to fuck you up more and more.

“Want you,” you breathed. “I always want you, Jungkook... Want to be yours,” you whispered.

“You are mine,” he growled, capturing your mouth again and again. It seemed you could barely breathe without him trying to steal the very words and breath from your lungs through his kiss.

You lifted your legs to cage in his waist as he started to press you further and further into the bed. With devious hands you tugged on his shirt to pull it off his body. He let you, allowing the material to fall to the floor and surging back to connect your mouths.

It didn’t occur to you how much Jungkook liked kissing you until you had him trying to suck your soul out of your mouth like this. But it only added to the heat and desire in the situation. To be desired and to desire someone, it was consuming the two of you in this moment.

You were consuming each other. And you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to stop. Ever.

“Jungkook~” you called when he started sucking on your neck and shoulder. He bit down and caused your legs to squeeze his waist from the pleasure.

“Yes baby, fuck...” he encouraged, dipping on hand under your skirt to touch your soaking core. “So wet...” he marveled, licking and sucking his way back to your mouth. “Let me touch?”

“Yes! Please, please touch me,” you begged, rolling your hips forward. You’d been with Jungkook several times at this point. You knew what to do to make him crazy, and how to pleasure yourself with his body against yours.

He groaned, your pleading tone making his cock throb with need. “Want my fingers pretty? Want me to make you cum on my tongue?”

You nodded quickly, the idea of his hot mouth on your aching center had you mewling his name. “Jungkook! Jungkook please,” you cried.

“Of course, love eating your little cunt,” he moaned, pushing your skirt up and away from your center. His greedy hands pulling your panties to the side and he didn’t waste any time before connecting his mouth to your wet heat.

“Jungkook!” you cried, head falling back into his sheets as he pleasured you. “Fuck, feels so good!” You found your hand tangling into his hair, tugging as he licked at your clit with his tongue flattened.

If there was one way Jungkook would like to go out of this world, it was with his head between your thighs, because he was sure this was the closest thing to heaven. You tasted incredible to him, and your sweet whimpers and mewls while he ate you out drove him insane in the best way.

You were writhing in pleasure, Jungkook pushing two fingers inside your heat to egg you closer to the orgasm you desperately craved. He moaned when you gave his hair another sharp tug, making his hips buck into the mattress to try and relieve the pressure in his lower stomach and throbbing cock.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Taste s’good,” he slurred against your pussy. It made your mind dizzy with how much he enjoyed pleasuring and tasting you. You worried about it when you first started having sex. You thought men didn’t particularly like it, and before you’d even started you worried he wouldn’t like it or wouldn’t be interested in doing it but boy oh boy. Jungkook very quickly proved you wrong.

He seemed to get off on it almost as much as you.

“Jungkook!” you whined, feeling his fingers thrusting inside you gingerly to ease you into opening up. “Baby~”

“That’s it, my good girl,” he purred, licking at your clit again to give you the extra push he knew would send you over the edge into bliss.

Your legs tensed around his head and Jungkook moaned into your core as you found yourself being thrown into your orgasm with little warning. “Jungkook! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

He eased you through it, gingerly thrusting his fingers while softly kissing your core. “Good girl, cum for me...”

“Baby... Need you, let me suck your dick? Please? Wanna taste you too,” you pleaded, reaching for his pants.

Jungkook was a weak man for his girlfriend begging to suck his dick. Especially when his girlfriend was you. Your sweet pleading eyes looking at him. How could he resist?

“Of course baby, all for you...” He said, standing up to pull his pants and boxers off in one swift motion while you tugged your shirt and bra off frantically, tossing them to meet his on the floor.

Once you two were naked, Jungkook approached with his hard cock in his hand as he slowly pumped himself to relieve the desperate ache he felt. “Gonna suck me baby?” he asked, watching with hooded eyes as you lowered yourself to the floor on your knees.

“Yes, wanna suck you off,” you said, kissing his lower stomach with tender kisses. Jungkook sighed happily at your sweet mouth but soon you were replacing his hand with your own, pumping his length while biting your lip and looking into his eyes with your demure gaze. “You know, I’ve never been one for nicknames in the bedroom... but I think I can make an exception...”

Jungkook raised his brows at you, hips jolting at the thought of you calling him a name in the bedroom. You’d kept it pretty basic with ‘baby’ and his name, which wasn’t a bad thing. He much preferred your helpless cries of pleasure than any name...

But, Jungkook was also a rather simple man in the bedroom and he had the common name kink.

“Gonna call me daddy baby?” he asked, teasing your lip with his thumb.

“If you want,” you said, licking his tip and opening your mouth to let some of his cock move inside your warmth.

“Fuck, yeah,” he nodded. “I want you to, please baby...”

“Yes daddy,” you purred, taking his cock deeper in yet.

Jungkook dropped his head back, succumbing to the pleasure that was your pretty mouth. You had learned rather quickly how to suck his dick and he couldn’t say he wasn’t appreciative. It wasn’t easy to learn someone else’s pleasure and how they liked to be treated and handled outside the basic respectful ways, but you had always known his tells and spots almost right out the gate.

It was honestly almost annoying at first. But fuck if it didn’t feel amazing right now. You massaged the tip with your tongue while gently bobbing your head along his shaft and palming his balls with a firm yet careful grip.

His hand came to collect your hair in a ponytail that he gathered in his fist as you kept sucking him off. His mind reeled with the pleasure your hot mouth gave him, his abs clenching gently at your gags and chokes as you continued to push his cock further down your throat.

“Yessss, baby, fuck-lemme fuck your throat? Huh? You’ve gotten so much better at it,” he asked, raising an attractive brow at you and you couldn’t help the wetness that pooled between your thighs.

“Whatever you want, I’m yours,” you said, opening your mouth further and letting him grab your head a little firmer before starting to shallowly thrust inside your mouth and throat.

You inhaled through your nose, easing your throat to relax as he kept thrusting gingerly. “Doing good baby, keep breathing, fuck-argh, your little mouth feels so fucking good,” he growled, gritting his teeth as he felt your throat constrict around his cock.

You gagged softly as his dick hit the back of your throat and even pushed a little beyond. But the expression he wore on his face made your thighs clench. He looked so fucking hot like this, eyes hooded and glazed with lust and sweat starting to form on his temples. You wanted to please him, so you swallowed causing his thighs to tremble slightly from the pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N, need to fuck you now. Or I’m gonna bust down your throat,” he sighed, pulling you off of him and licking his lips. “Want me inside you baby?”

You nodded, getting up and heading to the bed. Just as Jungkook went to the bedside table to grab a condom you reached for his hand.

“Hey... You haven’t fucked anyone else right?” you asked, voice small and soft.

He shook his head. “No baby, not since we started.”

“Then... I’m on the pill, if you want to go raw?” you asked, voice sheepish.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You-You want to?”

You flushed in embarrassment but nodded. Because it was true. You did want to have him that way. “I-I want to know what it’s like.”

He moved in closer to kiss you, watching you drop back onto his bed and nestling into his sheets. Jungkook brought his hand to your center to find you soaking, making a soft smirk spread across his features. “Want me to fill your pussy baby? Want me to cum inside you?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes please daddy, fill me up?” you begged.

Jungkook wasn’t going to deny a request as sweet as that. “Spread your legs,” he said, moving his hands from your center to hook into your knees as you moved to accommodate him between your thighs.

“Please baby... don’t make me wait anymore, I missed you so much,” you whimpered.

“No more teasing baby, I’ll put it in,” he promised, running his cock between your lips to get it wet with your juices before he pushed in slowly.

You whined as you felt the full feeling of him moving inside of you. “Kook~” you mewled, reaching for his hand. He intertwined your fingers, bringing his other hand to your thigh to hold it in place.

“Yeah baby? Feel good?” he asked, setting a steady rhythm that had your heart thudding in your chest.

“Yes daddy! Feels so fucking good, love your cock in me,” you breathed, squeezing his hand as he picked up the pace and started pushing into you faster.

“Wanna fuck you hard baby, wanna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum,” he growled, moving to kiss and suck at your chest. You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck as he thrusted inside you.

You could feel every inch of him. As practical and smart as condoms were, holy shit this felt incredible. You could feel him, the heat of his cock and the hardness that sent your mind into a dizzy swirl of arousal and desire.

“Please... Please fuck me baby, wanna feel your cum,” you hiccuped, crying out when he took your nipple in his mouth and sucked on it.

You felt a shiver of bliss run across your body, Jungkook’s body moving on top of yours and creating the desperate ache of your orgasm building within you.

Jungkook was panting against your skin, holding your leg up as he pounded into your wet heat over and over again, making his own mind swirl in desperation. “Fuck... fucking tight pussy, you feel so fucking good baby... Like my cock inside you? Like me fucking you hard?”

“Yes! Yes daddy!” you sobbed, gripping his back and digging your nails in as Jungkook groaned in pleasure.

“Such a wet little cunt, you like this big dick huh baby? Like daddy fucking you hard with his big cock, like a good little slut. Feels so good, shit,” he groaned, rutting his hips into yours and encouraging you to grind your hips against his. “Yes, just like that.”

“Kook! Kook! Baby,” you cried, moving to kiss him as he aggressively fucked you into his mattress. The lewd sounds of skin clapping together filled the room, your moans and cries flooding Jungkook’s ears.

“Yes, fuck yes give it to me baby, fuck yourself stupid on my cock,” he snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you tugged his hair. “Want to see you cream baby, need to feel your tight pussy cum on me.”

Jungkook kept his pace firm inside of you, effectively slamming you into his mattress as you held onto him for dear life. He hadn’t been rough with you like this in a while, but it was also not aggressive in the way you thought it would be. Even though he was fucking you like a savage, it was from a place of passion. He couldn’t hold himself back because you felt too good, he wanted to feel you.

Every inch of him filled you and had you gasping and clinging to him. “Please baby, wanna cum! Wanna cum for you daddy, make me cum for you?” You pleaded.

“Of course, pretty girl, I��ll make your pussy cum hard for me. Make you cream this cock,” he panted. “Want to see my cum pouring from your cunt, fuck!”

“Then give it to me,” you said, your legs hooking behind his back as he fucked into you harshly.

“Fuck! Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, bringing his thumb to your clit to urge you closer to the edge he found himself rapidly approaching. It had been a while since he’d had sex with you and he hadn’t gone raw in a long while and he knew he wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he’d hope for.

But you didn’t seem to be too concerned about it, just as eager to cum for him as he was for you.

“Cum baby! Please, right there! So close,” you cried.

“Y/N! Baby! Fuck,” he growled out as he bucked his hips into your aggressively while painting your insides white with his thick cum. You gasped at the feeling of his cum inside you and it threw you over the edge into your own orgasm.

Jungkook ground against you harshly, whining his release. “Fuck baby... Made me cum so fucking hard, good girl,” he mumbled out, bringing his lips to yours sweetly. “Breathe baby, breathe with me.”

You followed him, looking into his bleary eyes with your own fucked out ones.

It wasn’t nearly as long as it usually was, but you didn’t give a damn because it was some of the most intense sex the two of you had thus far.

Hopefully there were more fun things like that in your future.

Meeeeooooowwww!

You and Jungkook startled at Eden moving out of his closet.

“Oh what the fuck, did the cat watch us?” Jungkook lamented.

“She doesn’t care-”

“How did she even get in here?!” he sighed, already coming down from his orgasm as he pulled out of you. His eyes connected with your dripping core and he couldn’t help himself. He moved forward to lick your center when the cat jumped up on the bed.

“Hi baby,” you cooed and Jungkook sighed.

“I’m a little busy cat,” he grumbled, looking at your center with wanton desire. You smiled and sat up to place a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“Want to get in the shower?” you asked, raising a brow at him. “She hates water.”

“Yes, lets go-”

Meeeeooowww!

“Shut up cat!”

You giggled at the two of them before leading Jungkook into the bathroom. Your hearts beat against each other as you pulled each other into the shower. Jungkook’s hands were quick to settle on your hips and you could feel the relief at being in his arms again.

It had taken a little finessing, but finally you were able to speak your mind. Speak your truth to Jungkook.

He’d given you his heart and you’d given him yours in turn, and you’d cherish this for as long as you could. You weren’t sure if you were destined to be, you weren’t sure if you’d last a month dating.

But it didn’t matter. At this moment, you two were together.

And that was enough.

[almostempty]

Want You Bad

Self Esteem Part 2

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel ignores you at the lake until he can't. Loosely inspired by the song Want You Bad by The Offspring (to stay on theme, ya know?).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), smash and dash, get railed against a truck, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, dirt, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: major thanks to everyone who read part 1, as well as my muse @auteurdelabre , and my co-chair of the horny4joel club @lovely-vamp-princess for encouraging me

WC: 4.8K

AO3: Here | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 3: Kick and Scream

Part 4: The more you suffer

Your fingers hover over the brightly lit screen of your phone. Your friend, Katie, invited you to a barbecue at Toad Lake and assured you it would be a relaxed group. Just food, drinks, sun, and swimming. But how can it be relaxing if Joel is going to be there? If he was even invited. If he even shows up. He drives you insane. It’s her fault anyway. 

Katie’s boyfriend was friends with Tommy. Tommy invited Joel to some karaoke night at a bar a few months back. That was the catalyst for your personal hell. You don’t even know why he showed up; he refused to sing anything. But he did offer to give you a ride home so Katie could leave with her man. 

You were surprised by the gesture. The way he’d barely said anything to you all night made you think he wasn’t interested in remembering your name. But the way his shoulders filled out the green flannel he wore and then when he rolled up the sleeves? He was like The Brawny Man come to life. And that paper towel mascot lookalike was so your type. In fact, the way he nearly flat-out ignored you was also a turn-on but not one you thought your therapist would approve of. So when he offered a ride, you accepted. 

You tested the waters on the ride home, attempting to make some small talk. He was different one on one. Charmed you with his sharp wit and some flirty compliments. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him, his hands, his arms, his profile, and his dark features in the glow of the streetlights. You lingered when he pulled up to the curb in front of your place. 

“I’m glad you drove me home,” you said, “it was nice to get to know you a little bit.” 

“Was nice,” he agreed dragging his thumb under his bottom lip, pulling your attention to his mouth,  “I’d like to get to know you a little more.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at that and smiled back. “Would you like to come inside?” you floated the offer, and the look on his face sealed the deal. 

But today, you haven’t heard from Joel in over a week. He doesn’t usually last much longer than two weeks before you find him at your door. He disappears just long enough that you start to build up the courage to tell him off for being a flake. The only reliable thing about Joel, though, is that when he does show up, he always leaves you feeling completely spent. What’s the harm in enjoying what he can do with his body? You don’t think you spend an unhealthy amount of time daydreaming about him. 

You don’t want to anticipate seeing him at the lake and get disappointed if he’s a no-show. Instead, you’d rather your chest constrict with anxiety until Saturday while you debate sending him a text to ask him yourself. You decide against it. You don’t want to double-text since he never answered your last message anyway. 

Saturday arrives quickly, and it’s the perfect day to be at the lake. Clear skies and hot sun. Your car is an oven as you slide your beach bag and cooler backpack into the backseat. You sit in the driver’s seat and roll down all the windows. You flip down the visor to look in the little mirror at your reflection.  

It’s casual, you remind yourself. Just friends, food, and floating in the lake. You put on some waterproof mascara anyway, definitely not because Joel might be there. You look casual. You found your favorite black bikini last night and tried it on to make sure it still fits the way you like. Basic triangle top and bottoms with strings that tie on your hips. It still fits snugly but without cutting into your back or shoulders. It hugs everything in the right places and displays all the right skin. For your friends. At the casual barbecue. 

You stare at yourself, practically pointing a finger at your reflection to drill the idea into your head. If he’s there, it doesn’t mean anything. If he wants to be nonchalant, you’ll be nonchalant even harder. And you’ll look good as you do. Give him a taste of the same rejection you keep experiencing. 

Toad Lake is almost a secret. It’s small, outside of town, and private except for one small area with access to swimming and a small dock. When you and Katie lived together, you used to hit it up after work. Jumping off the dock unless there were people fishing. Or just floating near the shore with pool noodles while debriefing about the day. 

You pull off the main road onto the winding gravel road that takes you to the public access. It’s dense with trees and full of potholes. You bounce along in your car, listening to the gravel crunch under the tires. 

Parking is tight. The first lot only fits five or six cars on the gravel spots, and past that, maybe another seven or eight would fit in the dirt spots. You recognize most of the cars already parked as you pull into one of the furthest spots. You don’t see Joel’s truck, and your stomach drops with a wave of disappointment as you pull in between someone else’s truck and a jeep. You don’t want to think about him or feel let down. 

There’s a short but steep and winding path that leads to the water. You round the corner, finally able to see through the trees to the beach, and recognize him immediately. The unmistakable frame of Joel Miller. The shape of his body and that signature stance. You’d recognize him by the back of his head in a crowd with one eye closed. Butterflies stir in your stomach, and at the same time, your throat feels dry. 

He’s such a dick, you think as you trudge down the path in your sandals. Maybe you should ask him if his phone still works. No. That would blow up in your face. You’d just be broadcasting that it hurts when he rejects you. You do not want to face that fear. Maybe coming here was a total mistake. Regret and fear claw viciously at your throat with each step you take. 

Joel seems to dance around you, just avoiding being on your path as you greet everyone and catch up. Tommy is friendly and chats with you for a moment before getting Joel’s attention, forcing you to interact. 

“You remember Joel, right?” he asks. 

You laugh brightly. “Of course, the one and only,” you say with a smile. 

Joel nods at you. Doesn’t even say a fucking word. His dark brown eyes just bore into you for the longest second before giving you a curt smile. Tommy laughs at something while Joel turns away to find something to look busy with. Or someone. You gawk briefly as you watch him turn to chat with some woman you don’t know. 

Blowing you off on your attempts at dates is one thing, but acting like he doesn’t even know you? What the fuck is with this guy? Who’s the woman he seems so friendly with? 

You remember how to close your mouth and decide to set up your spot along the beach. You strip off your T-shirt and adjust the straps on your bikini. Rifling through your bag for some sunscreen, you find the lotion first. Smiling to yourself, you imagine asking Joel to help get your back. Would he refuse? Would his lady friend be jealous? You actually don’t want to know. You dig around until you find the spray sunscreen. You don’t need a man applying any cream to your back. 

You swear you feel his eyes burning into you, but when you look around, he’s turned and talking to her. Whatever. You figure it’s safest for your sanity to head straight for the water. You grab your pool float and start to blow it up. You feel that burning sensation again, but you turn, and he’s busy swigging down a drink. You grab one for yourself, and with a drink in one hand and the pool float under the other arm, you march right into the water. It’s perfect. Just warm enough, it doesn’t shock your system. Cool enough to ease the oppressing heat of the sun. 

“The water is perfect! Why am I the only one in here?” you call to Katie. 

“Alright, I’m coming!” she calls back. 

You laze in the water for most of the afternoon. Chatting with friends, cheering on a wobbly friend learning to stand on a paddleboard, and just resting peacefully. 

Joel sits in a beach chair, observing. You stare back under your sunglasses, hoping it’s not noticeable. Your thoughts spiral again. What is his issue? You aren’t good enough? He doesn’t wanna get caught talking to you? You consider cornering Tommy to dig up some dirt, but it’s too late. Joel is pulling his shirt over his head. You’re locked on. You fight to keep from reacting. His sun-kissed frame strolls towards the lakeshore. You watch as he gets waist-deep before he pushes off and glides through the water. When his head re-emerges, and he shakes the water from his hair, you feel your mouth drop open. You quickly fill it with the beverage in your hand. 

You keep staring. Watching the beads of water roll down his shoulders. You’d like to sink your teeth into the skin on his neck. You’d like to wrap your legs around his hips under the water—“oh, shit!” you yelp. 

A kid swimming behind you got a little too excited, kicking water and splashing it all over your face. You grimace. You didn’t mean to swear at the kid. It was just the shock of it. No big deal. Since your hair is wet now anyway, you might as well get all the way in the water. 

You drop off your floaty and empty drink on your blanket. Tossing your sunglasses off, too. You walk back into the water and dive under yourself. It’s refreshing. You’re close to Joel when you pop up again. He looks at you this time. Acknowledges you’re a real, live human in front of him. 

“All wet now, huh?” he smirks. 

“Oh, fuck off, Joel,” you scoff at him. You swim away before he can say anything else. 

You lay out, letting the sun dry your wet skin. Until you’re ready to leave. The idea of a shower and aircon sounds pretty good to you. You gather your things, say your goodbyes, and hike up the path to your car. 

With your bags in the backseat, you grab your towel. Your bikini and hair are still dripping wet. You squeeze your hair with the towel when you hear someone approaching. You look over your shoulder, and of course, it’s him. You turn away, continuing to towel at your hair. You can feel his body hovering behind yours. 

“Hey, baby,” he says, low and syrupy.

“Are you joking?” you spew incredulously, not bothering to look at him. “Where’s your girlfriend?” 

“My what?” 

“I didn’t catch her name.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, baby. It’s not like that.” His large hands wrap around either side of your hips. “Y’look nice in this,” he coos, ignoring your spite and toying with the strings tied at your hips. You turn and shove at his chest. He leans against the truck behind him. 

“Why are you up here, Joel? You want to ignore me around our friends, then follow me to my car like a dog? You’ve got fuckin’ problems, man. Why are you looking at me like that?” 

He’s smiling at you like it’s endearing that you’re telling him off. 

“Oh my god, let me guess. You think I look sexy when I’m mad?” 

“No,” he defends and steps closer. He runs his fingers under the strap on your shoulder. His touch burns white hot against your skin, branding you. You shiver. “You always look sexy,” he rasps. It’s not charming. He’s still an ass. But it feels so good when he says it. He’s so close you can smell the sunscreen and sweat on his skin. Everything about his presence chips away at your defenses. 

“Could barely stand watching you in the water,” he adds. When did his mouth get so close to you? His hot breath runs over the shell of your ear. “Want you bad.” 

“Liar,” you argue with less venom. 

“Am not,” he hums. A hand slides up your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes are heavy with lust. He’s still smiling. You wonder if that’s how he’d look if you woke up next to him. A dreamy smile with his tousled hair and scruffy cheeks. 

He takes your hand, so delicate compared to his. Slowly, he brings it towards his body and wraps it around the stiff bulge in his swim trunks. “Feel like I’m lying?” He watches the tiny muscles in your face twitch as you suppress your reaction. Then your brows pull together, and you glare. 

“You think you can just follow me up here, get your hands on me, and then what? You’ll have me on my knees in the dirt for you? You think I wanna catch some dirty lake water disease from your cock in my mouth?” 

He squeezes your hand harder like his dick will argue for him. Maybe you’d hear it out. 

“You gonna tell me you don’t want this?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, “bet you’re wet from more than just the lake, pretty baby.” He’s not wrong, but you’re not going to admit it. Wait, did he say pretty? A laugh, shriek, and loud splash from the lake below breaks you out of his trance. Your tunnel vision expands. You pull your hand from his grip. 

“Why are you up here, Joel?”

“Couldn’t just watch you leave.” 

You scoff at him and whip back around. You’re quick, but he’s bigger and stronger. His hands pull at your hips, slamming your body back into his. The damp skin of his chest sticks to your back. 

“We’re not fucking in the parking lot,” you snap. You can feel how hard he is. Pressed against the curve of your ass. His swim trunks and your wet Lycra bikini are the only barriers between you. 

“Maybe s’what you get for being a filthy fuckin’ tease,” his gravelly voice rumbles in your ear. 

“How am I a tease?” you squirm against him, but the friction only makes both of you more pathetic as you gasp and he groans.

“Wearing this.” He pulls at the string of your bikini on one shoulder and lets it snap back. “Laying on that towel, ass up, like you were waiting for me to fill it,” he squeezes a cheek for emphasis, “floating in the water with these perfect tits barely hidden.” He pulls at the triangles of fabric covering them, sliding them apart until your breasts pop out. Exposing you under the shade of the trees. 

“You’re delusional,” you accuse. But all the venom is gone. The words come out breathy. His body is wrapped around you, constricting. His hand travels down your stomach, slipping under the bikini and between your legs. His fingers find exactly what they were searching for. Your slick folds part easily, welcoming his fingers deeper. 

“Doesn’t feel like a delusion to me, baby.” Wretched man. Always has to prove a point. You’re running out of the mental fortitude to argue. You also feel ridiculous, standing between someone’s truck and your car, tits out, his hand between your legs. 

“Isn’t someone gonna wonder where you are?” you try to find a reason you should stop. 

“No, said I had to make a call.” 

“A call? So your phone does work,” you chide, using your last brain cell. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy, effectively shutting you up. A moan is the only noise you can form. 

“Thought I already taught you to quit arguing with me.” His irritation is muffled by his lips pressed into the skin of your neck. 

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“You wanna try askin’ nicely?” he goads in your ear. His fingers curl as he drags them in and out of you. You let yourself focus on the sensation. Your head falls, chin to your chest, and you watch the muscles and tendons in his arm flexing and rippling while he works you into a needy mess. It’s hot. His arm is firm and tan from days spent working in the hot sun. Against the soft, cushiony flesh of your curves, it’s almost menacing, but it provides you with support. Like he could balance you forever against his one arm. He might have to if your knees give out. 

The noises coming from you both are obscene. You feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades, slowing down time. Joel moves shamelessly, his hips roll and grind into the swell of your ass. He’s curled around you like a wild beast claiming his prize in the forest. It gives you some kind of sick ego trip; he hurt you, but now he’s here attached to you with desperate want. You slide a hand behind your head, feeling for his soft, damp hair on the back of his head, confirming this whole perverse scenario is real. You tug at his hair, eliciting a rough groan from his lips. He seems to have forgotten his own question, entranced by you. 

Joel watches the sweat beading on your chest and runs his hot tongue up your neck into the hinge of your jaw. He savors your sweat-salted taste with a deep hum that vibrates from his chest into your spine. It lights sparks along your nerves. 

You grind back against him as his palm presses firmly into your clit, and his fingers keep stroking at just the right spot. The pressure building feels overwhelming. He’s all consuming the way he surrounds you. The sound of his breath, his scent, the way your skin sticks against one another, it floods your senses. Your breath quickens, and your muscles coil tight with tension, buzzing with need. 

“Give it to me,” his words scrape across gravel. The tension in your core snaps, abdomen spasming, and your pussy clenching at his fingers for more. The hand you have on the back of his neck clings tightly for support. He loosens his grip around you and slows his movements as you start to take deeper and deeper breaths of air. Fresh air. Because you’re in the parking lot at the lake. Your senses sharpen, and your vision clears. You fix your bikini top in a rush, adjusting the fabric and straps fighting through your tangled mess of limbs crossed with Joel’s. 

You can hear other footsteps on the path. Turning to face Joel, you flash a smile on your flushed face at him. 

“Good timing,” you quip as you look beyond Joel and past the bed of the truck to see who’s coming up the path. You wave at a couple of friends as they carry their bags to their vehicle. Joel doesn’t turn to look. Doesn’t seem to move a muscle. You look back at his face. 

One brow raised; he looks like he knows something you don’t. A frown pulls at your face. He executes his maneuver before you can devise a retort for his expression. He yanks hard on the ends of the bows that tie your bikini bottoms together. Your jaw drops as the fabric falls. Your hand flies out to slap his chest at the audacity, but he grips your wrist in his hand. 

“Not nice to hit people, baby,” he condescends as if you were the one in the wrong. You’re fuming. Blood boiling. 

“What–” you’re cut off by his other hand grabbing your jaw with a vice grip. 

“Quiet,” he snaps. You hear the sounds of the car backing out and pulling away. Tires kicking up a cloud of dust. You can’t see past Joel’s wide frame as he holds your head in place. You grab at his forearm, but it’s useless. You’re defenseless in his grip. Vulnerable between the vehicles and the trees. Why does that make your cunt ache and throb? You squirm. “You gonna behave?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question. 

“Uhuh,” you respond through your clenched teeth, your lips unnaturally squished and parted between his fingers and thumb. You give up on prying at his arm and run your hand down his bare chest towards his swim trunks instead. Your touch brings a smirk to his face. 

“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. Reading your sordid motives like a love letter, he carries on. He drops your jaw and readjusts your positioning. Joel moves you with ease. He lifts you and backs you into the window to the backseat of the truck, his hands under your thighs. If you had any sense left, you might consider it vulgar to be fucked wide open in a parking lot, but the animalistic expression on Joel’s face wipes your mind blank. You lock your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as if he were the one caught in your trap. He looks at you like he’s trying to etch all the details of you in this position into his mind. It stirs that depraved sense of pride in your chest. 

“Take it out,” he orders. You obey. Snaking a hand between your bodies to free his cock from his swim trunks. Both of you watch, chins tucked to your chests as your hand wraps around his stiff shaft. The sight makes your mouth water. He seems similarly affected. You think you’ll have hand-shaped bruises on the back of your legs the way his grip tightens and his fingertips dig into your skin. He leans closer, seeking your slick, wet entrance. You guide his leaking tip with your own pleasure in mind instead. He watches as you use him like a toy. You swirl the head of his cock around your swollen clit. The pressure and heat blur your vision. You slip him through your folds until he’s coated in your glossy arousal. You keep playing, creating lewd noises between your legs. He’s talking to you, you realize, and tune back in. 

“Keep teasin’ like that. Gonna fuck you til you can’t walk. Give it to this needy little pussy the way no one else can, right, baby? Stretch you out and fill you up. Send you home dripping.” He rambles on with his threats. They make you dumb. 

“Fuck, please, please, please,” you respond with tight exhales. 

His head shoots up. 

“You hear that?” he asks, and you freeze. Straining to listen. You can hear the birds in the trees. The muffled voices down at the lakeshore. You listen for voices or footsteps getting closer, but they don’t exist. 

“Hear what?” you pant. 

“The sound of you begging for my cock.”

Your face heats. You feel another surge of arousal flood your already-soaked center. 

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

“It’s a pretty sound, baby. Want you to be bad.” His words light something fierce inside of you. You need him inside you, now. He doesn’t help as you wiggle in his grip, trying to slip him inside of you. He exhales a puff of air in amusement at your struggle.

“Do it again. Beg.”  

“Please, Joel.” 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, fuck me. Need you to fuck me hard.” A twisted wave of humiliation and need for approval courses through you. Begging for him, trying to tug him closer. You’re a mess for him. 

“There she is,” he smiles. It’s devious, but it makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb even harder. 

You line him up with your entrance, and he fills you in one motion. 

“Fuck,” you mouth as your head slides back against the truck. He fulfills his threats and splits you around his cock over and over. His hips snap into you with a force that sends shockwaves rippling across your body. Joel fucks you like a man possessed. Driving into you brutally, rocking the truck behind you. You try to stifle the cries pouring out of your throat, focusing on breathing, squeezing your eyes shut, and digging your nails into his shoulders. Pinning you with his body frees his hand, and he wastes no time using it to grope at every inch of you he can. 

He slows and rocks into you more tenderly, confusing you. He peers around the cab and waves at someone. Oh, shit. They can’t see you through the cab windows, right? Fuck. 

“Hey, put me down,” you hiss. 

“It’s just Tommy,” he replies. How is that better? 

Then you hear him calling to Joel.

“Hey, you see my sunglasses on the dash?”

Joel looks through into the driver’s window as if you didn’t even exist. 

“Yeah, you want ‘em?” Joel calls back to Tommy. 

“Yeah, you comin' back down?” 

“Yep, be there in a minute if you want me to bring them.” He calls back to Tommy. Still rolling against you, just grinding at a mind-numbingly slow speed. 

“You’re sick,” you whisper at Joel while you grind back into him, and Tommy shouts a thank you in the distance. Joel thrusts up into you more harshly. Your breath catches as his eyes lock onto yours with his full attention. 

“Felt to me like you enjoyed the risk.” His voice sounds like a taunt, but he’s not wrong. Joel talking to Tommy like you weren’t wrapped around his cock sent a rush through your veins. You decide not to admit that out loud. 

“This is Tommy’s truck?” you ask between gasps. 

“Yep.” 

You had some snarky comment to make, but you give up as he resumes his pace, and your thoughts fade away. Joel’s filthy stream of consciousness starts up again between low grunts and groans. His voice and the noises he makes bounce around in your skull. He makes you feel weightless. 

Each time his hips meet the cradle of your pelvis, you nearly burst, complimenting his movements with an enthusiastic rhythm. You arch your spine, angling just a little deeper, chanting out breathy prayers of fuck, fuck, fuck, and yes, yes, yes, when he slips a hand down to draw circles around your clit. 

“That’s it. Let me feel it,” he demands as you writhe. 

You give in, and it drives him crazy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows pinch, your mouth hangs open, and your body involuntarily shudders against him. He feels the way you start to relax, but your body jerks and clings tighter to him a few more times. He can’t slow down. It fuels his unbridled urge to come inside you as deep as he can. 

“That’s my baby,” he husks. My baby? You feel butterflies as you try to catch your breath while he ramps up his force. 

“Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full.” 

“Yes,” you reply, not sure he’s even listening with the intensity of his look as he barrels towards his release. When he stills, and you feel it, you can’t stifle the sounds in your throat. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, and his hips lurch into you as if he could fuck his come any deeper. He smothers you as he comes down. With his chest crushing you into the truck, you can feel when his breathing starts to slow. You rake your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and breathing him in. Your pussy might be sore for a day, but your ego is full, and you feel sated. 

Joel pulls out of you with a barely audible pained noise and asks if you can stand before releasing you fully from his grip. 

“I still have two legs,” you joke. But you look like you might topple over if he lets go. He hugs you into him for a tender kiss; it’s quick, but you drown in it. He props you up and presses another kiss to your sweaty temple. 

Then it’s happening again. He pulls his shorts back up, opens the truck, and grabs Tommy’s sunglasses. You grab your towel to wrap around your naked lower half. The truck door slams, and you turn. He’s already walking away. 

“Drive safe,” he calls over his shoulder while you pick up your bikini bottoms from the dirt. 

An empty feeling starts to shroud your satisfied glow as the sound of his footsteps fades away. He did call you “my baby,” though. He doesn’t say that to just anyone, right? 

[winterarmyy]

Deleted Scene

An alternate ending of Thin Walls, Thin Lines.

Note: Basically the smut content no one asked for our fuckboy!bucky in 《 Thin Walls, Thin Lines 》. So read it first for context! (if you haven't already)

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.7k++

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, lil bit of angst, cunnilingus, finger fucking, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, squirting, cum eating, needy bucky, an absolute filth and i'm sorry for bucky's behaviour in this one, he is just a horny mf on a daily basis also I just want to warn you about the sinful things he might say in this.

P/S: I don't know what to say. I love the fluff ending from the original version, but this... this ending. Even if i feel like it's a messy writing. but pheww. You can just tell why I refused to choose and ended up doing both.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

Of course not. But will he lie just to tease her? Yes. He would. "Maybe. Only if you let me." He shrugged.

And that made her blooming feature fell into a gloom. As if she was having a chaotic crisis within the pretty little troubled head of hers. Y/N didn't want whatever he was suggesting. She wanted more than a brief fling; more than a casual situationship.   

Because she loved him; truly. It wasn't just a passing passion, or an accidental chemistry.

Seeing the frown on her face and the panic spiralling in her eyes, Bucky chuckled as he knew she was taking his joke way too seriously, "Okay, how about I let you on with a little secret?" He suggested.

It perked her interest that Y/N simply nodded to his offer. Bucky smiled as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of her ears whispering a shocking confession.

She wasn't even high from any medication that Dr. Cho had prescribe to her but she couldn't believe what she heard. Her widen eyes questioned his smug smile hovering over her. Until she sneakily pulled the pillow next to her and threw it to his face.

Y/N kicked the blankets and changed into a sitting position, "Urghh you're such a dick, Bucky! I can't believe that I let you make fun of me!" She said with a biting tone.

"But, I'm not though?" Which only triggered her to smack him more with the pillow she was holding. Soon, the silent room were filled with the sound of her angry groans and Bucky's hearty laughter that cascade into a muffled chuckles.

The moment Y/N let her guard down, Bucky quickly stole the soft weapon from her and reclarified his confession, "I'm serious. I've been in love with you for awhile now." It's not she was blind; she saw no lies in his eyes and there was nothing but truth in the gentle of his voice.

She squinted her eyes into a glare and folded her arms across her chest, "Well, you have a rather funny way of showing it."

Bucky only smile to her snarky remarks, his hand finding hers to pull her closer, "I think I made it clear with the endless flirting that you have been blatantly rejecting, doll." He placed her perfectly on his lap, rubbing his big hands on her small back.

Y/N scoffed, "The only thing that was clear from that was how badly you wanted to get in my pants." Despite her objection, she let him pamper her body with his touch.

Bucky grinned, "And I do. But, only because I love you."

When she caught his gaze, she knew there was something magical about it; she have read so many books and poetry describing the look of his steel blues. A look that she can only dream of and not experience it; and if she was to make it come true, then this would be it.

Bucky moved slightly forward to nudge the tip of his nose on her own, hands intertwining with her shaky ones, silently asking for a permission to kiss her.

If she wasn't too focus on his presence on her skin, she would've noticed how the blood rushing to her cheeks were making her blushed in red. It felt good, it felt right.

Y/N gave her answer by leaning her forehead on his and he didn't waste any time to capture her lips, pressing an innocent kiss against it as his flesh hand gripped on hers while his metal hand find her cheek.

Soon enough the surrounding air heated and Bucky managed to slipped his tongue into her parted lips, his tongue wrapped around hers as her free hand reached back to gather his hair in her grasp. As they were blinded in sight by their closed eyes, they let sensory of their body ravel in each other's touch.

Out of instinct, her hand pulled from his back, then resting it on the prickly surface of his jaw before slightly pushing him away. Bucky took the cue and broke the kiss, "Babydoll." His hot breath blew against her cheek as he lean his lips on it.

Y/N realized what she had done; she let him kiss her, touch her but what does this mean? "I..I.." She hesitated.

"You're okay, y/n. Tell me to stop. Tell me to fuck off. It's okay, you can tell me anything." Bucky coaxed softly as he held her closer.

"I want this. I want you, Bucky. But... how can I trust you?" She really do. But, some part of her still reluctant to his history, "You've been sleeping around with those girls for months. Almost every night." Bucky cringed to his own behaviour. "How do I know it? That I'm not becoming one of them? That I'm not just some fucktoy you're gonna use and toss after?" She didn't care if she sound desperate. She needed him to be true because she know this won't work if he isn't willing to.

Bucky breath caught in the middle, as he knew that even the sweetest words won't satisfy her worry, so he only told the truth, "You have been the only one I wanted, y/n. And I know words aren't enough convice you. So let me show you, baby. Let me make love to you until you see how much I truly love you."

And he indeed fulfill his promise on that.

Bucky took his time undressing her until she was bare as the day she was born. He took longer time kissing her skin, loving each part of her perfect body and a much more lingering kisses around the bruises from today's mission.

Now that her pretty little cunt was right in front of him, exposed and bare, he wondered if this was all just a dream. Because it felt like it. No matter though; he'd devour her just the same whether she was just a creation of his dreams or his actual reality.

Bucky pressed several kisses on her clit, leaving the wet kissing noises filling the quiet room. He brought his tongue out slowly and started to lick her up; just to have a taste, "So pretty." he purred in between licking her fluids, teasing her. "So perfect." His fingers went to spread her lips apart and she made a strangled noise when she felt his long wet tongue, flattening through her folds, "Fuck." she cursed.

And after the first taste of her, Bucky realized how greedy he was getting especially when delved right back into her. "Bucky..." she whimpered his name as his warm lips wrapped around her clit, lewdly sucking on as if it was a tasty strawberry flavored sweet, just to release her moments after. He chuckled and slurred against her wetness, "Love the way you moan by name, sweetheart. Need to hear more."

His hands had moved from her waist to her hips in effort to pull her closer. If Y/N had anything to speak up in response then it was too late to say out loud because her head was swiftly wiped clean the moment his lips press into her clit again.

Bucky's grip on her thighs were almost harsh, just to keep her legs spread wide open for him to suckle on her clit, flicking his tongue over it deliciously. Looking down, she can only see the dark mess hair bobbing between her legs as he eats out her needy little cunt.

Y/N's mind was cloudy with ecstacy and pleasure crawling through her with each flick of his warm tongue between her folds. When it felt too good, she couldn't help but to catch his soft hair, holding on for her dear life as he devoured her cunt; noisy and messy.

"So fucking good, doll." He grunted into her weeping pussy, low and sensual as he pushed her legs further, allowing himself more access to her sweetness. "You taste so good."

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky was also enjoying every moment of this. Each time he moaned and groaned into her pussy, was the also time he thrusted his own needy cock against the mattress. The tip of was leaking with so much precum that it had left a wet stain behind.

With him getting that desperate, it felt like he was about to bust his nuts at any given time. But he wanted to wait; at least until Y/N gets her first high of the night. When his slick tongue deliciously fucking her pussy, exploring inside her, litters of curses of his name escaped from her lips as she moaned.

His wet tongue explored her insides as they clenched with lust and she choked out of air, not sure of how much longer she could take it because there was no way to deny it, she was about to cum, "Fuck,, Bucky. I'm cumming,,"

Bucky hummed into her when he pulled his tongue out, switching to rubbing on her clit, up and down, all the while was chasing his own orgasm, frantically humping on the bed like a rabid dog in heat.

Y/N gasped when he alternate between to sucking her clit and licking her up. Her back arched, pushing her cunt further into his hungry mouth in hopes to reach her release, "Please, please, don't stop.. need it, Bucky. Oh fuckkk"

Both of his hands; flesh and metal, slide up to grab her hips, helping her to grind on his tongue until her wetness came leaking out into his mouth, right on his tongue. Bucky came right along with her, grunting needily as the pink tip of his cock spurted out ribbons of his cream on in her mattress, marking his territory.

Bucky continued running his tongue up and down her wet slit throughout her orgasm, lapping away at her release that leaked out then gulping it down his throat as he watched her sighs with content.

When he pressed a soft kiss against her puffy, oversenstive clit, she thought it was end of it. But she couldn't be more wrong. The moment Y/N felt his metal finger trailed along her inner thighs, she knew that he wasn't satisfied with just eating her out.

She yelped when Bucky swiftly pulled her down, until her ass slides through the mess he made earlier, "What...?" Y/N herself didn't know what to ask but he knew exactly how to answer, "That's my cum, babydoll." He swiped some of the fluid from the sheets and smeared it on her throbbing cunt, making her instinctively moan.

Bucky smirked, "Eating your pretty pussy made me cum so hard, doll." With hunger in his gaze, he watched how his mess of a cum made her cunt glisten even more, "And because of that you deserve a reward, don't you think?" She whined as she nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, you do. You deserve to get your tight hole fucked by my metal fingers, don't you?" He continued to draw tight circles on her clit while his middle finger glides through her slit until he found her entrance, and pushed it in.

Y/N's head jerked up to the sudden intrusion. It was cold and reached much deeper than any of her fingers before. When Bucky twisted and curled the metal within her walls she cried out of pleasure. It was such new sensation and so fucking good.

A sudden entrance of another finger making her squeal from how sensitive her insides were to his metal fingers. And it made Bucky so full with pride to see her bending her back, her hips quivering, her walls tighten; all for him, "You can take it, sweetheart."

There was no such thing a pause when Bucky finger-fucked her hard; with his flesh hand pawing at her breast. He had his eyes locked on to the way her eyes roll back, panting breaths through those soft lips of hers, while his fingers drilled her tight pussy over and over and over, "That's it, that's fucking it baby. Such a good girl for me." He praised.

Endless moan were filling the room, along with the squelching sound of her wet cunt getting pounded mercilessly. Y/N lifted her hips higher; the feelings of Bucky's fingers inside her was different than her own. The stimulation and pleasure coming from his ways were distinct; like how the tip of his finger hits her unexplored g-spots or how his thumb pressed and twisted on her clit.

Bucky managed to pull the most sinful and desperate noises from her, "I-I’m going to cum,," she whimpered, hands balling into fists on the bed sheets as her hips followed his thrusts. "Yeah? Already, doll?" He taunted as he rolled her clit between his thumb and index finger.

Y/N nodded eagerly in between her moaning mess, before she let out high-pitched, satisfied whimper of his name as endless of fluid squirted out of her overstimulated pussy. "Oh fuck babydoll." He groaned as watched awe at her gushing cunt. "Did you just squirt? Hmm fuckkkkk, you should've done that when I have my mouth on you, baby. Shit."

Bucky scoot back to leaned his face right in between her legs. He darted his tongue out before he licked and suck the remaining fluid leaking out of her, making her squirm and whimper. And the slurping sound coming from him was such a sinful thing to hear, "Taste so good too. Gotta do that again next time, sweetheart. I wanna drink it all." he proposed.

"But now I need to be inside you." Bucky's declaration were cut short as his mouth captured hers in a heated kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue as she kissed him back passionately, her body burning from all the pent-up frustration she had been pushing back for months. Bucky broke the kiss after a few mind-numbing minutes, before his hungry lips roamed around her neck, hands trailing over every part of her exposed skin as her heart rate spikes

"Need you, babydoll." Bucky groaned as he pumped his hard cock with his hand, spreading his dribbling pre-cum around his thick length. She whined as he gripped her legs, spreading them as wide as they'll go before rubbing the head of his cock against her slit.

He leaned again to kiss her one more time before sliding inside, slowly. "Oh god," Y/N moaned as she burned deliciously around him while he spreads her open.

Bucky's hands moved up find the crook in between her waist and hips, settling his veiny hands to the shape of her curves. His hips pounded into her, getting faster and harder with each thrust. As Y/N began to wrap her legs around his waist, he grabbed them and pulling he flused against his hips before he continued drilled his cock into her pussy.

The sensation was a combination of pain and pleasure and she feel as though she's in heaven. "Faster," she cried out.

"Look at you. You're so wet for me, doll. Feels so good around me--" Bucky's voice breaks into a groan as his hips meet hers, "--It's like your pussy was made for me. Gotta let me have you everyday now that you're mine, right sweetheart?"

"Mmmmhnn" she moaned; things took a turn when she clutched around him harder, it was abnormally tight as if it was trying to milk him right there and then. Bucky couldn't help but to groan in pleasure to the new sensation, "F-fuck" he cursed.

It took his less than a minute to figure out the reason why. Bucky smirked sinfully, "You like it when I talk dirty to you?" he slurred. Y/N's eyes were getting teary from all the pleasure she was feeling, from the stuffing feelings in her chest to the sensation of his hard cock thrusting in and out of her cunt.

"i- ahh I-i don't hhmmnn shit i don't know." she tried to deny him.

Bucky stopped his pace, pulled back slowly, "Really?" and slammed it back in hard, "Are you sure, princess?" He almost knocked her out of her breath.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that my pretty girl loves it when I claim her as mine while I'm fucking her tight little pussy. Does she?" Bucky's kept on slow and hard torturous thrust, it was certainly slow but oh it felt so good; especially when he was doting at Y/N like this.

Was she really a sinner? Because this felt way too good to be in hell.

"Can't speak? Come on, my sweetheart. Speak up, let me hear ya." He demanded. Bucking her hips, wanting for more, "Y-yes, Bucky. I love i-it"

Bucky groan as her walls clenched him so good. Fuck, how many times has he thought of this? Dreamt of this? Probably, countless.

"You know why I keep changing girls, doll?" He sneaks his hands between their bodies and started to rub her clit. Her body shivered to the sensation, shaking her head to the sides as answer. "Yeah,, I bet you have no idea why do you?" He taunted.

Bucky let out a satisfied moan before his thrusts started going back to it's original pace. All whilst his cock pumped into her, gradually growing more fervent, her soaking pussy welcoming him in easily. Her whines mixed with Bucky's as she grabbed on the sheets behind her.

"Because I've been moaning your name in their ears, y/n. Everytime I stroke on my cock in anything, I have you in my mind. And when I cum, I imagine your pussy milking me dry. Just like you're doing now. Fuckkk,, doll, just like that."

Bucky's eyes that was fixated on her fucked out face since awhile ago, traveled down to where they were connected. Looking at how her little pussy shallowed his dick so well make him hornier.

Y/N slightly bounced upwards, his blues eyes tended back to her breasts. He used extra strength to see how her small body shook uncontrollably every time his hips met with hers, and to see those beautiful tits bouncing around.

"Bet you have no clue how much I want fuck my baby in you, doll. Or imagining the way your wedding ring glides on the side of my cock when you stroke me in your hand."

Bucky angled her body again by throwing her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward. This new angle made her eyes roll back. "Oh fuckk-- ahhh bucky,," she managed to say between his thrusts. Her entire body shaking from the tension building in her body as Bucky fucks her hard and fast, "I love you, y/n. I love you so. damn. much. I want to live the rest of my life in this cunt." He punctuated his words with hitting her sweet spot each time.

Bucky briefly threw his head back to hold back his orgasm before his hazy gaze landed on her, "Fuck doll, you look so pretty with my cock in you baby, so pretty. And we're so wet now. Hear that? Yeah, that's the sound of your tight little cunt getting wrecked by my cock. You fit me so perfectly. We're perfect." His thoughts were spilling out just as much as his precum leaking inside her.

There were tears in her eyes now, not only her walls but her whole body were stretching under him. It burned and it felt so damn good.

"Need you to cum, baby" Bucky spoke lowly, "I can feel ya, come on doll. Cum for me." He growled while continuing to pound her pussy.

And that would be the final straw for her. "fuck, yes, yes!" her voice hitched as her thighs begin to tremble around him. "...cumming. fuck, bucky i'm cumming." loud and sensual moans falling from her lips without much of an effort. Screaming out his name in pure bliss as her orgasm snapped through her high.

"That's it baby. Squeeze me so good." Bucky coaxed ever-so-tenderly, as her cum leaked around his cock and her pussy continued to milk him; begging and needing to feel his cum inside her.

"Hmm. I'm cumming, doll. Fuck,, oh fucking hell,, you're so good. Making me wanna cum, sweetheart. Where do you want it? Tell me. Where do you want my cum?" Bucky nearly whimpered as he felt his heavy balls were about to combust.

"Inside. Cum inside me," she moaned breathlessly.

Bucky almost growled to her response, "Good. fucking. girl. That's the only choice, baby. I'm gonna cum in you eitherway. Fuck fuck fuck,, I'm cumming shit take it, babydoll take it yeaahhh"

Leaning into her neck in a loud long moan, she felt Bucky's cock ached as he spilled himself inside her. His huge amount cream kept spurting endlessly, so much that it leaked out of her hole. Bucky whined as he continue to roll his hips, unable to stop humping into her stretched out, cum-filled cunt.

As he come down from the high, Bucky tried to pull out but only to be stopped by her circling her legs around him. He chuckled at her needy behaviour; as he found it quite adorable, "Want me to stay, baby?" he whispered softly and got a drunken nod as answer.

Bucky carefully flipped their position without leaving the tightness of her pussy, lying her limping body on his own. "Hmmmm" she hummed sleepily as she snuggled into his chest, eyes heavy with satisfaction.

"Yeah? Need my cock to fill you up for you to sleep well, hmm babydoll?" He cooed as he grind her hips downward, thrusting his cock into her slow and gentle. Y/N whined and mumbled, "Yes, please."

Bucky smiled tenderly, "Okay sweetheart. I'll keep you stuffed as long as you need me to. Now, I need you to go to sleep, okay?" He said, getting simple "okay" from the lady in his arms. Bucky placed a kiss on her head, as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as both of them got more and more drowsy as time goes by.

And at the end of this night, it was safe to say that this had been the best and longest sleep they both had since forever.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Leave some thoughts behind? The sinful the better 🙈

[keehomania]

nevertheless (알고있지만) – jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

attachment was a curious thing. it began subtly, weaving its tendrils through the fabric of your life without notice, like the first soft blush of dawn on a still, sleepy horizon. at first, it seemed innocuous, a delicate thread that merely tugged gently at the edges of your existence, a whisper of a presence that was easily overlooked.

yet, in its essence, attachment was a powerful force, beautiful and treacherous. it painted the world in vivid hues, each moment tinged with a significance that it otherwise wouldn't have possessed. the simplest actions—a smile, a touch, a shared silence—became imbued with profound meaning. your heart swelled, enraptured by the beauty of connection, and your soul reveled in the comfort of knowing and being known.

as the days passed, those gentle threads of attachment intertwined, forming an intricate tapestry. each shared experience, each memory, added a new thread, strengthening the bond and deepening the sense of unity. it was a masterpiece of human emotion, a testament to the power of connection that filled your heart with warmth and light. the world felt richer, more vibrant, as if seen through a lens that sharpened every detail and amplified every sensation. but attachment, for all its beauty, carried a darker undertone. like a vine creeping up the side of a grand old mansion, it began to strangle, its grip tightening imperceptibly. what was once a source of joy and comfort transformed into a source of anxiety and fear. the delicate balance between freedom and dependence tipped, and your heart, once light and free, grew heavy with the weight of expectation and longing.

In this duality lay the true peril of attachment. It was a slow, insidious poison, sweet in its initial taste but deadly as it coursed through your veins. The same connection that brought life and color could, in an instant, become a noose, choking the very essence of the self. Your mind became consumed with thoughts of the other, every moment apart a silent torment, every slight perceived as a dagger to the heart.

you loved attachment. you loved love. the depth of your emotions was a wellspring of inspiration, each feeling a stroke of color, a line in a sketch, a form in a block of clay. you embraced your emotions, delving into their depths because they breathed life into your art. sculpting and painting were your lifelines, your way of interpreting the world and expressing the inexpressible. you found beauty in every raw edge, every shade of shadow and light, every curve and angle that made up the diverse tapestry of art. art was your sanctuary, a realm where diversity reigned supreme. each piece, whether a painting or a sculpture, told a unique story, resonated with a distinct voice. you loved the freedom it granted, the way it allowed you to channel your deepest feelings into something tangible, something that could be seen and touched. the fluidity of art mirrored the fluidity of your emotions, capturing the fleeting, the ephemeral, and the eternal in one breathtaking sweep.

what you didn't love, was attending your boyfriend's opening art show to show your support, only to find yourself standing in front of what he deemed his masterpiece. the centerpiece of the entire exhibit was a sculpture of you, rendered in painstaking detail, nude, in a scandalous position. the marble gleamed under the gallery lights, every curve and line of your body exposed for the world to see. jackson saw it as a pinnacle of his artistic achievement, a celebration of your form and your intimacy. he looked at it with pride, his eyes shining with the fervor of creation. but to you, it was a betrayal, a public humiliation. every whisper, every gaze, felt like a thousand needles piercing your skin, stripping away your dignity layer by layer. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing inward as the weight of judgment and exposure crushed your spirit.

you couldn't breathe. the air was thick, suffocating, filled with the murmurs of the onlookers and the indifferent hum of the gallery. your chest tightened, panic rising as your eyes darted around for an escape. you felt the sting of tears, hot and unforgiving, blurring your vision. without thinking, you turned and ran, the murmurs growing louder, more accusing, as you fled the gallery. you ran until your legs burned, until your breath came in ragged gasps, until the noise and the lights of the gallery were far behind you. you stumbled onto a set of stairs, collapsing onto them, your strength spent. the world around you faded into a blur, and you buried your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body.

the cold stone of the steps pressed against your skin, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. you cried for the trust that had been broken, for the exposure you hadn't asked for, for the art that had turned against you. you had loved attachment, had loved love, had embraced every emotion because it allowed you to create. but in that moment, it felt like those very emotions were tearing you apart, leaving you raw and vulnerable, exposed to the harsh judgment of the world.

your tears flowed freely, each one a testament to the pain and the betrayal you felt. the love you had cherished, the attachment you had valued, seemed like cruel mockeries, twisting the knife deeper into your heart. you had poured your soul into your art, into your relationship, only to have it thrown back at you in the most brutal of ways. and so you cried, the steps becoming your sanctuary, the darkness of the night offering a cold, indifferent comfort as you wept for the love and the attachment that had led you to this moment of utter despair.

jackson trailed behind you, the sound of his footsteps echoing against the cold night air. when he found you on the steps, crumpled and broken, he paused, his silhouette stark against the dim streetlights. for a moment, he simply watched, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you crying, your body wracked with sobs. the indifference in his gaze was chilling, a sharp contrast to the tenderness you had once believed existed between you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “causing a scene like that in the middle of my show?” you looked up, your face streaked with tears, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “you humiliated me,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “you’ve shit all over my reputation.”

his eyes flashed with anger and disdain. “you have no idea what art is,” he spat. “you’re clueless. that sculpture was a masterpiece, a celebration of you, and you just made a fool of yourself and me.” his words struck you like physical blows, each one harder than the last. you struggled to find your voice, to make him understand the depth of your hurt. “it wasn’t art,” you whispered. “it was a betrayal. you exposed me to everyone, without my consent, without even thinking about how i would feel.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. “you’re overreacting. you always do. that piece was about beauty, about vulnerability. you’re just too blind to see it.”

with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone on the steps, your tears flowing freely once more. the echo of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving a void where his presence had been. you felt as if the ground had opened up beneath you, swallowing you in a chasm of despair and betrayal. you knew what art was. art was your lifeblood, your passion, your way of making sense of the world. you understood its power, its ability to evoke emotions and provoke thought. nevertheless, in that moment, you realized you had forgotten what love was. love wasn’t supposed to feel like that. it wasn’t supposed to leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable, abandoned and broken.

the steps were cold and unforgiving beneath you, a cruel reminder of the harsh reality you found yourself in. the night pressed in around you, its silence a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your heart. you had loved him, had believed in the connection you shared, but now it felt like a cruel joke, a painful illusion. you sat there, your face buried in your hands, trying to piece together the fragments of your shattered heart. the art you had loved, the emotions you had cherished, all seemed tainted now, twisted by the betrayal you had experienced. you had thought you understood love, had believed in its beauty and its power, but now it felt like a distant memory, something you couldn’t quite grasp.

and so you cried, the tears falling silently as you tried to make sense of the pain, the betrayal, the loss. you cried for the love that had turned into a weapon, for the art that had been twisted into something cruel. you cried for the trust that had been broken, and for the heart that had been shattered. in the quiet of the night, you felt the weight of your emotions, their depth and their intensity. you had loved deeply, had felt every emotion with a fervor that fueled your art. but in that moment, on those cold steps, you felt the sharp sting of love’s betrayal, and the emptiness it left behind.

the night wore on, the stars glittering coldly above, indifferent to your pain. and as you sat there, alone and broken, you realized that while you understood art, you had forgotten what love truly was. it wasn’t the grand gestures or the passionate declarations. it was the quiet moments of understanding, the gentle touch of reassurance, the unspoken bond that held two hearts together. you had forgotten that love was supposed to heal, not hurt. it was supposed to uplift, not tear down. and in that moment, you vowed to remember, to never let anyone make you forget again. the tears continued to fall, but beneath them, a resolve began to form, a determination to reclaim the love and the art that were rightfully yours, to find the strength to rise from the ashes of your heartbreak and create anew.

the club was a throbbing pulse of music and light, a sanctuary for those seeking to drown their sorrows or celebrate fleeting moments of joy. you found yourself there, the need to escape the pain and humiliation driving you to its neon embrace. the air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and anticipation, each beat of the music resonating through your body like a heartbeat. you made your way to the bar, ordering a drink to numb the ache in your chest. the liquid was a fiery solace, burning down your throat and spreading warmth through your veins. one drink turned into another, and another, as you tried to drink the night away, to forget the betrayal, the hurt, the sculpture that had stripped you bare in more ways than one.

but as the air grew tighter and the room spun slightly with the haze of alcohol, you felt the need for a moment of clarity, of fresh air. you stepped outside, the cool night air a contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the club. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a box of cigarettes, your fingers fumbling as you searched for your lighter. It was gone, lost in the chaos of the night.

“fuck,” you muttered quietly, frustration boiling over. as you looked up, you saw a man standing nearby, a smile playing on his lips as he flicked his lighter open. the small flame danced in the darkness, casting a warm glow on his face. “need a light?” he asked, his voice smooth and warm, like a balm to your frayed nerves.

you nodded, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “yeah, thanks.” he stepped closer, the flame catching the tip of your cigarette. you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and bringing a strange sense of calm. as you exhaled, he cracked a joke, something about fate bringing a cigarette and a lighter together. you laughed, the sound surprising you with its lightness.

he lit his own cigarette, taking a drag as he turned slightly, giving you a glimpse of the tattoo on the back of his neck—a butterfly, delicate and intricate, its wings poised as if ready to take flight. “that’s a beautiful tattoo,” you said, your eyes tracing the lines of the butterfly. he glanced back at you, a faint smile touching his lips. “thanks. i like butterflies. got a few of them at home.”

“they’re beautiful,” you admitted, the honesty in your voice surprising even you. “especially monarch butterflies. there’s something about them that’s just mesmerizing.” he didn’t respond immediately, instead reaching into his pocket and pulling out a marker. taking your hand gently, he began to draw, the marker’s tip gliding over your skin. when he finished, he held up your wrist, showing you the butterfly he had drawn there—a monarch, its wings spread wide in a silent declaration of beauty and freedom.

“now you have a butterfly of your own,” he said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of warmth. “to remind you of their beauty.”

you looked at the butterfly on your wrist, a smile forming on your lips. it was a small gesture, but it held a world of meaning, a moment of connection that pierced through the haze of pain and alcohol. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the city’s distant hum. he nodded, a silent smile on his face, before turning and walking back into the club, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the butterfly on your wrist. the night seemed a little less dark, the weight of your emotions a little lighter.

as you stood there, the cigarette burning slowly between your fingers, you felt a glimmer of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, beauty could still be found. the butterfly was a symbol, a promise that you could find your way back to the love and the art that had always been your sanctuary. you took another drag of your cigarette, the smoke swirling around you like a protective veil. the club’s music thumped in the background, a distant reminder of the chaos you had escaped. but in this moment, with the butterfly on your wrist and the memory of a stranger’s kindness, you felt a small but significant shift within you.

the next day, you found solace in the familiar embrace of your studio. the room was filled with the quiet hum of creativity, the soft scraping of tools against clay, the muted whispers of students deep in their work. your hands moved deftly over the surface of your sculpture, the tactile sensation of the material grounding you, offering a brief respite from the emotional turmoil that still lingered from the night before. your fingers traced the curves and lines, each motion a silent meditation, an attempt to channel the chaos inside you into something tangible, something beautiful. the sculpture began to take shape, a reflection of your innermost thoughts and feelings, an expression of the vulnerability and strength that intertwined within you.

as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your work, the studio door creaked open, and your friend poked her head in. jihyo was a vibrant presence, her energy infectious, and her smile always managing to brighten the darkest of days. “hey, you,” she called, waving you over. “let's step out for a smoke. you look like you need a break.”

you hesitated, your hands still covered in clay, but her insistence was hard to resist. with a sigh, you wiped your hands and followed her out, the studio door closing softly behind you. the fresh air was a welcome change, and the courtyard was quiet, a peaceful oasis amidst the bustling campus. jihyo handed you a cigarette, and you lit it, the familiar act bringing a semblance of calm. she leaned against the wall, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. “alright, spill it. what’s bugging you?”

you took a drag of your cigarette, the smoke curling around you. “jackson and i broke up,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. her eyes widened in surprise. “what? when? what happened?”

you recounted the events of the previous night, the betrayal and humiliation still raw in your mind. as you spoke, her expression shifted from shock to anger.

“he did what?” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “that sick son of a bitch, how could he think that was okay?” you shrugged, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “he called it art. i called it betrayal. we saw things differently.”

jihyo shook her head, her anger palpable. “you deserve so much better than that. he had no right to expose you like that.” as she spoke, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the man from the previous night. he was walking by, his posture relaxed, but his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the recognition in his gaze mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment you had experienced.

he seemed as shocked as you were, but he recovered quickly, a smile tugging at his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, the memory of his kindness a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. “hey, jihyo,” you said, nudging her gently and nodding in his direction. “do you know who that is?”

she followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of him. “oh, that’s jeon jungkook. he works in the building department. total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” her words were blunt, her tone dismissive, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity. jungkook glanced back at you once more before continuing on his way, the smile still lingering on his face. you watched him go, the memory of his smile and the butterfly he had drawn on your wrist vivid in your mind.

you nodded absently, still watching him from a distance. “yeah, sure. i’ll keep that in mind.” as the two of you finished your cigarettes and headed back to the studio, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was different from the way jihyo described him. there was a gentleness in his eyes, a quiet kindness that intrigued you. you didn’t know what the future held, but for now, the memory of his smile and the butterfly on your wrist gave you a small glimmer of hope, a reminder that beauty and kindness could still be found, even in the most unexpected places.

back in the studio, you lost yourself once more in the clay, the rhythm of your movements a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. each touch, each stroke of your tools, was an act of creation, a way to channel the tumult of emotions into something tangible. the world outside the studio faded away, leaving only the quiet hum of creativity and the comforting solidity of your sculpture.

the creak of the door barely registered in your focused state. it wasn’t until you sensed a presence directly in front of you that you looked up, your hands pausing mid-motion. there he was, jeon jungkook, the man from the night before, sitting casually on a stool, his eyes bright with curiosity and amusement. he smiled, a warm, easy smile that seemed to light up the room. “you work with such intensity,” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. “it’s really impressive.”

“thanks,” you replied, your mind flashing back to jihyo’s warning about him. you tried to keep your expression neutral, though his unexpected presence had thrown you off balance.

his gaze drifted to your wrist, where the butterfly he had drawn still lingered. “the butterfly is still there,” he noted with a hint of satisfaction. you looked down at the delicate sketch, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, seems like she likes it there.”

“she does,” he agreed, a playful glint in his eye. “but i think she’d like a drink more. would you wanna grab one with me?” for a moment, you hesitated, jihyo’s words echoing in your mind: “total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” but there was something about him, something that intrigued you. his easy confidence, his unexpected kindness from the night before—curiosity got the better of you.

“sure,” you said, nodding. “i'd like that.” his smile widened, and he stood, offering his hand to help you up. his touch was warm, steadying you as you wiped the clay from your hands. the studio felt different now, charged with a new energy, as you left with him, the door closing softly behind you.

as you and him left walked, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between you. the city lights cast a warm glow on the streets, and the night air was crisp, a perfect backdrop for the unexpected connection forming between you. “so, why have i never seen you around before?” jungkook asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as you walked side by side.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m usually in the sculpting department. it’s a bit tucked away, not many people venture there unless they have a reason to.” his eyes lit up with interest. “sculpting, huh? that’s pretty cool. i’ve always wanted to try it, but my parents insisted on something more practical. hence, the building department.”

you glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “you should chase your own freedom,” you said earnestly. “do what makes you happy.” he chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “all i chase is freedom. it’s a problem, really. but it’s why i resonate with butterflies so much. they’re the ultimate symbol of freedom and transformation.” you walked in comfortable silence for a moment, contemplating his words. jungkook’s outlook on life was refreshing, a stark contrast to the rigid expectations that had been imposed on you by others.

as you approached the bar, the lively atmosphere enveloped you. jungkook led you to a section of the room dedicated to dart throwing. the area was bustling with energy, the sound of laughter and friendly competition filling the air. “ever played darts before?” he asked, picking up a dart and spinning it expertly between his fingers. you shook your head, feeling a bit out of your element. “no, i’ve never tried it.”

he grinned, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “well, it’s time you learned.” he turned to the dartboard, aiming with practiced ease and throwing the dart. It hit the center perfectly, a bullseye. “show-off,” you teased, impressed by his skill. he laughed, handing you a dart. “come on, give it a shot. i’ll help you.”

you took the dart, feeling a bit unsure. jungkook moved behind you, his presence close and comforting. he placed one arm gently around your waist, guiding your hand with the other. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “just relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “focus on the target.”

with his guidance, you raised your arm and threw the dart. it flew straight, hitting the middle of the board. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. there was a shared moment of triumph and connection, your heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze. “see? you’ve got it,” he said softly, a proud smile lighting up his face.

you couldn’t help but smile back, the feeling of accomplishment mingling with a growing sense of attraction. for the rest of the evening, you played a few more rounds, each throw bringing you closer, both physically and emotionally. the drinks flowed, the conversation deepened, and laughter punctuated the night. as the night drew to a close, he insisted on walking you home. the streets were quieter now, the city settling into a peaceful rhythm. when you reached your doorstep, he turned to face you, his expression tender.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere. “thank you for joining me.”

“me too,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i’m glad i came.” he stepped closer, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. the simple gesture was filled with warmth and affection, sending a rush of emotions through you.

“good night,” he whispered, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. you watched him walk off into the night, your heart fluttering in your chest. the evening had been unexpected, a whirlwind of emotions and connections that left you feeling both exhilarated and introspective. as you turned to enter your home, you couldn’t help but smile, the memory of his kiss still warm on your skin.

the morning sun filtered through the trees as you walked to your campus with jihyo. the campus was beginning to stir with activity, the hustle of students preparing for the day ahead. the air was filled with the familiar sounds of footsteps, chatter, and the distant hum of city life. jihyo made sure to get a headstart, indulging in her morning vape, the sweet aroma curling around you as you walked side by side. she passed the vape to you, and you took a slow drag, savoring the fleeting tranquility before the day's demands took over. you exhaled, the vapor mingling with the crisp morning air.

as you continued your walk, you recounted the events of the previous night, your voice animated as you described jungkook’s unexpected kindness and the enjoyable evening you had shared. she listened intently, though her expression remained skeptical, her brows furrowing in concern. “and then,” you finished, handing the vape back to her, “he walked me home and gave me a kiss on the forehead. it was really sweet.”

she took a long drag, her eyes narrowing slightly. “it sounds like you had a nice time, but—” she exhaled a cloud of vapor, “—you’re playing with fire, you know that?” you raised an eyebrow, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “come on, ji. you’re being way too judgmental. he's not like that, he's different.”

she gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. “i’m just saying, be careful. you don’t know him that well yet.”

you were about to respond when you both froze mid-step. your gaze followed jihyo’s, and you saw him up ahead on the sidewalk. your heart skipped a beat, but this time, he wasn’t alone. he was walking with another girl, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. they seemed at ease with each other, sharing an intimate, comfortable closeness. jihyo glanced at you, her expression a mixture of sympathy and concern. “well,” she said softly, “i guess i wasn’t wrong.”

you stood there, feeling the weight of her words. the sight of jungkook with someone else was a jarring contrast to the warmth you had felt the previous night. it was as if the bubble of the evening’s enchantment had burst, leaving you to confront a reality that you had momentarily ignored.

the girl beside jungkook looked at him with a smile, and he responded with a tender gaze. it was a simple, yet intimate exchange that spoke volumes. the contrast between last night’s connection and this morning’s reality was stark, and you felt a pang of disappointment. jihyo’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, her voice comforting. “i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to rub it in. i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. “i know. it’s just, i thought there was something real there. maybe i was wrong.” jihyo sighed, taking another drag from her vape. “you weren’t wrong to feel what you felt, just be cautious. sometimes people aren’t as straightforward as they seem.”

you watched as jungkook and the girl walked further down the street, their figures eventually disappearing from view. the sight had left you feeling unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. the confidence you had felt the night before now seemed fragile, overshadowed by the uncertainty of this new revelation.

as you and jihyo resumed your walk, the campus loomed ahead, its familiar buildings a reminder of the routine and responsibilities awaiting you. the conversation shifted to other topics, but the weight of the morning’s encounter lingered, a reminder that even fleeting connections could carry unexpected complexities. you couldn’t help but reflect on his words about freedom and butterflies, wondering how they fit into this new, unsettling reality. the morning had started with promise but had given way to a reality that was less clear-cut, leaving you to navigate the delicate balance between hope and caution.

the studio was a sanctuary of focused energy and creative chaos. you found solace in the rhythm of your hands working the clay, shaping it with deliberate precision. each stroke was a meditative practice, allowing you to channel your thoughts and emotions into the art before you. jihyo, her boyfriend, and his sister had settled nearby. minho was absorbed in his own project, while jihyo and minyoung chatted softly, their voices a comforting background hum. the three of them had a natural camaraderie that brought a sense of ease to the studio. minyoung’s laughter rang out occasionally, a bright and cheerful sound that contrasted with the solemnity of your own concentration.

as you sculpted, your thoughts drifted back to jungkook. the image of him walking with another girl played over in your mind, like a record stuck on repeat. the warmth of last night seemed distant now, replaced by the chill of reality. you tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the form taking shape in your hands. minyoung’s voice broke through your reverie. “hey, we’re planning to head over to ji’s place tonight for a little get-together. we’re gonna have some drinks and hang out with a few friends from campus. you should come.”

you looked up, momentarily distracted from your work. “that sounds fun,” you said, though your voice betrayed a hint of reluctance. the idea of socializing was appealing, but the thought of seeing jungkook again—especially in a group setting—left you feeling unsettled. jihyo noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be good for you. you’ve had a rough couple of days. a change of scenery might help you feel better.”

uou nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, i guess you’re right. i’ll come.” minyoung’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “great! it’ll be nice to hang out and unwind. we’re all looking forward to it.”

as the conversation shifted back to other topics, you tried to immerse yourself in the rhythm of sculpting once more. the tactile sensation of the clay beneath your fingers was grounding, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions. despite your efforts, your mind kept returning to Jungkook. the casual intimacy you had witnessed, the way he had interacted with the girl—every detail seemed to replay itself in your thoughts. jihyo and minho were absorbed in their conversation with minyoung, their voices a blend of excitement and lightheartedness. Occasionally, jihyo would glance over at you, her expression a mix of concern and encouragement. her presence was a reminder of the friendship and support you had, even when things felt uncertain.

the minutes ticked by as you worked, the sculpting process a meditative balm for your frayed nerves. each detail you added to your piece was a small victory, a way to reclaim a sense of control amidst the emotional turbulence. when the end of the class approached, you felt a mixture of relief and anticipation. the prospect of the evening’s gathering offered a potential escape from the weight of your thoughts, a chance to immerse yourself in the company of friends and let the worries of the past few days drift away.

jihyo and minho packed up their things, and you followed suit, feeling a sense of camaraderie as you prepared to leave the studio. minyoung chatted animatedly about the evening’s plans, her enthusiasm infectious despite the lingering doubts in your mind. as you walked out of the studio and headed toward the campus exit, jihyo fell into step beside you. her presence was comforting, a reminder of the support you had. “remember,” she said softly, “tonight’s about relaxing and having a good time. don’t let your worries overshadow it.”

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you stepped into the vibrant energy of the campus. the evening ahead held the promise of distraction and connection, a chance to shift your focus and enjoy the company of friends. as you walked alongside jihyo and minho, you tried to embrace the hope that tonight might bring a welcome reprieve from the storm of emotions you had been navigating. the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the campus as you made your way to her place. with each step, you hoped for a sense of relief and a chance to momentarily escape the complexities of your thoughts.

the evening's promise of relief and distraction dissolved like smoke as you stepped into jihyo’s house. the warmth and laughter that greeted you were abruptly overshadowed by the sight of jungkook among the group of people already there. the room was buzzing with energy, the clinking of bottles and the murmur of conversation filling the air.

jihyo’s cheerful greeting faltered as her gaze locked onto jungkook. she snapped her neck to minho, a look of surprise and irritation crossing her face. “i didn’t know you’d invited jungkook too,” she said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. minho raised his hands defensively, a sheepish grin on his face. “i had no idea there was tension. i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

you stood there, frozen in the doorway, feeling a chill seep into the warmth of the room. jungkook’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a silent acknowledgment of the situation. his smile faltered slightly when he noticed your lack of reciprocation, the tension between you palpable.

jihyo guided you into the room, her demeanor shifting to one of concern. whe led you to a circle on the floor where the others were already settling in. minho produced bottles of soju, his enthusiasm for the evening evident as he set them down and suggested starting a drinking game. the game began with a lively energy. the group’s laughter and teasing filled the space, but you found it difficult to engage. as the rounds progressed, the questions and challenges became increasingly daring. mina, one of the other girls, challenged jihyo to either take her top off or drink. just as she was about to comply, minho interjected, suggesting she down an entire bottle instead. the room erupted in laughter, a sound that felt distant and hollow to you.

jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching for a reaction. you met his gaze briefly, your own expression unyielding. the game continued around you, the atmosphere growing more frenetic and less comfortable.

jihyo’s eyes sparkled with a new idea as she turned to him, her voice carrying a playful tone. “jungkook, your turn. kiss the prettiest girl in the room or take a drink.” the challenge seemed to electrify the room. his eyes flickered to you once more, his expression a mix of resolve and anticipation. he reached for the bottle of soju, his fingers brushing its neck, before setting it down with a decisive motion. without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

the room erupted in cheers, the sound washing over you in a wave of unwanted attention. jungkook pulled away, his smile radiant and expectant, but you remained unmoved. your eyes were cool, indifferent. the kiss, meant to be playful or provocative, felt hollow and forced. the jubilation of the room contrasted sharply with your own feelings. you took a swig from the soju bottle, the liquid burning as it went down. the alcohol did little to numb the sting of the evening’s events. with a heavy sigh, you excused yourself from the circle and walked toward the door.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a sharp, refreshing clarity. the sky above was dotted with stars, a serene contrast to the chaos you had just left behind. you fumbled with your cigarette box, fingers trembling slightly as you retrieved a cigarette. with a practiced motion, you lit it and inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around you in a calming haze. the solitude of the outdoor space provided a temporary refuge from the din inside. uou leaned against the wall, the cigarette between your fingers a small anchor in the storm of your thoughts. the kiss from jungkook had left you unsettled, and the evening’s veneer of camaraderie had revealed a deeper undercurrent of discomfort and disconnection.

as you stood there, lost in thought, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party inside seemed faint and distant. the cool breeze carried away the heat of the moment, leaving you with a sense of clarity and resolve. you had come seeking relief, but instead had confronted a reality that was as complex and unpredictable as ever. the cigarette burned down slowly, the embers glowing softly in the night. you finished it with a deep, contemplative drag, savoring the quiet before re-entering the fray of the evening. with a final exhale, you flicked the spent cigarette away and prepared to face whatever the rest of the night might hold.

the night air had a crisp bite to it, a contrast to the clamor of the party inside. you were about to step back into the house, hoping to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, when a shadow fell across your path. you looked up, only to find jungkook standing there, his presence as sudden as it was unexpected.

he leaned down slightly, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. his smile was disarming, and his voice carried a playful tone as he spoke. “why’ve you been so cold to me?” he asked, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

you scoffed, the earlier tension bubbling back to the surface. “why don’t you ask your friend from this morning?” you shot back, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

his laughter was soft and warm, cutting through the chill of the night. “soel? oh, she’s just a friend. nothing more,” he said, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. his words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned and silent. the embarrassment of your earlier jealousy washed over you like a tide, coloring your cheeks with a faint blush. he seemed to sense your discomfort and offered a reassuring smile. “don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice gentle. “jealousy looks good on you, by the way.”

your heart skipped a beat at his comment, a flush of heat spreading across your face. the candidness of his words, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made it difficult to maintain your composure. flustered, you looked away, struggling to regain your equilibrium. before you could fully gather yourself, his presence at your side felt oddly comforting. he matched your pace as you turned back toward the house, trailing behind you with a casual, easy stride. the sound of the party inside grew louder as you approached the door, the energy of the gathering spilling out into the hallway.

the night’s revelry had left you intoxicated and unsteady on your feet. the laughter and music from downstairs seemed to blend into a distant hum as you made your way up to jihyo’s room. the stairwell wobbled slightly under your steps, each ascent feeling like an effort as you navigated the dizzying effects of the evening’s drinks. when you finally reached her room, you stumbled through the door and collapsed onto her bed. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a gentle light across the space. the bed felt like a comforting refuge as you sank into its embrace, your head spinning pleasantly from the alcohol.

as you rested, the door creaked open, and you heard the shuffling of footsteps approaching. your hazy vision slowly made out jungkook’s figure as he stumbled into the room, equally inebriated but with a purposeful gait. he looked around, his eyes finally landing on you with a mix of concern and amusement.

“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice a bit slurred. the question hung in the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and the faint scent of perfume. his smile was lopsided, his gaze soft as he settled down on the bed beside you. “i came to check on you,” he said, his voice carrying a soothing warmth that contrasted with the cool night air.

your heart fluttered at his words, a sensation that felt both thrilling and disorienting. as he sat next to you, his presence was comforting and reassuring, an anchor amidst the swirl of emotions you were feeling. he looked at you with a gentle smile, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance.

“you’re just as pretty drunk as you are sober,” he said, his tone affectionate and teasing. the compliment made you blush deeper, and you instinctively raised your hands to cover your face. “my makeup must be a mess,” you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. jungkook shook his head with a soft chuckle, his movements deliberate and careful. “makeup is just art, and you can't mess up art,” he said, his voice tender as he leaned in closer. his face was inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. his fingers gently traced the lines of your face, his touch light as he began to wipe away the smudges of makeup from under your eyes.

the intimacy of the moment seemed to stretch and contract, a space filled with a growing anticipation. jungkook’s gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that matched the softness of his touch. the distance between you closed, the world outside the room fading into insignificance.

when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was hot and heavy, a potent mix of desire and need. it was a kiss that spoke volumes, expressing the unspoken feelings and the intoxicated passion that had been simmering beneath the surface. his lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your heart race, the kiss deepening with every passing second.

as the kiss deepened, the rest of the world seemed to dissolve into a blur. the music from downstairs, the laughter, the people—it all became a distant echo compared to the closeness of his embrace. the kiss was a shared moment of escape, a brief interlude where nothing else mattered but the connection between you and him. “if we continue,” he murmured, his hot breath grazing your lips. “i won't be able to stop myself.”

his eyes searched yours for consent, and even though you were tipsy, you knew exactly what you were doing. with a nod, you let yourself indulge in it, the anticipation building with every step. the room was dimly lit, with the occasional flicker from the candle casting shadows on the walls. the smell of the candle, something sweet and exotic, filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of his cologne. jungkook closed the door behind you, and in that instant, the outside world was forgotten.

once on the bed, your bodies became a tangled mess of limbs and passion. his hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body with a hunger that was almost desperate. you felt his tattoo flutter against your neck as he kissed along your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. you pulled at his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. the fabric gave way, revealing his toned abs and the tattoo that was inked into the flesh at the base of his neck—a delicate monarch, its wings unfurling in an intricate dance.

his mouth found yours again, and the kiss grew more urgent. your hands fumbled with the buttons of his pants, and he groaned when you finally slipped your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. he reciprocated, tugging at the hem of your dress, eager to explore what lay beneath. as the fabric was pushed aside, his eyes widened at the sight of your lacy underwear. “fuck,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire. “so fucking dirty.”

his words were a heady mix of praise and demand, sending a rush of heat to your core. your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. the coolness of the room hit your skin, making your nipples pebble with excitement. his eyes roamed over you, and you felt exposed, but in the best way possible. his hands followed the path of his gaze, cupping your tits and gently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. a soft moan escaped your lips, and he took it as an invitation to lean in and suck one into his mouth. the sensation was electric, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

his hands moved down to the waistband of your underwear, and with a quick motion, he slid them down your legs. you felt a moment of vulnerability, but it was quickly overshadowed by the desire coursing through your veins. jungkook kissed along your stomach, making his way down to the apex of your thighs. his tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, and you gripped the bed sheets tightly. “oh, god,” you breathed, your voice a desperate whisper.

his eyes never left yours as he positioned himself over you, his own pants discarded on the floor. he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on. even in the dim light, you could see the intensity in his gaze, the raw need that mirrored your own. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice gruff with lust.

you nodded, and it was all he yearned for as he entered you. the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that had you gasping. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move. his thrusts were deep and slow at first, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered filthy words in your ear, urging you to let go.

you did, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your hands dug into his back, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he moved. your bodies fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had been searching for their match. the bed rocked gently under you, the rhythmic sound mixing with your ragged breaths and the slap of skin on skin.

you lost track of time as you both chased the high of climax. his dirty talk grew more intense, and your responses grew louder. it was a dance of dominance and submission, each of you pushing the other closer to the edge. when you finally reached it, your body convulsed around him, and you called out his name like a prayer. jungkook followed shortly after, his dick twitching as if it was his first time.

the morning light filtered through the curtains with a muted glow, casting a soft, hazy light across jihyo’s room. you stirred from sleep, the warmth of the bed a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. as you slowly regained consciousness, your eyes fell upon the scene beside you. jungkook laid there, his presence so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. the shocking realization hit you as you took in the sight of him naked beside you.

panic surged through you as fragmented memories of the night before flickered in your mind. the kiss, the heat, the intensity—all of it came crashing back. the vividness of those moments left you feeling both disoriented and mortified. with trembling hands, you scrambled to gather your clothes, hastily dressing as you tried to make sense of the chaos.

in a frantic rush, you stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. the house was still quiet, save for the soft murmurs of the early morning. wgen you reached the bottom, you were met with jihyo’s intense gaze. her expression was a mixture of concern and exasperation, a look that made you feel like you were about to face her wrath. “i could strangle you right now,” she said, her voice sharp and laced with an underlying tension. the threat in her words was softened only by the lack of her morning smoke, a ritual she hadn’t yet indulged in. you stood there, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach. the scolding began, a tirade of reprimands that blended into a blur of guilt and embarrassment.

the weight of your actions pressed heavily upon you, and though you tried to focus on her words, your mind was elsewhere. the guilt of the night before, the uncertainty of what you had done, and the unanticipated consequences all swirled together in a disorienting mix. during class, her scolding continued, her frustration evident. you sat there, trying to stay composed as the minutes ticked by. the lecture on art and technique seemed distant, a backdrop to the internal turmoil you were experiencing. it was only when a familiar face appeared that you were jolted from your reverie.

the girl who had been with jungkook the previous morning walked in and took a seat with you and jihyo. she greeted you with a polite smile, and as she settled in, she mentioned needing help with her sculpture. you gave her your notes, watching her as she began to work with the clay, your mind still reeling from the events of the night. as she sculpted, your gaze inadvertently fell to her wrist. there, clearly visible, was a drawing of a monarch butterfly.

the sight of it sent a jolt through you, your stomach twisting in a sickening churn. the connection hit you like a physical blow, and the room seemed to spin around you. you were frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the drawing that mirrored the one jungkook had drawn on you. unable to stay any longer, you excused yourself, the rush of emotions and physical discomfort becoming too overwhelming to ignore. you hurried to the bathroom, the need to escape the situation pressing heavily on you. once inside, you leaned over the sink and, overwhelmed by a combination of betrayal, hangover, and emotional turmoil, you began to vomit. each heave felt like it was ripping something deeper inside of you, the physical pain amplifying the emotional distress.

as you clung to the sink, the cool porcelain against your forehead offering a small comfort, you were consumed by a storm of conflicting feelings. the events of the night had left their mark, and now, the stark reality of the situation was unfolding with cruel clarity. as you stepped out of the bathroom, the heaviness in your chest felt almost tangible. the earlier discomfort was still fresh, and you were hoping for a moment of peace. instead, the moment you emerged, you heard a voice calling for you. you turned, only to see jungkook walking towards you with a grin that seemed far too bright given the situation.

“running out without a goodbye kiss? that’s pure evil,” he said, his tone light and teasing. but as you met his gaze, you saw no trace of irony or humor—just a genuine, unfaltering smile that made your stomach churn once again.

you forced yourself to look him in the eyes, trying to steady your emotions. “i just talked to soel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “she has a butterfly tattoo on her wrist. the same one you drew on me.”

jungkook’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, he seemed unfazed by your revelation. “oh, that? i draw that on all my friends,” he said nonchalantly. “why does it bug you?”

the casualness of his response left you reeling. you stared at him, feeling a cold wave of betrayal wash over you. “is that what i am to you? just a friend?” his reaction was almost mechanical. “yeah,” he said, shrugging slightly. “is that an issue for you?”

the simple, matter-of-fact way he spoke was like a punch to the gut. you were stunned, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. the realization that you had misinterpreted his intentions, that your emotions had been tangled in a misunderstanding, left you feeling hollow. without another word, you turned away, your heart racing and your mind clouded with a storm of betrayal and shock. you walked briskly, your steps echoing with a sense of finality as you left jungkook behind. the turmoil inside you was a jumbled mess, each step away from him only amplifying the confusion and hurt.

the campus was bustling with the usual midday energy as you joined jihyo, minho, and minyoung for lunch. you sat down at the table with them, the usual chatter and laughter around you feeling like a distant echo. as they talked animatedly about their day, you remained silent, the weight of the morning’s events heavy on your shoulders.

minho finally broke through the silence, noticing the way you said nothing. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentle but concerned. the question was like a dam breaking. you tried to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they spilled over, each drop a mix of frustration, sadness, and disappointment. the raw emotion that had been building up inside you was finally released, and you found yourself unable to stop the flood.

through your tears, you recounted the events of the night before—the drunken mistake, the disheartening conversation with jungkook, and the sting of betrayal. your voice trembled with each word, the hurt and confusion palpable as you shared your story.

as you spoke, you could see the shock and horror on their faces. minho’s eyes widened with disbelief, and minyoung’s expression turned to one of sympathy. but it was jihyo’s reaction that truly struck you. her face darkened with anger, and her eyes blazed with a fierce resolve. “might actually fucking kill him,” she said with a steely determination, her words delivered in a low, dangerous tone. the promise was almost soothing in its intensity, a sign of her fierce loyalty and anger on your behalf.

you shook your head, feeling a fresh wave of guilt wash over you. “no, don’t,” you managed to say between sobs. “it’s my fault. i was too trusting. i should have seen it coming.”

her expression softened as she reached out to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “don’t blame yourself,” she said firmly. “you didn’t do anything wrong. he’s the one who failed you. focus on yourself and your work. you deserve better than this.” but despite her reassurances, you found it difficult to shift your focus. jungkook’s smile, the way he had looked at you, the crushing realization of his indifference—all of it was still vividly etched in your mind. the pain of the betrayal felt like a persistent ache, a constant reminder of your misplaced trust and the emotional turmoil it had caused.

as lunch continued, you struggled to engage in the conversation. your mind kept drifting back to him, replaying the moments and words that had shattered your sense of stability. the comfort of jihyo’s words was overshadowed by the persistent sting of your own emotions. the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, the echoes of your thoughts louder than any external noise. the distraction of the campus environment did little to ease your turmoil, and the weight of your feelings continued to anchor you in a state of unresolved pain.

in the solitude of the studio, the air was heavy with the smell of clay and the faint traces of your exhaustion. the sculpture in front of you was nearly complete, a painstakingly crafted representation of a woman’s head—her expression a haunting blend of serenity and despair. the piece symbolized a submission to love that consumed and overwhelmed. her eyes were hollowed out, the sockets deep and dark, conveying an intense and tragic devotion. the gouged-out eyes were not merely a detail; they were the very essence of her surrender, the ultimate sacrifice for the one she loved.

your hands trembled slightly as you made the final adjustments, the weight of your own emotions interwoven with the piece. you took a step back to admire your work, your heart heavy with the sense of completion mingled with the burden of what it represented. the sculpture was a mirror to your own turbulent feelings, capturing the essence of devotion and its potential for destruction.

the quiet of the studio was suddenly disrupted by a voice behind you. “where are her eyes?” jungkook asked, his tone inquisitive yet casual. you stiffened, momentarily frozen by the intrusion. your gaze remained fixed on the sculpture, trying to compose yourself. “she gouged her eyes out,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of the sculpture’s meaning. “simply because her lover wanted her to. she would do anything for him.”

jungkook’s footsteps approached, and you felt him come closer, his presence a palpable force in the room. he stood behind you, his gaze fixed on the sculpture as he admired your work. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he said, his voice sincere but carrying an undercurrent of something else.

you kept your back to him, your attention focused on the sculpture, trying to ignore the effect his presence had on you. but then, you felt him press closer, his body nearly touching your back. he leaned in, his breath warm and tickling your ear as he gently pushed aside your hair. “are you mad at me?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. you struggled to maintain your composure, the tension between you palpable. “i have no reason to be,” you replied, though your voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

you felt him smirk against your skin, the touch of his lips sending shivers down your spine. his kisses, light and teasing, trailed down your neck, each touch intensifying your internal conflict. “we shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, your voice wavering. his breath was hot against your ear as he replied, “that’s what makes it so fun.”

your resistance wavered as he continued to kiss your neck, the pleasure mingling with your sense of guilt and confusion. You knew it was wrong, yet the allure of the moment was powerful. finally, you turned around to face him, the decision made despite your inner turmoil. you allowed him to kiss you, the contact both electrifying and disorienting.

the kiss was intense, a clash of emotions and desires that left you breathless. jungkook’s touch was both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the complications that had arisen between you. as you surrendered to the kiss, the studio’s quiet solitude seemed to collapse around you, leaving only the swirling mixture of passion and regret. in the midst of the embrace, the sculpture remained a silent witness, its hollow eyes a stark reminder of the emotional sacrifice and the consuming nature of love. the art piece and the reality of your feelings intertwined, creating a poignant reflection of the complicated interplay between desire and devotion.

his hands found their way to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer to him. you felt his arousal pressing against you, and despite your inner reservations, your body responded instinctively. the attraction was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to have a will of its own. his kiss grew deeper, more demanding, as his hands began to explore your body. your own hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscles tighten beneath your touch. the fabric of your clothes felt like a barrier to the connection you both craved, and without a word, jungkook began to remove them. the anticipation grew as each layer fell away, revealing your skin to the cool studio air.

you found yourself bent over the sculpting table, jungkook’s hands tracing your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he whispered dirty words into your ear, his voice thick with desire, and you felt your knees wobble. the reality of the situation washed over you—the illicitness of it, the raw need you felt for each other—and you realized that this was what you had been craving, despite the guilt.

his fingers dipped lower, finding the wetness between your legs, and you gasped into his mouth. jungkook’s touch grew more insistent, and the sculpture beneath your palms seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your heart. you were no longer the artist—you were the art, being shaped and molded by his desires.

his hand slid away, and you heard the sound of his belt buckle. your heart raced as he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his erection teasing your entrance. “are you sure?” you managed to ask, the tremor in your voice betraying your nerves. “do you want me?” he replied, his voice a challenge. your body answered for you, arching back, begging for him to fill you. and with one powerful thrust, he did.

the sensation was overwhelming—his bare skin against yours, the heat of his body surrounding you. his grip tightened on your hips as he began to move, the rhythm punctuated by your moans and the slap of skin against skin. the intensity grew with each stroke, the pleasure a wildfire that consumed every rational thought. you could feel his breath on your neck, his voice a gruff whisper of praise and desire. your eyes closed, and the sculpture, the studio, the world outside—it all faded away, leaving only the two of you and the primal dance of your bodies.

his thrusts grew harder, deeper, as he claimed you from behind. the sculpture was forgotten, a symbol of a love that was now a tangible reality in the form of this explosive union. you reached back, your hand finding the base of his cock, and you felt his body tense with pleasure. the air was thick with passion, the scent of sex and clay a heady mix that intoxicated you both. jungkook’s movements grew erratic, and you knew he was close. with one final, powerful push, he reached his climax, his warmth filling you as he groaned your name.

you collapsed onto the table, spent and trembling, as jungkook leaned over you, his breath ragged. for a moment, there was only silence, the two of you trying to find your bearings in the aftermath of the storm.

but the quiet was broken by the sudden sound of the studio door opening, and you both froze. your eyes widened with panic, and jungkook’s grip on you tightened. “we can’t get caught,” you whispered, your heart racing with fear and excitement. he smirked, his eyes dark with mischief. “we won’t,” he assured you, his voice low and seductive. “not until we’re finished, anyway.” the tension grew as the footsteps grew louder, and jungkook began to move again, slower this time, his strokes long and deliberate. the game of hiding in plain sight was thrilling, a dangerous edge to the passion that had overtaken you both.

the newcomer to the studio called out a greeting, and his hand covered your mouth, muffling any sound you might make. you bit down on your lip, stifling a moan, as he continued to fuck you with an urgent need that seemed to defy the danger of being discovered. your heart hammered in your chest, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

his movements grew more deliberate, his hips grinding into yours with a silent rhythm that matched the beat of your racing pulse. you could feel the eyes of the sculpture on you, the hollow sockets seeming to judge you even as you writhed in pleasure beneath his touch. the footsteps grew closer, and his grip tightened. he leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispered, “be quiet, baby. come for me.” the words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you did as he asked, your orgasm building like a crescendo.

just as the person entered the room, you reached the peak, your body convulsing around jungkook’s cock. he groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your neck, and you clamped down on his hand to keep from crying out. the wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling and exposed. his strokes grew shallower, his cock still hard and pulsing inside you. the footsteps stopped just outside the partition that separated the main studio from your makeshift private corner. the tension was unbearable, a tight coil of excitement and fear that made every nerve ending in your body feel alive.

his eyes locked with yours, and you saw the challenge in them. you knew he was enjoying this as much as he enjoyed the sex itself—the risk, the danger, the thrill of the secret. your breathing was ragged, your body still quaking from the orgasm that had torn through you, and yet you remained silent, waiting. the person in the room spoke, their voice muffled by the wall of clay that separated you. jungkook’s thrusts grew more gentle now, almost tender, as he slowly pulled out of you. you felt the warmth of his seed inside you, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

you both waited, your breaths syncing as the footsteps grew fainter, moving away from your hiding spot. once the room was empty again, jungkook leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing yours with a softness that seemed at odds with the ferocity of your encounter. “see?” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “no one will ever know our little secret.”

you pushed him away gently, sitting up and adjusting your clothes. your mind was racing, a whirlwind of emotions—shame, exhilaration, fear of being found out. but there was also something else, a dark satisfaction that seemed to hum in the air.

the sculpture loomed before you, the woman’s expression now a reflection of your own complex feelings. jungkook pulled on his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. “we can’t do this again,” you said, the finality in your voice unmistakable. but as he zipped up his pants, the smug smile on his face told you that he didn’t believe you. and deep down, neither did you. the line had been crossed, and the taste of the forbidden was too sweet to ignore.

his eyes held a promise of more to come, and despite yourself, you felt your body respond. the next chapter of this illicit story was already being written, the plot thickening with every shared glance and stolen touch. and you knew that no matter how much you tried to resist, you would be drawn back into the tumultuous dance of desire and deceit that was your relationship with him.

as jungkook stepped out of the studio, his silhouette fading into the dim light of the hallway, you were left alone with the echo of his departure. you hastily pulled your clothes back on, your hands trembling uncontrollably. each movement was a struggle against the storm of emotions raging inside you.

the studio, once a sanctuary of creation, now felt like a cage closing in around you. the quiet was oppressive, amplifying the shattering of your composure. you fought to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they began to fall, each drop a release of the turmoil you had been trying to suppress. you sank to the floor, your body trembling with the force of your sobs. the statue stood before you, its eyeless gaze a haunting reflection of your own despair. the sculpture, a representation of sacrifice and devotion, seemed to mock you now. its hollow eyes, gouged out as a symbol of surrender, mirrored the emptiness and heartbreak you felt inside.

unable to bear the sight, you were overcome by a furious, anguished energy. the intensity of your emotions erupted uncontrollably. you launched yourself at the statue, your hands and feet flailing as you knocked it over. the crash of clay against the floor was loud, a jarring sound that matched the violence of your grief. you kicked at the broken pieces, the fragments scattering across the studio floor. the destruction was cathartic yet devastating, a physical manifestation of the chaos within you. as the statue lay shattered, the pieces symbolized the fragmented state of your heart. each kick was a release, each broken shard a representation of your pain.

exhausted and overwhelmed, you slid down against the wall, the tears still flowing freely. the destruction of the sculpture had not lessened the weight of your sorrow. instead, it left you staring at the remnants, the once-beautiful work now reduced to a broken mess. you continued to cry, your body wracked with sobs as you gazed at the ruined statue. the eyeless gaze of the sculpture, now in fragments, seemed to reach out to you in a final, tragic understanding. the intense emotion of the piece was mirrored in your own shattered state. the studio, with its scattered pieces and your anguished cries, was a poignant testament to the overwhelming pain and anger you felt.

the contrast between the beauty of the sculpture and the violence of its destruction spoke to the raw intensity of your emotions. the studio, once a space of artistic expression, had become a stage for your most profound heartache. as you wept, the remnants of the statue lay around you, a somber reminder of the intricate connection between art, love, and the devastating effects of betrayal. in the end, as your sobs quieted and you sat amidst the broken pieces, the sight of the ruined sculpture served as a haunting reflection of your own emotional wreckage. the tears continued to fall, mingling with the clay fragments, a final, tragic testament to the depth of your despair.

as you gathered your belongings, the weight of the night’s events clung heavily to your shoulders. the studio, once a place of solace and creativity, now felt like a space of ruin and disillusionment. your hands moved mechanically, shoving your scattered materials into your bag. each motion was devoid of purpose, driven by a numbing emptiness rather than intent.

the soft sounds of your packing were abruptly interrupted by distant noises—low grunts and muffled groans—emanating from the studio down the hall. the sounds were raw and unsettling, a contrast to the quiet destruction you had left behind. your curiosity and dread compelled you to investigate, despite the turmoil within you.

you approached the door to the neighboring studio, its glass panel offering a distorted view into the dimly lit room. peering through, your heart sank as you recognized the scene unfolding inside. jungkook was there, engaged with a girl you couldn’t identify. the sight of them, entwined in an intimate and brutal display, was a dagger to your already fragile heart.

the cold reality of the moment was a sharp contrast to the warmth you had briefly experienced with him. you were paralyzed, unable to tear your gaze away from the scene before you. each grunt and moan was a reminder of your own vulnerability and the painful contrast between the connection you had felt and the stark betrayal unfolding before you. the sight of him with another, the passion and disregard apparent in their movements, left you feeling hollow. you had no tears left to shed; the emotional reservoir had been drained dry by the night's turmoil. the image of their bodies, entwined and fervent, was seared into your mind—a brutal symbol of your own sense of abandonment and betrayal.

turning away from the glass, you felt an eerie emptiness consume you. the world seemed to blur as you walked down the hallway, your steps heavy and unsteady. your mind was a void, a blank slate where thoughts and emotions once swirled with intensity. the encounter had left you drained, each step echoing with the weight of your disillusionment.

the cold air of the hallway seemed to press against you, a stark reminder of the isolation you felt. as you made your way home, the world around you was a distant haze. the vibrant life of the campus and the remnants of your art—the shattered statue, the chaotic emotions—faded into the background, leaving only the crushing emptiness of your thoughts. each step felt like a journey through fog, the clarity of the night’s events slipping away with each movement. the betrayal, the emotional wreckage, and the raw intensity of the moments you had witnessed had left you numb. you walked forward, but within, you remained frozen—trapped in the silence of your own heartache.

the sun rose reluctantly on the campus the next day, its light casting a dull glow through the classroom windows. you stumbled into your class, exhausted and hollow-eyed from a night spent in sleepless turmoil. the world outside felt distant, its vibrancy lost to you as you trudged through the motions of daily life. your movements were mechanical as you took your place among the scattered students. the studio, once a sanctuary of creativity, now felt foreign and unwelcoming. the empty canvas in front of you was a glaring testament to your lack of inspiration. the urge to sculpt, to create, was absent, replaced by a void of emotional fatigue and despair.

jihyo tried her best to offer comfort. her words were gentle, her presence a constant reassurance in the face of your turmoil. despite her efforts, the pain within you remained insurmountable. her attempts to console you seemed to fall short of reaching the deep chasm of your heartache. the betrayal and the haunting images from the previous night left you adrift, unable to focus or find solace.

the professor’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, announcing a new student would be joining the class. you barely registered his words, your mind elsewhere, wandering through the fog of your sleepless night. it wasn’t until you heard the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of surprise among your peers that you looked up.

your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with the new student. it was jackson. the same jackson who had once been a part of your world, now standing before you with a familiar, if unwelcome, presence. the shock of seeing him in this context, amid your already tumultuous emotions, was almost too much to bear. he met your gaze with an expression that was a mixture of apprehension and resolve. the smile he once wore with ease now seemed strained, an acknowledgment of the shared past that had ended in such distressing terms. the air in the room felt charged, the atmosphere thick with an unspoken tension. his arrival was a jarring reminder of old wounds, reopened with his unexpected reappearance.

you forced yourself to focus, trying to ignore the way your heart raced and the way your mind spun with fragmented memories of him. the professor introduced jackson, guiding him to a seat, and the room’s atmosphere shifted. the familiar face was a painful reminder of a time when things had been different, when trust and affection had colored your world.

jihyo, noticing the way your gaze lingered on him, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. you offered her a weak smile, her concern evident in her eyes. yet, despite her support, the emotional storm inside you remained uncalm. you felt as though you were caught in the eye of a hurricane, where the calm was an illusion masking the chaos within.

as jackson settled into his new spot, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the unresolved issues from your past, created a sense of disquiet. you tried to refocus on your work, but the blank canvas before you was a stark reminder of the numbness that had consumed your creativity. the rest of the class droned on, his presence a silent but heavy weight in the room. every glance in his direction felt like a step back into a storm you had barely escaped. your hands remained idle, the sculpting tools untouched as you struggled to regain some semblance of normalcy.

the day dragged on, each minute a reminder of the fractured pieces of your recent past. as the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the class, you gathered your things with a sense of resignation. the encounter with him had been a jarring disruption, but it was also a harsh reminder that the echoes of past relationships often resurface when least expected. you walked out of the classroom, your mind still clouded with the weight of your emotions. the campus, with its usual bustle of activity, felt distant and surreal. the familiar paths and faces seemed altered, as though you were navigating through a dream that had turned unsettlingly real.

the day seemed to drag endlessly as you walked out of the classroom, feeling the heavy weight of jackson’s unexpected reappearance. the campus, once a place of refuge and creativity, now felt like a labyrinth of memories and unresolved emotions. you walked with a purpose, desperate to escape the lingering sense of disquiet that his presence had stirred within you.

as you moved through the crowded hallways, lost in your thoughts, a voice called out to you, breaking through the fog of your mind. you turned slowly, your heart skipping a beat as you saw hin standing a few steps away. his expression was earnest, eyes filled with a mix of regret and hope. for a moment, you felt paralyzed, caught between the urge to flee and the reluctant desire to hear him out.

jackson took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. the touch was light, almost pleading, and you could feel the warmth of his skin through your thin sleeve. his eyes were filled with an apologetic softness that seemed to convey a depth of remorse you hadn’t anticipated. “what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the memory of the sculpture and the pain it had caused still fresh in your mind.

his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours with a sincere gravity. “i wanted to focus solely on my work,” he said, his voice laced with an honesty that was both surprising and unsettling. “it’s been difficult since you left. i lost my muse.”

the words struck you with a sharp edge, stirring a storm of conflicting emotions within you. the image of the sculpture, the public humiliation, and the way he had dismissed your feelings—all of it came rushing back. you remembered the pain and betrayal that had clouded your heart.

“you don’t get to just come back and pretend like everything’s fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “you can’t erase what you did.”

his face fell, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “i know,” he said quietly. “and I’m sorry. i had the sculpture removed. i understand that nothing will ever be the same. i just wanted to let you know that, if nothing else, i’d like to be your friend.”

his words were both unexpected and profound, offering a semblance of closure that you hadn’t anticipated. the notion of friendship, after everything that had transpired, felt both distant and comforting. you stood there, absorbing the gravity of his apology and the genuine regret that seemed to hang in the air between you. for a moment, the chaos inside you quieted, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. his offer of friendship was an olive branch, a gesture that acknowledged the hurt while striving for something different. yet, the wound was still fresh, and the idea of moving past it was daunting.

“i need time,” you said finally, your voice steady but tinged with a quiet resolve. “i can’t just pick up where we left off.” he nodded, his expression a blend of understanding and sadness. “i know,” he replied softly. “take all the time you need. i just wanted you to know i’m here if you ever want to talk.” with a final, lingering look, he turned and began to walk away. each step seemed to echo with the weight of the past and the uncertain promise of the future. you watched him go, your mind awash with a storm of emotions—anger, relief, and a bittersweet sense of closure. as you stood there alone in the corridor, the bustling noise of the campus seemed distant, as if you were enveloped in a cocoon of introspection. the conversation with jackson had stirred up old wounds, but had also offered a glimmer of resolution.

lunch on campus was always a comforting routine. the sun was high, casting dappled shadows through the leafy canopy above. you, jihyo, and minho had claimed your usual spot at a worn wooden table, the comforting hum of student chatter surrounding you. jihyo animatedly recounted her latest project, while minho nodded, occasionally chiming in with his dry wit. you were halfway through a bite of your sandwich when you saw him—jackson. he passed by with his characteristic easy grace, a slight smile playing on his lips as his eyes met yours. respectfully, he sat on a separate bench a few feet away, not wanting to intrude.

jihyo's eyes narrowed, her conversation with minho faltering as she followed your gaze. “why is he here?” she muttered, her voice barely audible but dripping with disdain. you stood up, your decision made in an instant. as you approached him, his smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of concern.

“is everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, yet tinged with uncertainty. “come sit with us,” you replied, your tone gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” his hesitation was palpable.

you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. with a grateful nod, he followed you back to the table. minho raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but it was jihyo's reaction that was most striking. her eyes widened, and she sat back, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

“jackson, this is minho,” you introduced, and he gave a polite nod. “and this is jihyo.” jackson extended his hand to her, but she simply stared him down, her gaze icy. “she may have forgotten what you did, but i sure haven’t,” she said, her voice like steel.

he withdrew his hand slowly, nodding in acknowledgment. “i understand,” he replied softly. you placed a comforting hand on jihyo’s arm. “he came for a fresh start,” you explained, your voice calm and steady. “he even got the sculpture taken down.” jihyo’s skeptical glance lingered on him, but she didn’t press further. the tension in the air was almost tangible, but his presence gradually began to feel less intrusive.

he smiled at you, a look of genuine gratitude and perhaps a hint of hope in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling a sense of warmth and relief. the past might not be easily forgotten, but in that moment, it felt like a step towards something better, something new. as the conversation slowly resumed, you couldn’t help but feel that this lunch, under the sunlit canopy, marked the beginning of a significant change—a moment of reconciliation and new beginnings.

unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure stood in the background, having noticed your whole ordeal. jungkook, leaning casually against a nearby tree, had been chatting with his friends, their laughter mingling with the warm air. but his attention had been subtly drawn to you the moment jackson appeared. his dark eyes followed every movement, every gesture you made. the way you approached jackson with a calm demeanor, the soft reassurance in your voice, and the unyielding kindness in your eyes—it all piqued his curiosity. his friends were engrossed in a lively debate about the upcoming exhibition, but he found himself only half-listening, his mind occupied with the scene unfolding at your table.

he watched as you led jackson back, noticed the tension between him and jihyo, and observed the way you mediated with such grace. jungkook brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, trying to focus back on his friends' conversation. yet, the feeling tugging at his heartstrings was undeniable, a peculiar mix of curiosity and something he couldn’t quite identify.

the laughter of his friends brought him back to the present moment, and he forced a smile, joining in their conversation. but his eyes betrayed him, darting back to you occasionally. he noted the genuine smile you exchanged with jackson, a smile that seemed to light up your entire being. he couldn’t put his finger on it. was it admiration? perhaps a touch of jealousy? he shook his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts. after all, he had no reason to feel this way. you were just another girl, albeit a talented one, whose work he respected. yet, there was something in the way you handled the situation that stirred something deep within him.

back in the studio, the familiar scent of clay and the quiet hum of creativity enveloped you. the light filtering through the tall windows cast an ethereal glow on your workspace, illuminating the clay sculpture taking shape beneath your deft fingers. you shuddered, recalling the tumultuous scene you had caused, the emotional outburst that had led you to destroy your previous work of art.

determined to push back any thoughts of jungkook, you focused entirely on the clay before you. each movement was elegant, deliberate, as your hands moved with a grace born from years of practice. your mind, however, raced with a whirlwind of emotions—freedom, butterflies, liberty, independence. the sculpture was coming to life beneath your touch: an extended hand, its fingers gently curved, and a string of butterflies, delicate and intricate, laid one on top of the other. they seemed to be chasing the freedom they so desperately desired. yet, as you worked, their wings began to wither, the fragile clay starting to crumble under your touch. they had flown for so long, yearning for independence, before finally finding solace in the palm of a hand. it was a poignant realization—that the only thing they needed more than freedom was the touch of love.

you were so absorbed in your work that you barely noticed when jackson entered the studio. he said nothing, simply standing and watching you. his presence was quiet, respectful, and he observed as you caressed the butterflies, shaping each one with meticulous care. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he finally said, his voice soft, breaking the silence.

startled, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. you hadn’t realized he was there, so engrossed in your work. “jackson,” you breathed, your hands stilling. “i didn’t see you come in.”

he offered a gentle smile, stepping closer to the sculpture. “i didn’t want to disturb you. you looked so focused.” you glanced back at the sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies. “they’re chasing freedom,” you explained, your voice thoughtful. “but their wings are falling apart. they’ve been flying for so long, seeking independence, but they realize that what they need more than freedom is love.”

jackson studied the piece for a moment, nodding slowly. “you have a way of seeing the world, of expressing it through your art. i was wrong. you know art better than anyone.” his words were sincere, and they touched you deeply. you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, a tender gesture, it struck you—you knew art, its nuances, its depth. nevertheless, you didn't know love. that was a realm you had yet to truly understand.

the studio felt different now, not just a place of creation, but a space where emotions, complex and raw, intertwined with every sculpted form. and in that moment, with jackson's reassuring presence and the delicate clay butterflies, you realized there was more to learn, more to feel, beyond the confines of your art.

his eyes, warm and curious, met yours. “what has you so fascinated with butterflies?” he asked, his voice soft yet probing. you paused, your mind inevitably drifting back to jungkook. the memory of the monarch tattoo on the back of his neck was vivid, a symbol of his own desperate need to chase freedom. the thought made your blood run cold, a shiver running down your spine. you forced a smile, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away. “i admire them,” you said, your voice steady but distant. “they chase their own freedom, rather than love.”

his gaze softened, understanding flickering in his eyes. “everyone deserves love more than anything,” he replied gently. you said nothing, the words lingering in the air between you. the silence was filled with unspoken emotions, a depth of feeling that you couldn’t quite articulate. “especially you,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

the moment felt fragile, delicate like the butterflies you sculpted. before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open, and jihyo walked in, her presence breaking the intimate silence.

“hey, you two,” she called out, her tone light and cheerful. “the group's going out for drinks. you’re both welcome to join.” you hesitated, the weight of the day’s emotions still heavy on your shoulders. the idea of socializing felt overwhelming, but before you could decline, jackson spoke up.

“you deserve a break,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be fun.” with a sigh, you nodded, feeling a mix of reluctance and gratitude. his encouragement gave you the push you needed. the prospect of stepping out of the studio, even for a short while, seemed like a small reprieve.

as you gathered your things, the studio’s comforting hum faded into the background. you cast one last look at your sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies, and felt a renewed sense of purpose. perhaps, amidst the chaos and the quest for freedom, there was room for love too. walking out with jackson and jihyo, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting, a subtle change in the air. the evening stretched ahead of you, filled with possibilities, and for the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

the walk to the bar was filled with a mixture of anticipation and unease. the streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced with each step you took. jihyo walked ahead, her laughter echoing down the empty street, while jackson stayed close by your side. as you approached the entrance of the bar, a sudden chill washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you couldn't quite place the feeling, but it was a foreboding sense that something was about to happen. the moment you walked in, the dim lighting and the low hum of chatter enveloped you. But it was the pair of dark eyes that you locked with immediately that sent a jolt through your entire being.

it was him, it always seemed to be him. he was sitting at a table with a few friends, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. your body tensed involuntarily, and jackson, ever perceptive, noticed immediately. he placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “ease up,” he whispered in your ear, his voice calm and reassuring. “i’ve got your back.”

you finally broke the gaze, nodding at jackson, and made your way to a table as far from jungkook as possible. jackson's arm remained draped around you, a steadying presence in the storm of emotions brewing inside you. the two of you indulged in drinks, jackson leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “just so you know,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m a lightweight.” you laughed, the tension easing slightly. “i know,” you whispered back, your smile widening.

despite your attempts to ignore him, you could feel jungkook’s eyes on you the entire time. he downed his drink, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he watched you with jackson. you could almost feel the intensity of his thoughts, wondering who jackson was and why you were with him. minho’s voice broke through the haze of tension. “how about a round of darts?” he suggested, his tone light and carefree.

your mind immediately flashed back to playing darts with jungkook, the way he had stood behind you, guiding your hand, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered instructions. the memory was sharp and painful, and you shook your head. “no, thank you,” you replied politely, trying to keep your voice steady. jackson noticed the flicker of emotion in your eyes. “i’ll play for you,” he offered, a confident smile on his lips.

you nodded, grateful for his support. jackson stood up, heading over to the dartboard, and jungkook’s eyes narrowed. his fuse had blown, the thin veneer of calm shattering. “i’ll play against you,” he announced, his voice low and challenging.

the room went quiet, the tension palpable. your face went pale, and you glanced at jackson, who scoffed, clearly unfazed by his challenge. “fine,” he said coolly. “let’s play.”

the game began, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. each throw of the dart was accompanied by backhanded remarks, the words sharp and biting. “nice throw,” jungkook commented, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “didn’t know you had it in you.” jackson smirked, his eyes never leaving the dartboard. “you’d be surprised what i can do,” he replied smoothly. “unlike some people, i don’t need to show off.”

jungkook’s eyes flashed with anger. “careful,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “you might bite off more than you can chew.” jackson shrugged, his expression unfazed. “i think i’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. the game continued, each round more intense than the last. finally, with a final, precise throw, jackson won. he turned to you, a triumphant smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but hug him congratulatory. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the cold glare jungkook sent your way.

his gaze never left the two of you, his eyes dark and stormy. the tension in the air was almost suffocating, but in jackson’s arms, you felt a sense of safety and support. the night was far from over, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, grateful for the small victories amidst the chaos.

the tension inside the bar had become suffocating, a palpable force that seemed to press down on you. excusing yourself, you made your way to the door, needing a moment of solitude to clear your mind. as you stood up, jackson placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and reassuring. “hurry back,” he said softly, his eyes full of warmth. but you didn’t miss the way jungkook’s gaze hardened, his jaw clenching as he watched the small exchange.

you stepped outside, the cool night air a welcome relief. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a cigarette, the flick of the lighter breaking the stillness. as you took the first drag, the smoke curled around you, its familiar scent grounding you in the moment. your peace was short-lived, however. a voice broke through the quiet, low and unmistakable.

“is that your boyfriend?” you didn’t turn around. instead, you scoffed, exhaling a plume of smoke. “he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s tone was unreadable as he remarked, “you two seem close.” you took another drag, the cigarette glowing softly in the darkness. “we have history,” you replied. “we might even make up at some point.”

he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “don’t even think about it,” he said, his voice hardening. finally, you turned to face him, anger flaring in your chest. “what does it have to do with you?”

he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “the sight of you with another man makes me unreasonably angry,” he confessed, his voice low and intense. you were silent, your heart pounding as he stepped even closer. his presence was overwhelming, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension. without breaking eye contact, he reached out, taking the cigarette from your hand. he brought it to his lips, taking a slow puff, a small smile playing on his lips.

“mind your own business,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “we’re nothing but friends, according to you.” he took another puff before leaning in, his gaze never wavering. in a swift motion, he pulled you in for a kiss. for a moment, you kissed him back, lost in the familiar warmth and intensity. but reality snapped back, and you pushed him away, anger and confusion swirling inside you.

“i have no interest in playing your games anymore,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. he was taken aback, his expression one of surprise and hurt, but he stayed silent. you stepped back, your eyes meeting his one last time. “stick to your usual players,” you told him, your voice laced with finality.

turning on your heel, you walked back into the bar, leaving jungkook standing alone in the night. the door closed behind you, the noise and warmth of the bar enveloping you once more. jackson looked up as you returned, concern flickering in his eyes, but you gave him a reassuring smile, trying to push the encounter from your mind. as you rejoined the group, the weight of the moment lingered, a heavy reminder of the complicated web of emotions you were entangled in. the night carried on, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

the night blurred as you indulged in the haze of alcohol, the edges of your reality softening with each drink. jungkook had returned to the bar, his presence a sharp contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. he made a deliberate effort to ignore you and jackson, his attention directed toward the girl beside him. she was a stranger to him, her name unimportant as she pressed kisses to his neck and traced her fingers along his collarbone.

you hadn't planned on drinking as much as you did. but when you caught a glimpse of the butterfly on the girl's wrist, the sight stung like a needle, memories of jungkook's monarch tattoo flooding back, memories of your own cherished drawing flooding back. you stared at the bottom of your glass, realizing you had lost count of how many times it had been filled and emptied.

jihyo noticed first, her eyes filled with sympathy as she took the glass from your hand, ignoring your feeble protests. jackson, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation, leaned in close. “you've had too much,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. you wanted to argue, to push away his words, but the truth of them settled heavily on your shoulders. you felt too relaxed, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddled. jackson announced to the group that he was taking you home, his tone leaving no room for debate.

that was when jungkook's attention was drawn back to you. he watched, his eyes darkening with an emotion he couldn't name, as jackson helped you to your feet. jungkook's heart twisted painfully as he saw the way you clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. he wanted to intervene, to take you in his arms and carry you home himself, but the weight of his own pride held him back. all he could do was watch as jackson guided you out of the bar, the girl's touch losing its allure entirely.

the walk home was a stumbling journey, your words slurring together in a drunken rant about what an asshole jungkook was. jackson did his best to console you, his voice soothing even as a pang of jealousy tightened in his chest. the sight of you in pain, tears glistening in your eyes, was almost more than he could bear.

when you finally reached your front door, he paused, his hands gentle as he steadied you. “seeing you cry was one of the worst experiences of my life,” he confessed, his voice low and earnest. “any man who makes you cry doesn't deserve you.” you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through the fog of alcohol. he leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, the touch tender and bittersweet. “take care of yourself,” he whispered before turning to leave, the weight of his unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

you watched him go, your heart heavy with the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. the night was quiet now, the world around you still as you stood on your doorstep, the echo of jackson's words ringing in your ears. inside, the emptiness of your home seemed to mirror the void in your heart. you stumbled to your room, collapsing onto your bed, your mind replaying the events of the night. the taste of jungkook's kiss still lingered on your lips, a reminder of the complicated web of feelings you couldn't untangle. as sleep finally claimed you, your dreams were a tangled mess of memories and emotions, a reflection of the chaos that had become your reality.

the next day dawned with a dreary sky, the clouds heavy and swollen with impending rain. the rhythmic patter of raindrops against your window was a somber lullaby, pulling you from the clutches of a restless sleep. you groaned, the pounding in your head a relentless reminder of the previous night's excesses. forcing yourself out of bed, you prepared for the day, each movement deliberate and slow, as if the weight of your thoughts had seeped into your very bones.

the campus was a blur of umbrellas and hurried footsteps, the rain a persistent curtain that blurred the edges of your vision. you pulled your jacket tighter, shivering as the cold droplets kissed your skin. as you made your way to your morning class, a voice called out, stopping you in your tracks. “wait! could you come with me to the office?”

you turned to see one of the teachers, her expression unreadable. nervousness clawed at your insides, but you nodded, falling into step beside her. the walk to the office felt interminable, the walls closing in as a sense of dread pooled in your stomach. once inside, she gestured for you to sit, her demeanor serious. you complied, the anxiety almost unbearable as you waited for her to speak.

“the school’s program sends ten students from different departments every year to japan,” she began, her voice measured. “they spend a year at our sister art academy to strengthen their future as artists.” you nodded, your heart pounding. “i’m aware.”

she leaned forward, her eyes intense. “your sculptures have caught the eyes of many. you’re the top candidate. would you be interested?” the words hung in the air, your mind reeling. excitement surged through you, momentarily banishing the remnants of your hangover. “yes, absolutely!”

a smile ghosted across her lips. “you’ll need to create one more simple piece, something that speaks to you. can you do that?” you nodded, your thoughts already racing. “yes, i’m on it.”

“good. finish and present it as soon as possible.” you left the office, the rain still falling in relentless sheets. the excitement that had bubbled within you was quickly overshadowed by a gnawing hesitation. the reality of what the opportunity meant settled in, heavy and unyielding. you would be leaving everything behind—your friends, your school, and jungkook.

the thought of leaving him sent a fresh wave of uncertainty crashing over you. despite everything, despite the confusion and the pain, he was a part of your world. the idea of being an ocean away from him was almost too much to bear. you found yourself wandering aimlessly, the rain soaking through your clothes, each step feeling heavier than the last. your mind was a tempest, torn between the excitement of a new adventure and the fear of the unknown. the prospect of creating another sculpture loomed before you, a task that now felt monumental under the weight of your emotions.

the memory of your last piece resurfaced, the butterflies chasing freedom only to realize they needed love. the irony wasn’t lost on you. as you trudged through the rain, you realized that this new piece had to encapsulate everything you felt—the excitement, the fear, the longing, and the love. you headed back to the studio, the familiar scent of clay and plaster a strange comfort. as you began to work, the world outside faded away. your hands moved almost of their own accord, shaping and molding, each touch a cathartic release of the turmoil within. the rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, a melancholic soundtrack to your efforts.

hours passed in a blur, your focus unbroken despite the emotional storm raging inside you. the sculpture began to take shape, a raw, unfiltered expression of your heart. it was a simple piece, yet it spoke volumes—a delicate balance of freedom and love, the very essence of your struggle. by the time you stepped back to admire your work, exhaustion had settled into your bones, but there was a sense of accomplishment too. the piece was a part of you, a fragment of your soul made tangible.

as you stepped into the bustling café where you had arranged to meet jihyo and jackson, the atmosphere was charged with the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups. the light rain that had persisted throughout the day drummed gently against the café’s windows, adding a soothing rhythm to the scene. you were greeted by their warm smiles as you took your seat, the weight of the day’s revelation still heavy on your shoulders.

jackson leaned forward, his eyes alight with genuine enthusiasm. “you know, this opportunity is amazing. your talent has always been evident, and this chance in japan is well-deserved. i’m so proud of you.” jihyo nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same pride and encouragement. “you’ve worked so hard. this is the kind of break you need to truly shine. i know you’re feeling hesitant, but remember how much you’ve accomplished. this is your chance to take it to the next level.”

you smiled weakly, your excitement mingling with apprehension. “i definitely plan to take it. it’s just, everything’s happening so fast, and i’m not sure how to let go of everything I’m leaving behind.”

jackson reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours. “your art is the best thing about you. it’s not just a part of you; it’s a reflection of who you are. anyone who gets to experience it, anyone who gets to know you through your art, is incredibly fortunate. you’re meant for great things.”

“thank you,” you said softly, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with unease. it was then that you noticed a familiar figure through the café’s window. your heart skipped a beat as you saw jungkook sitting outside, his presence an unexpected jolt to your already fraught emotions. your breath caught in your throat as you observed him with another girl, who sat comfortably in his lap. they were sharing an intimate kiss, the tenderness of the moment starkly contrasting with the chaos swirling inside you.

the sight was a knife to your heart, the image of their closeness slicing through your resolve. you felt the world around you narrow, the laughter and chatter of the café fading into a distant hum. every beat of your heart seemed to echo with the impact of what you were witnessing. the gentle curve of jungkook’s smile, the way he held her—it was a brutal reminder of what you were losing. struggling to maintain composure, you excused yourself with a shaky voice. “i think i need some air. i’ll walk home.”

without waiting for their response, you stood abruptly, the café’s warmth feeling stifling against the cold storm brewing inside you. you pushed through the door, the crisp rain and cool air a sharp contrast to the suffocating emotions that had taken hold. each step felt heavy, the rain drumming against your skin a harsh, unrelenting reminder of the turmoil within.

as you walked, the image of jungkook and the girl replayed in your mind, a relentless echo that seemed to drown out all other thoughts. your heart felt like it was being pulled in a hundred directions at once—toward the excitement of your new opportunity and the painful reality of what you might be leaving behind. the rain continued to fall, mingling with the tears that slipped down your cheeks, unnoticed. the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts a chaotic whirl of feelings and memories. the prospect of the future was overshadowed by the haunting present, and the weight of your choices seemed almost unbearable. you trudged along, the journey home a silent testament to the internal struggle you faced. the thought of him and his effortless connection with someone else was a harsh reminder of the emotional complexity you had to navigate, and the path ahead felt uncertain and fraught with both hope and heartache.

the rain fell in heavy, unrelenting sheets as you walked home, each step a painful reminder of the emotional weight you carried. the sky was a somber gray, the clouds a reflection of the storm raging inside you. your body felt frail, your legs weak, as if the very essence of your being was being drained away. the weight of what you had seen, the raw pain of feeling worthless, clung to you with an almost tangible heaviness. jungkook had meant the world to you, yet now it seemed that even that precious world was slipping through your fingers, leaving nothing but a hollow ache.

you trudged along the empty streets, the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the pavement blending with the chaotic rhythm of your thoughts. the cold rain soaked through your clothes, chilling you to the bone, but it barely registered against the emotional frost that had settled over your heart.

suddenly, you heard your name being called out. the voice was distant, but unmistakable. you recognized it instantly. it was him. you kept walking, trying to push the sound away, as if ignoring it could somehow make it disappear. but then, you heard it again, more urgent, cutting through the rain-soaked night. your steps faltered, and you turned around, your heart sinking as you saw him running towards you, his figure becoming clearer with each stride.

jungkook was drenched, the rain pouring down his face, mingling with the anguish that seemed to be etched into his features. his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. he reached you, breathless and soaked to the skin, but his presence was like a burning beacon in the storm.

“don’t go,” he said, his voice breaking through the relentless roar of the rain. you stared at him, confusion mingling with the pain in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

“i heard about japan,” he continued, his voice raw and pleading. “don’t go. please.”

the words struck you like a blow, but you fought to keep your composure. “i have no reason to stay,” you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain firm. to your surprise, jungkook took your hands into his, his grip warm and desperate. “i need you here,” he said, his eyes filled with a pleading intensity. “i need you to stay.”

the tears that you had been holding back began to well up, blurring your vision. you pulled your hands away from his grasp, your voice cracking as you spoke. “i need to be as far away from you as possible. i like you too much, jungkook. i care for you, but i can’t give you the freedom you want. i need to chase my own freedom.”

you turned away, but his grip was swift and unyielding. he grabbed your arm, pulling you back, his fingers digging in with a desperation that matched your own inner turmoil. you could hear the ragged breaths escaping from his lips as he clung to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “please, just stay. don’t go.” you tried to pull away, but he held on, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close until your back was pressed against his chest. his embrace was both comforting and agonizing, a paradox of warmth and sorrow. you could feel his heartbeat against your back, a rhythmic reminder of the pain that was being shared between you.

he whispered into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “i need you. please don’t leave me.”

the tears streamed down your face uncontrollably as you remained silent, the weight of the decision pressing heavily upon you. his pleas were a bittersweet melody that tore at your heart, the pain of leaving him and the freedom you sought intertwining into a tormenting dance. with a final, wrenching sob, you pulled your arm away, turning to face him one last time. his face was a picture of heartache, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you, his expression a mixture of longing and devastation. the sight of him, so vulnerable and broken, was almost too much to bear.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you turned away once more. the rain seemed to pour harder, as if the heavens were weeping for the love you were leaving behind. you walked away, each step feeling like an eternity, the pain of leaving jungkook and the promise of your future battling within your heart. the finality of your decision was a heavy burden, but you knew that you had to forge ahead, even as the sorrow of what you were leaving behind threatened to consume you.

the night had been a long, dark tunnel through which you stumbled, your steps muffled by the weight of your sorrow. the rain had pattered relentlessly against your window, a haunting lullaby that matched the rhythm of your tearful sobs. you had cried yourself to sleep, each tear a silent testament to the heartache that coursed through you, mingling with the cold emptiness of the night. the warmth of your bed was of little comfort, overshadowed by the turmoil that roiled within your chest.

as dawn broke, its pale light filtered through your curtains, casting a somber glow over the room. the sun’s early rays were a stark contrast to the storm inside you. you rose, your movements slow and weary, the exhaustion from the previous night clinging to you like a second skin. with a heavy heart and leaden steps, you prepared yourself for the day ahead—the day of your presentation.

the studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead. you walked to your piece, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. the sculpture you had created—a delicate representation of butterflies and an outstretched hand—stood in the center of the room, bathed in the cold light of morning. the clay had been shaped with painstaking care, each butterfly a testament to your emotions, each wing a silent echo of your heartache.

you gazed at the sculpture, your breath catching in your throat. the butterflies, which had once been a symbol of your freedom, now seemed to mock your sorrow. their fragile wings, once vibrant and hopeful, were now a muted reflection of your internal struggle. the hand beneath them was extended as if in an eternal gesture of solace, yet it seemed to grasp at something forever out of reach. the piece was a paradox—a representation of the freedom you yearned for, coupled with the love you were leaving behind.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your teacher’s voice, cutting through the silence like a lifeline. “everyone's waiting,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. the words jolted you into action, and with one final, reluctant glance at your sculpture, you lifted it with trembling hands. the weight of the piece felt like an anchor, dragging you toward the theatre room where your presentation awaited.

as you entered the room, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. the space was filled with an array of faces—jihyo and jackson, their supportive expressions a stark contrast to the tension that gripped you; the professors from japan, their keen eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and evaluation; and jungkook, who sat among them, his presence a palpable ache in your chest. he looked worn, his face haggard as if the night had been a battleground of its own. when the room fell silent, you began your presentation, your voice wavering as you started to speak. your gaze frequently flickered to your piece, but it was jungkook’s eyes that held you captive. the connection between you was electric, a silent conversation that spoke louder than words.

you began to explain your sculpture in intricate detail, your words a poignant reflection of the emotions you had poured into it. “the butterflies,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, “represent the pursuit of freedom. they chase after an elusive goal, their wings a delicate dance of hope and struggle. eventually, after chasing freedom for so long, their wings began to wither. fall apart. they become weak, as they search for solace from the hand that awaits them,” each phrase you uttered felt like a resonating dagger piercing through jungkook’s heart, each description a painful reminder of what you were leaving behind.

the room’s ambient noise faded into a background hum as your focus remained solely on jungkook. the intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe, and despite the precision of your words, you could not hide the tears that brimmed in your eyes. the sculpture, which you had hoped would be a beacon of your artistic achievement, was overshadowed by the rawness of your feelings. as you concluded, your voice cracked with emotion. “all they’ve ever known was freedom,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper, “nevertheless, all they ever needed was love.”

the professors responded with polite applause, their approval a distant echo to the tumultuous storm of your emotions. Your heart was focused solely on the sight of jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on the sculpture with an expression of profound sadness. a single tear slid down his cheek, tracing a path that seemed to embody all the words left unsaid between you.

he turned abruptly, his face a canvas of heartbreak, and you watched as he walked away, your eyes following the path of his butterfly tattoo. the symbol, so intricately tied to your shared history, seemed to pulse with a haunting resonance. it was as if the butterfly was an echo of the love and freedom you both had chased, now left fluttering in the storm of your separation. the finality of his departure was a bitter pill, and as you stood there, the weight of the moment pressed heavily upon you. the sculpture, the presentation, and the love you were leaving behind melded into a poignant tableau of loss and longing.

the presentation room, once filled with the fervor of evaluation, gradually settled into a subdued murmur as the professors gathered their thoughts. their voices, though hushed, carried an air of reverence. one of them, an elderly man with a sharp gaze softened by years of experience, approached you with a warm smile. “your work is extraordinary,” he said, his voice rich with genuine admiration. “the way you’ve captured the essence of freedom and love through your sculpture is nothing short of brilliant.”

another professor, a woman with a commanding presence and a graceful poise, nodded in agreement. “indeed,” she added, her eyes sparkling with approval. “your piece speaks volumes. the subtlety and depth of emotion conveyed through your butterflies and the extended hand reflect an understanding of art that goes beyond technique. it’s a rare gift.”

you stood there, feeling their praise wash over you like a gentle tide. despite their words, a hollow emptiness lingered within you, a void that seemed impervious to their accolades. they continued, “we are pleased to inform you that the academy in japan has reviewed your work and welcomes your arrival as soon as tonight.”

the words were a formal acknowledgment of what you had anticipated, but they did little to stir excitement within you. you simply nodded, your face an impassive mask that concealed the whirlwind of emotions brewing beneath. your teacher, who had been a silent witness to the exchange, gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and empathy.

as you prepared to leave, jihyo and jackson were by your side, enveloping you in heartfelt congratulations. “you did it!” jihyo exclaimed, her voice a mixture of joy and sadness. “this is such a great opportunity for you.” jackson joined in, his embrace firm and reassuring. “we’re so proud of you,” he said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “this is your chance to shine, to make your mark on the world.” yet, amidst their praises and supportive words, you felt a profound emptiness. the accolades, the approval, even the opportunity felt distant, overshadowed by the weight of your own emotional turmoil.

just as you were about to leave to pack, jackson’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “wait,” he called softly. you turned to face him, curiosity mingled with trepidation in your eyes.

he took a deep breath, his expression a blend of melancholy and resolve. “i knew it would never be me,” he began, his voice steady yet laden with unspoken emotion. “when i saw your work, and when i saw jungkook’s tattoo, i understood that this was something i could never be a part of.” his words were an acknowledgment of the deep-seated truths that had been woven into the fabric of your shared experiences.

his gaze softened as he pulled a sleek black box from his pocket. “i have something for you,” he said, holding it out with a tender gesture. “jungkook asked me to give this to you.” with a final, gentle kiss to your forehead, he wished you a safe journey, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and resignation. “i’ll always be waiting for you,” he said softly.

you accepted the box, feeling the weight of it in your hand. as you turned to leave, the heaviness of your heart seemed to magnify with every step. the box felt like a tangible piece of the emotions you were grappling with, a silent witness to the complexity of your feelings. once you were home, the task of packing your bags seemed almost secondary to the allure of the box. you set your belongings aside, your gaze fixed on the small, unassuming container. the anticipation was almost unbearable as you slowly opened it.

inside, nestled in a bed of soft black velvet, lay a silver necklace. the pendant was an exquisite butterfly, its delicate wings capturing the light with a subtle sheen. the craftsmanship was impeccable, every detail of the butterfly’s form rendered with a delicate precision that took your breath away. your hands trembled as you lifted the necklace, the weight of it feeling like a physical manifestation of the emotions you had been suppressing. with a mixture of reverence and sorrow, you clasped the necklace around your neck. the cold metal brushed against your skin, and you could feel the butterfly resting over your heart.

as you fastened the clasp, the floodgates opened, and the sobs that had been building up erupted uncontrollably. the tears streamed down your face, each one a reflection of the anguish and longing that had been bottled up inside. the necklace, a symbol of love and departure, seemed to echo the pain of leaving behind the things and people you cherished.

you sank onto your bed, the weight of the necklace a bittersweet reminder of jungkook's affection and the heartbreak that had marked your journey. the room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a space where your emotions were laid bare, each tear a testament to the complexity of your farewell. the necklace glistened softly in the dim light, a silent witness to your sorrow and the new chapter that awaited you. as you lay there, the tears slowly subsiding, the butterfly pendant against your skin felt like a fragile promise—a delicate symbol of the freedom you sought and the love you had to leave behind.

the airport buzzed with the ceaseless motion of travelers, each with their own stories of departure and arrival, but for you, it felt like the world had stopped. every step toward the gate was weighted with the gravity of what you were leaving behind. the butterfly pendant lay cold against your chest, a stark reminder of the connection you still felt to jungkook, its delicate form pressed close to your heart.

the evening was draped in a shroud of melancholy, the terminal lights casting a pale glow over the bustling scene. you walked through the throngs of people, each stride a battle against the urge to turn back, to run away from the decision that tore at your soul. the departure board loomed ahead, and you searched for your gate, the numbers and letters blurring together through the haze of your emotions.

when you finally reached your gate, your heart sank. the moment had come, and the reality of your departure hit you with a force that nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. the weight of your chest was unbearable, the ache of leaving everything behind more than you had anticipated. your mind swirled with thoughts of jungkook, the memories of your time together interwoven with the pain of parting. just as you were about to resign yourself to the inevitable, you heard your name being called. it was a voice you would recognize anywhere, even amidst the cacophony of the airport. you turned slowly, your breath catching in your throat. there he was, running toward you with an urgency that mirrored the turmoil in your heart.

you stood frozen, unable to move as jungkook reached you, his breath ragged from the sprint. his eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and love, locked onto yours. “don’t leave,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions. the tears were quick to follow, faster than your words could form, streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of unspoken pain. he continued, his voice trembling. “i don’t just need you,” he said, his hands trembling as he reached out to cup your face with a gentleness that broke your heart. “i love you. i can’t bear the thought of you being so far from me.”

the background noise of the airport faded into nothingness as you sobbed, your vision blurred by the flood of tears. his touch was a balm to your aching heart, his words a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. he repeated himself, his voice steadying with conviction. “i love you.” in that moment, the world around you ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, standing at the precipice of a decision that would alter the course of your lives. you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold metal of the necklace against your skin.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the sobs that wracked your body. the admission was a release, a catharsis of the emotions you had held back for so long. you clung to him, feeling the strength of his love envelop you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in ages. but even as you surrendered to the moment, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered the harsh truth. you knew it wasn’t love, not in the way that was meant to last. it was a tempest of passion and pain, a connection born from the shared scars of your pasts and the unspoken longing that had drawn you together.

as you stood there, entwined in each other’s arms, you knew that this love, however flawed and fleeting, was all you had ever wanted. it was the reason your heart ached, the reason your soul soared, and as you buried your face in his shoulder, you made a silent promise to cherish this love for as long as it lasted, no matter how brief or bittersweet. no, it wasn't love. nevertheless, you were in love with him.

✧.*

a/n: if there's one thing i'm gonna do it's add jackson wang as a random side character...this was inspired by my favorite horror kdrama aka nevertheless

[alphabetboyluvr]

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise. 

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not. 

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter. 

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out. 

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything. 

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another. 

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends. 

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though. 

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though. 

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends. 

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him. 

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship. 

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does. 

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol. 

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances. 

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior. 

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him. 

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow. 

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom.  “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one. 

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all. 

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response. 

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It���s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar. 

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you. 

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat. 

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex. 

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not. 

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him. 

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all. 

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed. 

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul. 

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy. 

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds. 

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you. 

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar. 

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony. 

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold. 

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation. 

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow. 

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life. 

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are. 

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening. 

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days. 

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory. 

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways. 

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you. 

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires. 

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do. 

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him. 

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up. 

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t. 

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else. 

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you. 

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat. 

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking. 

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism. 

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear. 

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine. 

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth. 

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you. 

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.  

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same. 

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat. 

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his. 

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss. 

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips. 

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck. 

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home. 

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn. 

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his. 

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave. 

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too. 

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you. 

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

[bangtanficsforyou]

They Reject You (maknae line)-03

Pairing: maknae line x reader (fuckboi! Jimin x Reader, Co-worker Taehyung x Reader, Idol Jungkook x Reader)

Warnings: swear words here and there.

Word count: 20K (approx)

A/N: long long long asf! (There's author's note at the bottom too).

Park Jimin

Jimin may have been very determined while pledging that he will make things right but right now, he's utterly confused and clueless. 

How exactly does he make things right?

If he were to go by the way movies suggest, he should be sending you chocolates and bouquets of flowers. But the question is, will that do? Will that be enough? Can hurting someone emotionally be fixed by something material?

He doesn't know.

Oh, that's another thing. In recent days, Jimin's mind has been throwing questions at him which he has no answers to. Which, needless to mention, has been frustrating him to no end.

He feels like there's a lot he needs to figure out before taking any action. Because lord knows he doesn't want to mess up again and given his history he has a habit of doing exactly that over and over again. 

The question that has been bugging him the most is; why does he even want to fix things with you? 

It's a question Jimin wholeheartedly avoids thinking about. Because he doesn't have an answer and thinking about this particular question makes him feel a little too uncomfortable.

However, to him, the question also feels like a big empty blank that he needs to fill in order to make sense of what he should do next. Almost as if, if he figures out this one thing, he will have all his answers. 

Which again, doesn't make sense to him. How can figuring out one thing give answers to the rest? But again, he should begin somewhere. Which obviously isn't going to be answering the big question.

Hence he does what he has been doing for the past few days; searching for ways to apologise on YouTube.

It's quite obvious that his YouTube searches haven't been very successful. But in his defence, it isn't Jimin's fault. It's YouTube's.

Almost every video that YouTube suggests as a response to his search, has this implication that the girl being apologised to, is the lover of the person seeking forgiveness.  

Huh? 

But that's so not the case. You're not his lover.

At some point, Jimin got so frustrated that he went on a mini rant to Taehyung, about how this is the 21st century and how a boy and girl need not always have a romantic relationship. And it's while he's ranting via text that he is hit by the brilliant idea of inviting Taehyung over. After all, if there's someone who's better than Jimin when it comes to the ladies, it's Taehyung. 

Half an hour later, Jimin couldn't rush to the door any faster when the bell rang. 

Taehyung greets the troubled boy with a scoff of disbelief. "Never seen you this excited over my arrival, ever."

Jimin is the least bit interested in paying attention to his best friend's teasing. "You gotta help me. It's already been three days and I haven't been able to figure anything out."

"It's about making up to that girl, right?" On receiving a nod from Jimin, Taehyung continues, "What was her name again?"

"Y/N."

"Right, Y/N," Taehyung makes a note to himself, having a hunch it's a name he will hear quite often. "So where exactly are you stuck?" 

Jimin leads his friend to the couch so that Taehyung can have a look at the screen. "Just look at the results. There are literally thousands of responses but not one that's of use. What's the point of having internet if it can't help you when you need?!"

Taehyung snickers. "Yeah, you did go on a half an hour rant about it via text."

Jimin huffs at the way Taehyung seems to not share the same level of frustration as him. But alas, maybe him being in a light mood is a good thing after all. That way Taehyung can think optimally and come up with a solution and then Jimin can finally have a good night's sleep. 

Gosh when Jimin thinks about it, it sends shivers down his spine. He really needs to sleep. 

"Great! You know all about it, so now get on with it," Jimin speaks with a firm nod of determination and turns his body ninety degrees so that he is entirely facing Taehyung. 

And then just keeps staring. 

Taehyung stares back for a second or two and then bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard, that his ears miss the questions Jimin throws his way, querying about the cause of his laughter. He laughs so hard, that he has to place a pillow against his stomach because it has started hurting. He laughs so hard that it takes him a total of five minutes to stop. 

When he does stop laughing, he utters a sentence that sends Jimin into a similar laughter fit. 

"You're so in love."

Or maybe wait. 

Jimin doesn't laugh. 

Jimin blinks at Taehyung blankly and then scoffs in annoyance. Taehyung can't be serious. "I can't believe you're in the mood of making jokes when I'm so stressed."

"Oh, I can assure you, I'm not joking," Taehyung shakes his head with a chuckle, denying Jimin's words. "You're definitely in love."

Jimin pauses. He doesn't like how sure Taehyung seems to be of his words. It makes Jimin realise that Taehyung isn't joking. Taehyung really thinks Jimin is in love. 

Huh. 

"Don't you think I'd know if I was in love?" 

Taehyung snorts. "Clearly not."

Now Jimin's curious. "What makes you so sure of your words?"

"Hmm, let's think for a moment," Taehyung responds, pretending to think deeply for a moment. "You have been worried sick, haven't been behaving like yourself and are throwing tantrums like a five-year-old kid. All because a girl hasn't been talking to you–"

"That could simply mean she's a very good friend to me," Jimin counters even before Taehyung can finish his sentence. 

"Well, you don't kiss your friends while drunk." 

Jimin shuts up at that, not because he agrees with Taehyung's statement but because he needs a moment to figure out what to reply to that. He needs to think of something that is a justifiable reason for why he had kissed you in his drunken state of mind. 

Unfortunately, the best he comes up with is; "I didn't know what I was doing. I was drunk. Plus, me kissing someone shouldn't be news, drunk or not." 

Taehyung nods. "Right, that's your thing. Kissing and sleeping around."

For the first time in his life, Jimin feels an odd sensation in his chest at the mention of his player lifestyle. He can't place why (another thing he can't figure out, yes) but for the first time he wishes these words were not used to describe him. But admittedly, that's who he is. It's only normal to describe him by who he is. 

Jimin keeps quiet as a sign of letting Taehyung know that he can go on. 

"But surprisingly enough, since Y/N has stopped talking to you, you haven't fooled around with anyone," Taehyung squints his eyes, looking like a detective who's trying to solve a complicated riddle. "Wonder why that might be." 

Jimin misses the sarcastic tone completely because he's taken aback by his friend's words. It's only now that he realises that he indeed, has not fooled around with anyone in the last week or so. 

It's true that he has been going to parties and have been getting drunk and have been doing what he usually does. Except for one thing, it seems. Hooking up. 

Oddly enough, the thought of hooking up with someone didn't even occur to him. It's not like he restrained himself or something. It's like he forgot that aspect of his life, entirely. 

What the fuck.

Taehyung silently watches the realisation play out on Jimin's face. It's entertaining, to say the least. His sweet fuckboy of a friend is in love and has zero clue about it. How sweet. 

He only hopes Jimin comes to his senses while this denial is still sweet and not when it's all bitter and sour. But looking at the way Jimin is struggling, one thing is for sure and that is, he isn't going to get his 'happy realisation' just yet. 

"Your bulb will take time to light up," Taehyung interrupts Jimin's thoughts, "Let me just help you with the apologising thing."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Jimin has been standing in front of your door for five minutes now. With a huge flower bouquet at that. Because according to Taehyung:

"It's not what you give that matters, it's the thought you put into it. It could be flowers, it could be chocolates–yes I know, at the end of the day they are mere materials. But what's wrong with that?

You've gotta start somewhere. What's important is that you show her that you have realised your mistake, you're sorry and that you'd never do something like that ever again. Sending gifts is not all. It might not earn you her forgiveness but it shows that you're trying and that's something." 

Hence, despite not considering sending gifts as an option at first, here Jimin is, doing exactly that. But then it's not like he could come up with a better idea himself and he thinks Taehyung is right, he should at least start somewhere. 

But he wanted to make it as meaningful as he could. Which is why he did a little research and showed up here himself. He needs to do just one last thing, press the calling bell. 

He sighs and tells himself that there's no point in delaying it, the sooner he does it, the better. Plus, it only means that he will be able to see you after another three-day stretch. 

The thought of seeing you again, does it for him. He presses the bell and with a bated breath, waits for you to open the door. 

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long. You swing the door open and Jimin is relieved that your reaction on seeing him is that of surprise and not that of disdain. He would have run in the opposite direction and would have been too ashamed to face you had that been the case. 

Despite not running away, Jimin seems to have lost his capability to talk, for all he does is stare at your face. It gets to the point where you have to be the one to ask him what he's doing at your doorstep. 

Jimin looks away as soon as he snaps out of it and remembers what he's here for. He still doesn't speak and just pushes the bouquet in his hands towards you and urges you to take it. 

It's not like you hadn't noticed the bouquet, it's unmissable really. It's this big, gorgeous arrangement of pink roses and the lighting of the hallway falls on the flowers in a way that makes it look like a portrait. When Jimin tries handing over the bouquet to you, you're once again taken by surprise and out of instinct you take hold of the bouquet without a second thought. 

The moment Jimin knows that you have the bouquet, he takes a few steps back, bows to you and takes off. 

Well, guess he did run away, after all. 

You don't even get the time to question him as to why the sudden flowers as you stand there for a moment until you're sure that Jimin isn't coming back. With a confused sigh, you head back into your apartment. 

"I should put them in water," you mumble to yourself and rest the bouquet on your centre table. 

However, it's at this very moment that your eyes land on a piece of paper that seems to have been folded with great care and has been kept in such a way that it isn't visible from the front but only from the top. 

With a small frown of curiosity, you take the paper out with your fingers. On unfolding, you find a small printed note on the left side and a handwritten note on the right. 

The left side of the note read: "Pink roses signify gratitude, admiration and appreciation." 

The right side of the note read: "You're not the stupid one, I am."

There's a brief moment where you are clueless and you have to think as to what Jimin could possibly mean. However, it doesn't take long for you to figure it out as you're hit with the memory of letting Jimin know how he has made you feel for a very, very long time. 

One particular line sticks out and you have a hunch that his note refers to that.

"I felt so stupid to be hanging out with you when you couldn’t even pause and give me the minimum respect I deserve.”

Huh. 

Is...Is Jimin apologising? 

No way. 

After that day you had thought Jimin would either just stop talking to you or would just show up a few days later as if nothing ever happened. Never had you considered that he would choose to apologise. But apparently, that's exactly what he has decided on. 

Wow. This is way more surprising than the sun rising in the west. 

You do not doubt that he must have taken the help of some of his friends but that's only fair. You can imagine how hard it must be for someone like Jimin to apologise to someone. 

You shake your head in amusement and bring a vase filled with water to place the flowers in. 

Honestly, you hadn't thought much about Jimin since that day. The way you felt lighter after saying what you had wanted to for a long time, was incredibly freeing. You were also proud of yourself for finally standing up and for sticking to your decision to cut him off. It made you wish you had done it sooner. 

But now that Jimin is apologising, in his own way, you are a tad bit surprised that it doesn't throw you into a mental debate. That you don't have to battle yourself on what to do. 

Things are pretty clear in your head. 

You forgive Jimin. 

You had forgiven him long before he even sent you the flowers. With your bottled-up emotions out of the way, it gave you the clarity you needed to see things for how they were. 

You had always had a weak spot for Jimin. Jimin, not so much. You were just another girl to him. But the thing with having weak spots is that they make you vulnerable. 

But Jimin is Jimin. He has no clue about these kind of things. Does he? For you, to expect Jimin to understand the sensitivity of the matter, was basically setting yourself up for disappointment from the get-go. 

It's the same as looking for a mango in a banyan tree. It's fruitless. 

That does not mean, that you blame yourself. When emotions that are beyond your control, get involved, the practical mind is forced to take a back seat. Romantic affection is for sure one such feeling where one tends to lose their thinking and decision-making capabilities. 

You forgive Jimin. You also forgive yourself. 

Does that mean you'd be okay with being friends with Jimin, again? No, you cannot bring yourself to do that. 

The trust and faith you had put in him has been broken and that's enough of a reason for you to move on. 

So what is Jimin to you, now? 

Someone you still have a weak spot for because it's not like you wake up one day and suddenly all your feelings you harboured for a person disappears. But you know you want to move on. You know you do not wish to go back to sharing the same dynamic with Jimin ever again. 

And this time your decision does not come from a place of hurt, anger or frustration. This time it comes from a place of clarity and acceptance, which is also why it doesn't seem difficult to follow through with your choice. 

Nevertheless, you do appreciate Jimin giving you flowers. Although, you think there was no need for it. 

For a brief moment, you contemplate if you should be texting a thank you to him but then decide otherwise when you remember that you have blocked him. Even if it's for the short span of two minutes to send a text, you don't think you're ready to unblock him just yet. 

For the time being you simply settle for putting the vase at the top of one of your drawers and taking good care of them. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day it was a bouquet of white flowers with a note that read: 

I'm sorry; on the left and I know flowers won't earn me your forgiveness but I'm trying; on the right.

It once again was Jimin at your doorstep and once again, before you could say anything, he had decided his job was done as soon as the flowers were in your hands. 

You were too flabbergasted as you had thought that the whole giving you flowers thing was only a one-time thing. You didn't think Jimin would show up for a second time, just the day after, to give you another massive bouquet. 

Maybe you should have seen the same thing happening on the third day but somehow you didn't and were just as surprised, if not more, when Jimin showed up with another bouquet on the third day. 

Before you could say anything, Jimin was gone. 

Which is exactly why you now find yourself unblocking his contact. 

You: hey

You: just letting you know I appreciate the flowers but you do not need to send them anymore 

You: I forgive you

Jimin is on the phone with Taehyung getting an earful about his cowardness and running, when he receives your text.

"I'm telling you, this flower thing is not going to work. She hasn't even tried to talk to me" 

"From what I have heard you are the one who has never allowed her to even open her mouth and–"

"Hold on, someone texted me," Jimin interrupts Taehyung solely to avoid getting called out for the umpteenth time. However, his eyes almost fall out of his sockets when he sees that it's you. "Tae, Y/N texted me!"

Taehyung, too, is surprised to hear this. "What did she say?"

Jimin takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he fills his lungs up with as much air as possible. "Right, I will open her messages." 

When he does read the words you have sent him, he is even more surprised. But even more so, he is relieved. Gosh, he feels like he could cry tears of joy. 

"She forgave me," Jimin speaks in a tone that is a little too loud for Taehyung's ears. 

However, Taehyung doesn't protest as his friend's words seem more important at the moment. "Are you serious? She did? What did she say?"

"She said that she appreciates the flowers and that I need not send them to her anymore and that she forgives me." 

Taehyung pauses for a moment and then grins brightly, the relieved and excited tone of his friend making him feel happy. "Then what are you doing fucker? Text her back, you idiot."

Jimin nods but then responds verbally when he remembers that Taehyung is over the phone and not with him in his room. "I'll text her back."

Saying so, he ends the call with Taehyung and starts typing. 

Jimin: Thank you

Wait. 

Thank you?

Should he say thank you? Is that the right response? But is sending a simple thank you good enough? 

He doesn't think so. 

Quickly deleting the typed words, he begins to think of a better response. 

If not thank you, then what? How about 'How have you been?' No, no, no. That sounds way too casual. 

He should send something that appears to be cool and that doesn't make things awkward. At the same time, he should text something that leaves room for a conversation. A proper one. 

Geez, texting is difficult. 

What if he tries teasing you like he did before everything happened? No, that would make it look like he never took the matter seriously. 

Should he...should he just be uncool and be honest for once? 

Should he just let you know that he feels like a bag of stones has been lifted off his chest and that he can breathe again? That he feels like he can think properly, again? 

That might be too much. 

But maybe he can just try letting you know that he's incredibly grateful for your forgiveness without sounding cheesy? Yeah, he can definitely do that. 

Jimin: Thank you.

Jimin: that word isn't enough but that's the best I have got 

Jimin: I am incredibly grateful and I promise I won't make you regret your choice. 

When you read his texts a few minutes later, you're rather surprised. Is Jimin saying these things? There's no way. 

But then you come to a conclusion that, there indeed is no way. Jimin must have made a friend of his type out these words. Now, that makes a whole lot of sense. 

You chuckle at the thought and react to his messages with a thumbs up and leave it at that. 

The moment Jimin sees you reacting to his messages, he types out another message, one that he has delicately crafted in his mind. Something light that hopefully will lead to a proper conversation.

Jimin: How have you been? 

Your phone pings and you notice Jimin's text. Something uncomfortable churns in your stomach at his words. Jimin most likely thinks things are back to normal and that you two will once again bicker and joke around in no time.

Guess, you need to break it to him. 

You: I've been fine 

You: but I would rather have us not go back to the way we were 

Jimin is already in the middle of forming another text that conveys that things won't be the same and that he'd do better but his heart literally breaks into pieces when he reads the next text. 

You: I don't think we should be in contact anymore 

You: it's a proven fact it doesn't do either of us any good 😂

You: especially me.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Jimin has decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, the fault in our stars. Because he needs something to make him feel sad. Correction; he needs something that he is consciously aware of, to make him feel sad. 

It's much much more annoying when you get sad and heartbroken over something and yet you cannot explain why you feel that way. Imagine suddenly getting stabbed by invisible knives that you can't see but can only feel. Yeah, it feels the same. 

But who cares anyway? Jimin is watching a movie that will make him plenty sad and unlike you, it won't have him feeling like someone who hasn't been in touch with his emotions for ages. 

Taehyung munches on his popcorn slowly, his focus periodically shifting between Jimin and the TV screen. 

Taehyung knew something was up the moment Jimin texted him asking if he would like to watch The Fault in Our Stars. For the people who don't know, Jimin does not watch sad movies, like ever. Because irrespective of how much of a fuckboy he is, he is a huge softie on the inside (which is actually very cliche of him). But as his fuckboy-ness would have it, he absolutely hates crying. 

Taehyung does not believe that Jimin does not cry or that he tries to keep his tears at bay. Because from the few times that he has seen his friend crying, he knows that he isn't someone who's good at holding his tears back. So no, Jimin does cry and when he does, he cries like a baby. However, what Jimin ensures is that he does not cry in front of anyone.

But here's Jimin, crying in front of Taehyung. 

This boy is going to give me a headache, Taehyung thinks with a deep inhale as he once again shifts his focus from Jimin to the screen.

It must have been another fifteen minutes or so when he hears a small sniffle coming from his left. Huh, things haven't even turned that sad in the movie yet. 

Taehyung looks at his friend only to realise his suspicions are right when he notices his friend subtly wiping under his eyes. 

Taehyung takes hold of the remote and switches the TV off. 

He has had enough. 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with perplexed features but before he can ask a question, Taehyung is getting up from his seat to turn the lights on. 

This makes Jimin quickly grab a few tissues and wipe at the corner of his eyes. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're a drama queen or a little kid." 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with a clueless expression. As long as he pretends he has no clue what Taehyung is talking about, it should be good. 

Taehyung simply scoffs and shakes his head in defeat. "Do you want to talk about it or should I just leave?" 

This has Jimin facing away from Taehyung and he scowls at the centre table. "I have nothing to talk about."

"Cool then, I have some important work to do, I'll get going." 

"Sure do that. Leave me. Everyone does, why shouldn't you?"

Ah. Drama queen, it is. 

"So what Y/N left? Like did she leave you on seen or something? Is that why you're so sad and upset?" Taehyung guesses the possible cause of Jimin's state from his words. 

Jimin wishes it was that simple. He honestly would give anything for Taehyung's words to be right, for that being the cause of his sadness. But if only.

Taehyung deduces that things might not be that simple when Jimin does not give a verbal answer and appears to become more sulky. 

Taehyung makes his way to the couch and claims his previous seat next to Jimin. "What will you take to just tell me what went wrong? I know you're dying to let it out."

Jimin looks at his friend for a moment then suddenly reaches out to grab his phone from the table. He opens your texts and just places his phone in Taehyung's hands. 

With a small concentrated frown, he takes a look at the screen and goes through the chats. 

"So this is what has gotten you like this," he mumbles to himself.  "Have you tried talking to her and telling her that you won't be repeating the same things again?" 

Jimin shakes his head. "She never gave me the chance to do so."

Taehyung hums, deep in thought. "What do you want to do now?" 

"I don't think it matters."

"It does. Now tell me what do you want?"

Jimin looks up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. "I think I want us to go back to the way we were."

Taehyung, although wanting to, does not show the disbelief he feels at Jimin's words. He keeps his composure calm so that Jimin does not feel uncomfortable. "What you're saying is you want to go back to the way you would annoy her and she would put up with it?"

Jimin's spirit lifts just a little bit when he remembers how things were before and he finds himself absentmindedly nodding. 

"Which would also mean going back to the way you would keep sleeping around with people and then at the same time would make flirty comments towards Y/N?" 

The tiny little corner of his mouth that had lifted, once again turns into a scowl as Taehyung's words register in his brain. It's as if he's knocked into his senses. 

Noticing that Taehyung has successfully managed to grab Jimin's attention, he hopes he can only make Jimin see his point. "Honestly, Jimin have you ever realised where you went wrong? Or did you apologise to her solely because you thought that was what she wanted and that would have her back in your life?" 

Questions. Another set of questions. Jimin could honestly scream. But something about Taehyung's gaze makes him unable to run away from the queries like he has been doing all this time.

He considers Taehyung's words for a moment and then mumbles in a small voice, "I don't know."

Taehyung hums, having guessed that answer. 

"I just wanted to apologise to her because I know I have hurt her," Jimin keeps his tone soft and vulnerable. "I may not know all the ways in which I have hurt her but I know I should have respected her wishes and should have stopped flirting with her when she had asked."

"I may not know exactly how or why it affected her but I know it led her to be angry–" Jimin breaks off suddenly when a thought occurs to him and soon he looks even more ashamed, "–and they say all anger stems from hidden pain. If that's true then I must have caused her pain."

Taehyung releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He wonders how his friend can be both stupid and smart at the same time and why exactly does his brain start working when the damage has already been done. 

"So you realise that you have caused her some sort of pain?" 

"I must have," Jimin agrees. 

"Have you then tried figuring out what exactly she means to you?" 

Jimin's tears have dried, thanks to the ongoing conversation that has distracted him enough to have the wheels of his brain running again.  

"She's someone I care about a lot and someone I want in my life." 

"As a friend?" Taehyung pushes. 

Jimin nods. 

Taehyung hums, "I think you really need to sit with yourself and think things through." 

—-------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is dumb and Taehyung is loyal.

Which is why the latter finds himself in the middle of a party, waiting for you to arrive. 

A week of Jimin moping and being a sullen child, had Taehyung take matters into his own hands. Jimin could not possibly figure things out by himself even if everyone around him could. Taehyung only hopes he will admit what has been brewing for a long time, when his feelings smack him right across the face. 

Taehyung leans against the bar counter, his eyes hardly moving from the entrance as he waits for you to walk through the door. 

It takes about another fifteen minutes of his eyes locked on the door, for you to finally emerge. 

Taehyung relaxes a breath. He had to do a lot of digging to find a common friend and for him to convince that common friend to somehow convince you to come to the party. He wasn't sure if all of this would work, but now that you're here, success is a step closer. 

He gives you five minutes to say your hi's and hello's and then, he's making his way to you. 

"And you must be Y/N?" 

You look at the guy who seems to know you by your name and frown when you don't recall ever having interacted with him. "And you must be?"

"Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."

Your brain clicks in realisation. Taehyung, a name you have heard Jimin mention many times. However, this is the first time that you get to put a face to the said name. 

"I have heard of you," you nod as a feeling of reluctance takes over you. Why is Taehyung approaching you? 

He smiles. "I'm not surprised by that."

You return his smile awkwardly and wonder what you should be saying next. "How do you know me?" 

"Let's just say I have heard of you as well," his smile turns into a full-blown grin as if he's enjoying this. 

"From Jimin?" 

"Ah yes. We both have an idiot named Jimin in our lives."

You feel your traitor heart get curious at the confirmation. Taehyung knows of you from Jimin? Jimin talked about you to his friends? The thought of that catches you with surprise as you never thought you were ever important enough to him, for him to do that. You thought you were just another girl who fell for him. However, your curiosity is soon overtaken by the thought of him making light and fun of your feelings.

"That idiot, however, speaks highly of you, which is why I just could not miss the opportunity to speak to you," Taehyung quips, sensing the thoughts inside your head. 

You look at Taehyung, wondering what to make of his words. You just find it difficult to believe that Jimin speaks highly of you. One speaks highly of the people they respect and well—no, you don't want your mind to wander there.

"So you're here speaking to me, to verify the things Jimin has said about me?" You keep your tone light, playful and teasing, so as to not come off as rude. While, on the inside, you're really confused as fuck as to what to make out of this. Does Taehyung not know of the recent changes in the dynamics between you and Jimin? 

"Oh no, absolutely not," he shakes his head. "I do not doubt a thing Jimin has said about you. I'm only here out of sheer curiosity and with the intent to get to know you better."

And some ulterior purposes. That part he leaves unspoken. 

You observe him for a moment and relax a little when you realise that he seems genuine. You don't know, why he's here and what he wants from you, but you decide talking to him won't be of any harm.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is grumpy as fuck when he walks in and is greeted by the loud music that blasts through the speakers. Goodness, why did he enjoy partying, again? 

He really wouldn't be here had it not been for Taehyung's constant nagging that he had something important to say, and that couldn't be done unless he attended the party. 

Technically, his words made zero sense. Taehyung couldn't just say whatever important thing he had to say, over the phone? Apparently, according to him, he couldn't. 

He prays to whatever god is out there, for the sake of Taehyung that he finds him soon. 

The universe, however, has other plans. 

Jimjn spots you before he spots Taehyung. He sees you smiling wide and even in the dimmed lights, he can see the way your eyes shine with amusement and joy. As selfish as it is, Jimin feels any amount of hope he might have had, leave at the sight. You're clearly doing fine without him. A part of him wishes you weren't. 

It feels eerily similar to the time when he had spotted you on his way to class. 

But then he realises you are with a guy. A strange emotion fills him, one that he believes he hasn't felt before, ever. He realises he's jealous. He's so jealous of the lucky bastard who's getting to make you laugh and with whom you seem so comfortable with. With that jealousy, comes a huge wave of insecurity. The guy doesn't seem to have messed up like Jimin did. He doesn't seem to be someone you feel the need to cut off your life. All of which Jimin has done and is. 

However, when the light falls on the face of the said guy, Jimin is hit with a sense of anger and confirmation that the said guy is much, much better than Jimin is. 

Taehyung is smart, has a good sense of humour and surely knows more when it comes to matters of the heart. Whereas, Jimin has only been confused and no matter how hard he has tried, he has been unsuccessful in clearing up the cloud of confusion. 

For a brief moment, he is taken back to the words Taehyung had said to him–you're so in love–which Jimin had found utterly ridiculous at the time. However, now that he finds himself in the hold of jealousy and a brewing insecurity that only you hold the power to put a stop to, he doesn't find the idea as absurd. 

He's never been in love before. But somehow he is still hit with the realisation that all his desperation, anger, jealousy and insecurities stem from one thing and one thing only. His love for you. 

He is hit with more and more clarity with each passing moment as he stares at you. An overwhelming urge to make you his, washes over him and with strong, determined steps, he walks in the direction where you chat with Taehyung. 

The moment the two of you realise Jimin's presence, your smile falters whereas Taehyung's widens.

"Jimin," you whisper, caught completely off guard. 

"Y/N," he greets you back. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Me neither," you mumble in a small voice. 

"How have you been?" 

Neither of you miss the fact that this was the very same question he had asked via text, to which you had made it clear that things would never be the same, instead of actually answering him. 

However, now that you both stand in front of each other, you think it would be incredibly rude to not answer him. "I'm fine." 

Your short answer leaves no further room for conversation and it's only when you realise that Jimin refuses to avert his eyes from you, that you ask him back the same question. 

"I've been anything but fine," Jimin answers, without missing a beat. 

His answer is similar to yours in terms of being short and vague. However, his response means exactly the opposite of yours. 

You stifle the question that's on the tip of your tongue and push away the overgrowing concern at his answer. This is exactly why you had chosen to end whatever friendship you two had over text. You were unsure of the feelings Jimin would stir within you. Sure, you have made the choice of moving on from him but there was no denying that you haven't moved on yet. 

You nod and think it would be best to include Taehyung in the conversation. He would surely know how to break the tension. However, you realise at the same time as Jimin does that Taehyung has disappeared into thin air. 

Taehyung's gone, you think with surprise and disbelief, having no clue when he left. 

Taehyung's gone, Jimin thinks, beaming with glee and satisfaction. 

"Do you want a drink?" Jimin asks, having no intention of leaving. 

"I could actually do with some alcohol," you mumble mainly to yourself, but somehow despite the loud music, Jimin manages to hear you. The very next moment he has two drinks in his hands and gracefully offers you one.

"I have a few things to say," he says after a few sips.

Oh god. Please be kind to my heart. You stay quiet. You were not prepared to face Jimin. After texting him that day, you had honestly thought that was it. It was hard for you to send him those words. So incredibly hard. But you knew it was for the best.  

A part of you had wished for Jimin to regret losing you. But you knew that thought to be impractical. You knew in reality, Jimin must have slipped into someone's bed instead of giving you a second thought. You had honestly thought Jimin's attempt at apologising with flowers was merely a result of his hurt to the ego. Nevertheless, you appreciate his effort and know better than to have any further expectations from the man. 

However, this is incredibly confusing. More so, because the Jimin who was sending you those flowers would run away right after he knew that the flowers had reached their destination. However, this Jimin, stands in front of you with eyes locked with yours, refusing to back down. 

"I had sent those flowers to you, because I knew I had to apologise. I knew I messed up. I knew I hurt you. Don't get me wrong, the knowledge that I had hurt you was enough of a slap on my face, but I didn't know what it felt like for you," he takes a pause, "but now I do."

Jimin is aware that comparing what he has put you through with what he felt for merely a few minutes after seeing you with Taehyung, is completely unfair. However, it'd be fair to say he has got a taste of his own medicine and he fucking hates himself to have you put through that, over and over again. 

"I know now, because–," he takes a deep breath, afraid you won't believe him, "–I have come to the realisation that I'm in love with you."

Your pupils dilate in shock and after a brief moment, your expressions morph into that of disbelief, much like Jimin had expected. 

"I don't expect you to believe it. I know I haven't done much to earn your trust. All I ask is for you to give me a chance to prove myself."

You're too shocked to make coherent thoughts. As a matter of fact, the severity of Jimin's words doesn't click in your brain. How can it, when you have seen it for yourself how appalled Jimin feels at the thought of commitment? How can you digest the thought of Jimin saying these words, that too, to you? 

"What do you want, Jimin?" You ask wanting the interaction to be cut short, afraid that the longer you stay in his presence the more you will find yourself inclined to believe his words. 

"Let me take you out on a date." 

Kim Taehyung

I'm in a relationship.

You absent-mindedly stare at the words on your screen as you feel the mix of emotions resurface yet again. 

Taehyung is in a relationship. The Taehyung you love so dearly, is in a relationship. And if you are to go with his status updates, he's quite happy about it as well. 

How do you feel about it, exactly? 

You feel betrayed, hurt, confused, angry, perplexed, sad, annoyed, embarrassed, lonely, frustrated, upset. These emotions are only a few to name. There's so much you think and believe, you still haven't figured out yet. Anytime, you try to focus on your emotions in hopes that you will be able to let it all out, all you come up with is an empty feeling. 

That's another thing. You haven't cried at all. But you want to. You want to just let all of it hit you at once and get it off your chest. Because the heavy uncomfortable feeling that often stirs your heart is not something you wish to deal with for long. 

Sometimes your mind comes up with all the little things and moments that had made Taehyung so special to you and you find yourself this close to breaking into uncontrollable sobs. But then it just never happens. It's like someone is pressing the accelerator and the brake at the same time and you're just there, frozen in time, not knowing what to do. 

You doubt if you have even fully grasped the concept of Taehyung being in a relationship. The thought that he's in one and you got to learn about it only after he committed, that too through a WhatsApp status, is completely unbelievable to you for some reason. No matter how much you try, a part of you doesn't want to believe it.

It's a whole set of emotions you never thought Taehyung would make you feel. He was your feel-good person, one of your best friends and someone you trusted with your entire heart. It's something you don't even know as to how to react to. 

"Y/N!"

You blink back to reality when someone shakes you by your shoulders. "Huh?" 

"You zoned out again."

"Oh," you speak in a tone of realisation, "I'm sorry–"

"Nothing to apologise for. Just forget whoever that guy is. He's surely not treating you right if you have this conflicted look on your face all the time."

If only it were that easy. You wish it was that easy. 

You chuckle at your next desk co-worker, Shanaya's, words. "I will surely contemplate on your words." 

"Men don't deserve shit from us if they treat us like shit," she nods seriously. "And with the way, you have had this sad-confused look in your eyes for a whole week now, I strongly doubt that man is any good for you."

Oh yeah, it's been a week.

Although, you could have been fooled by how the admittance of his relationship remains the last text exchanged between the two of you. You just didn't know how to respond to him at that time. You were too busy absorbing the shock to think of a proper response. 

You had just shut your net off and tried your hardest to fall asleep. But you just couldn't get a blink of sleep and since then you also couldn't bring yourself to pretend to be fine with him, when you were far from it.

Maybe you had posted your status a little too frequently to subtly let him know that you're online and well-active on your socials but are simply choosing to not talk to him. On the other side of the coin, is the fact that you feel disheartened that he hasn't made any effort to talk to you. It's the longest the both of you have gone without talking to each other. 

A hand waves in front of your face gaining your attention as your co-worker looks at you knowingly. 

"See! Not good for you."

You smile at her words and shake your head softly, amused by her straightforward and direct nature. 

—-----------

"How are you?"

You roll your eyes before replying. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Hmm," your best friend hums. "On a scale of 1 to 10?"

"Idk man, 7?"

"That's an improvement," she speaks to herself. "Now tell me, have you blocked Taehyung, yet?"

"I won't do that," you reply softly with a tone of surety. 

She sighs over the phone. "Babe, he's a dick. Why haven't you cut him off yet, is beyond me."

Your best friend is of the kind whom if you call crying, she'd ask you to first get rid of the person who's responsible for your tears and then she will allow you to tell her what went down for you to cry. If only she were in the same city as you, she'd have committed the crimes herself instead of having to beg you to do them. 

She's protective of you, incredibly so. 

When you had told her everything about Taehyung, she had muttered to herself something along the lines of how she knew he was gonna turn out to be a dickhead. You never queried her on that because in a way you knew what she meant. 

On learning about the situation you and Taehyung were in and about his unwillingness to be in a relationship, she was very firm about making her point that Taehyung was only making excuses. She was adamant that a person who really loves you wouldn't come up with reasons as to why they shouldn't be together. At the time, you had acknowledged what she was trying to say but you added that sometimes people get scared and fear often turns out to be an emotion that is rather difficult to overcome.

With much reassurance from your side that Taehyung was a great guy, she had let go of the topic. However, to say that Taehyung has now earned the entirety of your best friend's hatred, would be an understatement. You'd have been really concerned about his safety had she been in the city. 

"He–", you pause briefly, "–isn't a bad guy." 

Your friend scoffs. "Right. He's the worst."

"He is nice," you say a little more firmly. 

"Oh! Yes please, someone please give him a Nobel prize for his niceness!"

To your surprise the tone in which she speaks, makes you burst out laughing. "You really hate him, don't you?"

"Has he ever given me a reason to NOT despise him?" 

You chuckle as your laughter dies off. "Well, I don't blame you. I'd hate the guy as well if I was in your place."

"Hah! So you agree on something with me."

"But," you emphasise on the word, "he's not a bad guy. I don't know how everything turned out to be this way but trust me he has a very tender heart."

"I cannot believe you're making excuses for him, Y/N." 

Her surprisingly soft tone serves as a reminder that your best friend is probably one of the most compassionate and understanding people you've ever met. The only time you've seen her behave like an angry child who's ready to throw some punches, is when you get hurt. 

And admittedly, you're the same way when it comes to her.

"I'm not making excuses for him, I know him. He'd never intentionally hurt someone."

"But he did hurt you!!!"

"I know and I doubt he realises it," you sigh. "But I need to know his side of things."

"I'm sure he will run if you try to confront him," she grumbles. "He'll probably not even reply if you tell him how much of a dick he's been."

"Heyyy," a childish whine escapes your lips. "I have more faith in him than that. He respects me enough to talk things out."

She makes a sound of complete disbelief, "You bet my ass he would just pull stuff out of his ass."

"We will see," you chuckle.

You had to make up your mind sooner or later and somehow the conversation with your best friend has reminded you of the faith you have in Taehyung. If you need answers, you're sure he'd give them. Most importantly, you don't plan on losing the friendship you have with him this easily. But you don't think you'd be able to just push everything aside and pretend that things are fine. You need to clear it out. You need for him to realise that he has hurt you and you need to know how things changed so quickly. 

—————————————————————

You: hey 

It took you another day to get the simple three-letter word out of your system. But you do it the very first thing in the morning after waking up. Whatever roller coaster ride of emotion it is going to take you on, you want it over by today. 

Thankfully, it takes only ten minutes for your phone to ping to notify you of a message from Taehyung. 

Tae 🐻: hello, birdie 👋

A snort escapes you when you imagine all the lovely cuss words that would leave your best friend's mouth if she were to learn of his response to your 'hey'.  

You, too, find yourself being amused yet disappointed at how oblivious he seems to be. 

You: I'm sorry for not responding to your texts any sooner

Chewing on your lower lip, you click on the send button. While this text is meant to serve as an apology, it also serves as a means for you to know whether he really is as clueless as he seems. You're curious if he's at least aware that something must have been wrong for you to not text for this long.

Tae 🐻: It's okay, don't worry. I understand!

Tae 🐻: work can get busy 

Tae 🐻: it's fine! 

Sighing, you realise it's fruitless. You need to be upfront as there's no other way for you to go about it. 

You: uhmm thanks 

You: but before we catch up and all that, can I just get a few things off my chest?

Tae 🐻: sure! Go ahead. 

Suddenly you find yourself feeling anxious. You are not quite sure how this is going to turn out and how you're going to put your emotions into words. It sure appears to be a difficult job considering how muddled your brain feels every time you think about the events that have led to this.

You:  i don't really know how to say what i want to say lol

You: this is so awkward

Tae 🐻: just say it

Tae 🐻: it's the same ol' me after all

Some of your anxiety softens at his words. 

You: i know but i just dk how to say it 😂

Tae 🐻: that's okay

Tae 🐻: would it be more comfortable for you if I were to go offline? and I can check your messages when you give me the green signal to open your texts? 

Now that he mentions it, you think that would be lovely. That way you could take your time figuring out how to word your sentences without having the rush of typing things out fast over the worry of him coming to assumptions before you say the full thing. 

You: that'd be great! 

You: thank you! 

Tae 🐻: well then, I'll go offline. You speak your heart out 😌

You: open my texts only when you see a thumbs up or a message that directly asks you to open it. Okay?

Tae 🐻: done 👍

Sighing, you relax on your sofa and think. Now that he's offline, you need to figure out what to say. Rather, where to start because you just have so much to say. 

It takes you another two or three minutes before you start typing. 

You: so idk how this is gonna sound or how it's gonna get interpreted but I really need this out of my chest for it's been bothering me the last few days. 

You: so ummm, you know we both had openly admitted to having feelings for each other and then you told me you weren't really ready for a relationship? And I agreed to things being the way they were because I never wanted to pressurise you. I always wanted to be a friend first, whom you can trust and feel safe with, more than anything else. 

You: it's true that we never had a name for what we were. But it's because of that very reason that it always remained very confusing to me as to where we stood. Especially where you stood. 

You: i always could have asked in the course of the year as to where we stood but i always let you be because i was cautious that asking you, would in a way, pressurise you. 

You: however, that is not to say that i wasn't put in a dilemma when i would get propositions for going out on dates or when someone would ask me out. 

You: i didn't know where your feelings for me lied. While I avoided any assumptions, i also didn't act as if you did not have feelings for me. Because what if you did and then my actions hurt you? I knew how much you have been hurt in the past and i just didn't want to add to that. 

Your fingers pause as you take a look at what you have covered so far. When you go through your last two texts, you go awry at the thought of sounding like someone who's claiming to have done him some huge favour. 

You: I'm not saying all this to say that i have done you a huge favour or something by the way. Or that you owe me something in return. 

You: I'm just saying this because when you're so cautious and thoughtful over someone, it hurts to be on the receiving end of actions that make you feel incredibly stupid. 

You: it would have been better if you had told me, you know? That "hey, there's this girl i like," and I'm not saying in a way that you had to take my permission or something but just that it would have been nice to know that you thought of me and of what kind of an effect it would have on me. 

You: I just wish I didn't have to learn from a WhatsApp status 

You pause before thinking if you have missed anything. When you go through your words, you realise that you indeed have missed something important. 

You see, in the mix of all the heavy emotions, you also are happy. You're happy for him. That's something you realised the very day you learned about his relationship. It's odd but even in the midst of all the confusion you were feeling, a part of you felt glad.

You were glad that he found someone he loves and someone who makes him happy. You also found yourself excited on his behalf. 

You won't lie, you were surprised that you weren't jealous. Before Taehyung, for a long time, you had hardly had any guy in your life except for fleeting crushes. Even then, you can acknowledge the fact that jealousy is a very natural emotion to feel in this scenario. However, when you realised that you were happy for him and that happiness did not originate from a place where you had to force it, you were also proud. 

To you, there's no greater testimony of your love than that. 

You: i don't think i have mentioned this before but I'm really happy and excited for you.

You: go ahead and open your texts ig 😂

There are questions in your mind that you think would have been better had you asked them. Questions as to how he was unwilling to be in a relationship when it came to you but suddenly found himself being in a relationship a year later? 

However, you decide that's something you'd rather not ask. 

When you think of it, you indeed find it unfair and there's perhaps that hint of anger that bubbles in your stomach. But you recognise that there's no purpose in asking that question. 

It's possible that his feelings for her run deeper than they ever did for you. Or it could be the fact that they work together and it's human that you'd grow close to someone who's there with you physically rather than someone whom you only talk to over the phone or via texts. 

But figuring out the why is none of your business. Neither is it something you're concerned with. Whatever the reason might be, he's in a relationship and he has already made a choice. The why is irrelevant now. 

Another reason, the why is irrelevant to you is because, you have never found yourself thinking along the lines of what you could have done differently for him to stay and choose you. You have never wondered if it was something you lacked. You'd never let yourself think that way for anyone. Once upon a time, you did. You were filled with insecurities and would question yourself anytime someone would hurt you or leave you. But you have overcome that and have learnt to love yourself. You'd never undo all that progress by entertaining those thoughts ever again. Even if it's Taehyung. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen letting you know Taehyung is typing. His text soon arrives making your breath hitch. 

Tae 🐻: I have read your texts. Give me some time, and I'll reply to them. 

So you'll have to wait. 

It's fair you think, he can take the time he needs, to figure out what he has to say. 

You only hope you can get over this soon. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's been an entire day since Taehyung said he'd reply to your texts but unfortunately, he hasn't yet. 

You know he will reply, you have that faith in him but you only wish he'd do it sooner. There's that lingering anxiety that comes with being unable to predict what he's going to say. 

You have also been wondering if you have worded your words correctly. You found yourself worrying what if you came across as jealous and as someone who's unhappy for him? You really hope you didn't sound bitter because you aren't. 

Yes, there's a part of you that is sad because the moments that you thought were special for the both of you, were all in your head. Because you loved him.

There's also this feeling that now you have been replaced. That now, things won't ever be the same. Perhaps, a part of you wishes you could stay in your head a little longer and pretend. 

But all of that aside, you also have immense amounts of trust in the friendship you both share. Taehyung is someone who is incredibly kind and loving, and he's a great friend in general and you're sure that both of you would somehow manage to keep your friendship intact.

Penny: Has he replied yet? 

You look down at the screen to find a text from your best friend.

You: no 

You: not yet 

Penny: huh told you

Penny: he's a dick 

You smile and shake your head.

Knowing you have a long day ahead, you cook yourself a plate full of breakfast and get ready for work. In a way, you're glad that there's work to keep you busy. You do not know what you'd have done had it been a Sunday. You'd probably have been restless as fuck and would have been checking your phone every five minutes.

Thanks to your workload, you only get time to check your phone during lunch. However, the workload doesn't help with the disappointment you feel, when each time that you do check your phone and find that there's no new message from Taehyung. The disappointment only increases when you realise he has put a status about some funny fact regarding hyenas. 

Whatever he sends you as a response to your texts, it better be good to have you kept waiting this long. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's nine in the evening and you're at home when you finally receive Taehyung's text. Your anxiousness is overpowered by curiosity and impatience as you click on his message. It's a wordy and lengthy one. 

Tae 🐻: I was confused, Y/N. Very confused. Although I had confessed my feelings to you, I was extremely confused and scared to take a step forward. When things with Kira ended, I was lonely and sad and my thoughts were very self-destructive. I had zero self-confidence. Talking to you, spending time with you, and texting you gave me the greatest joy and it acted as an escape from those thoughts, feelings and difficulties I was facing at the time. However, if you ask me now, where my feelings originated from, I wouldn't be able to tell. Were they genuine or a result of my love-starved state, I wouldn't be able to tell. But I'm glad it did as it helped me move on from the grief that accompanied my breakup. You have no idea how much you helped me at the time and I was selfish enough to take all of it, without thinking of the consequences, one of which was falling for you. This conversation we are having now is one which we should have had long ago. But I was scared that me not taking the step forward and telling you all this, would make you lose interest in me. Instead, I kept you hanging. I thank you for always being such an amazing friend. I have always loved you but I was too scared to put the tag of a relationship. I mistook my infatuation as readiness for being in a relationship. I'm guilty of all the things you mentioned but I don't know what to do to make things right, as I really don't want to lose the friendship we have. With all that I have done, you'd obviously think that I don't care about you, or at least not as much as you do, but trust me, I do. I have just been shit at expressing my gratitude and telling you how much you mean to me. I'll do better. I just hope you have it in your heart to forgive me for my mistakes. Thank you.

Something that you have been really hoping for, finally happens. You cry. 

Fat, angry droplets of tears roll down your face and you close your eyes shut as the searing pain spreads in your chest. 

Everything just feels so final and also so fruitless. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen and you realise that Taehyjng must have noticed that you have read his message. 

Tae 🐻: say something

Tae 🐻: this is making me anxious 😅

Despite your blurry vision and him being the cause of your pain, you feel the need to put him at ease. 

You: i appreciate you being honest with me 

You: I'll reply properly in a while 

You: just let me have a good cry first 

The petty part of you wants him to know that you're crying, you want him to know how hurt you are. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N?

Tae 🐻: are you okay?

You don't reply, not having it in yourself to lie.

You let your tears flow as you cry silently.

It's too much for you. You feel used. You feel like a rebound. You feel like a bridge he walked on to reach his destination and to move on from his past. Your heart feels walked all over. Your love feels irrelevant. 

It's true that you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted him to move on from the hurt caused by Kira. You wanted him to feel good about himself. All because you loved him. But you never thought your love was so disposable to him. That it would only be the means for him to move on to someone else. 

What's worse is, despite all of that you understand. You understand that it wasn't a conscious choice of his to hurt you. He, himself, wasn't aware that he was using your love to heal himself. 

It's worse because a part of you feels bitter and angry. If you were the one who helped him get over his hurt, shouldn't he show at least a bit of loyalty to you? You feel angry because he didn't communicate, he left you in the dark and just assumed that you must have been detached enough from your feelings for you to not be bothered by his new relationship. But then a part of you understands that as well. 

With Taehyung, it's a tug of war where you want to be mad at him and feel betrayed by him but no matter what, your love for him makes you see things from his point of view. 

In a way, you find it surprising as well because you never realised just how deep your love runs. Seeing their side of things despite the hurt they have caused? Isn't that love at its purest? However, that makes you ache in pain as well. You loved him as your own. Only to realise that his love for you was merely an infatuation.

His love for you was shallow. 

You think it would have been better if he were an asshole whom you could just hate. It would have been easier for you because you'd know he wasn't worth your time. But how do you handle all of this when he's one of your closest friends? 

That's a question you'd probably need time to answer. You need time to let the stinging pain in your chest subside. You need time to let yourself process the silent heartbreak you're going through. 

With shaky hands and blurry vision, you block Taehyung. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

Last Friday of every month, all your colleagues go out to have dinner and drinks together. You enjoy accompanying them because honestly, it is nice and fun, almost like a little treat to yourself. However, this week, you're not really sure you'd like that. You don't have the energy to socialise.

One might argue that with recent events in mind, the best thing to do would probably be just that, to socialise, as it would take your mind off things that have been bugging you. But then you have always been the type who needs energy to socialise rather than the kind who energises themselves from socialising. 

You have almost completed packing your bag when someone taps on your shoulders. 

"You're coming with us today, right?" Shanaya queries, having a suspicious glint in her eyes as if she's already aware of your plans of not joining. 

Shaking your head softly, you confirm her suspicions. However, Shanaya is having none of that.

"You have to come," she insists, sounding determined. "It's my birthday treat."

You're thoroughly surprised at the information. "It's your birthday today? Oh my god, I'm so sorry–"

"It's not today, it's tomorrow," she cuts you off. "But tomorrow is off so it's an early birthday treat."

She looks at you with such pleading eyes that you cannot bring yourself to say no to her. Reluctantly you smile and the next thing you know, you're being wrapped in a warm hug. 

"Yay, thank you," she squeals, excited. "Now common, let's go."

As it turns out, today's destination is one stop away. Usually, you all go to someplace that's near and doesn't require transportation. However, Shanaya wanted to take all of you to a particular place that, according to her, serves the best dumplings and noodles. Who can say no to Shanaya, anyway?

As you sit there and wait with the others for the bus to arrive, you look at the screen with Taehyung's conversation open. 

It's only yesterday that you unblocked him. You were well aware that you'd be unblocking him and talking to him again at some point. The friendship was too precious for you to let go. And it's not something you're saying simply because you love him. If you were to look back, Taehyung has never been a bad friend to you. He's been there for you whenever you needed. He has never let you down when it comes to friendship. 

However, you doubt you're ready to talk to him just yet. That doesn't mean you don't want to.

There's just so much that you have to tell him. The little things that have occurred over the course of the two weeks that you had him blocked. Everything feels a little incomplete unless shared with him. 

Your fingers hover over his profile picture and you hesitate to click on it. He has uploaded a new profile picture and you wonder if it is too weird to just stare at it.

"Y/N?" 

The sound of your name startles you and while trying to hide your phone screen, you accidentally end up clicking on the small call button right next to the profile picture. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You cut the call immediately and stare at the screen which now shows his name at the top of your call logs. He's gonna see a missed call from you, shit. 

"The bus is here, Y/N."

Oh right, that must be why Mike had called for you. You quickly gather your thoughts and get on the bus, shying away from the worried look Shanaya throws your way. 

When you get a seat on the bus, the first thing you do is shoot him a text. You indeed are not ready to talk to him but your accidental call has ruined your plans. 

You: I'm so sorry

You: i called you by mistake

You know it will probably be a while until he sees your call and your text and it's a good thing that you have your co-workers to accompany you. That way you'd be distracted enough to not fret about it unnecessarily. 

All of you get down when your stop arrives and make your way inside the small restaurant. 

The chatter and the giggles and the latest gossip about your boss is enough for you to temporarily ignore the sinking sadness that sits at the pit of your stomach. 

"Y/N, drinks?"

Your colleagues are well familiar with the answer to this question. You don't prefer drinking. The reason behind that, however, is not known to them.

Like the majority of people, you enjoy getting drunk and letting it loose. However, you're the kind of drunk who gets giggly and finds every little thing amusing. And for some reason, you feel comfortable to let that part of you out, only in the presence of a few people. Four, to be exact. 

One, your best friend. Two, Min Yoongi. Three, Lee Sana. And four, Kim Taehyung. 

Needless to say, you hardly ever get the chance to get drunk. 

The usual answer rests on the tip of your tongue, but there's also this desperation for you to let go of the heaviness. You really could do with some giggles and amusement.

"I'd probably have some whiskey," you reply with a shy unsure smile as your colleagues cheer.

The night somehow refuses to come to an end as you all soon find yourselves seated on the floor of Kate's apartment, in a circle. It starts off with some dancing and then Nitesh takes up the guitar and starts singing. He's a good singer, you can appreciate that and everyone's having fun with big smiles on their faces as they clap along with the beats. 

You have had three shots so far and for the love of god, you still feel that melancholy. It heightens when you realise you're sad in such a fun environment. Despite wanting to join them in their fun, your mind keeps wondering what it would be like if Taehyung were here. Gosh, it's been so long since the both of you have hung out and truthfully, it has never bothered you before. Whatever communication you two had was more than enough for you. Sharing the little details about your day, sending him silly stickers, all that held more meaning to you than he probably ever realised. That was much more intimate to you than anything physical.

You shake your head to yourself when you realise you're here being sad over a guy who wasn't even your boyfriend. It's so ridiculous. 

But then again, despite the lack of a label, you were loyal to him with your entirety.

Geez, the alcohol seemingly has made you more sensitive. 

"You sure are having fun," Shanaya comments. "I'm assuming the alcohol didn't help much?"

It doesn't take rocket science for someone to figure out that if a person who's never said yes to drinks before suddenly willingly says yes to them, there must be some pain they are trying to numb. 

"Surprisingly, no."

She hums. "Wanna talk about it?" 

Shanaya has asked this question to you multiple times over the span of the last few days. Never has it made you feel as if it's coming from a place where she is prying for details. It has only made you feel as if she's letting you know she's all ears, whenever you need her. Each time, you have shrugged as if it's not a big deal, as if it's not important enough for you to talk about. However, now, you really could do with a shoulder to cry on.

Hence, you vent and even amid all the noise and music, she intently listens to your words without interrupting even once. 

When you finish, she releases a heavy sigh. "That's what you meant when you said it was complicated."

You chuckle at the reminder of the response you had given to your then-new co-workers, to being asked about your love life. You were so cautious of hurting Taehyung, having no idea that it was going to be him, hurting you.

"Do you plan on being friends with him?" 

You don't miss the edge her tone has, as if she believes it's not worth it. Either that, or she thinks it's not possible to be friends with someone who's hurt you like that.

"I do," your reply is instantaneous. 

"Don't you feel angry?"

"I do," of course you are angry. It would be absurd if you were not. 

"Are you sure that is a good idea?"

You're not. You know the dynamic between you and Taehyung would never be the same again. Things would be different. You have now realised that things which meant a lot to you, perhaps never held the same meaning to him. The dynamic is bound to change. But is that good enough of a reason to cut your friendship off?

"He's only a human. People fall in love and sometimes, they fall out of love. I do not control the way he feels and when it comes to love, I don't think any of us have a control over who we fall for or when we fall," you release a sigh. Maybe it's all the more difficult for you because you still love him despite everything. "He's not in the wrong for falling for someone just because it's not me. I wish he would have not kept me in the dark but we all make mistakes, we all mess up."

"But more importantly, he's a friend first and he's always been an incredible friend to me. Now, I wouldn't be a good friend if I were to ever entertain the idea of making him choose between me and his happiness, would I?" 

She remains quiet for a moment, observing you closely. "Do you mean all that you said?"

You nod. 

She chuckles. "Well then, you have one of the purest hearts I have ever come across."

—--------------------------------------------------------

You were aware that there were unread texts from Taehyung but had refused to open them until morning. The night was exhausting and more than anything, you wanted to sleep. However, when morning came rolling, there was no avoiding opening his messages. 

Tae 🐻: why are you suddenly being so formal? 😂

Tae 🐻: it's completely fine.

Relief courses through your veins at his casual tone. You don't know how you'd have responded had he mentioned you blocking him seemingly out of nowhere. However, there's a small part of you that remains curious if he had even realised you blocked him. Nevertheless, you'd much rather put all of that behind you and move forward.

You: i was randomly scrolling through my phone and the next thing i knew, my phone was calling you 

Tae 🐻: lmao 

Tae 🐻: blame it on the phone, yes

You smile. Going back to being friends might not be that difficult. 

You two chat a bit and catch up with each other about things the both of you have been up to recently. You lose track of time as you make yourself a cup of tea, refusing to let your phone down, feeling excited at the thought of telling him about the things you have been up to. 

Tae 🐻: well i have something to tell you

You: uh oh

You: go on

Tae 🐻: so last day me and Bridget went on a date 

Tae 🐻: and things got steamy 👉👈

Tae 🐻: if you know what i mean

You very well know what he means.

Your stomach sinks in disappointment.

It's not because you're jealous or that the thought of Taehyung with someone else makes you feel disheartened, you have moved past that. Rather, you feel disappointed that he thought it was something appropriate to mention to you. 

Had it been anyone else in some other scenario, you'd have had no issue. Friends, close ones especially, tend to discuss these sorts of things, don't they? However, this is Taehyung and keeping the recent events in mind, he should not have mentioned it to you at all. Especially not when, his new relationship had made you feel as if he didn't bother to think of you, once. 

He keeps on going about how it was one of the best nights of his life but you don't find it in yourself to play pretend and entertain him. Although you don't directly ask him to stop, you don't reply to his texts either.

Tae 🐻: Y/N? 

The screen reads when he's done and probably upon the realisation that you haven't said anything for a long time. 

You: nice

Oh, how you wish technology was advanced enough for the text to be read aloud on his phone in a sarcastic tone.

You: let me tell you about yesterday

You: we went back to Kate's place 

You: and i got drunk simply because i was feeling low and sad and depressed and was looking for an escape 

You: but that didn't help, only enhanced what i was already feeling

You could have probably avoided saying this but then you wanted to say it. You don't know if he'll put two and two together but it's your own way of telling him that things are still sensitive.

Tae 🐻: you sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken 😂 

A loud laugh escapes your lips. Gosh, is this the guy you have been crying over for weeks? 

Wow.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Taehyung has let you down, as a friend. More than once. 

A few days back, he'd asked if he could send you a poem that he'd written. You had always known he liked writing stuff and hadn't thought much of it. However, upon asking what it was about, he had replied 'newfound love'. Your reply to which had been, 'In that case, I'm not interested'. 

You didn't care how that sounded, you were not gonna put up with this bullshit just because it would be impolite. 

With each passing day and with each small incident where you feel as if your feelings are totally disregarded, your disappointment keeps growing. You really had not expected this kind of behaviour from Taehyung. 

One of the main reasons you had fallen for him was the way he seemed so emotionally wise. He was aware and attentive towards the people around him and was always kind. His recent attitude contradicts all of that.

There is a part of you that also recognises how his recent behaviour has made you detached. You could not say that the Taehyung you fell in love with and the Taehyung now, are the same. In a very twisted way, it made accepting the fact that there's nothing between the two of you, except friendship much easier. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N

Tae 🐻: I messed up. 

The text comes at around one in the morning. The only reason you're awake is the report that's due in two days. But the incoming text puts your fingers to a pause as worry clouds your senses. 

Is he okay? 

You: what happened? 

Tae 🐻: i messed up 

Tae 🐻: i feel so embarrassed

You: can you stop being vague? 

Tae 🐻: i sent a vm to Bridget of me singing TS 

You couldn't help rolling your eyes when you read the words. Huh, you should have seen it coming. 

Unlike other times, for some odd reason, you find yourself leaning towards the idea of entertaining him. Perhaps it's because you haven't had a proper conversation with him for a long time. And also perhaps, because you know this won't go on for long. 

You: so?

Tae 🐻: she is a huge TS fan 

Tae 🐻: she asked me to sing one of her favourite songs

Tae 🐻: and i cannot ever bring myself to say no to her

Tae 🐻: but like now that i listen back to the audio i sound terrible and i maybe did a British accent while singing

Understandably, you can see where he's coming from. The nervousness that comes with making a gesture for someone you adore and then feeling embarrassed about it, worrying whether they found it romantic or did you make a fool of yourself. And less than one month of being in a relationship is not enough to quieten the nervous jitters. 

So, you tell him what you would have, had it been any other friend. Upon further chatting you realise he genuinely feels like crawling inside a hole and never coming out. It doesn't surprise you, Taehyung has always been like that, going for the big gestures and self-doubt creeping in later.

You let yourself enjoy the normalcy and pretend that Taehyung is just another friend of yours and that he isn't someone who broke your heart.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Your phone has been buzzing and pinging since morning. Midnight to be specific. Birthday wishes have been flowing in with notes and gifs and with each message you feel more appreciated than you feel the rest three sixty-four days of the year. 

However, with each notification sound, there has also been that hope and expectation that maybe this one would be from Taehyung.

He had texted you a few days back reminding you of your upcoming birthday and although it's afternoon already, you don't really believe that he has forgotten the day altogether. 

When evening rolls around, you start growing sceptic. You squirm in your sofa, finally acknowledging that it's very well a possibility that your birthday might have slipped his mind. It makes you go back to the long, seven-hundred-word, letter he had written for your birthday, last year. 

The words make you smile.

Do you know how amazing you are? I don't think you do and it will be my job to make you see that.

Sometimes, I think I don't deserve you with how kind and loving you are but I'm so incredibly grateful for you that no amount of words would ever be enough.

I have never met someone like you, ever. 

Only a few lines from the massive paragraph that his greeting text was and the corner of your lips lift up. However, the moment is broken when you realise you're smiling. 

You shake your head as sadness fills you. You cannot let yourself recall old memories and feel the way they used to make you. It's not an option anymore.

Locking your screen, you sigh. You won't lie, you had really wanted a text from him. Anything that would show you that he still cares for you and the friendship between the both of you still held a chance. It's no wonder that you have been seeking some sort of reassurance after everything that he has done. 

It's around eleven at night that Taehyung's name first appears on your notification bar. You grin wide and open your text, glad to have been proven wrong and feeling stupid to have considered the idea of him forgetting your birthday. 

A link to a YouTube video.

Your grin disappears just as quickly and disappointment like nothing you have ever felt before, makes its way to your heart. 

You leave him on seen.

A day passes and you wonder if he will send at least a belated wish, apologising for not wishing you any sooner. But nope 

It's the day after that, the second day past your birthday when you check for any messages from him and you are led to his stories. It's slides of pictures of him and Bridget and the caption is him singing praises of her and telling the world how much in love he is because it's her birthday. 

That's your last straw.

It's probably a very small issue, forgetting birthdays and all. But to you, it's not. It just adds up to the pile of things that have made you feel like you were the only one who was taking into consideration the friendship that was at stake.

Plus, it cannot be that difficult to remember your birthday when his girlfriend's birthday is literally two days after yours. 

You have had enough. You need to walk out of Taehyung's life.  

Considering all that had made you fall for Taehyung, it's incredibly hard for you to believe that he doesn't know what he is doing and that he has forgotten basic decency. The option that was left with you, didn't make sense to you either because it implied he let you down intentionally. But the Taehyung you knew would never hurt a fly. 

It made you wonder if it was simply a result of his honeymoon phase that he had forgotten to consider how his actions could hurt people. Maybe he was too elated to think things through.  The empathetic part of you understood. But then you shook that away, knowing very well that if you were in his position, irrespective of how happy and high you were, you would never do that. 

Maybe you had realised that this was coming from the very day, he hadn't thought twice before mentioning his intimate moments with Bridget. But, boy oh boy, had you hoped to be wrong.

You had given him opportunities to prove you wrong, to give you a reason to stay but he only kept giving you reasons as to why you should leave.

It's an odd sensation that washes over you when you come to the conclusion that this isn't worth it anymore. 

You feel sad that the friendship is coming to an end. You're sure you'd miss his company and that there would be days when you mourn the friendship that once used to be. You know there would be times when you'd resent him and there would also be times when you'd feel angry at yourself for giving so much of you to him. 

But you won't ever regret your choice of leaving him. 

One thing this whole ordeal with Taehyung has made you realise is how deeply you love. How even in the midst of hurt, you were happy for him and how you saw and loved him for what he was and not for what he could be or for what he offered you. It made you take pride in the way you love. You gave him the purest form of love. 

A life where you and Taehyung are not friends, won't be your loss. It would be his. Irrespective of whether he realises that or not.

You feel oddly poweful with the knowledge that there was nothing lacking in your love and you'd never dishonour your love by staying where it isn't valued, appreciated and seen. 

But you also have a lot to say to him. You are not going to just block him and let him wonder why you did that. No, you'd tell him exactly why you left. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It took you a couple of days to get down everything you wanted to say. There were times when you felt conscious of the ever-growing length of your letter and you had to shake off that feeling because this was going to be the last interaction between the both of you. Why stop yourself from saying everything you want to just because you're worried it'll be lengthy? 

You read the words one last time, wanting to make sure that you feel satisfied. 

Hello Taehyung, 

I hope you're doing fine. I wouldn't know how you're doing because we haven't had a proper conversation in quite some time. Or at least that is how it has felt to me. Nevertheless, I'm writing this because there's loads that I need to get off my chest. So, here we go.

When I saw you for the first time and we talked, I could feel you carried a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Almost like, you had something to prove, like you wanted to show that you weren't what you were perceived to be. Or maybe you wanted to prove that you were more than just what meets the eye. I didn't know what in particular. It felt like you wanted to be seen. 

And would you believe, I grew a soft spot for you? Do you know why? Because somewhere, I felt the same way too. 

I also knew we would be great friends, lol. You know how? Because I knew you had a heart of gold. You cared for others, you were thoughtful and kind. However, I could feel that you have a habit of being harsh on yourself and it didn't sit well with me. From the very first time we talked, I wanted to be a good friend to you, someone you could rely on, someone you could trust and someone who could possibly make you be a little less harsh on yourself. 

Perhaps with the weak spot, I also grew protective of you.

You were desperate for love and at the same time felt unworthy of it. I didn't know why though. I didn't know what had you believing so lowly about yourself. But then you told me about Kira, and it all made sense. 

It made sense why you felt unworthy and why you felt the need to prove that you were more than what others saw. Because, you believed Kira's words. You really thought you were unlovable. 

Instead of feeling the satisfaction of  being proved right, I felt so angry at Kira. I may have clawed her eyes out in my mind more than once. 

After learning the scars that she left on you, it only made me wish you could see yourself the way I do. I wished you could see that there was nothing you had to do to be loved except for just being you.

You may wonder why I'm suddenly saying all this. Well, let's just say it's necessary.

When you told me you were falling for me, I was surprised but then I felt myself feeling so warm at the thought of you liking me. It took me a few minutes to realise that I was falling for you too. 

But that was it. 

We never put a label on what we were and I was okay with it. Because I was okay with what we had, I never asked for anything because you were happy. You were also such a great friend, someone who I could talk to anything and everything about. What more could I ask for?

What's more? I could tell you were slowly coming out of whatever shell you were put in by Kira. I can't quite explain how it made me feel to see you smile more freely, to see you be more confident and be sure of yourself. But to put it lightly, it made me feel damn good lol.

I knew I had some part to play in it. I just didn't know that was the only part you wanted me to play. 

I moved past all that, trust me. You using my love as a rebound, making a girlfriend without even letting me know once, I moved past all that. Because, I trusted you when you told me you were confused and confusion is never intentional, is it? 

It hurt like a bitch to think that was all my love meant to you. But it was okay, you didn't mean to hurt me. You cared about me. You cared about our friendship. You valued it. 

Or so you said. 

I don't know if you meant it when you said it. But in case you did mean it, here are a few things not to do to the girl you used as a rebound and intend to keep the friendship with.

First, do not mention that you had sex with your new girlfriend. 

Second, do not be dumb enough to say "You sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken" when you are the guy who's caused the damage. 

Third, do not send her the song you sang for your girlfriend and seek comfort to soothe the embarrassment you feel.

Fourth, do not ask her to read the poems you wrote for your girlfriend.

Fifth, do not forget her birthday when your girlfriend's is just two days later. 

These things didn't hurt me as much as it disappointed me. Would you believe, I laughed when you called me a typical heartbroken guy? When I got drunk the day before, my head was filled with thoughts of you and my heart was heavy with the knowledge that I was only a rebound. That day, even in the midst of alcohol, I chose our friendship over everything. I chose to forgive you. I chose to love you, still. But when you mentioned what you did, I just found it so funny to think that this was the guy I was thinking so much about and was so sad about. 

As it turns out, I'm not much fond of thoughtless people. 

But still, I hoped that somehow you'd give me a reason to stay. All you did, however, was turn a blind eye to my feelings and disrespected me.

If you were to ask me, whether my love for you is romantic or platonic, I wouldn't be able to tell. I have never sat and thought about it. All I know is I loved you, in one of the most unselfish ways possible. 

But that's not to say I don't realise how I deserve to be treated. And that's not to say that I'd stay somewhere where I'm an afterthought. 

When I said, I was happy for you and Bridget I really meant it and I hope you don't think that your relationship ever had a role to play in this decision of mine. It didn't, it was solely you that made me choose this option.

But this friendship of ours has run its course.

I would never disrespect myself by putting up with your disrespect. I loved you as long as you were worth it. But the moment you took my love for granted was the very moment you lost my respect and love, both. 

If you have made it to the end, then congrats! I didn't know if you'd read the whole thing but truth be told I don't particularly care about you reading it either. I wrote this for myself, not for you. 

Before I finish this long-ass letter, let me tell you something; you have lost one of the best people you'd ever meet in this lifetime. 

Thank you,

With Love,

The purest form.

Jeon Jungkook

His words echo in your mind and after an elongated pause, you find it in yourself to respond. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook gulps, hating how controlled your facial expressions are. In the months of knowing you, he has never seen you try this hard to hide your emotions. “Me and Niki are not actually a couple.”

“Thank you for rephrasing the sentence but I am afraid that it does not make things any clearer for me.”

Jungkook takes a sharp inhale and meets your eyes with uncertainty. “It’s just a PR stunt.”

It takes a few moments for the words to register but when they do, things start making sense, almost like puzzle pieces falling in place.

Namjoon’s hesitance in answering your question about the truth of their relationship. His lack of shock to the words you had heard Niki speak and most importantly, why Niki might have said those words. The whole relationship is not real to begin with.

“But, why?” The words leave your lips without your permission, before you’re able to catch them.

For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if it’s his place to say a few of the things he will have to, to make things clear.  But then he shakes off the worry, knowing Niki won’t mind.

“Both of our fandom, for some reason, ship us together. You know the whole ‘both are maknaes’ thing. Nevertheless, both of our companies thought it would be mutually beneficial for the two of us to put up this false act that we are dating.”

“How is it supposed to be mutually beneficial?” It doesn’t make sense to you. One of the oddest and most toxic traits of the kpop industry is how idols are expected to be loyal to their fans by remaining single. How then, a public relationship is supposed to garner anything except for unnecessary attention and hate?

“Niki is well, dating a youtuber. A female youtuber and pictures of them hanging out together didn’t take long to make it to the internet. Although at the beginning, everyone thought they were just good friends, soon there were questions as to whether it was just a simple friendship and well, people were not really happy with that idea,” he sighs, feeling tired just from thinking about everything that had led to this whole ordeal. “It wasn’t only about Niki dating a girl, it was also about her dating someone that wasn’t me. And of course, it was her girlfriend’s fault for coming between two people who are 'meant to be'. All of which ultimately made it incredibly difficult for the two of them to be at peace.”

You can imagine. The thought makes you sympathise with both of them. From Jungkook's words, it's clear the target was Niki’s girlfriend but you are sure it couldn’t have been easy for Niki to watch someone she loves hurt like that.

You understand Niki’s part of the deal. Putting up this font, would stop the threats and hate aimed at them but what was Jungkook supposed to get from this?

Jungkook looks at you and nods, acknowledging the unasked question. "When the offer first came, our company had turned it down, not seeing how it could benefit me. But I was the one who insisted and agreed."

"Why?" 

His discomfort grows and he swallows nervously, trying to gather his thoughts. "People are obsessed with me and Niki to the point where it's very predictable that they would hate it if someday I were to date someone who isn't her. I thought it would be good if we did this thing and people believed that we gave it a shot but it didn't work out. That way it would be one less thing I'd have to worry about while dating someone."

You put the thought behind of how it seems incredibly far-fetched and nod. He has answered your question about the nature of their relationship and why it was necessary. However, you still have a bunch of questions about a lot of things–starting with how crushed you felt when he moved you as Namjoon's make-up artist out of nowhere–but you do not wish to let them see the light of the day. 

Turning away, you start shuffling with some of the make-up products, indicating that the conversation is done. 

"Please say something," Jungkook pleads, tormented by your silence. 

"There's nothing more to say," you mutter, keeping away any emotion from being shown. 

"That can't be true."

You hate how sure he sounds. As if he is aware of every thought that's running in your head. As if he knows you a little too well. You absolutely despise how you might have believed the notion, once. Now, however, you do not want to. Because that'd mean he knew exactly how much hurt, his ignorance and pretence as if you don't even exist, caused you. 

"Y/N, please. We haven't talked for a long time. Please don't shut me out." 

Technically, you have two options. One, to keep ignoring him. Two, to snap at him and let every bit of your anger out. You had initially planned on sticking to option number one as it would make you look just as indifferent as Jungkook. However, now you find the option of letting words out without a filter, very appealing. 

"I know, I messed up but just talk to me–" the sound of a shaky exhale meets your ears, "–I miss spending time with you."

Well, that's some audacity. 

In the blink of an eye, you're facing Jungkook and taking several steps in his direction. You stop only a few steps away from him but you're close enough for him to notice the agony and pure rage storming through your eyes. 

"You better shut your mouth, Jeon." 

Jungkook flinches at your warning tone. However, he refuses to take the hint. "Y/N, ignoring me isn't going to solve–"

"Trust me, I'm not trying to solve anything," you speak through gritted teeth. "I'm just doing what I think is the right thing to do after someone disrespects you immensely."

"I wasn't trying to disrespect you," he claims, desperately trying to make you believe in something you don't buy for even a second.

"Yeah, ghosting me out of nowhere is not disrespecting me at all," your voice drops with sarcasm 

He feels his heart drop when you use the word 'ghosting'. Did you think that's what he did? Is that what it looked like? Gosh, this has all gotten messed up and he's the one to be blamed.

"I didn't ghost you," he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes and the sight of it causes all the pain that you had buried, to come to the surface. 

"Then please explain what it was," you voice waivers and you immediately hate yourself for showing weakness. "Please tell me what you thought you were doing by replacing me without even showing the basic decency to inform me that, yourself?"

He gulps, wondering if you'd even believe what he has to say. Even if you do, would you be willing to look past his stupidity?

"I found your note in my bag", you visibly flinch at the mention of the note. You had intentionally kept from mentioning your little confession, praying to whatever god is out there that somehow the note had been damaged before it reached the hands of the person they were meant to find. 

Jungkook notices your change of expression as it turns from hurt to embarrassed to anger and he despises himself for making you feel like that. "I had to make a quick decision and I didn't think you'd like to be my make up artist while I was fake dating Niki, especially without you having any knowledge about the fake part."

You stare at him blankly and try to process what he was saying. Did he–did he think he was doing you a favour by cutting you off?

You scoff, turn around and start packing your things with the intention of leaving the room. You're so done with this conversation.

When Jungkook understands your intention, he's quick on his feet and rushes to be right next to you. "Just give me the chance to explain myself fully."

You don't reply, your insides fuming.

"Y/N please," he begs. "Just hear me out once. Then I'll accept whatever it is that you decide for the both of us."

"I'm not gonna stand here and hear you speak utter bullshit that does nothing but let me down further."

Your voice comes with such a sense of finality that Jungkook knows, no matter how much he begs and pleads, you won't be giving him the opportunity to speak his side of things. 

Hence, he doesn't stop you when you walk past him and leave the room. But it only makes him more desperate for the day when you finally find it in your heart to give him a chance. Just one.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jungkook has been persistent. Perhaps a little too persistent with his attempts to earn your forgiveness. Or at least that's what you assume the bouquets of flowers and little notes you find everyday at work are for. 

It's not only the flowers, it's also his constant texting and voicemails. His texts vary from a simple 'hi, what are you doing' to 'please, i miss you' and his voicemails have been a mix of him telling you about his day (something he used to do regularly when you were his makeup artist) to a more emotional version of his texts begging you to talk to him. 

You won't lie, his incessant pleadings have made you curious what more could he possibly have to say. What could be so different from what he has already said that he is so desperate? 

On one hand, you find an odd sense of satisfaction from not responding to Jungkook despite all his efforts. You don't know what that makes you but after the hurt and embarrassment you felt to the point where you had to numb yourself to block those emotions out, his tries and attempts feel like an ointment to your wounds. On the other hand, however, is a voice nagging you as to how, this cannot go on for long. The huge bouquets that wait for you everyday are soon going to catch attention and if anyone were to catch a hint of who it is from…gosh, you don't want to imagine that.

But when you will find it in yourself to have a conversation with him, still remains unknown. All you know is whenever that will be, it will be solely because you don't want word to go out. Yes, that's all it will be. 

Today when you walk into Namjoon's dressing room, there's another bouquet waiting for you. The sight of it causes you to sigh. You don't know what Namjoon thinks of this but you're thankful that he hasn't mentioned it yet. That however, made it quite clear that he has some idea as to who they are from.

You let the flowers be where they are. You have never really taken them home or put them in water, afraid that it would be interpreted as you being accepting of his efforts, when you're far from it. You're still hurt and angry. 

If anything, sometimes you despise walking into a room full of flowers as they serve as a reminder of the thoughts you had before confessing to him. You remember thinking how confessing felt like putting a delicate unbloomed flower in someone's hand and whether the bud gets to bloom or not, depends on the person you're confessing to. 

If only you had known of the thorns you would be exposed to, back then, you'd never have confessed. 

The door swings open softly and Namjoon walks in. "Good morning, Y/N."

"Good morning," you greet him back with a smile. 

"So what's on card for today?" He asks before taking his usual seat. 

"There's nothing much for today, just rehearsals and then you have a v-live," you mumble. "But firstly I need to do your weekly facial."

He huffs. "Is it the one that requires you putting a lot of slimy stuff on my face and it stays on for like thirty minutes?" 

"Yep," you reply with a light laugh. Despite what he says, you have learnt that Namjoon quite enjoys his facial sessions. Unlike a certain someone. 

Your smile falters and your sudden change of mood doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. 

"Have you considered speaking to Jungkook?" He asks after a brief moment of silence. 

You're taken aback by his words. Namjoon has always avoided speaking on the matter. He has never even queried as to what you do with the flowers. Hence, his direct way of questioning has you fumbling with words. 

"I d–haven't," you change your wording, fearing 'I don't want to', might just be a little too rude. 

However, your choice of answer is put to vain with the very next question he asks. "Do you want to?" 

"I don't want to," you softly shake your head, mildly afraid how Namjoon will interpret it.

He simply nods, without any trace of judgement. "I'm not saying this because I'm picking sides, but I have known Jungkook since he was a kid and I can tell that he really is sorry. 

"Whether to forgive him or not, is completely on you. But put a little trust on him that he must have some reason behind doing what he did. Just hear him out once."

You keep quiet, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Namjoon understands that and soon changes the topic of conversation to something more light-hearted. 

Hours later, when everything comes to a close and it's time for you to leave, you find yourself hesitating. Namjoon's words simply refuse to leave your mind. Put a little trust in him. How can you, when he's let you down in every way possible? When he has betrayed your trust in ways that still keep hurting you? 

You gulp when you realise there's probably no end to the hurting until you have a chat with Jungkook and hear his side. At least, that way you will know his reasoning behind everything and it will hopefully stop your self loathing for putting the note in his bag. Even if all he gives is excuses, you'd at least have the satisfaction of having heard him out. Later maybe a week, or a month from now, when your emotions subside, you wouldn't have this unscratched itch of not knowing what he had to say. 

Maybe, maybe it's for the best that you talk to him.

—-----------------------------------------------------

"Come in," Jungkook calls out in response to the knock at his door and is visibly surprised when you walk in. He quickly gets up from his seat, stuffs his phone in his pocket and with a nervous voice asks, "would you like some coffee?"

You shake your head. You're not here for coffee. "No, thank you. I'm here to talk to you."

He nods as his nervousness spikes. This is what he has wanted and hoped for so long, but now that you're here, he doubts you will believe him. What if you don't? Even worse, what if you do and still don't forgive him?

The both of you get seated and your fingers anxiously play with the strap of your handbag. "What is it that you have been wanting to tell me?"

Jungkook sighs. Pushing the nervousness away, he knows that the only thing in his power is to tell you his side of things. Otherwise, he's powerless. 

"For the things I said last day, to make sense, I would have to mention that I like you," he cannot find it in himself to look at you as he says that. "I've liked you for a long time."

The words take you by surprise, and your mouth parts in shock. The shock then morphs into disbelief and denial. He did not just confess to liking you.

"But it's never that simple when you're a famous K-pop idol," something bitter coats his words and he looks defeated. "The consequences of dating me, is something that one doesn't realise until they face it for themselves."

Jungkook has grown a thick skin. But you? He doesn't want you to be someone who ever has to go through things that require you to build a thick skin. He doubts he will ever forgive himself if he were to see you beaten up by harsh words and constant criticism, all because of your association to him.

"I wanted to tell you how I felt but just the sheer terror of what you may have to go through, kept me from doing so," an unwanted shiver runs through his body when he recalls the moments where the fluttering in his chest would always be accompanied by a heavy sinking in his stomach. "It wasn't my choice to stress about these things but I couldn't help myself considering that associating with me had consequences."

Your face falls with each word that leaves his lips. 

"It was choosing between giving into my feelings and listening to logic. I tried to be logical and practical for as long as I could. Until, I just couldn't," a humourless chuckle escapes his lips. "I remember thinking that I just need to tell you how you make me feel."

He doesn't voice how there was a part of him that had wished you'd not reciprocate his feelings. That way, even after his sheer selfishness, things would be fine. 

"It was around the time I decided on confessing to you, that I learnt about the proposition from Niki's agency. Call me incredibly stupid but I thought if I did this, I'd at least do something instead of sitting and dreading with my hands tied." Jungkook shakes his head, finding it cruel that even after all this, he somehow managed to mess everything up. 

Your mouth parts unknowingly when the pieces click. Jungkook's decision to date Niki for the cameras, didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't as far-fetched as you thought. His decision had come from a place of anxiety where he felt powerless. 

"But then I found that note," he cannot help but recall that day fondly. He felt like a kid and often found himself smiling, looking into the mirror. However, that joy was soon wiped off when the situation sank in. "I was so excited and happy, but then I realised that I had already agreed to date Niki."

You hardly blink as Jungkook speaks and due to that, you don't miss the way a smile appears on his lips. But it's gone as soon as it appears, as if he catches himself slipping and reprimands himself for it. It makes you consider the possibility if he was receptive to your confession in a positive way. 

"I didn't know what to do, I couldn't imagine letting you know that I felt the same but then going out and holding another woman's hand. Even if it's for the cameras, it's–," he closes his eyes shut as if pained, "–it's horrible."

"I couldn't do that but I also needed to make a quick decision. I thought the only way to go about things was to postpone answering your confession. After the announcement of the breakup with Niki, I thought I could talk to you then and clear things out. At that moment, that was the only option that made sense to me."

His words take you back to the day when you were filled with nervous excitement only for it to be replaced with dread and heartbreak when you learnt that Jungkook had replaced you as his makeup artist, just like that. 

"It was stupid, I know," he mutters in a small voice. "I don't have anything to say in my defence except for admitting that I messed things up and I didn't realise what it must have looked like to you, until it was too late." 

He paused for a few moments, looking exhausted. "I-I am sorry for everything. I know it's hard to believe but hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do. I really just wanted to make things right. If you can, please, forgive me."

You sense that to be the end of everything Jungkook had to say. The way he looks at the floor and refuses to look at you, makes you want to comfort him. But your feelings are too muddled, you're too confused and there's a lot that you have learnt that has left you surprised. You don't think you're in the state of mind to make decisions now. 

"Thank you for telling me everything," you keep your voice soft. It gives Jungkook the courage to finally look up at you and his breath hitches when he realises you aren't looking at him with your gaze filled with hate and pain. It gives him hope. "But I need some time to process everything." 

Jungkook nods, knowing that's the best he can ask for at the moment. He's relieved that you aren't dismissing his words and feels incredibly grateful that you are taking time to think things through. He knows that you taking time is more for yourself than for him, but there's a hint of a promise that this is not the end of the conversation, that you'll talk to him again. And that's more than anything Jungkook can ever ask for.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The last few days, your mind has been completely occupied with Jungkook's words. Not only his words but also the way he looked refuses to leave your mind. You couldn't find it in yourself to doubt his genuineness and the fact that he was feeling terrible, was displayed in green neon lights. 

You had to remind yourself repeatedly that it isn't only about how he feels. You should cater to your feelings and figure out what to do next. 

There was also the new revelation that Jungkook liked you. Quite honestly, you didn't know what to do with that information. The whole conversation was melancholic and it must have rubbed off on you for you didn't feel the joy one usually does on learning that their crush likes them back. 

Everything was quite confusing. So much so, that it had taken an entirety of five days for you to sort out your thoughts and approach Jungkook. 

He sits across from you in a pale blue shirt and black trousers, his body language screams that he's nervous and oddly enough it comforts you to know that you aren't the only one feeling that way. 

"After learning everything, I couldn't help but wish you had communicated before. It would have saved the both of us a lot of hurt," you begin with a sombre tone, feeling your heart hurt at the constant overthinking you have had to go through. "Things might have been simpler that way." 

"I know," Jungkook nods, not having a single word to defend himself with. 

You look at him a moment longer wondering if he would try providing  you with a reason for his lack of communication. When he doesn't, you're confused how you're supposed to perceive it. 

On one hand, you'd have liked for him to actually have a proper reason. On the other, you're sure Jungkook is aware of his mistakes and his lack of response somehow gives the impression that he's owning up to everything without making excuses. 

"But what's done is done and there's no changing it," you continue after a small sigh. "It's for the best that we move on from it."

Jungkook's heart shrinks. By moving on do you mean just never acknowledging the feelings you both share for each other? That's exactly what comes to his mind because you feeling the same way you did, despite the hurt he has caused you, sounds too good to be true. He cannot be shameless either to ask you about it directly. He will take whatever you will give him. 

Instead, he asks a question which he knows would eat him alive if he doesn't voice it. "Can you forgive me?" 

"I wouldn't have asked for the both of us to move on, if I hadn't already," and then you do something that makes Jungkook feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off from his chest. You smile at him.

Forgiving Jungkook wasn't easy. You wanted to hold on to the anger because your pride was hurt and most importantly, you were scared of getting hurt again. But then you also had to think through things logically. 

Jungkook has never had it easy with fame. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the way he has always been under scrutiny and his sudden loss of control over his own life. With time, he learnt that it was for the best to not pay attention to the people who weren't even familiar with him. 

He could overlook and turn deaf to the hate that's thrown his way. However, his loved ones being targeted is something that fills him with guilt to an inexplicable amount. You have seen it yourself. 

The incident isn't that old. A year back, Jungkook had gone out with a bunch of his childhood friends. He was pictured closing the car door for one of them, who so happened to be a girl. That one single shot was enough for the media and internet to decide there must be something more than platonic going between the two. 

You remember the way Jungkook was so troubled and absolutely heartbroken with the hate and threats that were aimed at his friend, for something so simple and it was visible to everyone that he blamed himself for it.

You cannot imagine what kind of stones would be thrown at you if word got out. The information that you're his makeup artist would be a cherry on top. Gold digger, witch, slut, whore; some of the less colourful terms. 

Seeing the way Jungkook suffered, it made sense why he would be so scared to be open about his feelings. You could imagine yourself feeling the same way had it been you being in his place. Seeing someone you care for, getting hate that they absolutely don't deserve, is painful enough for one to believe that it's for the best to keep distance. 

You also imagined what you would have felt had Jungkook admitted his feelings and had told you about the fake dating. Yes, you'd have the knowledge that there was nothing real between him and Niki. However, you'd also have to see them all over the internet and watch people go on and on about how perfect they are. You'd be aware that Jungkook likes you, but you'd also be bitter about how the beginning of your relationship is marked with him publicly dating someone else. It's not exactly a nice feeling. 

One could argue that the way events have turned out, they aren't perfect either. But there's nothing going on between Jungkook and you. At least, not yet. 

That's one thing that you both need to talk about and you really want to clear out everything, at once. Who knows what miscommunication would occur if things were left unsaid, again? 

"I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N,"Jungkook squirms a little in his seat, ignoring the absence of the weight that has been eating him alive for days. He thinks you're going easy on him and he thinks he doesn't deserve it. 

"I am choosing to trust your words," you reply, having a sense of the turmoil Jungkook seems to be going through. The fact that he is always hard on himself is not unknown to you. "All I ask from you is to not break my trust. And for you to accept that you do not have to burden yourself with responsibilities."

Jungkook knows it's hard for him to not feel like there's always a bunch of responsibilities on his shoulder. Especially when one moment of misjudgement can cause irreversible damage. Despite that, he feels a sense of warmth spread throughout his body at your words. 

"I'll try."

You shoot Jungkook another smile; the second one this evening and he can't help but think that you should really stop giving him hope.

"There's one more thing that we need to talk about," your cheeks turn red and much like Jungkook earlier, it's your turn to squirm in your seat. "You said something about liking me."

You feel awkward at the choice of your words but then you aren't brave enough to start by mentioning your note of confession. 

Jungkook's eyes turn as wide as saucers and his whole face flushes to match the shade of your cheeks. He really wasn't expecting for you to bring it up. "Umm yeah," he nods. 

You feel a spark of impatience and annoyance at his short response. You took it upon yourself to bring the topic to the table and he cannot just spill everything, already? Why make it more difficult for you? 

"Yeah…..so?" You look at him with your brows raised, trying your best to ignore the way you feel like a three year old shy girl, on the inside. 

"I–I do like you," he stutters and looks away, for the umpteenth time, unable to meet your eyes. 

Your heart takes a fucking long jump. Who would have thought Jeon Jungkook would be so shy about admitting his feelings? 

"What should we do about it?" You intentionally use the 'we' for Jungkook to catch the hint that you want to do something about it. 

But of course, he doesn't. 

He speaks sullenly, "I have lost the right to have a say in the matter." 

"I want you to have a say in the matter. Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want?" You refuse to let go of the conversation and for Jungkook to let his guilt swallow him. He messed up, there's no denying that. But you could always acknowledge the fact that his heart was in the right place. 

Feelings of frustration makes his throat clogged up . "I just want to go back and redo things in a different way."

"That's not possible. What do you want to do now?"

He knows what he wants but voicing it, feels being ungrateful towards your forgiveness. It feels like he's being greedy. "What I do want, feels like too much to ask for."

"You'll never know until you ask for it." 

He sighs and reminds himself that you're asking him about the romantic feelings he has admitted to harbouring towards you. He reminds himself to not be selfish and make it about his guilt. If you want to know, he will tell you and he will be honest about it. 

"I want to be with you," his admission is made in a small voice but it doesn't hide the clarity his words have. 

Your breath hitches and you feel the soft pitter patter of your heart that you had missed when he admitted his feelings for you the first time around. 

"When does this fake relationship of yours end?" 

"A month from now."

You nod. "A month from now, take me out on a date and we will see."

Jungkook's eyes snap to yours, not having expected you to speak those words. You shoot him a small smile before getting up and leaving the room. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

SIX MONTHS LATER

"I swear to god, if you don't stay still, I'll intentionally ruin your makeup."

Your threatening low tone goes in through one ear and comes out of the other. "You could never do that."

"Don't test my limits."

A pout makes its appearance. "But that's my favourite thing to do."

You sigh in both astonishment and in love. 

How do you manage to repeat the same routine with the same man everyday and never get tired of it? Maybe it has everything to do with the way your heart keeps stuttering around this man.

No, the man sitting in front of you, is not the global superstar Jeon Jungkook. 

The man sitting in front of you is your boyfriend, Jungkook. 

The official tag on your relationship was put four months ago, after a month of going out on dates. When you say going out, you mean staying in the hybe building and arranging dates in as innovative a way as one can. 

The month in which Jungkook had to pretend to be Nikki's boyfriend only proved to you why it would have been difficult for you had you and Jungkook actually been a thing at the time. It was already painful and as petty and irrational as it may sound, it also made you jealous when you would see articles of the two of them. You're not quite sure how humilated you would have felt if you two were to be dating at the time and to see people comment on how they are a match made in heaven.

That one month, for Jungkook, was a mix of everything. The beginning of the month came with constant doubts and shame where he wondered what he should do when the month is up. He wanted you but he didn't really think he deserved you. But then he had to make up his mind; he made a mistake and he always acknowledged that but it would be so incredibly foolish if he were to let that stop him from being with you. After a week or so, he had made up his mind. He messed up, but boy if he wasn't going to make up for it.  

That whole month was spent with him brainstorming ideas on how he can show his sincerity and be a better man. Somewhere along the line, he had opened up to Niki about it and there's just a hundred percent chance that if he's smiling wide in one of those paparazzi pictures, he's talking about you.

Jungkook has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Any hurt or doubt was washed away soon after the both of you started going out. Being with Jungkook was so much more than you could have ever imagined. 

A month after being together, you were back as Jungkook's make-up artist. It was the best way to go about it as it would keep the both of you away from suspicious eyes and give the both of you ample amount of time to spend with each other. 

You both are aware that at some point, you'd have to inform the agency of the nature of your relationship as that'd be better than them finding it out from other sources. You're not quite sure what would be left of your job, but Jungkook seems quite sure that you won't be fired and that the members together, would somehow manage the higher authorities to make their rules more flexible. 

Jungkook isn't worried about the consequences with hybe, but he still finds himself stressing about the day the news becomes public. That is where you reassure him, that whatever happens, you both will get through it, together. You also remind him to not fret about it too much, because there's a long way to go before things are made public. For the time being, it's just the two of you. 

"No wait, that's actually my second favourite thing," Jungkook corrects himself. "My top favourite might just be kissing you."

You fight the blush trying to make an appearance and ask, "might?"

"The last time you kissed me was ten minutes ago. Forgive me for forgetting what it was like to be kissed by you."

As cute and adorable as Jeon Jungkook might be in front of the cameras, you have recently learned that he's just as sly and playful when he wants to be. 

"Will you stay still if I kiss you?" 

"Kiss me first and then you shall have your answer." 

So you do. 

Your soft lips are welcomed eagerly by his and they move against each other, tenderly without a hint of rush. Your breaths mingle and soft sighs escape as your hands get tangled in his hair. 

When you part, there's only a hair's gap between the two of you, "So what's the verdict?" 

Jungkook's doe eyes appear dazed as he looks at you. "Well my brain has turned into a mush, so you can totally expect me to stay still."

You giggle and the sound of it warms Jungkook's heart like nothing ever has. 

------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: i was so anxious about making this so long especially the Taehyung part but then the Taehyung part is something that happened to me irl, so i also just wanted it to be as real as possible. For Jimin, it just didn't feel right for the reader to agree to go out or be with Jimin without him earning it. But then, it also didn't quite fit in this reaction thing, if that makes sense? If y'all want some good ol' grovelling from this Jimin in a one-shot i will see what I can come up with 😉.

That being said, let me know what you thought of this! (This really was a lot of work, so your words would be greatest source of encouragement and achievement for me). Also, if you like my work and wish to have access to all my works before anyone else, here's my patreon!

Hope you enjoyed reading this!

[clairomatt]

introducing … sweetheart!reader & fb!chris ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

౨ sweetheart!reader ৎ

extrovert around the right people. “does it come in pink?” cinnamoroll + miffy. laufey. no set face claim. psych major. gold jewellery. definitely a cat person !!!! “who cares if i’m pretty if i fail my final?” - rory gilmore.

♱ fuckboy!chris ♱

dealer. “quit lookin’ at me like that.” carti + travis . . . lowkey likes sh!reader’s music, but would never admit to that. commitment issues. backwards hats. can roll with his eyes closed. “coming down is all i ever do, babe.” - chase atlantic

how they met . . .

it was two weeks after the start of the school year, the campus still buzzed with that autumn semester excitement. chris however, was hungover. and pissed. a frat member was late on another payment, which he desperately needed. despite his bad mood, needing to keep up his grades, he was heading across campus for his ‘intro to economics’ class.

his mind wandered, ‘MY EYES’ by travis scott blasting in his airpods, making chris forget about his desire to punch that frat kid in the face. for now.

unfortunately, in his music filled daze, chris had forgotten to look where he was going. suddenly he had body slammed into a girl, who was carrying a pile of five or six hardback books. ‘great.’ he thought, ‘this day just can’t get any worse.’

“shit!” the girl hissed under her breath, scrambling to pick up her books. “i’m so sorry— my bad. i wasn’t looking.” she half laughed, trying to break the ice.

chris was about to ignore her and put his airpods back in, when the girl looked up at him. smiling. the kind of smile you give someone after knowing them for years, the kind of smile you know is genuine.

“—uh…” he spoke, clearing his throat. “yeah…don’t worry ‘bout it”

she stood up, books in hand, brushing herself off and pulling down the denim mini skirt she was wearing. she gave him another sweet smile.

“econ, huh?” she said, looking down at the books chris was carrying with a grin. “i have jones for econ. he’s a pain in the ass, he always tries to…” chris zoned out as the girl infront of him blabbered on. what the hell was happening?

he wasn’t used this. talking. usually with girls, they’d fuck and he’d leave, simple. but this girl was acting as if she didn’t know him or his reputation at all. maybe she didn’t?

something about her intrigued chris, the way she didn’t immediately try to suck up to him and act like the other girls that clung to him after seconds of knowing him.

walking towards his class, he wondered if he would see her again.

AN:

my first AU omgomg !! already have lots of fics lined up for these babies. so excited to share them with u🤍 - emmy

[cupidcures]

When Tulips Kiss | Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

CHAPTERS: 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-SEVEN | TWENTY-EIGHT | 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-NINE

WORD COUNT: 4.3k (not proofread)

CONTAINS: talks about sex (they don’t actually have sex haha.. this is my sfw blog not my nsfw blog), profanity, a little violence

nothing has changed

“Ayen I’m nervous as fuck dude,” Hyunjin whispered nervously and wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans.

Ew.

“You’ll be fine! Just be yourself, you’ve got this.” Ayen encouraged from the other side of the phone, “Don’t worry, or else you’ll be tense and awkward, you’ll do great. I gotta go now, I’m still on live. Good luck dude!” And with that, Hyunjin’s phone beeped a few times before turning off, leaving him to just sigh and shove it into his pocket.

Exiting the vehicle, he sits on the hood of his car and waits for you to come out from the building, and soon enough, you do.

There you were, stepping outside in all your glory. You were stunning, he would be a fool to ever deny you of that fact.

“Hey, you look beautiful.” Hyunjin greeted you and hopped off the hood, approaching your figure with a small smile plastered on his face.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” You smiled back at the boy as he walked you to your side of the car, not letting you lift a single finger and doing everything for you.

“I was thinking of bringing you to one of my favorite bakeries, it belongs to my friend, too.” He mentioned and got into his seat, turning the engine of the car on and reversing to pull out of the parking spot.

“Really? Which friend is it?” You questioned in curiosity. “Do I know them?”

“Yeah, you do. It’s Felix! He runs a bakery-library fusion with his sister and they’re both insanely talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up making chains so there’s more than one location to their bakery.” Hyunjin praised them and leaned back in his seat, one hand placed on the steering wheel and the other rested on the middle armrest.

“Thanks for agreeing to hang out with me today, by the way. It was last minute too.” He laughed tensely, but all you did was shake your head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! I’d take any chance I get to leave my dorm, to be honest. I try my best to not be as much of a homebody as I was before. I’d like to think that I’m improving!” You grinned proudly and thought back to the days when you would reject every outing to go out because you didn’t want to leave the comfort of your own home. You shuddered.

No wonder why you were so prone to gloominess back then.

“Yeah, you are. I’m proud. You used to hate going out on consecutive days and now you do it almost every day.”

“I was so boring back then.”

“Don’t say that, you were perfect. You still are.” Hyunjin coughed and cleared his throat awkwardly as you blushed at his statement.

If somebody asked you three weeks ago if you would ever see yourself hanging out one-on-one with Hyunjin ever again, you would have laughed it off and pretended to throw up, but here you were. Reminiscing with someone who made your heart crumble into pieces back in high school. How funny.

You don’t do anything to stop your friendship from growing, though. You’ve come to accept that it was going to happen sooner or later. You just wish that you knew what was going on in his mind when the two of you broke up, but it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be something you know about any time soon, so you forced yourself to push those thoughts away and just focus on building new memories rather than focusing on the past.

Forgive and forget, right? You didn’t even know what to forgive him for.

“Hyunjin.”

“Yeah?”

“Why did we break up?”

Silence.

You looked over your shoulder to look at him, but all there was, was a distant expression on his face. He chewed on his lip before exhaling quietly.

“You know why we broke up.”

“No, I want to know what YOU think is the reason why we broke up.” You corrected yourself to clarify it for him, as he stole a glance from you for a moment before his eyes glued back onto the road.

“Okay. I’ll tell you in the bakery, just not while we’re still on the road, okay?” He spoke quietly and you nodded.

Your heartbeat picked up its pace, blood rushing all throughout your body. You felt hot. Nervous. You were finally about to figure out Hyunjin’s side of the story after years of being oblivious to it.

Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.

Hyunjin hadn’t expected to have given into you so easily. Yet, he did. He made up his mind at that moment and told himself he was going to tell you everything today.

He has spent the last few weeks mentally preparing himself for this conversation, and he expected to have everything he thought happened in the past, disproved by you.

He was ready to swallow his pride and apologize for misunderstanding everything, and he was even ready to ask for another chance. Beg you, if he had to.

“Have you dated anyone else since we broke up?” Hyunjin questioned in curiosity as you stopped to think about it.

“Mmm… I have. It was never an official relationship though.” You decided to mention it just so it wouldn’t cause any problems if it were brought up in the future. “How about you? Have you dated anybody? And no, hooking up doesn’t count.”

Hyunjin chuckled at what you said before then shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t dated anyone. It was only flings and hook-ups. You know, the usual fuckboy shit.” He shrugged indifferently.

“You fucking sex addict!”

“Hey, you enjoyed it when we were together though.”

“Ew shut up.”

“Yes ma’am!”

The two of you bickered jokingly before bursting out into laughter. The atmosphere inside the car was light and the tension that once took its place between you two had faded away. You had almost forgotten how fun it was to be around Hyunjin, so you were glad that you were able to experience this side of him again.

No facades.

“And here we are! Tadaa! Young Books Bakery!” Hyunjin spoke in a sing-songy tone, parking his car right in front of his friend’s business.

“Young Books Bakery?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the wordplay, “How clever.”

“Thanks, I helped him with it.” He grinned at you and turned his key to turn the car off before taking it out.

“Of course you did, it’s so corny.”

“Hey! That’s not very nice.” Hyunjin pouted and got out of the car to help you on the other side.

Opening your car for you, he teases, “Hurry up shortie,” and you raise an eyebrow at him in response, stepping out of the car while he closes it behind you.

“Oh so now we’re lying?” You crossed your arms at him and stuck your tongue out.

“I’m not lying. You’re short to me.” He smirked at you and poked your cheek before dragging you along to enter Felix’s bakery.

As soon as Hyunjin opened the door for you, the sweet aroma of all the baked goods filled your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering in response.

“Holy shit! It smells like heaven in here!” You exclaimed giddily as you walked in like a kid in a candy store, Hyunjin following close behind with fond eyes.

“Y/N!! Hyunjin!! Hey guys welcome in!” A deep voice spoke from behind one of the bookshelves as he peeked his head out, revealing himself with a toothy smile.

“Felix hi!!! This place looks amazing!” You clapped as you admired your surroundings and the decor around the room.

The place was warm and cozy, furnished with soft sofas, bean bags, hammock chairs, and a lot of pillows. A LOT.

Bookshelves covered the walls from the floor to the ceiling and there was always a splash of color, no matter where you looked. The cashier counter was located in the very back of the place, with a few of the baked goods on display for everybody to see. There was soft and quiet music playing in the background, but it was so subtle that you were barely able to notice it. The place was lively, and honestly, you could see yourself coming here much more often.

“Thank you! You can go ahead and look around, just let me know when you want to order anything from the bakery! Or you could just chill here too, I don’t mind!” Felix encouraged you to explore the place more before going back to organizing the bookshelf he was working on.

“Go ahead, I’ll come back to you but I gotta talk to Felix real quick, okay? It won’t take long, I promise.” Hyunjin patted your head before ushering you off and walking towards Felix.

“Hey, bro.”

“Hey, Hyunjinnnnie~ Taking Y/N out on a date I see? We’re so proud!” Felix smirked and nudged his side, gaining a groan from the taller boy.

“My fucking palms are sweating bro. I told her I was going to tell her my side of the story in here.” Hyunjin whispered as the other boy chuckled.

“You ARE gonna go through with it, aren’t you? You can’t just say you’re gonna do something and NOT do it, y’know?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m doing it. I just hope she won’t judge me for being insecure in the past. I’ve obviously thought about it a lot in the past four years, and I never actually saw her cheat. I just… assumed. I was scared and threatened by the guy she was talking to. I’ve never seen her so close with another guy that it broke something in me.” Hyunjin sighed and ruffled his hair back as Felix shook his head.

“She wouldn’t. You know she wouldn’t, just trust her AND trust yourself.“

“Thanks Felix, I knew I could talk to you. Now wish me luck.”

Walking away from him, he made his way to you, who was indulged in a book that you picked out. You decided to sit on one of the beanbags, and your entire body was sunken into the cushion.

Hyunjin admired how you looked so comfortable and cute, even if you were practically doing nothing.

“Hey I’m back, did you wanna eat anything? I’ll pay.” He offered and took a seat on the beanbag next to yours, the soft cushion molding to his figure.

“I’m not really hungry right now, but thank you for asking anyway!” You declined the offer but put the book down on the coffee table in front of you to face towards him.

“Soooo?”

“So what?”

“Your side of the story, silly. You can start wherever you’d like, I’m all ears!” You flashed him a smile and he returned one to you nervously.

This was REALLY happening.

“Well okay. I was hoping you’d forget about it.” He playfully teased and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

Urging him to continue with your hand movements, he opens his mouth to finally get the burden off of his chest, only to be interrupted by the chimes above the entrance door.

Hyunjin’s eyes break contact with yours as his pupils travel to the person to just entered, his back straightening and his face morphing into one of discomfort.

“Hyunjin?” You tapped his shoulder in concern as he managed to stutter out, “I uh.. Sorry for getting distracted..” He mumbles and presses his lips together, forming a thin line.

His actions made you confused. Who walked in to get him so tense? You turned around to see who it was, and to your surprise, it was Beomgyu who walked in with another guy beside him. He looks familiar.

They weren’t looking in your direction yet as they hadn’t noticed that you were there, so you turned back around and placed your hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.

Successfully grabbing his attention, he looks back down to your face and smiles as best as he can, even if it is strained. His eyes flicker back up, and unfortunately for him, he makes eye contact with the pair that had just walked in.

Fuck.

“No way. Is that THE Hwang Hyunjin from high school?” A voice, tinted with disdain, broke the tension in the air, but at the same time, it felt as if the tension was at an all-time high right now. You didn’t recognize the voice immediately, but you felt it in your gut that you knew him, or at least had met him before.

You decided it was best to keep your identity hidden and not turn back around to look at them.

Hyunjin’s hand took its place on your waist as his grip tightened protectively. Eyes narrowing at the guy, Hyunjin ignored him and put his attention back onto you.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” His eyes rolled so far he could swear he was almost able to see the back of his head.

“Yo, it’s rude to ignore people y’know? Oh wait, I totally forgot you don’t care about whether you’re rude or not.” The unknown boy remarked as you heard footsteps approaching close behind you.

“Y/N?” It was Beomgyu that spoke just now, and not his friend. You had nothing against him and you didn’t want to be disrespectful, so you hesitantly looked behind you to greet him.

“Hey Gyu..!” You laughed awkwardly as the boy next to him gasped.

“Y/N! It’s been a while! Remember me?” The tone his friend chose to talk to you with was drastically different compared to the tone he chose to talk to Hyunjin with, and it confused you a bit. Your eyes landed on the familiar boy’s face as you studied his features a little longer before your eyes widened.

“Heeseung?”

“So you do remember me! It’s nice to see you again.“ Heeseung smiled at you and you smiled back, anger bubbling in Hyunjin’s stomach at the exchange.

Why did you smile at him?

“One question though, what the fuck are you doing with this jackass again? You’re better than that.” Heeseung pointed at Hyunjin who scoffed at his remark.

“Oh, I’m the jackass?” He stood up from beside you, “That’s real funny coming from you.”

“And you’re still not making any sense years later. What the fuck are you on dude? I did nothing to you and yet you did the most to me.” Heeseung snarled and pushed him back threateningly.

You and Beomgyu looked at each other in concern. While Beomgyu hated Hyunjin, he didn’t think it was worth getting into a fight with him. Violence was always a last resort to him, and that was something you both had in common.

“Heeseung we should go, let’s not cause a scene. It was good to see you Y/N.” Beomgyu grabbed his friend’s arm to pull him back as you stood up with Hyunjin and tugged his arm as well.

“Let’s sit back down, yeah? Ignore it.” You attempted to calm him down, but it was easy to tell—even from a mile away—that he was still pissed.

“Y/N, you should leave with us too. This guy is crazy.” Heeseung laughed as Beomgyu elbowed his ribs to get him to stop.

“Stop it, man.”

“What? I’m telling the truth. The motherf-“

Before he even got to finish his sentence, a strong blow to the face put him on the floor, rubbing his jaw.

Hyunjin rolled up his sleeves and approached Heeseung as you panicked and tried to hold him back, only to be shoved back down onto the beanbag.

“Fuck is wrong with you? First, you beat the living shit outta me in high school with no explanation and leave Y/N heartbroken. Now that I’m trying to protect her from getting her heart broken again, you wanna punch me?! You’re fucking mental.” Heeseung spat out and glared.

Beomgyu was quick to go to your side and check if you were okay, and thankfully you were. It wasn’t a hard shove that Hyunjin gave you. In fact, it was really gentle, and you just happened to lose your balance and fall. But it still made Hyunjin look bad.

Heeseung’s words lingered in your mind.

Hyunjin beat him up in high school?? I thought they were friends?

You decided to shrug it off for right now and focused on getting him to leave Heeseung alone. That was a topic to talk about on another day.

“Hyunjin stop, let’s just go.” You spoke up, wanting to de-escalate the situation as much as possible, but it came to no avail.

“Listen to Y/N, it’s the least you can do for not doing it years back. Asshole.” Heeseung mocked as another hit landed on his face. And another, and another.

Beomgyu pulled you back from Hyunjin to prevent any hits from accidentally landing on you, the two of you wincing with each punch thrown at Heeseung.

You couldn’t watch this anymore and you grabbed your phone to call Felix, and he immediately picks the call up.

“Hey Y/N—“ “Please come! Hyunjin is beating the fuck out of Heeseung!” “..What? Shit, okay I’m coming.”

The call ended and you were able to hear rapid footsteps coming from the back as Felix quickly rushed to the scene from the storage room, pulling Hyunjin off harshly and throwing him on the ground.

“Bro what the fuck??” Felix furrowed his eyebrows talking to his friend, looking back and forth from him to Heeseung. Hyunjin stayed quiet but his eyes fixated on you.

You made eye contact with him and frowned, shaking your head in disappointment.

Ouch.

Felix watched Hyunjin watch you to check if Heeseung was okay before sighing.

Felix knew of what he thought Heeseung did, so he couldn’t be fully mad at him for beating up. That, and because they’re best friends. Beating him up to this extent, though? It was uncalled for. He didn’t blame you for checking up on him instead of Hyunjin, but he was well aware of what this would make Hyunjin think, and it wasn’t any good.

So much for progress…

“Are you fucking serious Y/N? You’re worried about this fucker rather than me? I was right all along. You’re still the same two-faced bitch from before.” Hyunjin cursed at you, pushing back his tears, and you looked back with a mix of confusion and hurt on your face.

“Are YOU serious, Hyunjin? I don’t know what you’re on, but do I need to remind you that YOU beat Heeseung up?? He’s fucking bleeding and I’m sure as hell confident he’s gonna be bruised! Of course I’m worried about him when he didn’t even hit you ONCE!” You were baffled and hurt by his outburst, so you looked away and tended to Heeseung’s wounds instead, not wanting to even look at him.

“I always knew you two had something going on. All you did was prove me right.” Hyunjin muttered quietly under his breath. He got up and dusted himself off, heading towards the exit whilst ignoring Felix’s pleas to stay and explain everything to you instead of leaving.

“Find your own way back home. You clearly don’t need any explanation. You can forget about us being friends, too. You haven’t changed at all.” And with that, Hyunjin left.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them away so it made it look like you were unbothered.

“I’ll get the first aid kit from the back.” Felix rubbed your back before standing up to fetch some ointment and bandages.

“What were you doing with him?” Heeseung questioned as you dabbed his bleeding lip with his shirt.

“He was going to explain his side of the story of what happened in high school since we were on good terms again. I’m sorry, I don’t know why he did this. I didn’t even know he did it before.” You sighed sadly as he shook his head.

“It’s not your fault, he’s an ass. He just started hating me for no damn reason.” Heeseung laughed a little and sat up straight, fixing his posture.

“You look really pretty today. Say, after we clean him up, let’s all hang out! Let’s invite Ayen too! It’d be a waste to go back home after wearing a stunning outfit.” Beomgyu tried to brighten the mood, and it worked out as you giggled and Heeseung nodded.

“I didn’t know you knew Heeseung, how come you never mentioned it? He was the other person in the trio that me and Ayen are in.” He asked you with curious eyes.

“Ah, we weren’t that close! We talked like maybe once or twice outside of class, and that’s pretty much it. Excluding a partner project we had to do together.” You explained as Beomgyu hummed in acknowledgment.

“I’m back with the kit!”

“Thank you, Lix!”

“No problem Y/Nnie! Sorry about Hyunjin, I’ll make sure to talk to him.”

“Thanks, Felix. Okay, I’ll add you to the group chat and you text Ayen that we’ll pick him up.” Beomgyu took out his phone to add you to the group, and you took yours out as well.

~

“He WHAT?!” Jeongin spat his drink out in the car.

The four of you were driving somewhere without a destination in mind, and you had just finished telling Jeongin everything that went down, making sure not to miss any important details.

“Watch the seats! But yeah, your friend is insane dude. Tell him to watch it and stop getting into fights.” Beomgyu sighed as Jeongin facepalmed, Hyunjin’s fucking everything up. He thought to himself.

“Yeah, not only did he beat me up, I heard him call our sweet Y/N the word that rhymes with pitch,” Heeseung added on, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him avoiding saying bitch out of respect.

“What the fuck??? Man, I don’t know what’s up with him. No wonder why he was in a bad mood when he got home.”

“Yeah well, It’s whatever. What matters now is that we have fun together!” You changed the topic and cheered, as the three other boys in the car joined you in the cheering.

~

The loud knocking came from the other side of Hyunjin’s bedroom door, and he couldn’t help but hope it was you coming back for him, but he knew that wasn’t the usual way you would knock. So he kept his head buried in his pillow.

“Come in.”

He heard the door creak open and close, the person sitting down on his desk next to the bed.

“Care to explain what the fuck happened?” Jeongin had a hint of irritation in his voice, and Hyunjin was able to detect it. Sighing, he rolls over to lie on his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“She chose Heeseung over me. Like before.” His voice cracked as he sniffled, nose red.

Jeongin stared at the boy’s face, noticing his red and puffy eyes.

“You’re so stupid. You beat Heeseung up and he didn’t fight back. Didn’t even attempt to. Of course she would check up on him instead of you.” Jeongin scolded and folded his arms over his chest. “Is he the guy you think she cheated on you with?”

“I don’t think she cheated, I KNOW she cheated.”

“Shut up, no you don’t. You don’t know she cheated because she DIDN’T, stop fucking accusing her of it when you don’t know her side of the story.” Jeongin defended you in a heartbeat, gradually getting more and more annoyed.

“You don’t know my side either!” Hyunjin exclaimed and glared at the boy next to him.

“I don’t need to, I’m smart enough to put two and two together, and you couldn’t be any more wrong.” Jeongin’s volume increased the more he talked. “You hurt two of my closest friends in one day. One physically and one emotionally. I was willing to help you figure all this shit out because you’re also one of my close friends, but I fucking refuse to let you hurt them, not for the third time. You’ve already hurt them in the past, and you’ve done it again today in the same way you did it before. The same two people that have done NOTHING to you. All because you can’t communicate your thoughts and feelings, people are getting hurt. And so are you, Hyunjin.” Jeongin was yelling at this point, and he was sure he caught the attention of everybody else under the same roof, or maybe even the neighbors.

“Don’t ever call my best friend a two-faced bitch ever again, I mean it. You’re out here telling Y/N that she hasn’t changed, but have you ever stopped to look in the fucking mirror? Or, I don’t know, step back and see that maybe, JUST MAYBE, she hasn’t changed because she hasn’t done anything wrong in the first place? Don’t expect me to help you with the shit you have going on anymore. You really fucked it up this time.” Jeongin got up from the desk and opened Hyunjin’s bedroom door, only to find Felix, Changbin, Minho, and Chan all listening in.

They all, except Felix, looked at him with a questioning look, one that asked ‘What the hell happened?’ But Jeongin did nothing but shrug it off.

“Ask the crying piece of shit over there. I’m staying over at Han’s place for a while. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

a/n: this one’s a little short guys I APOLOGIZE. also, yes i know ayen, gyu, and heeseung are 01 liners but i changed their ages to be 03 liners instead to match the storyline better😋

𝜗𝜚 WTK series masterlist

TAGLIST (OPEN)! @jeonginplsholdmyhand @jeonginsgirl @mlrroh @mafiulaputaama @seungzsmin @hannie-bees @skz1lov @porang-poranglinos @sillyhal @mitchii @soulphoenix1618 @gnab-nahc @hyunjins-dimples @nappynapnaps @15092000volcano @livixcore @linocvp1d @yaorzu-blog @scallywag1299 @boo-ven9eance @lys4lix @kirbrary @4ln-stay8 @sellomaybe @aznstoner @saintcosette @starseungs @syedazarintasnim @elqivxstxr @ivydoesit23 @weirdowithaphone @hyuneee3 @nhyunn @velvetmoonlght @amarecerasus @skzstan12345 @ravengxbss @sweetbokji

[cvnntagious]

what is fuckboy!matt doing rn plsplsplsplspls

the pic, i'm sobbing lmfao

[monday, 10:23AM] :

fuckboy!matt's busy getting his dick sucked by reader before he has to start getting ready for a lecture. he's not usually one to ask for things like this, but he woke up with the biggest hard-on he's probably had in his life for 'no reason'... or at least that's what he told reader... now she has him halfway down her throat as his hand tugs at her hair, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, groaning with each flick of her tongue over his leaking slit

[larvamars]

drawing him again is like going back to your toxic ex

full

[quarterlifekitty]

To all you beautiful, big brained, horny scholars in my inbox:

Worry not. Johnny will always have his throne in my posts…

[mizusnose]

Have any CollegeAu! Headcanons for Mizu? General or Romantic! I'm just curious 👁👁

okay!!! this might be an unpopular opinion but: college fuckboy!mizu…

for ultimate brainrot, Limbo by Freddie Dredd on repeat ☺️

NSFW

Is known around campus as the fuckboy despite being a woman. Is exclusively nicknamed the mean hot butch by all the lesbians on campus.

Despite having this reputation, a lot of women cant get enough of her. Has someone over almost every weekend—minus the ones she isn’t away visiting and training with swordfather.

Is on the collegiate fencing team. Strong, lean, and when she takes off her face guard, her sweaty jaw and neck always fluster her rival Taigen whenever they’re dueling.

Smokes weed—a lot. Can handle herself and usually hits her pen as she’s studying or while she fucks her dates. Isn’t entirely dependent on it, since it’s an alternative to cigarettes but yeah.

Is messy. Every time she invites a girl over, doesn’t bother to clean up and just pushes her pile of laundry off her bed before she eats out the lucky girl who gets to brag about Mizu’s tongue game.

Doesn’t let her flings stay the night. Will give amazing after care, but as soon as that’s over, she’s directing you to the door.

Kissing is allowed but only during sex—this is a strict rule for her. Doesn’t want any soft stuff. Would rather make out messily and get the girl off with her mouth instead of kissing anyone soft.

Is into biting. Like, will mark up girls and leave her bite marks on the inside of their thighs and their shoulders and wrists.

Is exclusively rough in bed. Doesn’t really have slow sensual sex unless she’s high beforehand.

Doesn’t know how to handle emotions—would rather fuck them out of her system instead.

That being said, she doesn’t take kindly to confessions. Rolls her eyes, mean and oh so hot as she tells anyone who “loves her” that I’m just the best you’ve ever had. That’s not love baby, that’s lust.

Has tats. Up high on her ribs and around her left hip. She got them to hide the scars she got from training when she was younger.

Has awful music taste and only listens to rap or trap music. Taigen calls her a degenerate and they wrestle on the ground—he catches feelings too. Mizu has to reject him.

okay okay okay. i feel like there’s potential for mizu to be fucking mean and awful—especially since that’s how she is in the beginning of the first season so…this was born.

can imagine her getting her act together later on to start impressing reader or akemi, you can choose.