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hi guys.. did you miss me 🥹🥹😭, ive been so busy with work and getting my life together!! ill be back soon!!! I have some ideas in the works and except them out soon <3 SORRY FOR JS DIPPING
OH HELLOOOO, SHE BROKE THE FOUR LETTER WORD ALBUM TITLE 'you seem pretty sad for a girl so inlove' MOTHER IS SO ICONIC. predicting single 1 drops next week.
(also if anyone cares the pink and blue mixed together makes the sour purple).
fresh off of a breakup and determined to prove you're completely fine, you decide the best solution is a night out and several bad decisions. unfortunately for you, jungkook, your friend, your biggest problem, and the guy who’s apparently liked you for years, decides that tonight is the perfect night to finally ask you on a date.
pairing jeon jungkook x fem!reader
genre friends to lovers. college au. angst. smut. drama. bratty oc. slow burn
warnings oc is really a brat, like shes so witty. smut. sub!dom dynamics. oral (m!receiving). unprotected sex (wrap it up). fingering. multiple positions. dirty talking. oc has a degradation kink. use of good girl. jk is obsessed with oc. multiple orgasms (fem!receiving).
sound track CUT MY HAIR — TATE MCRAE | series m.list
you know before he says anything. it’s in the way jackson doesn’t move when you walk in through his sleek apartment doors. no hand on your waist, no distracted kiss pressed to your temple while he scrolls through his phone. he’s just standing there, a few feet away, like he’s already decided you’re on your own. you notice it immediately, the invisible line he’s drawn between you, and you don’t like it.
“why do you look like you’re about to break up with me,” you say lightly, dropping your bag onto the chair and slipping off your heels. “did you do something stupid?”
he doesn’t answer. he just exhales, slow, steady, measured like he’s bracing himself.
“we need to talk,” he finally says with a sigh.
you tilt your head, unimpressed. you’ve heard him throw this phrase around multiple times over the past few months. “oh? fancy words. go on.”
he runs a hand through his hair, calm, too calm, and that’s worse. unsettling.
“okay,” you say, folding your arms. “talk.” another pause stretches long enough for your brain to fill in the blanks before he finally pushes the words out. “i don’t think this is working anymore.”
you blink at him, not reacting, letting the weight of the words sink in. “that’s not specific,” you say finally, keeping your voice level but sharp. “you’re breaking up with me, or just complaining?”
“us,” he says. “this. i can’t keep doing this.”
the way he says it is precise, measured, like he’s read it off a script he wrote for himself weeks ago. you blink again, testing it “you’re breaking up with me,” you repeat, almost to see if hearing it aloud will make it less real. “yeah,” he says.
the cold calm hits you harder than anger ever could. no shouting, no trembling, no dramatic gestures, just a decision he made before you even got here. your arms cross tighter, your chin tilts, and you ask the only thing left to ask “why.”
he exhales again, tired, not angry, not annoyed, just exhausted. “because everything feels like a fight. every conversation turns into something bigger than it has to be. i’m constantly walking on fuckin’ eggshells around my girlfriend.”
you let out a short and bitter laugh. “walking on eggshells? from me?” you challenge, stepping closer, voice rising but not breaking. “feels like i’m constantly failing,” he says. “like if i don’t react the way you want, it becomes a whole fucking thing.”
“a whole thing,” you repeat, smirking just enough to sting. “you mean me expecting you to care? oh my gosh how dare i expect my boyfriend to care about me!” he doesn’t flinch. “i do care,” he says.
“then why does it always feel like i have to always drag it out of you?” you snap, closing the distance, voice sharp. “why does it feel like i’m the only one actually trying?”
“because it’s constant,” he says, voice steady but with a flash of frustration. “it’s exhausting all the time.” exhausting. like loving you is hard like manual labor. you swallow, steady yourself, refusing to be the girl that crumbles in someone's living room, refusing to give him that victory.
“that’s funny,” you say, shrugging as though it’s nothing, “because you loved all this at the start. my energy. my drama. me actually having a spine y’know.”
he shakes his head slightly, a flicker of something in his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. “there’s a difference between passion and constant conflict,” he says. “i don’t feel good in this anymore.”
you scan his face, searching for a crack, a hesitation, anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. he’s sure. he’s calm. he’s done.
“so that’s it,” you say, voice sharper now, letting a bitter laugh escape, “you’re breaking up with me because i’m not easy?”
“i’m leaving because i feel like i’m failing all the time,” he replies. “nothing i do feels like enough unless it’s big, unless it’s dramatic, unless it matches your… energy.”
you laugh again, thin and sharp. “sorry your idea of effort is a one-letter response i guess.”
he closes his eyes briefly, frustration slipping through. “this is what i mean. you turn everything into a fight.”
“maybe because you act like you don’t care unless i force you to,” you fire back, voice cutting, “maybe if you actually fought for me once, i wouldn’t have to–”
the room goes quiet. he looks at you for a long moment. not angry. not annoyed. just done.
“i don’t want to fight for this anymore,” he says as his hand gestures toward you, and you know that’s it, that’s the real ending. not the word exhausting, not the complaints, but that simple, flat statement. you feel something crack under your ribs, but your pride stitches it up immediately.
the cold clarity hits you. “okay,” you say.
he blinks. “okay?”
“if that’s how you feel.”
you pick up your bag, sling it over your shoulder with deliberate precision, every step measured, every movement slow, like this is your choice too. part of you waits, because jackson always caves. but this time, he doesn’t.
“you’re really just… done,” you say, almost curious.
“yeah,” he repeats. no hesitation.
you walk to the door, hand resting on the handle a fraction too long. say something you fucking punk, you think. he doesn’t. “good luck finding someone easier,” you say instead, not looking back. “i’m sure she’ll be very peaceful.”
you step out of jackson’s building and the cold air hits your face immediately, sharp enough to wake you up a little. the street is glossy from earlier rain, neon lights bleeding into the wet asphalt. somewhere down the block a club is already loud, bass thumping through the pavement and up your legs. you pause on the sidewalk, bag sliding down your shoulder, and let out a slow breath.
you reach into your bag, pull out a cigarette, roll it between your fingers before lighting it. the first inhale burns slightly in your lungs. good. you lean back against the brick wall beside the entrance and exhale toward the street, watching the smoke disappear into the night traffic.
you’re not going home. absolutely not.
your phone is already in your hand before you really think about it. you open the group chat.
hey. wanna go out tn to the club? 20 minutes.
you hit send.
the reply from danbi comes almost instantly.
finally.
megan reacts with three fire emojis. jimin just sends omw.
you smile to yourself, taking another drag from the cigarette. the bass from the club down the street gets louder every time the door opens, people spilling out onto the sidewalk laughing too loudly, stumbling into cabs, pulling friends inside by the wrist.
by the time you reach the entrance, the line is short and moving fast. the bouncer barely glances at you before waving you through. warm air and music swallow you the second you step inside, lights flashing across a packed floor.
you scan the room automatically, mostly strangers, a few faces you recognize from campus– and then you see him near the bar.
jungkook.
he’s leaning against the counter with one elbow, black jacket pushed back slightly, drink in his hand while he listens to something taehyung is saying. he looks relaxed, like he’s been here a while. his hair falls messily over his forehead when he laughs at something, head tipping back for a second before he takes another sip.
you hadn’t known he was coming tonight.
for a moment you just watch him through the crowd, expression unreadable, cigarette still between your fingers. then he glances up. his eyes land on you almost immediately.
and he smiles like he expected to see you.
the club is loud enough to blur the lines of everything. bass crawling up your spine, lights flashing white and blue across bodies that move like they don’t have consequences. you’re dancing without really thinking about it, drink loose in your hand, hair sticking slightly to your neck from the heat. you feel good. reckless in a way.
across the room, jungkook has been watching you for the past ten minutes and pretending like he hasn’t.
he’s leaning against the bar with his friends, nodding at something one of them is saying, but his eyes keep darting back to you. every time you laugh. every time your hands slide up your own arms while you move. every time some random guy tries to slide into your space and you brush him off without even looking. he tells himself he’s being normal about it. but he’s absolutely not.
one of his friends follows his line of sight and snorts. “bro, you gonna keep staring or actually go ask her out?”
jungkook doesn’t answer. he just exhales slowly and keeps watching.
you spin once, slow and deliberate, not for him– but not not for him either. your eyes catch his across the crowd. he’s already looking: eyes dark, taking in your every movement. you expect him to glance away like usual, pretend he wasn’t. he doesn’t.
that’s new.
you hold his gaze a second longer than necessary, then turn back around like it doesn’t matter. like he doesn’t matter.
he pushes off the bar.
you feel him coming before you see him. you don’t turn. you take a slow sip of your drink instead, letting him walk into your space. let him choose this.
“thought you were ‘staying in tonight,’ huh? isn’t that what you told me?” his voice cuts through the music when he’s close enough.
you turn slowly, already smirking. “don’t start.”
he’s closer than usual, not friendly-close. his hands are in his pockets, you can smell the alcohol on him. “stop staring at me, you punk.” you mutter
“i’m not starting,” he says. “i’m observing.”
“thats not creepy at all,” you reply dragging out the last few syllables.
“i’m just concerned!” he corrects, eyes flicking briefly to the guy who’d been dancing near you earlier. “you literally attract idiots.” like jackso– he thinks before stopping himself
you laugh. “that sounds personal.”
“oh. it is.”
that makes you pause for half a second. you cock an eyebrow. “jealous?”
this is usually where he deflects. makes a joke. shoves your shoulder. changes the subject. however, this time he doesn’t.
“maybe,” he says.
you feel something warm and clammy brewing in your stomach– kinda like butterflies. and you immediately decide you don’t like that.
“wow,” you say lightly. “who are you and what did you do with jeon jungkook?”
he runs a hand through his hair, something restless in the movement. “i’m serious.” you cross your arms, cocking your head to the side, instinct kicking in because this feels dangerously close to ‘vulnerable’ territory. “about what?”
he looks at you properly now. not playful anymore.
“about liking you.”
the music keeps pounding, but it feels like it dropped a level in your ears. you blink at him. “don’t make that face,” he mutters.
“what face?” you ask.
“that one.”
you study him for signs of a joke. there aren’t any. “how long?” you ask. he hesitates. that’s how you know it’s real. “a while.”
“define ‘a while,’” you push.
he exhales slowly. “long enough, that watching you flirt with random guys in here is starting to get old.” you step closer on purpose. testing. invading his space the way you always do when you wanna test if someone will fold. he doesn’t. “so what,” you say, voice light but sharp, “you came over here to confess in the middle of a club?”
“no,” he says immediately. “i came over here to ask you out.” you blink again. “we literally hang out all the time–”
“not like that.” his jaw tightens slightly. “as a fuckin’ date princess. with me actually trying.” there’s something in the way he says ‘trying’ that makes your stomach flip in a really annoying way.
“and if i say no?” you ask. he shrugs, but it’s tight. “then i drop it. i’ll deal with it. but i’m done pretending i don’t feel it.” you poke his chest lightly. “you’ve liked me this whole time and didn’t say anything?”
“yeah.”
“that’s embarrassing.”
he huffs a small laugh. “i know.”
you let the silence stretch. watch him stand there, steady but tense, waiting. for once, he’s not in control of the mood. you are. and you like that. “where would you even take me?” you ask quietly.
his eyebrows lift slightly, surprised you didn’t shut it down immediately. “somewhere that isn’t this loud. somewhere where i can actually hear you fuckin’ talk to me.”
“bold of you to assume i’d even show up, y’know.”
“oh, you would,” he says.
“oh?” you challenge.
“yeah. because you’re curious.” his eyes soften just a little. “and because you’ve felt it too.” you don’t respond to that. instead, you just smirk slightly.
“fine.” you say, his breath catches almost invisibly.
“fine?”
“one date,” you clarify. “and if it’s boring, i’m leaving.” relief flashes across his face before it smoothens it into that familiar half-smirk. “it won’t be.”
“oh, you better hope not,” you say, already turning like the conversation hadn’t meant anything. like you hadn’t just agreed to a date in the middle of a crowded club.
jungkook reaches for your hand, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.
you don’t.
his fingers slide between yours easily, like he’s been thinking about doing it for a long time and finally decided to stop pretending otherwise. his grip isn’t tight, just warm.
you subconsciously compare it to when jackson would hold your hand. you don’t say anything about it, though. you just glance down at your joined hands for half a second before looking back up at him, expression unreadable, like it doesn’t affect you at all.
the campus lawn is loud in that lazy, unserious way it always is after classes. people pretending to study, music bleeding from someone’s speaker near the fountain, iced coffees sweating into the grass. you’re sitting between megan and jimin, legs stretched out, sunglasses on even though the sun keeps disappearing behind clouds.
taehyung drops down across from you with a groan. “had the worst sleep of my fuckin’ life, starting to think college isn’t worth it.”
“you say that every week,” megan replies without looking up from her phone.
“one day i’ll mean it.”
jimin hands you your drink. “extra sugar.”
“you understand me,” you say, tapping your cup against his.
jungkook shows up last, sliding into the space next to you like it’s automatic. his thigh brushes yours for a second before he settles. you don’t move. neither does he.
the air shifts. just slightly.
megan notices first. of course she does. her eyes flick between you two. “why is this weird?”
“what’s weird?” you ask immediately.
“yeah,” jungkook adds at the same time.
everyone freezes.
taehyung leans back on his hands, slow grin spreading. “that.”
you roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink like you don’t care. but you can feel jungkook’s shoulder against yours. steady. warm. distracting.
before anyone can start interrogating you, you turn to danbi. “actually, where did you disappear to last night?”
danbi chokes on nothing. “what?”
“at the club,” you say. “you were next to me and then you just vanished.”
“oh my god,” megan gasps. “yeah. you literally ghosted us.”
danbi looks suspiciously defensive. “i did not ghost you.”
“you did,” jimin says. “i saw you leave with someone.”
your head snaps toward her. “you what?”
taehyung sits up straighter. “this just got interesting.”
danbi groans. “it was not like that.”
“it was exactly like that,” jimin insists. “tall guy. black shirt. looked like he says ‘i don’t usually do this’ a lot.”
you stare at her. “danbi.”
she avoids your eyes. “we just went to get food.”
“at 1 a.m,” megan deadpans.
“people eat at 1 a.m!”
“did you at least get his name?” you press.
danbi hesitates.
the entire group screams.
“no way bro–” taehyung yells. “you’re irresponsible,” jimin says, shaking his head dramatically.
“i know his name,” she defends. “i just– just forgot it for a second.”
you laugh, leaning back on your hands. “unbelievable.”
jungkook glances at you, small smile tugging at his mouth. “you’re judging her like you weren’t equally chaotic.”
“i wasn’t chaotic,” you argue.
he raises an eyebrow. “you were dancing on a platform.”
you shurg
megan suddenly points between you two. “okay but can we circle back to why you’re sitting like that?”
you both look down.
your legs are almost touching. his hand is resting way too close to yours in the grass.
you subtly move your hand.
he subtly moves his closer again.
taehyung makes a noise like he’s watching a david attenborough documentary. “nature is healing.”
“shut up,” jungkook mutters.
danbi squints at him. “so. did you tell her?”
you shoot her a warning look.
too late.
jimin gasps. “awww, he told her?”
jungkook exhales sharply like he’s already tired. “i asked her on a date. it’s not a national announcement.”
“it kind of is,” taehyung says.
you keep your face neutral. “it’s just one date.”
“one date,” megan repeats slowly.
“don’t make it dramatic,” you say.
jungkook tilts his head slightly. “you were the one interrogating danbi five seconds ago.”
“deflection,” you reply smoothly.
he leans closer, voice low enough that only you hear it. “you said yes.”
your pulse jumps, but you shrug. “i said maybe.”
“you said friday.”
“did i?”
“don’t do that.”
you finally look at him properly. there’s no teasing in his eyes now. just that steady, quiet intensity that’s been there since the club.
across from you, jimin whispers loudly to taehyung, “they’re doing that eye thing again.”
“it’s sick,” taehyung agrees.
megan clutches danbi’s arm. “if this ruins the friend group, i’m blaming both of them.”
“it won’t,” you say quickly.
jungkook glances at you. “it won’t.”
and for a second, it feels less like teasing and more like a promise.
the conversation shifts back to classes and some campus event happening friday night, but the energy doesn’t fully settle. your knee brushes his. neither of you move. danbi keeps getting roasted about mystery guy. taehyung starts planning a fake double date. jimin threatens to third-wheel yours “for safety purposes.”
but underneath all of it, there’s something new. something everyone can feel. and when jungkook’s fingers lightly hook into yours in the grass where no one can really see, you don’t pull away.
you just squeeze back once.
your apartment is quiet in that heavy way that makes everything feel louder than it should. the faint hum of the fridge, the distant rush of traffic outside, the soft sound of your own breathing filling the space. you’re standing in front of the mirror with your arms loosely folded, staring at your reflection like you’re waiting for it to tell you something first.
the outfit isn’t complicated. black top. jeans. boots. the kind of thing you usually throw on without thinking. except you didn’t. you changed twice before this. the first outfit looked stupid, the second one gave off try-hard vibes, and this one sits somewhere in the middle of neutral & effortless. at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.
your fingers drift to the hem of your top, tugging it down slightly before you even realize what you’re doing. the second you notice, you stop and drop your hand like it burned you.
since when do you do that.
you lean a little closer to the mirror, brushing your thumb under your eye even though your makeup isn’t smudged. your reflection looks calm, put together in a way you don’t actually feel.
“it’s just a date,” you murmur quietly, more to the empty room than to yourself.
the words hang there for a moment.
just a date.
you’ve done wayyyyyyy worse things with less thought.
your gaze drifts to the dresser where your phone sits face down, the room feeling too still again. without thinking you reach for the lip gloss beside it and swipe another layer across your lips.
then you pause.
you already put it on.
you set it back down slowly, staring at your reflection again.
this is ridiculous.
you’ve never stood in front of a mirror like this over a guy before. never cared this much about how something might go. if you looked right. if the night would be awkward. if you were doing something wrong before it even started. with jackson, you just showed up. you never second-guessed it. never stood there wondering if he’d look at you a certain way or if the night would mean something different by the time it was over.
you stare at yourself a little longer, the quiet making your thoughts louder than usual. because the truth is, the nervousness isn’t really about the date. it’s about the possibility that it might actually matter and could possibly ruin your friend group (though– that probably wont happen).
the thought irritates you immediately.
you straighten up, annoyed with yourself. “get over yourself,” you mutter under your breath. it’s one night. one date. not a relationship, not a decision, not anything permanent.
you grab your bag from the chair and sling it over your shoulder like that settles it. your phone buzzes against the dresser.
the sound makes your stomach tighten before you even pick it up.
jungkook:
i’m outside 🤍
the apartment door clicks shut behind you with a dull sound that echoes down the hallway. for a second you just stand there, keys in your hand, bag hanging off your shoulder, like the building itself is waiting to see if you’re going to turn around and go back upstairs.
you don’t.
you sigh quietly through your nose and start walking.
the hallway lights are dim and yellow, your boots muffled against the carpet as you head toward the elevator. the ride down feels slower than it should. the metal walls reflect a warped version of you back, and you glance at it for half a second before looking away like you caught someone staring.
the doors slide open into the lobby.
cool evening air slips in through the glass doors at the front, carrying the faint sounds of the street outside– cars passing, distant music from somewhere down the block.
and he’s there.
jungkook is leaning against the hood of his car just outside the building, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, head tilted down at his phone. the streetlight above him catches the edge of his hair when he shifts.
he looks comfortable.
too comfortable.
like this isn’t a big deal.
which you decide annoys you.
you push the door open and step outside.
the sound makes him look up.
his eyes land on you right away, and for a second he just stares. not in an obvious way, but enough that you notice the way he straightens a little without meaning to, pushing off the hood of the car.
you stop a few feet away from him, crossing your arms loosely.
“you’ve been staring at your phone this whole time?” you ask.
he slips it into his pocket. “i’ve been waiting.”
“dramatic.”
“you’re five minutes late.”
“five minutes is basically early,” you reply. “relax.”
his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.
his eyes flick over you quickly, taking in your outfit in that quiet way people think isn’t obvious.
you tilt your head.
“done scanning?”
“i wasn’t scanning.”
“you absolutely were.”
“just confirming you didn’t ghost me.”
you scoff. “please. i don’t ghost people.”
he raises an eyebrow.
“…often,” you correct.
that earns you a quiet laugh.
you nod toward the car. “so where are we going?”
“you’ll see.”
you groan immediately. “that’s the worst answer possible.”
“you’ll live.”
he walks around the car and opens the passenger door for you before you can reach for it yourself.
you stop.
look at the door.
then at him.
“what is this?” you say. “are you trying to impress me?”
“get in the car.”
“you didn’t answer the question.”
“get in the car,” he repeats, already smiling. you slide into the seat with an exaggerated sigh. “this better not be boring.” you say in a dramatic way, “you agreed to the date without knowing where we’re going,” he replies.
“that was your first mistake.” he adds
he shuts the door and walks around the front of the car. a moment later he slides into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. soft music fills the car as he pulls away from the curb.
for a few minutes neither of you say much.
the city moves past the windows– streetlights reflecting across wet pavement, people walking along the sidewalks, the glow of restaurants and bars lighting up the corners of intersections.
you lean your head back against the seat and glance over at him.
“you’re being weird.” you say
“how so?” he asks
“you’re too calm.” you say– voice almost a whisper
he glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. “should i be panicking?”
“maybe a little.” you say.
“why?” he says cocking his head to the side.
“because you just asked out someone you’ve apparently liked for ‘a while,’” you say, making air quotes. “that’s embarrassing.”
he laughs under his breath.
“you still said yes.”
“i said one date.”
“still counts.”
you roll your eyes and look back out the window.
a few minutes later he turns onto a quieter street lined with smaller restaurants, warm yellow lights spilling across the sidewalk.
he pulls into a parking spot near the corner and shuts off the engine.
you glance around.
“okay,” you admit slowly. “this isn’t terrible.”
“high praise babe.” he laughs
“don’t get used to it.”
you both step out of the car, cool night air brushing against your skin. the restaurant he leads you toward is small and warm-looking, tucked between a bookstore and a café.
soft music spills out when the door opens.
inside it smells like grilled food and something sweet.
you follow the host to a small table near the window. jungkook pulls your chair out before you can sit.
you pause again.
“you’re doing a lot tonight.”
“i’m being normal.”
“this isn’t normal for you.”
“it’s a date.”
you narrow your eyes slightly but sit down anyway. once the waiter hands you menus, you barely glance at yours before setting it aside.
jungkook notices immediately.
“you didn’t read anything.”
“i’m deciding by vibes.”
“that’s not how menus work.”
“watch me.”
he shakes his head, amused.
for a moment the restaurant noise fills the space between you– quiet conversation from nearby tables, clinking glasses, the low hum of music overhead.
then you lean forward slightly.
“so,” you say. “you’ve liked me this whole time.”
he sighs softly. “we’re doing this already?”
“i’m curious.”
“you called it embarrassing.”
“it is.”
“and you still came.”
you shrug one shoulder. “don’t read into it.”
“too late.”
you study him for a moment.
“why me?” you ask suddenly.
he looks confused. “what?”
“there are easier girls,” you say bluntly.
“i know.”
“so why pick the difficult one?”
he holds your gaze for a second.
“because it’s you.”
the answer comes out simple. immediate.
too immediate.
you look down at the table before you can stop yourself, fiddling with the edge of your napkin.
then you look back up, expression returning to normal like nothing happened.
“don’t get sentimental on me,” you say.
he smiles slightly.
“you asked.”
the waiter comes back before either of you say anything else, setting two glasses of water down on the table.
you lean back in your chair while jungkook orders something without even looking at the menu anymore, like he’d already decided before you even got here.
the waiter turns to you.
you glance down at the menu for exactly two seconds.
“that,” you say, pointing randomly.
the waiter nods politely and walks off.
jungkook watches the entire interaction.
“…you didn’t read a single thing,” he says.
“i skimmed through the menu!” you say, getting slightly defensive.
“you pointed.” he says, slightly amused.
“same thing.”
he shakes his head, a quiet laugh slipping out as he reaches for his glass.
the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavier now. something about the earlier conversation still lingers between you.
you tap your fingers lightly against your glass.
“so,” you say casually, like the thought just crossed your mind. “how long is ‘a while’?”
jungkook glances up at you.
“you’re really not letting that go,” he says.
“nope.”
he leans back slightly, studying you for a moment like he’s debating how honest he wants to be.
“…a few months,” he says finally.
you blink.
“that’s it?”
“that’s a long time.”
“not really.”
“for liking someone you see almost every day?” he says. “yeah, it is.”
you tilt your head.
“so you’re telling me you’ve just been sitting there silently liking me for months.”
“pretty much.”
you snort.
“that’s embarrassing.”
“you’ve said that already.”
“because it is.”
he takes a sip of water before setting the glass down again.
“you’re enjoying this a little too much.” he says
“i am.”
his eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a small smile at the corner of his mouth.
“you’re so mean.” he says in that mocking tone he always uses.
“you like it.”
he exhales through his nose. “…unfortunately.”
you grin faintly. the waiter returns with your drinks, placing them down before disappearing again.
you take a slow sip, watching jungkook over the rim of your glass. he notices immediately.
“what.” he asks
“nothin.” you say, slightly giggling
“you’re staring.”
“i’m just… thinking.”
“that’s dangerous.”
you ignore that.
“you could’ve said something earlier,” you say. “saved yourself the whole ‘watching me flirt with other guys’ problem.”
his jaw tightens slightly.
“i wasn’t planning on saying anything.”
“so what changed?”
he taps his fingers lightly against the table.
“…the club,” he says.
you raise an eyebrow.
“watching three different guys try to get your number in ten minutes,” he says.
you shrug.
“oh– so your the jealous type?”
he laughs quietly, shaking his head.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and yet here you are.”
a moment later the food arrives, plates sliding onto the table.
you glance down at yours.
“…okay, this actually looks good.”
“told you so.” he says, flashing you that cocky smile.
“don’t get cocky.”
you take a bite, chewing thoughtfully. jungkook watches your reaction.
you pause. “…okay,” you admit. “this is good.”
“so good.” you add
his shoulders relax slightly.
“glad you approve.”
“don’t make it weird.”
he chuckles.
for a few minutes you both eat, conversation drifting into smaller things—classes, a professor you both hate, taehyung doing something stupid earlier in the week.
the tension softens. until your foot accidentally brushes his under the table. both of you freeze. your instinct is to pull away immediately, but instead you leave it there for half a second longer than necessary.
then you move your foot back. jungkook slowly glances up at you.
“…that was an accident,” you say quickly. “sure,” he says, a quiet laugh slipping out.
“don’t start,” you say.
“i didn’t say anything,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you were about to,” you reply.
his mouth curves slightly like he knows you’re right.
“you’re so defensive,” he says. “it’s so cute.”
“i’m observant,” you say.
he leans back in his chair again, watching you with that same quiet way.
you notice immediately and narrow your eyes at him. “stop doing that,” you say.
“doing what,” he asks.
“looking at me like that,” you say.
“like what,” he says, clearly amused.
“like you’re analyzing me,” you say.
“i’m not analyzing you,” he says.
“you absolutely are,” you reply.
he shrugs lightly.
“i just like looking at you,” he says.
the words come out so casually that it takes your brain a second to process them.
you blink at him.
then you immediately recover, leaning back slightly in your chair.
“you’re laying it on thick tonight,” you say.
“i’m being honest,” he says.
“dangerous move,” you reply.
“you’re still here,” he says.
you roll your eyes but look down at your plate so he doesn’t see the faint warmth creeping up your neck.
a few minutes later the waiter comes back to clear the plates.
before you can even look at the bill, jungkook reaches for it.
you notice instantly.
“don’t,” you say.
he pauses and looks up at you.
“don’t what,” he asks.
“pay for it,” you say.
“why not,” he asks.
“because i can pay for my own food,” you say.
“i know,” he says calmly.
“then let me,” you say.
he studies you for a moment before shaking his head slightly.
“you can get the next one,” he says.
you blink.
“next one?” you ask.
“yeah,” he says.
you lean back in your chair and cross your arms.
“bold of you to assume there’s a next one,” you say.
“you’ll go,” he says.
“confidence is dangerous,” you reply.
“i’m willing to risk it,” he says.
you hold his gaze for a second.
then you look away.
“…we’ll see,” you say.
he smiles like that was exactly the answer he expected.
a few minutes later you both step outside together.
the night air feels cooler now, and the street is quieter while the warm restaurant lights glow behind you.
you shove your hands into your jacket pockets while walking toward the car.
for a moment neither of you say anything.
jungkook unlocks the car, then glances over at you before either of you get in.
“…hey,” he says.
you look over at him.
“what,” you say.
he hesitates for a second like he’s choosing his words.
“do you wanna come over to my apartment for a bit?” he asks.
you blink at him.
“your apartment?” you say.
“yeah,” he says.
you narrow your eyes slightly.
“why,” you ask.
he leans casually against the car door.
“we could hang out,” he says. “watch something. talk. whatever.”
the hallway outside his apartment is quiet when you step in, the door shutting behind you with a soft click as you glance around the apartment like you’re casually inspecting it even though you can feel his eyes on you the entire time.
“so this is it,” you say, looking around the living room.
“disappointed?” he asks, leaning back against the door.
you shrug slightly. “i expected worse.”
he lets out a quiet laugh. “rude,” he says, pushing off the door and following you farther inside while you glance down the short hallway that leads deeper into the apartment.
“which door leads to your room?” you ask.
“the one at the end,” he says.
you nod like the information means nothing, then you start walking toward it anyway, and jungkook lets out another quiet laugh behind you.
“you’re very subtle,” he says.
“don’t start,” you reply.
“i’m just saying,” he says as you reach the door at the end of the hallway and push it open.
the room is dim except for a small lamp beside the bed, warm light filling the space as you step inside and turn around just as jungkook stops in the doorway behind you, watching you.
for a second neither of you says anything.
the air suddenly feels heavier now that you’re alone.
you cross your arms loosely. “so.”
“so,” he repeats, pushing off the doorframe and walking a little closer until he’s standing a step away from you.
“you walked straight into my bedroom,” he says.
“it’s a room,” you reply.
“my room,” he says.
you roll your eyes slightly. “don’t make it dramatic.”
he stops close enough now that you can see the faint smirk on his face, his head tilting slightly as he studies you the same way he did earlier.
“you’re nervous,” he says.
“i’m not,” you say immediately.
“you’re talking a lot,” he says.
“i always talk a lot.”
he hums quietly like he doesn’t believe you. “you can leave if you want,” he says after a second.
you scoff softly. “please.”
“just saying,” he replies, and for a moment neither of you moves.
then jungkook lifts his hand slowly and hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up toward him.
you don’t pull away.
his eyes flick down to your mouth before he looks back at you.
“still think liking you is embarrassing?” he murmurs.
“…maybe,” you say quietly.
the corner of his mouth lifts before he leans in, the kiss slow at first like he’s giving you a chance to stop him if you want to.
you don’t.
your hand catches the front of his shirt as the kiss deepens slightly, and he lets out a quiet breath against your mouth while his hand settles at your waist, pulling you a little closer.
when he finally pulls back, the space between you is barely there anymore.
he looks down at you for a second.
“…so,” he says softly.
you raise an eyebrow. “so what.”
a small smirk pulls at his mouth.
“still embarrassing?” he asks.
you stare at him for a moment before shrugging slightly.
“a little,” you say giggling.
in less than a second, he dropped you on top of his plush bedding, climbing on top of you and pressing his soft lips to yours. you gasp up into his mouth, but he simply didn’t give you any time to process, simply feeling your body melt into his covers and accept the attack, a microscopic moan leaving you. his tongue invades your mouth, fighting for dominance.
when you both pull away to catch your breath your heart feels like its about to fucking escape out of your body– his lips pink and swollen and yours probably are too, but that doesn't stop him from kissing you again.
his lips trail down your neck, painting your skin in vibrant blues and purples. causing you to moan out and tug on his hair. your hands instinctively fist at his shirt. his grip tightens on your waist pulling you flush against him.
heat spreads throughout your body fast, wetness pooling right where you want him most, but he’d made you beg for that. his fingers trace the natural curve of your body. ‘s pleased when he sees you slightly shudder from his touch. when you reach out for the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, he catches your wrist, roughly pinning them above your head with a sly smirk. “patience my love,” he coos.
“normally such a brat, aren’t you baby? hm? what happened?” he asks as his hands slip under your shirt, feeling your soft skin. “fuck,” you whimper out, "i hate you," you say, though your voice is with need, that says the exact opposite. your hips now instinctively bucking up into his, making the outline of his cock now very visible through his pants.
much to jungkooks surprise, you slip him out of his trousers, the head is flushed and leaking, fat and heavy on your tongue when you wrap your lips around him. he twitches when you sink lower, when you suck slow and mean, letting spit pool under your tongue so it drips down your chin. he sounds like he might actually cry.
“cat got your tongue jeon?” you say, teasing him, “wish it did, shit–” he says shakily. his breathing now uneven.
"that's it babe," he manages to say as you begin to tease him with your tongue. licking up his shaft, around his sensitive head. soft kitten licks that are paired with long, slow stripes up his cock. “so fucking good with your mouth? aren’t you baby,” he says becoming much more vocal.
“shit thats it– good girl.” he groans pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
you increase pace for him, get him all moany and desperate. you continue working your way up and down his shaft, "shit," he husks as he hits the back of your throat, you whine, the sound vibrating around him.
“stop– stop,” jungkook says, pulling himself out of your mouth. strings of spit fall from his cock as he exits. “gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” he groans as you slightly giggle.
“my turn.” jungkook whispers against the shell of your ear, blowing hot air against it. suddenly he pulls you into a hot, wet, sloppy kiss, shoves his tongue into your mouth all the while his hands work the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor.
he trails down your body pressing kisses as he goes, stomach, hips, inner thighs. stops once he comes face to face with your panties, lets out a breathy moan when he sees how soiled they are.
“you’re so fucking wet,” he grunts, running his finger over the wet spot, making you shudder in response. “mhm. do something about it koo.” you whimper at the contact.
“oh i will baby.” he says as he pulls the garment to the side, and runs his fingers through your slick before slipping two of his long digits into your dripping cunt.
“fuck!” you moan, his fingers are long. intentional in the way they move. his middle finger hits all the right places as it pushes into you.
he curls it gently without needing to be told, he just knows.
"kook," you mewl, "right there– right there. fuckkkk." you moan.
"i know," he pants. "can you take one more baby hm?" all you could do is make yourself nod. he has you filled to the brim with pleasure. “you’re so tight, huh? aren't you? my little slut.” he says against the shell of your ear making you undoubtedly tighter. it’s almost embarrassing how tight it gets you. “you like that don’t you, baby?” he says increasing his pace.
“shit– yes, yes yes yes!” you moan out.
he leans down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as his hand slips between your bodies, his thumb lazily circling your clit in time with his thrusts. the lewd sounds of jungkooks fingers thrusting into you fill the room, mixed with your ragged breathing.
“koo– ‘m so close.” you whimper.
“i know baby, i know.” he says in response, as your body writhes beneath his touch.
with one final thrust of his fingers you feel shockwaves erupt in your stomach. your orgasm hits you, hot and blinding white stars blur your vision. “shit– koo, shittt!” you whimper. hand coming out to clamp around his, slowing his movements.
“gonna make you cum so hard on my cock baby.” he husks against your ear, and you just spread your legs wider. “please– koo, please do.” you whisper.
he lines his cock up with your entrance. slides his cock up through your folds, twice before slipping in, “fuck!” you moan out at the sensation of his shaft filling you in all the right places.
“feels so good y/n,” he moans as his thrusts in all the right places.
“yeah. that’s it. such a good girl taking my cock so well. aren’t you huh?”
“f-faster!” you beg, and he obliges. his cock starts hammering into you, hitting your sweet spot. making you mewl out.
his thrusts are deep, they have you clawing the sheets, the lewd sounds of his cock pistoning out of your clutching heat, dragging against your most sensitive places, the practiced rolls of his hips. suddenly, he switches the position; now you’re on top of him, riding his cock.
“shit! koo i cant– ‘s too much.” you whine. “shh,” he muttered against the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive marks he left there. “you can, and you will baby.” you lean down forward, your nails digging into his shoulders leaving red angry marks, using the leverage to bounce on him, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure passing through you.
his hands slide all over your body. feeling and stroking every part. before capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing your moans.
"you’re so fucking tight," he growls as your hips stuttered, thighs quivering as you ground down harder, feeling his cock throb inside you, your movements turning frantic, chasing that peak.
“yes yes yes yes!” you chant as you feel a wave of pleasure crashing over you.
“oh shit– fuck yes y/n squirt all over me.” he groans as his own high approaches.
he helps you ride out your high before slipping out and asking “shit where do you wan’ it.” he mewls out.
his dick is heavy in his hand, flushed and leaking, the head slick as he pumps his cock.
“stomach.” you groan.
“shittttt. yes y/n yes!” he says as he cums. painting your stomach white.
after he finished. jungkook collapsed onto his side, pulling you flush against his chest with a sigh. "you’re so fuckin’ perfect," he breathes against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “go to sleep angel.” he mutters.
you wake up to sunlight.
not the soft kind either. the kind that slices through the blinds and lands straight across your face like it has something to prove. you groan into the pillow, dragging the blanket higher and turning your head away from it. for a second you just lie there, half-awake, trying to remember why the ceiling looks unfamiliar.
then you hear typing.
slow at first, then steady. quiet but still loud enough in the morning silence that it pulls you the rest of the way awake. you blink a few times, squinting as the room comes into focus around you.
books stacked on the floor. a desk by the window. a chair with a hoodie slung over the back.
right.
you roll onto your side.
jungkook is sitting at his desk with his back to you, laptop open, glasses on, hair sticking up in every direction like he’s run his hands through it too many times. he’s wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt and he looks… suspiciously awake for this hour.
total nerd.
you push yourself up slightly, the blanket slipping down your shoulder. “you’re typing really loud,” you mumble.
the sound stops immediately.
jungkook turns in his chair so fast it almost squeaks. “oh— you’re awake.”
you squint at him. “unfortunately.”
he blinks like he’s making sure you’re actually conscious, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “did i wake you?”
“you existed too loudly,” you say, dropping your head back into the pillow.
he lets out a small laugh.
for a second neither of you say anything. the kind of pause where both people remember exactly what happened the night before but pretend they don’t.
you notice then that you’re wearing one of his shirts. it’s way too big, the sleeves swallowing your hands. you tug the blanket higher anyway.
jungkook stands up awkwardly like he just remembered he has legs. “uh… do you want coffee?”
you peek at him through half-lidded eyes. “you made coffee already?”
“i make coffee every morning.”
“of course you do.”
he crosses his arms. “what does that mean?”
“it means you’re predictable.”
he rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at his mouth. “i also have cereal,” he says after a second.
you raise an eyebrow.
“not the good kind though.”
now you sit up properly.
“define not the good kind.”
“the… healthy kind.”
you stare at him like he personally offended you. “you eat healthy cereal?”
“it’s granola.”
“that’s not cereal,” you say flatly. “that’s punishment.”
he laughs again, softer this time, rubbing the back of his neck like he doesn’t know where to look. you notice he keeps glancing at you and then quickly looking away again.
“relax,” you say, stretching your arms over your head. “you’re acting weird.”
“i’m not acting weird.”
“you’re acting like we committed a crime.”
“we didn’t–”
“you look like you’re about to apologize,” you cut in.
he looks immediately offended. “i wasn’t going to apologize.”
“good,” you say, sliding off the bed. “because that would’ve been embarrassing.”
the shirt falls mid-thigh when you stand. jungkook very obviously looks at the floor.
you smirk.
“nerd.”
“i’m not a nerd,” he mutters.
“you woke up early to do work.”
“i had an assignment.”
“you’re wearing glasses.”
“i need them to see.”
“you eat granola.”
he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “you’re impossible.”
you shrug. “yet here i am.”
he looks up at you then, and for a second the teasing drops. something softer slips through his expression, something a little too honest for a random morning. like he’s still processing the fact that you’re standing in his room wearing his shirt.
you catch the look immediately.
“what?” you ask.
he hesitates, then exhales and shakes his head. “nothing. just… coffee?”
you pretend to think about it for a moment.
“…fine.”
then you glance around the messy room again, nose wrinkling slightly. “but if that cereal is actually granola, i’m leaving.”
the cafe is loud in that normal campus way– chairs scraping, someone’s laptop blasting music through cheap headphones, the smell of burnt coffee drifting around the room. you drop into the empty chair at the table like you own it, tossing your bag onto the floor.
“you’re late,” megan says without looking up from her phone.
“no i’m not,” you reply, stealing one of her fries anyway.
jimin glances between the two of you over his laptop. “you’re twenty minutes late.”
“ok– time is subjective.”
“that’s not how—” jimin says but gets cut off.
“hi,” you cut in, bored already.
taehyung snorts into his drink.
danbi leans back in her chair, eyeing you carefully. “you look suspiciously calm today.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you say.
“it means you usually show up here ready to start a fight with someone,” she says. “and right now you’re just… sitting.”
“i’m always sitting.”
“not peacefully.” danbi mutters under her breath..
you shrug, reaching for the iced coffee in front of you like it’s yours even though it’s not. jimin makes a noise of protest but you ignore him.
a chair scrapes beside you.
jungkook drops into it.
he’s carrying two coffees, one of which he slides toward you without even looking.
you pause. then you take it.
megan slowly lowers her phone.
taehyung stops mid-sip.
danbi’s eyes narrow immediately.
“…okay,” she says slowly. “what the hell is that.”
you take a sip of the coffee like nothing is happening. “what?”
jungkook scratches the back of his neck, already looking a little regretful.
jimin blinks between the two of you. “did he just bring you coffee.”
“he brings people coffee all the time,” you say.
“no i don’t,” jungkook mumbles.
danbi leans forward, elbows on the table. “oh my god.”
“what.”
“no way.”
megan sits up straighter now, fully invested. “wait.”
taehyung points between the two of you. “are you guys—”
“no,” you say immediately.
“yes,” jungkook says at the same time.
the table goes silent.
you turn your head slowly toward him. “seriously?”
he shrugs helplessly. “what?”
“you couldn’t wait five seconds?”
“you literally just lied.”
“it wasn’t a lie,” you argue. “it was a– uh… i don’t know? a theatrical pause?”
danbi slaps a hand over her mouth. “holy shit.”
megan looks like she just got handed front row tickets to something. “since when.”
“it’s not a big deal,” you say, waving a hand like this conversation is already boring you.
“it’s absolutely a big deal,” taehyung says. “you two have been circling each other like idiots for months.”
jimin nods slowly. “i thought this was going to happen eventually but i assumed it would involve more yelling.”
“there was yelling,” jungkook says under his breath.
you kick his foot under the table.
danbi looks between you again, eyes wide. “wait wait wait. so you’re actually dating?”
you hesitate for a fraction of a second.
then you sigh like the question itself is annoying.
“…yeah.”
the table explodes.
megan grabs jimin’s arm. “i told you.”
“you said they’d hook up,” he replies.
“same difference.”
taehyung leans back in his chair, shaking his head. “this is insane.”
danbi points at jungkook. “you’ve liked her since freshman year.”
“danbi,” he warns.
“don’t danbi me.”
you glance at him.
“freshman year?” you repeat.
jungkook groans quietly. “can we not do this right now.”
you grin slightly.
“wow,” you say. “that’s embarrassing.”
“i regret confessing.” he groans, making everyone erupt in laughter
danbi is still staring like she’s watching a live documentary. “i can’t believe this actually happened.”
you shrug, sipping your coffee again.
“relax,” you say. “it’s not that serious.”
jungkook looks at you sideways.
“…you literally told me we’re dating yesterday.”
you pause.
then you roll your eyes.
“god, you’re such a nerd.”
but your foot nudges his under the table again anyway. and this time he nudges back.
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fresh off of a breakup and determined to prove you're completely fine, you decide the best solution is a night out and several bad decisions. unfortunately for you, jungkook, your friend, your biggest problem, and the guy who’s apparently liked you for years, decides that tonight is the perfect night to finally ask you on a date.
pairing jeon jungkook x fem!reader
genre friends to lovers. college au. angst. smut. drama. bratty oc. slow burn
warnings oc is really a brat, like shes so witty. smut. sub!dom dynamics. oral (m!receiving). unprotected sex (wrap it up). fingering. multiple positions. dirty talking. oc has a degradation kink. use of good girl. jk is obsessed with oc. multiple orgasms (fem!receiving).
sound track CUT MY HAIR — TATE MCRAE | series m.list
you know before he says anything. it’s in the way jackson doesn’t move when you walk in through his sleek apartment doors. no hand on your waist, no distracted kiss pressed to your temple while he scrolls through his phone. he’s just standing there, a few feet away, like he’s already decided you’re on your own. you notice it immediately, the invisible line he’s drawn between you, and you don’t like it.
“why do you look like you’re about to break up with me,” you say lightly, dropping your bag onto the chair and slipping off your heels. “did you do something stupid?”
he doesn’t answer. he just exhales, slow, steady, measured like he’s bracing himself.
“we need to talk,” he finally says with a sigh.
you tilt your head, unimpressed. you’ve heard him throw this phrase around multiple times over the past few months. “oh? fancy words. go on.”
he runs a hand through his hair, calm, too calm, and that’s worse. unsettling.
“okay,” you say, folding your arms. “talk.” another pause stretches long enough for your brain to fill in the blanks before he finally pushes the words out. “i don’t think this is working anymore.”
you blink at him, not reacting, letting the weight of the words sink in. “that’s not specific,” you say finally, keeping your voice level but sharp. “you’re breaking up with me, or just complaining?”
“us,” he says. “this. i can’t keep doing this.”
the way he says it is precise, measured, like he’s read it off a script he wrote for himself weeks ago. you blink again, testing it “you’re breaking up with me,” you repeat, almost to see if hearing it aloud will make it less real. “yeah,” he says.
the cold calm hits you harder than anger ever could. no shouting, no trembling, no dramatic gestures, just a decision he made before you even got here. your arms cross tighter, your chin tilts, and you ask the only thing left to ask “why.”
he exhales again, tired, not angry, not annoyed, just exhausted. “because everything feels like a fight. every conversation turns into something bigger than it has to be. i’m constantly walking on fuckin’ eggshells around my girlfriend.”
you let out a short and bitter laugh. “walking on eggshells? from me?” you challenge, stepping closer, voice rising but not breaking. “feels like i’m constantly failing,” he says. “like if i don’t react the way you want, it becomes a whole fucking thing.”
“a whole thing,” you repeat, smirking just enough to sting. “you mean me expecting you to care? oh my gosh how dare i expect my boyfriend to care about me!” he doesn’t flinch. “i do care,” he says.
“then why does it always feel like i have to always drag it out of you?” you snap, closing the distance, voice sharp. “why does it feel like i’m the only one actually trying?”
“because it’s constant,” he says, voice steady but with a flash of frustration. “it’s exhausting all the time.” exhausting. like loving you is hard like manual labor. you swallow, steady yourself, refusing to be the girl that crumbles in someone's living room, refusing to give him that victory.
“that’s funny,” you say, shrugging as though it’s nothing, “because you loved all this at the start. my energy. my drama. me actually having a spine y’know.”
he shakes his head slightly, a flicker of something in his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. “there’s a difference between passion and constant conflict,” he says. “i don’t feel good in this anymore.”
you scan his face, searching for a crack, a hesitation, anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. he’s sure. he’s calm. he’s done.
“so that’s it,” you say, voice sharper now, letting a bitter laugh escape, “you’re breaking up with me because i’m not easy?”
“i’m leaving because i feel like i’m failing all the time,” he replies. “nothing i do feels like enough unless it’s big, unless it’s dramatic, unless it matches your… energy.”
you laugh again, thin and sharp. “sorry your idea of effort is a one-letter response i guess.”
he closes his eyes briefly, frustration slipping through. “this is what i mean. you turn everything into a fight.”
“maybe because you act like you don’t care unless i force you to,” you fire back, voice cutting, “maybe if you actually fought for me once, i wouldn’t have to–”
the room goes quiet. he looks at you for a long moment. not angry. not annoyed. just done.
“i don’t want to fight for this anymore,” he says as his hand gestures toward you, and you know that’s it, that’s the real ending. not the word exhausting, not the complaints, but that simple, flat statement. you feel something crack under your ribs, but your pride stitches it up immediately.
the cold clarity hits you. “okay,” you say.
he blinks. “okay?”
“if that’s how you feel.”
you pick up your bag, sling it over your shoulder with deliberate precision, every step measured, every movement slow, like this is your choice too. part of you waits, because jackson always caves. but this time, he doesn’t.
“you’re really just… done,” you say, almost curious.
“yeah,” he repeats. no hesitation.
you walk to the door, hand resting on the handle a fraction too long. say something you fucking punk, you think. he doesn’t. “good luck finding someone easier,” you say instead, not looking back. “i’m sure she’ll be very peaceful.”
you step out of jackson’s building and the cold air hits your face immediately, sharp enough to wake you up a little. the street is glossy from earlier rain, neon lights bleeding into the wet asphalt. somewhere down the block a club is already loud, bass thumping through the pavement and up your legs. you pause on the sidewalk, bag sliding down your shoulder, and let out a slow breath.
you reach into your bag, pull out a cigarette, roll it between your fingers before lighting it. the first inhale burns slightly in your lungs. good. you lean back against the brick wall beside the entrance and exhale toward the street, watching the smoke disappear into the night traffic.
you’re not going home. absolutely not.
your phone is already in your hand before you really think about it. you open the group chat.
hey. wanna go out tn to the club? 20 minutes.
you hit send.
the reply from danbi comes almost instantly.
finally.
megan reacts with three fire emojis. jimin just sends omw.
you smile to yourself, taking another drag from the cigarette. the bass from the club down the street gets louder every time the door opens, people spilling out onto the sidewalk laughing too loudly, stumbling into cabs, pulling friends inside by the wrist.
by the time you reach the entrance, the line is short and moving fast. the bouncer barely glances at you before waving you through. warm air and music swallow you the second you step inside, lights flashing across a packed floor.
you scan the room automatically, mostly strangers, a few faces you recognize from campus– and then you see him near the bar.
jungkook.
he’s leaning against the counter with one elbow, black jacket pushed back slightly, drink in his hand while he listens to something taehyung is saying. he looks relaxed, like he’s been here a while. his hair falls messily over his forehead when he laughs at something, head tipping back for a second before he takes another sip.
you hadn’t known he was coming tonight.
for a moment you just watch him through the crowd, expression unreadable, cigarette still between your fingers. then he glances up. his eyes land on you almost immediately.
and he smiles like he expected to see you.
the club is loud enough to blur the lines of everything. bass crawling up your spine, lights flashing white and blue across bodies that move like they don’t have consequences. you’re dancing without really thinking about it, drink loose in your hand, hair sticking slightly to your neck from the heat. you feel good. reckless in a way.
across the room, jungkook has been watching you for the past ten minutes and pretending like he hasn’t.
he’s leaning against the bar with his friends, nodding at something one of them is saying, but his eyes keep darting back to you. every time you laugh. every time your hands slide up your own arms while you move. every time some random guy tries to slide into your space and you brush him off without even looking. he tells himself he’s being normal about it. but he’s absolutely not.
one of his friends follows his line of sight and snorts. “bro, you gonna keep staring or actually go ask her out?”
jungkook doesn’t answer. he just exhales slowly and keeps watching.
you spin once, slow and deliberate, not for him– but not not for him either. your eyes catch his across the crowd. he’s already looking: eyes dark, taking in your every movement. you expect him to glance away like usual, pretend he wasn’t. he doesn’t.
that’s new.
you hold his gaze a second longer than necessary, then turn back around like it doesn’t matter. like he doesn’t matter.
he pushes off the bar.
you feel him coming before you see him. you don’t turn. you take a slow sip of your drink instead, letting him walk into your space. let him choose this.
“thought you were ‘staying in tonight,’ huh? isn’t that what you told me?” his voice cuts through the music when he’s close enough.
you turn slowly, already smirking. “don’t start.”
he’s closer than usual, not friendly-close. his hands are in his pockets, you can smell the alcohol on him. “stop staring at me, you punk.” you mutter
“i’m not starting,” he says. “i’m observing.”
“thats not creepy at all,” you reply dragging out the last few syllables.
“i’m just concerned!” he corrects, eyes flicking briefly to the guy who’d been dancing near you earlier. “you literally attract idiots.” like jackso– he thinks before stopping himself
you laugh. “that sounds personal.”
“oh. it is.”
that makes you pause for half a second. you cock an eyebrow. “jealous?”
this is usually where he deflects. makes a joke. shoves your shoulder. changes the subject. however, this time he doesn’t.
“maybe,” he says.
you feel something warm and clammy brewing in your stomach– kinda like butterflies. and you immediately decide you don’t like that.
“wow,” you say lightly. “who are you and what did you do with jeon jungkook?”
he runs a hand through his hair, something restless in the movement. “i’m serious.” you cross your arms, cocking your head to the side, instinct kicking in because this feels dangerously close to ‘vulnerable’ territory. “about what?”
he looks at you properly now. not playful anymore.
“about liking you.”
the music keeps pounding, but it feels like it dropped a level in your ears. you blink at him. “don’t make that face,” he mutters.
“what face?” you ask.
“that one.”
you study him for signs of a joke. there aren’t any. “how long?” you ask. he hesitates. that’s how you know it’s real. “a while.”
“define ‘a while,’” you push.
he exhales slowly. “long enough, that watching you flirt with random guys in here is starting to get old.” you step closer on purpose. testing. invading his space the way you always do when you wanna test if someone will fold. he doesn’t. “so what,” you say, voice light but sharp, “you came over here to confess in the middle of a club?”
“no,” he says immediately. “i came over here to ask you out.” you blink again. “we literally hang out all the time–”
“not like that.” his jaw tightens slightly. “as a fuckin’ date princess. with me actually trying.” there’s something in the way he says ‘trying’ that makes your stomach flip in a really annoying way.
“and if i say no?” you ask. he shrugs, but it’s tight. “then i drop it. i’ll deal with it. but i’m done pretending i don’t feel it.” you poke his chest lightly. “you’ve liked me this whole time and didn’t say anything?”
“yeah.”
“that’s embarrassing.”
he huffs a small laugh. “i know.”
you let the silence stretch. watch him stand there, steady but tense, waiting. for once, he’s not in control of the mood. you are. and you like that. “where would you even take me?” you ask quietly.
his eyebrows lift slightly, surprised you didn’t shut it down immediately. “somewhere that isn’t this loud. somewhere where i can actually hear you fuckin’ talk to me.”
“bold of you to assume i’d even show up, y’know.”
“oh, you would,” he says.
“oh?” you challenge.
“yeah. because you’re curious.” his eyes soften just a little. “and because you’ve felt it too.” you don’t respond to that. instead, you just smirk slightly.
“fine.” you say, his breath catches almost invisibly.
“fine?”
“one date,” you clarify. “and if it’s boring, i’m leaving.” relief flashes across his face before it smoothens it into that familiar half-smirk. “it won’t be.”
“oh, you better hope not,” you say, already turning like the conversation hadn’t meant anything. like you hadn’t just agreed to a date in the middle of a crowded club.
jungkook reaches for your hand, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.
you don’t.
his fingers slide between yours easily, like he’s been thinking about doing it for a long time and finally decided to stop pretending otherwise. his grip isn’t tight, just warm.
you subconsciously compare it to when jackson would hold your hand. you don’t say anything about it, though. you just glance down at your joined hands for half a second before looking back up at him, expression unreadable, like it doesn’t affect you at all.
the campus lawn is loud in that lazy, unserious way it always is after classes. people pretending to study, music bleeding from someone’s speaker near the fountain, iced coffees sweating into the grass. you’re sitting between megan and jimin, legs stretched out, sunglasses on even though the sun keeps disappearing behind clouds.
taehyung drops down across from you with a groan. “had the worst sleep of my fuckin’ life, starting to think college isn’t worth it.”
“you say that every week,” megan replies without looking up from her phone.
“one day i’ll mean it.”
jimin hands you your drink. “extra sugar.”
“you understand me,” you say, tapping your cup against his.
jungkook shows up last, sliding into the space next to you like it’s automatic. his thigh brushes yours for a second before he settles. you don’t move. neither does he.
the air shifts. just slightly.
megan notices first. of course she does. her eyes flick between you two. “why is this weird?”
“what’s weird?” you ask immediately.
“yeah,” jungkook adds at the same time.
everyone freezes.
taehyung leans back on his hands, slow grin spreading. “that.”
you roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink like you don’t care. but you can feel jungkook’s shoulder against yours. steady. warm. distracting.
before anyone can start interrogating you, you turn to danbi. “actually, where did you disappear to last night?”
danbi chokes on nothing. “what?”
“at the club,” you say. “you were next to me and then you just vanished.”
“oh my god,” megan gasps. “yeah. you literally ghosted us.”
danbi looks suspiciously defensive. “i did not ghost you.”
“you did,” jimin says. “i saw you leave with someone.”
your head snaps toward her. “you what?”
taehyung sits up straighter. “this just got interesting.”
danbi groans. “it was not like that.”
“it was exactly like that,” jimin insists. “tall guy. black shirt. looked like he says ‘i don’t usually do this’ a lot.”
you stare at her. “danbi.”
she avoids your eyes. “we just went to get food.”
“at 1 a.m,” megan deadpans.
“people eat at 1 a.m!”
“did you at least get his name?” you press.
danbi hesitates.
the entire group screams.
“no way bro–” taehyung yells. “you’re irresponsible,” jimin says, shaking his head dramatically.
“i know his name,” she defends. “i just– just forgot it for a second.”
you laugh, leaning back on your hands. “unbelievable.”
jungkook glances at you, small smile tugging at his mouth. “you’re judging her like you weren’t equally chaotic.”
“i wasn’t chaotic,” you argue.
he raises an eyebrow. “you were dancing on a platform.”
you shurg
megan suddenly points between you two. “okay but can we circle back to why you’re sitting like that?”
you both look down.
your legs are almost touching. his hand is resting way too close to yours in the grass.
you subtly move your hand.
he subtly moves his closer again.
taehyung makes a noise like he’s watching a david attenborough documentary. “nature is healing.”
“shut up,” jungkook mutters.
danbi squints at him. “so. did you tell her?”
you shoot her a warning look.
too late.
jimin gasps. “awww, he told her?”
jungkook exhales sharply like he’s already tired. “i asked her on a date. it’s not a national announcement.”
“it kind of is,” taehyung says.
you keep your face neutral. “it’s just one date.”
“one date,” megan repeats slowly.
“don’t make it dramatic,” you say.
jungkook tilts his head slightly. “you were the one interrogating danbi five seconds ago.”
“deflection,” you reply smoothly.
he leans closer, voice low enough that only you hear it. “you said yes.”
your pulse jumps, but you shrug. “i said maybe.”
“you said friday.”
“did i?”
“don’t do that.”
you finally look at him properly. there’s no teasing in his eyes now. just that steady, quiet intensity that’s been there since the club.
across from you, jimin whispers loudly to taehyung, “they’re doing that eye thing again.”
“it’s sick,” taehyung agrees.
megan clutches danbi’s arm. “if this ruins the friend group, i’m blaming both of them.”
“it won’t,” you say quickly.
jungkook glances at you. “it won’t.”
and for a second, it feels less like teasing and more like a promise.
the conversation shifts back to classes and some campus event happening friday night, but the energy doesn’t fully settle. your knee brushes his. neither of you move. danbi keeps getting roasted about mystery guy. taehyung starts planning a fake double date. jimin threatens to third-wheel yours “for safety purposes.”
but underneath all of it, there’s something new. something everyone can feel. and when jungkook’s fingers lightly hook into yours in the grass where no one can really see, you don’t pull away.
you just squeeze back once.
your apartment is quiet in that heavy way that makes everything feel louder than it should. the faint hum of the fridge, the distant rush of traffic outside, the soft sound of your own breathing filling the space. you’re standing in front of the mirror with your arms loosely folded, staring at your reflection like you’re waiting for it to tell you something first.
the outfit isn’t complicated. black top. jeans. boots. the kind of thing you usually throw on without thinking. except you didn’t. you changed twice before this. the first outfit looked stupid, the second one gave off try-hard vibes, and this one sits somewhere in the middle of neutral & effortless. at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.
your fingers drift to the hem of your top, tugging it down slightly before you even realize what you’re doing. the second you notice, you stop and drop your hand like it burned you.
since when do you do that.
you lean a little closer to the mirror, brushing your thumb under your eye even though your makeup isn’t smudged. your reflection looks calm, put together in a way you don’t actually feel.
“it’s just a date,” you murmur quietly, more to the empty room than to yourself.
the words hang there for a moment.
just a date.
you’ve done wayyyyyyy worse things with less thought.
your gaze drifts to the dresser where your phone sits face down, the room feeling too still again. without thinking you reach for the lip gloss beside it and swipe another layer across your lips.
then you pause.
you already put it on.
you set it back down slowly, staring at your reflection again.
this is ridiculous.
you’ve never stood in front of a mirror like this over a guy before. never cared this much about how something might go. if you looked right. if the night would be awkward. if you were doing something wrong before it even started. with jackson, you just showed up. you never second-guessed it. never stood there wondering if he’d look at you a certain way or if the night would mean something different by the time it was over.
you stare at yourself a little longer, the quiet making your thoughts louder than usual. because the truth is, the nervousness isn’t really about the date. it’s about the possibility that it might actually matter and could possibly ruin your friend group (though– that probably wont happen).
the thought irritates you immediately.
you straighten up, annoyed with yourself. “get over yourself,” you mutter under your breath. it’s one night. one date. not a relationship, not a decision, not anything permanent.
you grab your bag from the chair and sling it over your shoulder like that settles it. your phone buzzes against the dresser.
the sound makes your stomach tighten before you even pick it up.
jungkook:
i’m outside 🤍
the apartment door clicks shut behind you with a dull sound that echoes down the hallway. for a second you just stand there, keys in your hand, bag hanging off your shoulder, like the building itself is waiting to see if you’re going to turn around and go back upstairs.
you don’t.
you sigh quietly through your nose and start walking.
the hallway lights are dim and yellow, your boots muffled against the carpet as you head toward the elevator. the ride down feels slower than it should. the metal walls reflect a warped version of you back, and you glance at it for half a second before looking away like you caught someone staring.
the doors slide open into the lobby.
cool evening air slips in through the glass doors at the front, carrying the faint sounds of the street outside– cars passing, distant music from somewhere down the block.
and he’s there.
jungkook is leaning against the hood of his car just outside the building, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, head tilted down at his phone. the streetlight above him catches the edge of his hair when he shifts.
he looks comfortable.
too comfortable.
like this isn’t a big deal.
which you decide annoys you.
you push the door open and step outside.
the sound makes him look up.
his eyes land on you right away, and for a second he just stares. not in an obvious way, but enough that you notice the way he straightens a little without meaning to, pushing off the hood of the car.
you stop a few feet away from him, crossing your arms loosely.
“you’ve been staring at your phone this whole time?” you ask.
he slips it into his pocket. “i’ve been waiting.”
“dramatic.”
“you’re five minutes late.”
“five minutes is basically early,” you reply. “relax.”
his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.
his eyes flick over you quickly, taking in your outfit in that quiet way people think isn’t obvious.
you tilt your head.
“done scanning?”
“i wasn’t scanning.”
“you absolutely were.”
“just confirming you didn’t ghost me.”
you scoff. “please. i don’t ghost people.”
he raises an eyebrow.
“…often,” you correct.
that earns you a quiet laugh.
you nod toward the car. “so where are we going?”
“you’ll see.”
you groan immediately. “that’s the worst answer possible.”
“you’ll live.”
he walks around the car and opens the passenger door for you before you can reach for it yourself.
you stop.
look at the door.
then at him.
“what is this?” you say. “are you trying to impress me?”
“get in the car.”
“you didn’t answer the question.”
“get in the car,” he repeats, already smiling. you slide into the seat with an exaggerated sigh. “this better not be boring.” you say in a dramatic way, “you agreed to the date without knowing where we’re going,” he replies.
“that was your first mistake.” he adds
he shuts the door and walks around the front of the car. a moment later he slides into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. soft music fills the car as he pulls away from the curb.
for a few minutes neither of you say much.
the city moves past the windows– streetlights reflecting across wet pavement, people walking along the sidewalks, the glow of restaurants and bars lighting up the corners of intersections.
you lean your head back against the seat and glance over at him.
“you’re being weird.” you say
“how so?” he asks
“you’re too calm.” you say– voice almost a whisper
he glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. “should i be panicking?”
“maybe a little.” you say.
“why?” he says cocking his head to the side.
“because you just asked out someone you’ve apparently liked for ‘a while,’” you say, making air quotes. “that’s embarrassing.”
he laughs under his breath.
“you still said yes.”
“i said one date.”
“still counts.”
you roll your eyes and look back out the window.
a few minutes later he turns onto a quieter street lined with smaller restaurants, warm yellow lights spilling across the sidewalk.
he pulls into a parking spot near the corner and shuts off the engine.
you glance around.
“okay,” you admit slowly. “this isn’t terrible.”
“high praise babe.” he laughs
“don’t get used to it.”
you both step out of the car, cool night air brushing against your skin. the restaurant he leads you toward is small and warm-looking, tucked between a bookstore and a café.
soft music spills out when the door opens.
inside it smells like grilled food and something sweet.
you follow the host to a small table near the window. jungkook pulls your chair out before you can sit.
you pause again.
“you’re doing a lot tonight.”
“i’m being normal.”
“this isn’t normal for you.”
“it’s a date.”
you narrow your eyes slightly but sit down anyway. once the waiter hands you menus, you barely glance at yours before setting it aside.
jungkook notices immediately.
“you didn’t read anything.”
“i’m deciding by vibes.”
“that’s not how menus work.”
“watch me.”
he shakes his head, amused.
for a moment the restaurant noise fills the space between you– quiet conversation from nearby tables, clinking glasses, the low hum of music overhead.
then you lean forward slightly.
“so,” you say. “you’ve liked me this whole time.”
he sighs softly. “we’re doing this already?”
“i’m curious.”
“you called it embarrassing.”
“it is.”
“and you still came.”
you shrug one shoulder. “don’t read into it.”
“too late.”
you study him for a moment.
“why me?” you ask suddenly.
he looks confused. “what?”
“there are easier girls,” you say bluntly.
“i know.”
“so why pick the difficult one?”
he holds your gaze for a second.
“because it’s you.”
the answer comes out simple. immediate.
too immediate.
you look down at the table before you can stop yourself, fiddling with the edge of your napkin.
then you look back up, expression returning to normal like nothing happened.
“don’t get sentimental on me,” you say.
he smiles slightly.
“you asked.”
the waiter comes back before either of you say anything else, setting two glasses of water down on the table.
you lean back in your chair while jungkook orders something without even looking at the menu anymore, like he’d already decided before you even got here.
the waiter turns to you.
you glance down at the menu for exactly two seconds.
“that,” you say, pointing randomly.
the waiter nods politely and walks off.
jungkook watches the entire interaction.
“…you didn’t read a single thing,” he says.
“i skimmed through the menu!” you say, getting slightly defensive.
“you pointed.” he says, slightly amused.
“same thing.”
he shakes his head, a quiet laugh slipping out as he reaches for his glass.
the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavier now. something about the earlier conversation still lingers between you.
you tap your fingers lightly against your glass.
“so,” you say casually, like the thought just crossed your mind. “how long is ‘a while’?”
jungkook glances up at you.
“you’re really not letting that go,” he says.
“nope.”
he leans back slightly, studying you for a moment like he’s debating how honest he wants to be.
“…a few months,” he says finally.
you blink.
“that’s it?”
“that’s a long time.”
“not really.”
“for liking someone you see almost every day?” he says. “yeah, it is.”
you tilt your head.
“so you’re telling me you’ve just been sitting there silently liking me for months.”
“pretty much.”
you snort.
“that’s embarrassing.”
“you’ve said that already.”
“because it is.”
he takes a sip of water before setting the glass down again.
“you’re enjoying this a little too much.” he says
“i am.”
his eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a small smile at the corner of his mouth.
“you’re so mean.” he says in that mocking tone he always uses.
“you like it.”
he exhales through his nose. “…unfortunately.”
you grin faintly. the waiter returns with your drinks, placing them down before disappearing again.
you take a slow sip, watching jungkook over the rim of your glass. he notices immediately.
“what.” he asks
“nothin.” you say, slightly giggling
“you’re staring.”
“i’m just… thinking.”
“that’s dangerous.”
you ignore that.
“you could’ve said something earlier,” you say. “saved yourself the whole ‘watching me flirt with other guys’ problem.”
his jaw tightens slightly.
“i wasn’t planning on saying anything.”
“so what changed?”
he taps his fingers lightly against the table.
“…the club,” he says.
you raise an eyebrow.
“watching three different guys try to get your number in ten minutes,” he says.
you shrug.
“oh– so your the jealous type?”
he laughs quietly, shaking his head.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and yet here you are.”
a moment later the food arrives, plates sliding onto the table.
you glance down at yours.
“…okay, this actually looks good.”
“told you so.” he says, flashing you that cocky smile.
“don’t get cocky.”
you take a bite, chewing thoughtfully. jungkook watches your reaction.
you pause. “…okay,” you admit. “this is good.”
“so good.” you add
his shoulders relax slightly.
“glad you approve.”
“don’t make it weird.”
he chuckles.
for a few minutes you both eat, conversation drifting into smaller things—classes, a professor you both hate, taehyung doing something stupid earlier in the week.
the tension softens. until your foot accidentally brushes his under the table. both of you freeze. your instinct is to pull away immediately, but instead you leave it there for half a second longer than necessary.
then you move your foot back. jungkook slowly glances up at you.
“…that was an accident,” you say quickly. “sure,” he says, a quiet laugh slipping out.
“don’t start,” you say.
“i didn’t say anything,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you were about to,” you reply.
his mouth curves slightly like he knows you’re right.
“you’re so defensive,” he says. “it’s so cute.”
“i’m observant,” you say.
he leans back in his chair again, watching you with that same quiet way.
you notice immediately and narrow your eyes at him. “stop doing that,” you say.
“doing what,” he asks.
“looking at me like that,” you say.
“like what,” he says, clearly amused.
“like you’re analyzing me,” you say.
“i’m not analyzing you,” he says.
“you absolutely are,” you reply.
he shrugs lightly.
“i just like looking at you,” he says.
the words come out so casually that it takes your brain a second to process them.
you blink at him.
then you immediately recover, leaning back slightly in your chair.
“you’re laying it on thick tonight,” you say.
“i’m being honest,” he says.
“dangerous move,” you reply.
“you’re still here,” he says.
you roll your eyes but look down at your plate so he doesn’t see the faint warmth creeping up your neck.
a few minutes later the waiter comes back to clear the plates.
before you can even look at the bill, jungkook reaches for it.
you notice instantly.
“don’t,” you say.
he pauses and looks up at you.
“don’t what,” he asks.
“pay for it,” you say.
“why not,” he asks.
“because i can pay for my own food,” you say.
“i know,” he says calmly.
“then let me,” you say.
he studies you for a moment before shaking his head slightly.
“you can get the next one,” he says.
you blink.
“next one?” you ask.
“yeah,” he says.
you lean back in your chair and cross your arms.
“bold of you to assume there’s a next one,” you say.
“you’ll go,” he says.
“confidence is dangerous,” you reply.
“i’m willing to risk it,” he says.
you hold his gaze for a second.
then you look away.
“…we’ll see,” you say.
he smiles like that was exactly the answer he expected.
a few minutes later you both step outside together.
the night air feels cooler now, and the street is quieter while the warm restaurant lights glow behind you.
you shove your hands into your jacket pockets while walking toward the car.
for a moment neither of you say anything.
jungkook unlocks the car, then glances over at you before either of you get in.
“…hey,” he says.
you look over at him.
“what,” you say.
he hesitates for a second like he’s choosing his words.
“do you wanna come over to my apartment for a bit?” he asks.
you blink at him.
“your apartment?” you say.
“yeah,” he says.
you narrow your eyes slightly.
“why,” you ask.
he leans casually against the car door.
“we could hang out,” he says. “watch something. talk. whatever.”
the hallway outside his apartment is quiet when you step in, the door shutting behind you with a soft click as you glance around the apartment like you’re casually inspecting it even though you can feel his eyes on you the entire time.
“so this is it,” you say, looking around the living room.
“disappointed?” he asks, leaning back against the door.
you shrug slightly. “i expected worse.”
he lets out a quiet laugh. “rude,” he says, pushing off the door and following you farther inside while you glance down the short hallway that leads deeper into the apartment.
“which door leads to your room?” you ask.
“the one at the end,” he says.
you nod like the information means nothing, then you start walking toward it anyway, and jungkook lets out another quiet laugh behind you.
“you’re very subtle,” he says.
“don’t start,” you reply.
“i’m just saying,” he says as you reach the door at the end of the hallway and push it open.
the room is dim except for a small lamp beside the bed, warm light filling the space as you step inside and turn around just as jungkook stops in the doorway behind you, watching you.
for a second neither of you says anything.
the air suddenly feels heavier now that you’re alone.
you cross your arms loosely. “so.”
“so,” he repeats, pushing off the doorframe and walking a little closer until he’s standing a step away from you.
“you walked straight into my bedroom,” he says.
“it’s a room,” you reply.
“my room,” he says.
you roll your eyes slightly. “don’t make it dramatic.”
he stops close enough now that you can see the faint smirk on his face, his head tilting slightly as he studies you the same way he did earlier.
“you’re nervous,” he says.
“i’m not,” you say immediately.
“you’re talking a lot,” he says.
“i always talk a lot.”
he hums quietly like he doesn’t believe you. “you can leave if you want,” he says after a second.
you scoff softly. “please.”
“just saying,” he replies, and for a moment neither of you moves.
then jungkook lifts his hand slowly and hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up toward him.
you don’t pull away.
his eyes flick down to your mouth before he looks back at you.
“still think liking you is embarrassing?” he murmurs.
“…maybe,” you say quietly.
the corner of his mouth lifts before he leans in, the kiss slow at first like he’s giving you a chance to stop him if you want to.
you don’t.
your hand catches the front of his shirt as the kiss deepens slightly, and he lets out a quiet breath against your mouth while his hand settles at your waist, pulling you a little closer.
when he finally pulls back, the space between you is barely there anymore.
he looks down at you for a second.
“…so,” he says softly.
you raise an eyebrow. “so what.”
a small smirk pulls at his mouth.
“still embarrassing?” he asks.
you stare at him for a moment before shrugging slightly.
“a little,” you say giggling.
in less than a second, he dropped you on top of his plush bedding, climbing on top of you and pressing his soft lips to yours. you gasp up into his mouth, but he simply didn’t give you any time to process, simply feeling your body melt into his covers and accept the attack, a microscopic moan leaving you. his tongue invades your mouth, fighting for dominance.
when you both pull away to catch your breath your heart feels like its about to fucking escape out of your body– his lips pink and swollen and yours probably are too, but that doesn't stop him from kissing you again.
his lips trail down your neck, painting your skin in vibrant blues and purples. causing you to moan out and tug on his hair. your hands instinctively fist at his shirt. his grip tightens on your waist pulling you flush against him.
heat spreads throughout your body fast, wetness pooling right where you want him most, but he’d made you beg for that. his fingers trace the natural curve of your body. ‘s pleased when he sees you slightly shudder from his touch. when you reach out for the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, he catches your wrist, roughly pinning them above your head with a sly smirk. “patience my love,” he coos.
“normally such a brat, aren’t you baby? hm? what happened?” he asks as his hands slip under your shirt, feeling your soft skin. “fuck,” you whimper out, "i hate you," you say, though your voice is with need, that says the exact opposite. your hips now instinctively bucking up into his, making the outline of his cock now very visible through his pants.
much to jungkooks surprise, you slip him out of his trousers, the head is flushed and leaking, fat and heavy on your tongue when you wrap your lips around him. he twitches when you sink lower, when you suck slow and mean, letting spit pool under your tongue so it drips down your chin. he sounds like he might actually cry.
“cat got your tongue jeon?” you say, teasing him, “wish it did, shit–” he says shakily. his breathing now uneven.
"that's it babe," he manages to say as you begin to tease him with your tongue. licking up his shaft, around his sensitive head. soft kitten licks that are paired with long, slow stripes up his cock. “so fucking good with your mouth? aren’t you baby,” he says becoming much more vocal.
“shit thats it– good girl.” he groans pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
you increase pace for him, get him all moany and desperate. you continue working your way up and down his shaft, "shit," he husks as he hits the back of your throat, you whine, the sound vibrating around him.
“stop– stop,” jungkook says, pulling himself out of your mouth. strings of spit fall from his cock as he exits. “gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” he groans as you slightly giggle.
“my turn.” jungkook whispers against the shell of your ear, blowing hot air against it. suddenly he pulls you into a hot, wet, sloppy kiss, shoves his tongue into your mouth all the while his hands work the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor.
he trails down your body pressing kisses as he goes, stomach, hips, inner thighs. stops once he comes face to face with your panties, lets out a breathy moan when he sees how soiled they are.
“you’re so fucking wet,” he grunts, running his finger over the wet spot, making you shudder in response. “mhm. do something about it koo.” you whimper at the contact.
“oh i will baby.” he says as he pulls the garment to the side, and runs his fingers through your slick before slipping two of his long digits into your dripping cunt.
“fuck!” you moan, his fingers are long. intentional in the way they move. his middle finger hits all the right places as it pushes into you.
he curls it gently without needing to be told, he just knows.
"kook," you mewl, "right there– right there. fuckkkk." you moan.
"i know," he pants. "can you take one more baby hm?" all you could do is make yourself nod. he has you filled to the brim with pleasure. “you’re so tight, huh? aren't you? my little slut.” he says against the shell of your ear making you undoubtedly tighter. it’s almost embarrassing how tight it gets you. “you like that don’t you, baby?” he says increasing his pace.
“shit– yes, yes yes yes!” you moan out.
he leans down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as his hand slips between your bodies, his thumb lazily circling your clit in time with his thrusts. the lewd sounds of jungkooks fingers thrusting into you fill the room, mixed with your ragged breathing.
“koo– ‘m so close.” you whimper.
“i know baby, i know.” he says in response, as your body writhes beneath his touch.
with one final thrust of his fingers you feel shockwaves erupt in your stomach. your orgasm hits you, hot and blinding white stars blur your vision. “shit– koo, shittt!” you whimper. hand coming out to clamp around his, slowing his movements.
“gonna make you cum so hard on my cock baby.” he husks against your ear, and you just spread your legs wider. “please– koo, please do.” you whisper.
he lines his cock up with your entrance. slides his cock up through your folds, twice before slipping in, “fuck!” you moan out at the sensation of his shaft filling you in all the right places.
“feels so good y/n,” he moans as his thrusts in all the right places.
“yeah. that’s it. such a good girl taking my cock so well. aren’t you huh?”
“f-faster!” you beg, and he obliges. his cock starts hammering into you, hitting your sweet spot. making you mewl out.
his thrusts are deep, they have you clawing the sheets, the lewd sounds of his cock pistoning out of your clutching heat, dragging against your most sensitive places, the practiced rolls of his hips. suddenly, he switches the position; now you’re on top of him, riding his cock.
“shit! koo i cant– ‘s too much.” you whine. “shh,” he muttered against the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive marks he left there. “you can, and you will baby.” you lean down forward, your nails digging into his shoulders leaving red angry marks, using the leverage to bounce on him, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure passing through you.
his hands slide all over your body. feeling and stroking every part. before capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing your moans.
"you’re so fucking tight," he growls as your hips stuttered, thighs quivering as you ground down harder, feeling his cock throb inside you, your movements turning frantic, chasing that peak.
“yes yes yes yes!” you chant as you feel a wave of pleasure crashing over you.
“oh shit– fuck yes y/n squirt all over me.” he groans as his own high approaches.
he helps you ride out your high before slipping out and asking “shit where do you wan’ it.” he mewls out.
his dick is heavy in his hand, flushed and leaking, the head slick as he pumps his cock.
“stomach.” you groan.
“shittttt. yes y/n yes!” he says as he cums. painting your stomach white.
after he finished. jungkook collapsed onto his side, pulling you flush against his chest with a sigh. "you’re so fuckin’ perfect," he breathes against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “go to sleep angel.” he mutters.
you wake up to sunlight.
not the soft kind either. the kind that slices through the blinds and lands straight across your face like it has something to prove. you groan into the pillow, dragging the blanket higher and turning your head away from it. for a second you just lie there, half-awake, trying to remember why the ceiling looks unfamiliar.
then you hear typing.
slow at first, then steady. quiet but still loud enough in the morning silence that it pulls you the rest of the way awake. you blink a few times, squinting as the room comes into focus around you.
books stacked on the floor. a desk by the window. a chair with a hoodie slung over the back.
right.
you roll onto your side.
jungkook is sitting at his desk with his back to you, laptop open, glasses on, hair sticking up in every direction like he’s run his hands through it too many times. he’s wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt and he looks… suspiciously awake for this hour.
total nerd.
you push yourself up slightly, the blanket slipping down your shoulder. “you’re typing really loud,” you mumble.
the sound stops immediately.
jungkook turns in his chair so fast it almost squeaks. “oh— you’re awake.”
you squint at him. “unfortunately.”
he blinks like he’s making sure you’re actually conscious, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “did i wake you?”
“you existed too loudly,” you say, dropping your head back into the pillow.
he lets out a small laugh.
for a second neither of you say anything. the kind of pause where both people remember exactly what happened the night before but pretend they don’t.
you notice then that you’re wearing one of his shirts. it’s way too big, the sleeves swallowing your hands. you tug the blanket higher anyway.
jungkook stands up awkwardly like he just remembered he has legs. “uh… do you want coffee?”
you peek at him through half-lidded eyes. “you made coffee already?”
“i make coffee every morning.”
“of course you do.”
he crosses his arms. “what does that mean?”
“it means you’re predictable.”
he rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at his mouth. “i also have cereal,” he says after a second.
you raise an eyebrow.
“not the good kind though.”
now you sit up properly.
“define not the good kind.”
“the… healthy kind.”
you stare at him like he personally offended you. “you eat healthy cereal?”
“it’s granola.”
“that’s not cereal,” you say flatly. “that’s punishment.”
he laughs again, softer this time, rubbing the back of his neck like he doesn’t know where to look. you notice he keeps glancing at you and then quickly looking away again.
“relax,” you say, stretching your arms over your head. “you’re acting weird.”
“i’m not acting weird.”
“you’re acting like we committed a crime.”
“we didn’t–”
“you look like you’re about to apologize,” you cut in.
he looks immediately offended. “i wasn’t going to apologize.”
“good,” you say, sliding off the bed. “because that would’ve been embarrassing.”
the shirt falls mid-thigh when you stand. jungkook very obviously looks at the floor.
you smirk.
“nerd.”
“i’m not a nerd,” he mutters.
“you woke up early to do work.”
“i had an assignment.”
“you’re wearing glasses.”
“i need them to see.”
“you eat granola.”
he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “you’re impossible.”
you shrug. “yet here i am.”
he looks up at you then, and for a second the teasing drops. something softer slips through his expression, something a little too honest for a random morning. like he’s still processing the fact that you’re standing in his room wearing his shirt.
you catch the look immediately.
“what?” you ask.
he hesitates, then exhales and shakes his head. “nothing. just… coffee?”
you pretend to think about it for a moment.
“…fine.”
then you glance around the messy room again, nose wrinkling slightly. “but if that cereal is actually granola, i’m leaving.”
the cafe is loud in that normal campus way– chairs scraping, someone’s laptop blasting music through cheap headphones, the smell of burnt coffee drifting around the room. you drop into the empty chair at the table like you own it, tossing your bag onto the floor.
“you’re late,” megan says without looking up from her phone.
“no i’m not,” you reply, stealing one of her fries anyway.
jimin glances between the two of you over his laptop. “you’re twenty minutes late.”
“ok– time is subjective.”
“that’s not how—” jimin says but gets cut off.
“hi,” you cut in, bored already.
taehyung snorts into his drink.
danbi leans back in her chair, eyeing you carefully. “you look suspiciously calm today.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you say.
“it means you usually show up here ready to start a fight with someone,” she says. “and right now you’re just… sitting.”
“i’m always sitting.”
“not peacefully.” danbi mutters under her breath..
you shrug, reaching for the iced coffee in front of you like it’s yours even though it’s not. jimin makes a noise of protest but you ignore him.
a chair scrapes beside you.
jungkook drops into it.
he’s carrying two coffees, one of which he slides toward you without even looking.
you pause. then you take it.
megan slowly lowers her phone.
taehyung stops mid-sip.
danbi’s eyes narrow immediately.
“…okay,” she says slowly. “what the hell is that.”
you take a sip of the coffee like nothing is happening. “what?”
jungkook scratches the back of his neck, already looking a little regretful.
jimin blinks between the two of you. “did he just bring you coffee.”
“he brings people coffee all the time,” you say.
“no i don’t,” jungkook mumbles.
danbi leans forward, elbows on the table. “oh my god.”
“what.”
“no way.”
megan sits up straighter now, fully invested. “wait.”
taehyung points between the two of you. “are you guys—”
“no,” you say immediately.
“yes,” jungkook says at the same time.
the table goes silent.
you turn your head slowly toward him. “seriously?”
he shrugs helplessly. “what?”
“you couldn’t wait five seconds?”
“you literally just lied.”
“it wasn’t a lie,” you argue. “it was a– uh… i don’t know? a theatrical pause?”
danbi slaps a hand over her mouth. “holy shit.”
megan looks like she just got handed front row tickets to something. “since when.”
“it’s not a big deal,” you say, waving a hand like this conversation is already boring you.
“it’s absolutely a big deal,” taehyung says. “you two have been circling each other like idiots for months.”
jimin nods slowly. “i thought this was going to happen eventually but i assumed it would involve more yelling.”
“there was yelling,” jungkook says under his breath.
you kick his foot under the table.
danbi looks between you again, eyes wide. “wait wait wait. so you’re actually dating?”
you hesitate for a fraction of a second.
then you sigh like the question itself is annoying.
“…yeah.”
the table explodes.
megan grabs jimin’s arm. “i told you.”
“you said they’d hook up,” he replies.
“same difference.”
taehyung leans back in his chair, shaking his head. “this is insane.”
danbi points at jungkook. “you’ve liked her since freshman year.”
“danbi,” he warns.
“don’t danbi me.”
you glance at him.
“freshman year?” you repeat.
jungkook groans quietly. “can we not do this right now.”
you grin slightly.
“wow,” you say. “that’s embarrassing.”
“i regret confessing.” he groans, making everyone erupt in laughter
danbi is still staring like she’s watching a live documentary. “i can’t believe this actually happened.”
you shrug, sipping your coffee again.
“relax,” you say. “it’s not that serious.”
jungkook looks at you sideways.
“…you literally told me we’re dating yesterday.”
you pause.
then you roll your eyes.
“god, you’re such a nerd.”
but your foot nudges his under the table again anyway. and this time he nudges back.
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