agustdsluv

[agustdsluv]

Heyy i loved your JK fic of Gameboy!! Since it came to your mind from that song, perhaps, can you write more fics based on other songs??? Like similar to their lyrics…. Such as: Weeknd’s Is There Someone Else, Ariana Grande’s Breakup with your Girlfriend, Selena Gomez’s Heart wants what it wants ETC

I was actually thinking of starting a series based on different songs and l have something that l wrote based on Die For You by The Weeknd but I’m gonna try to finish the gameboy series before l start writing anything else!! Thank you for reading!

[agustdsluv]

🎮 PRESS START | 🕹️ PART 4. GAME OVER (YOU WIN)

summary | after a night of blurred lines and quiet confessions, Y/N wakes up to find Jungkook still there—in her bed, in her space, and maybe in her heart a little more than she’s ready to admit. she has to figure out her feelings before starting something with him. what follows?

“now I’m somebody you don’t wanna lose”

Inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | academic rivals to lovers, college AU, romantic comedy, slow burn but it’s sizzling, fluff with a hint of spice, slice-of-life relationship feels, mutual pining turned soft confession, comfort & banter casual swearing, kissing + tension + a lot of soft touches, competitive flirting turning into real feelings, you will probably want a Jungkook of your own after this (me too)

word count: 1.3k

notes | I finally got the time to make a form for the tag list so if you want to be added to the tag list, fill out the form below. This form will also be available on my master list.join tag list!

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

🕹️Part 4 - “GAME OVER (YOU WIN)”

Sunlight spilled through the half-closed blinds, striping the floor in golden lines. The soft buzz of the city was just beginning to creep into Y/N’s apartment.

But she wasn’t paying attention to any of that.

Because Jungkook was in her bed.

Half-asleep. Hair messy. T-shirt hitched slightly up his stomach. One arm slung over his eyes, the other resting palm-up between them.

Still here.

Still real.

Still hers.

Y/N blinked slowly, brushing her fingers across the edge of the blanket like she was making sure she wasn’t dreaming.

The night before was still a blur of kisses, teasing glances, and quiet moments curled into each other on the couch. At some point, she must’ve dozed off—head on his chest, legs tangled.

And now…

There was something intimate about seeing him like this. Jungkook, the campus golden boy. Her loudest rival. Her favorite fight. Completely unguarded in her sheets, breathing slow and even like he belonged here.

He hadn’t left.

A quiet warmth bloomed in her chest.

There was something almost domestic about it—the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the soft creak of the ceiling fan above them, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to her pillowcase. Like this wasn’t the first time. Like maybe it wouldn’t be the last.

She wasn’t used to this.

To waking up with someone and not wanting to run.

He stirred.

Yawned.

Then peeked at her from under his arm, eyes crinkling with the softest, sleepiest smile.

“Mornin’.”

Her heart did a full somersault.

“You stayed.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice still rough. “Wasn’t gonna leave. You drool in your sleep, by the way.”

“I do not.”

He grinned. “Didn’t say I minded.”

She smacked him with a pillow. He caught it midair and tugged it right out of her hands with a smirk.

“I could kill you,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes.

“But then who would make you boba later?”

She froze.

“You’re still taking me out?”

He blinked. “Uh, yeah? Unless you changed your mind about wanting to be seen with me in public.”

Y/N sat up, brushing hair from her face. “Just making sure. Some guys get weird after—”

Jungkook didn’t let her finish.

He leaned forward, grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. Slowly.

Like she was precious.

“I’m not some guy,” he said.

She stared at him. Heart loud. Mind quiet.

“No,” she said. “You’re Jungkook.”

“And you’re mine,” he said so casually she nearly blacked out.

He meant it. She could see it in his eyes—none of the cocky smirks or half-dared jokes. Just sincerity. Like claiming her wasn’t a joke. Like it was a fact.

And somehow, it felt less like falling and more like arriving.

They got boba two hours later.

Y/N wore a sweatshirt he’d left in her apartment months ago (a silent win). Jungkook wore his usual chaos outfit: ripped jeans, a tank top with his jacket over it, and about five too many rings.

He held the door open like a boyfriend. Let her order first. Paid without asking. Then leaned across the table like he’d been waiting all week to watch her sip through a straw.

“Didn’t think this would actually happen,” she admitted.

“What, us?”

She nodded.

Jungkook tilted his head. “Why not?”

“You’re you.”

He smiled. “And?”

“And you flirt like it’s a sport but never made a move.”

He laughed. “That’s because I didn’t know if you liked me back.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been obsessed with you since you beat me at Mario Kart the first time,” she said, slurping her drink. “It was infuriating. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Same,” he muttered. “You trashed me and smirked like you’d just claimed my soul.”

“Maybe I did.”

“You definitely did.”

Their fingers brushed over the table, then stayed there—linked loosely. She traced her thumb across his rings. He let her.

It was still new. Still surreal.

But it felt right.

Like all the arguments, all the flirting, all the tension—had just been the long, slow way of getting here.

“I kept thinking you hated me,” he said, voice soft.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I was obsessed.”

“I was in denial.”

They laughed at the same time. And then sat in silence, a comfortable one, sipping their drinks as if the last few years of unresolved tension had just clicked into place.

When they left the café, he took her hand without asking.

And when they paused on the sidewalk, laughing at something dumb she said, he stepped in close—hands on her hips, forehead tilted to hers—and whispered:

“You keep pushing my buttons.”

She grinned.

“That’s the whole point.”

He kissed her right there - like no one else mattered.

Slow and deep, like he meant to memorize the shape of her mouth, the softness of her lower lip, the way her breath caught for half a second before she melted into him. His hands tightened at her waist, pulling her just a little closer, like he couldn’t help it. Like her gravity was something he couldn’t fight anymore.

She curled her fingers in the fabric of his jacket, anchoring herself to him as their lips moved in sync, unhurried but hungry. It felt like finally. Like tension unraveling and secrets spilled and all the times they almost had this crashing into now.

The city blurred around them. Horns honked. A bus rumbled by. Somewhere, a dog barked. But all she could feel was the warmth of his lips, the way his thumb traced a soft line across her waist, the way he smiled into the kiss like he’d been waiting years for this moment.

But none of it mattered.

Not when his thumb was brushing soft, dizzying circles against the small of her back. Not when her fingers slid up his chest and curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him down into her like she’d waited forever to do it. Not when he sighed against her mouth like he’d been holding his breath since the moment they met.

She deepened the kiss, just slightly, and he responded instantly—like her lips were a challenge he was more than willing to accept.

And then his tongue flicked just barely across her bottom lip, teasing, testing.

Her breath hitched.

He smirked into the kiss.

Cocky bastard.

Still—she didn’t pull away.

Didn’t want to.

It wasn’t just the heat or the softness. It was the feeling of it—like they were speaking in a language only they knew. Every kiss a reply to something left unsaid. Every brush of lips, every shift in pressure, laced with history and banter and something far too big to name.

She felt him smile again, that familiar curve of mischief that had always driven her insane in the best way.

And just before they finally broke apart—barely—foreheads pressed together, breaths tangled in the summer air, he murmured the line that finished the game for good:

“You’re the only game I never wanted to win. I just wanted to keep playing.”

She leaned in again—soft this time, just a brush of lips—and whispered back, “Good. ‘Cause I’m not done beating you yet.”

He laughed, loud and joyful, like she’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

Maybe he had.

Maybe they both had.

[agustdsluv]

KISS ME! | JJK

You and Jungkook have known each other your whole lives. Childhood best friends turned almost something more. He’s charming, popular, and scared of commitment. You’re ambitious, guarded, and tired of being a maybe.

After one kiss changes everything, you realize wanting him isn’t enough if he won’t choose you back. But walking away is easier said than done.

University brings distance, jealousy, and new people. You’re ready to move on. He’s finally starting to realize he can’t. Not when it’s always been you. 

pairing: childhoodbestfriend!jungkook x (fem) reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, kinda toxic but delicious, mutual pining, fluff & eventual smut

rating: 18+ (mdni!!)

KISSME!PLAYLIST | KISSME!MOODBOARD |

series:

Part 1: Hot summer nights, mid-July (3.7K)

Part 2: I wanna be yours (6.4k)

[agustdsluv]

🎮 PRESS START | 🕹️ PART 3. FINAL BOSS

summary | when game night gets a little too intense and the air between them shifts, y/n starts wondering if the tension has always meant something else. but she’s not the only one thinking it. stolen kisses. one couch. two controllers. and way too many things left unsaid.

“loving you’s a game, boy”

Inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | academic rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn (but oh it’s sizzling), romantic comedy vibes, lots of banter, tension, and charged moments, mutual pining (but make it competitive), some light steam (mild spice, suggestive but not explicit), casual swearing, playful tension turning into something a little more, jealousy

word count: 1.2k

notes: surprise after surprise 🤭

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

🕹️ Part 3 - “Final Boss”

Jungkook hadn’t moved in the five minutes since.

They sat in silence, the only sound the distant hum of the game menu theme and the thundering in her chest.

He was still looking at her like she wasn’t real. Like he couldn’t believe he’d finally touched her.

Y/N crossed her arms to hide the way her hands were still shaking. “So…”

He blinked. “So.”

“That happened.”

“Yeah.”

“Twice.”

“Uh-huh.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “You regretting it?”

His head snapped up. “What? No. Are you?”

She hesitated. “No. I just—I didn’t think you would actually…”

“Kiss you?”

She gave him a look. “Yeah.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck. “Well. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

“Since when?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

He laughed softly, eyes fixed on the floor like confessing to a priest. “Since you roasted my presentation sophomore year.”

She blinked. “You mean when I said your video editing looked like it was done in 2011?”

“Yep. You were ruthless. It was hot.”

She let out a surprised laugh.

“I kept telling myself I wasn’t into you,” he said. “That it was just… rivalry or whatever.”

“But?”

He looked up.

“But then you’d show up in class with your hair all messy and take my pen without asking and argue with me over every stupid little thing, and I realized I wasn’t annoyed.”

His voice softened. “I just really, really liked watching you win.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. And broke. And swelled again.

She didn’t know what she expected—maybe more banter, more deflection—but not this. Not Jungkook stripped down to the truth like that.

She didn’t say anything right away.

So he added, “I ruined it, didn’t I?”

“No,” she said quickly, voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at her.

She licked her lips. “You didn’t ruin it.”

“Then what do we do now?”

Y/N stood up without answering, padded to the kitchen, and poured two glasses of water with trembling hands.

Her mind was spinning.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Her academic rival. Her walking distraction. Her favorite fight.

Liking her? All this time?

She came back, handed him a glass, and sat down beside him—closer this time. Thighs touching. Shoulders brushing.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” she said honestly. “But I know I don’t want to stop.”

He turned his head slightly, eyes flicking down to her lips. “Then don’t.”

And just like that—soft, slow, deliberate—he leaned in again.

The kiss was different this time.

No surprise. No adrenaline. Just him. And her. And everything unspoken.

He kissed her like he was memorizing it.

His hand found her thigh, fingers splaying gently over the fabric of her shorts. Her breath caught as his thumb drew a slow, deliberate circle just above her knee.

Her hand curled into his sweatshirt, tugging him closer.

She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and he groaned softly—low in his throat, like he’d been holding it back for months.

Every press of his lips said, You drive me insane.

Every touch said, I’m not going anywhere.

They pulled apart slowly, reluctantly. He rested his forehead against hers again, noses brushing.

“I’ve been losing my mind over you,” he murmured.

“Good,” she whispered. “I’ve been winning.”

He laughed. Actually laughed, head thrown back like she’d just scored a point.

“God, you’re annoying,” he said.

She smirked. “You love it.”

“I think I do.”

They ended up curled on the couch, legs tangled, her head on his shoulder.

The game menu eventually timed out.

He didn’t move.

She didn’t want him to.

After a while, she whispered, “This isn’t just a game anymore, is it?”

Jungkook pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It never was.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

She couldn’t.

Not when her pulse was still dancing in her throat. Not when his thumb was still tracing light patterns into her knee like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Jungkook’s other hand was resting on the back of the couch now, draped behind her like a casual afterthought—but she could feel the warmth of it near her shoulder, comforting and just a little possessive. Like he wanted to be close but wasn’t sure if he was allowed yet.

She reached up and laced her fingers through his.

That was her answer.

No words—just that quiet, deliberate slip of touch.

He looked down at their hands and then up at her, his expression something between wonder and disbelief.

“You’re kind of unreal, you know that?”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance. “You’ve known me for two years.”

“Exactly. And somehow, I still don’t get how you always beat me and steal my attention like it’s nothing.”

“I don’t steal anything,” she said smugly. “You hand it over.”

He groaned, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “See? This is what I mean. You’re evil.”

She rested her chin against his shoulder, smiling to herself. “You like it.”

“I really do,” he said quietly.

Silence stretched between them again—but it wasn’t awkward. It was warm. Familiar. Like something that had been waiting to happen for a long, long time.

Outside, it had started raining—soft, rhythmic tapping against the windowpane, as if the world had decided to slow down for them too.

Jungkook gave her hand a squeeze. “So what happens next? After this?”

She looked up at him. His hair was still tousled from their earlier chaos, his sweatshirt stretched from where she’d been fisting it during the kiss.

“You mean like… next week?” she asked.

“Next week, next month—” he hesitated, then added, “—next time I call you mine.”

Y/N inhaled.

Slow. Shaky. Real.

She’d played a lot of games with Jungkook. But this—this wasn’t one of them.

“Then we keep going,” she said softly. “Whatever this is. We don’t overthink it. We don’t pretend we’re just rivals anymore.”

“Yeah?” he murmured. “No more fake hate?”

She tilted her head. “We can keep the banter.”

“Deal.” He smiled. “But I get a kiss every time I lose now.”

Y/N snorted. “Then start practicing your ‘L’ face.”

“Oh, you’re so annoying,” he groaned.

She kissed him on the cheek anyway.

And this time, when they leaned back against the couch, hands still tangled and hearts a little less guarded, the silence felt like something new.

Something that wasn’t just a pause between battles.

But a beginning.

[agustdsluv]

🎮 PRESS START | 🕹️ PART 2. LEVEL UP

summary | Y/N thought she had Jungkook figured out—cocky, competitive, incapable of handling second place. But between all of eye contact , stolen sips of boba, and tension thick enough to break a Joy-Con, she starts to realize something’s changed. The game isn’t just academic anymore. And neither of them are playing fair. Let the next level begin.

“with me you leveled up, yea it’s true”

Inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | college au, rivals to lovers, slow burn, flirty tension, comedy, emotional pining, accidental touching, flirty banter, a lot of flirting and l mean ALOTTTTT, teasing, gaming rivalry, they’re obsessed with each other, the tension omgggggg, jungkook is just head over heels it’s actually insane, it’s finally here 🤭

word count | 1.2K

notes: I had so much fun writing this chapter

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

🕹️ Part 2 – “Level Up”

Y/N had cleaned her apartment three separate times.

Not because Jungkook cared about cleanliness—please, this was the guy who spilled ramen broth on his jeans and still finished the meal like a champ—but because cleaning gave her something to do.

She wasn’t nervous.

Okay, maybe a little.

This wasn’t their first time hanging out. They’d worked on projects together, walked home after class, sat way too close on shared benches. But this was different.

This was alone, no school excuses. Just her. Just him.

Just whatever game they were playing—flirting disguised as friendship, teasing that hit a little too hard.

She glanced at the time: 7:54 p.m.

Perfect. Not too early to look desperate. Not too late to look like she was trying.

And then came the knock.

She opened the door to find Jungkook standing there in a black crewneck, sweats, and a look that probably killed a few girls on campus that day. His hair was messy in that “I tried but not really” kind of way. A single silver ring glinted on his index finger.

And in his hand?

Boba.

He held it up with a smug grin. “Figured I’d bring it now. Y’know, before you lose.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Confidence. Hot.”

He followed her in, eyes scanning the space—clean, cozy, candles lit, two controllers on the coffee table.

“So,” he said, dropping onto the couch like he owned it. “What’s the game?”

She smirked. “Mario Kart.”

He blinked. “Oh. You’re serious about embarrassing yourself.”

“You talk big for someone who’s never beaten me in anything.”

“I beat you in that film debate last week.”

“That was sympathy. I didn’t want you to cry in front of everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes, grinning. “You’re evil.”

She leaned in, handing him a controller. “Press start, Jeon.”

Race 1: Coconut Mall.

Y/N won. Barely.

“Beginner’s luck,” Jungkook muttered, jaw tight, already queuing up the next race. He wasn’t smiling.

She was.

He hated that.

“You always this bitter after taking second place?” she teased.

“I wasn’t second. I was—”

“Behind me,” she finished.

His grip on the controller tightened.

Race 2: Moo Moo Meadows.

He beat her by 0.3 seconds.

They both screamed.

“You bumped me into a cow!” she shouted.

“It’s called strategy,” he said, wide-eyed, like he hadn’t just leaned so close their knees touched.

“You sabotaged me.”

“You drifted wide. Not my fault.”

“You elbowed me mid-jump.”

He shrugged—infuriatingly smug. “Get your stats up.”

She was going to kill him. Or kiss him. She hadn’t decided.

By Race 4, there were shoulder bumps during tight turns, side-eyes that lasted too long, and at least one instance of Y/N grabbing his drink and taking a victorious sip like she owned him and the cup.

“You’re cheating,” he muttered.

“Not my fault you suck at corners,” she replied, swiping the boba straw with zero remorse.

“Give that back—”

“Come get it.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth. Then her hand. Then the fact that their thighs were now fully pressed together.

He didn’t move away.

Neither did she.

And then came Rainbow Road.

Jungkook hated Rainbow Road.

She picked it on purpose.

“You’re actually trying to kill me,” he muttered, jaw clenched.

“It’s called bonding.”

He glanced sideways. “You’re dangerous.”

She smiled. “You’re losing.”

That did it.

He clenched his jaw, rolled his shoulders like he was about to throw hands instead of shells.

“Are you flirting or fighting right now?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at her. Their knees were still touching.

And for a moment—just a second too long—the game noise faded, the bright chaos of Rainbow Road, the fake crowd noises in the background… all of it faded out.

Like the real match wasn’t on the screen anymore.

Like they were both finally realizing something they’d been dodging for months.

Then Y/N nudged his elbow mid-jump.

“HEY—”

He plummeted off the track with a comical scream.

She gasped. “Oops.”

“You did that on purpose!”

“Prove it,” she said, deadpan.

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

“Not even close.”

But he was already smiling. A wild, boyish grin. She swore her heart skipped.

“You are so going down,” he growled.

She just leaned back, controller in hand, victorious gleam in her eyes. “You wish.”

He won.

She stared at the screen in disbelief.

“No way. No way. That was pure luck.”

He grinned, turning to face her fully. “I beat you.”

“I’m filing a formal complaint.”

“Confess.”

“What?”

“Loser confesses their darkest secret,” he reminded, voice low.

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not a real rule.”

“It is now.”

Y/N hesitated. Her heart was doing that thing—stupid, traitorous, fast.

She leaned back slightly, lips twitching. “Okay. Fine.”

He waited, eyebrows raised, gaze pinned to her face like he was ready for the punchline.

She stared at him. Dead serious.

“I like the way you look when you’re mad.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“I like when you talk with your hands,” she added. “And when you try to act like you’re not into me.”

He blinked.

She smiled. “Your turn.”

He didn’t say anything for a second.

Then, quietly: “That’s cheating.”

“No. That’s honesty. You scared, Jeon?”

His voice dropped. “You keep pushing my buttons.”

Y/N tilted her head. “That’s the whole point.”

There was something different in the silence that followed.

The game menu was still on the screen. The candle flickered between them. She could feel his knee pressed against hers, warm and still.

And then, he leaned in.

No warning. No smirk. Just his hand on her cheek and his mouth catching hers mid-breath.

It wasn’t a soft kiss. Not at first.

It was months—years—of teasing and tension and almosts crashing together all at once.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, steady, firm. She kissed him back like she meant it—because she did.

He tasted like brown sugar milk tea and something unspoken. Like all the things they’d never said. All the games they played to avoid this exact moment.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, his forehead rested lightly against hers.

“Cheater,” he whispered.

“You kissed me.”

“You dared me.”

She laughed softly. “And you liked it.”

His smile turned slow. Dangerous. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You gonna let me?”

He kissed her again—slower this time.

And for once, neither of them felt like they had to win.

[agustdsluv]

🎮 PRESS START | 🕹️PART 1. TUTORIAL MODE

SUMMARY | Y/N has one goal this semester. keep her academic rival Jeon Jungkook from getting under her skin—or on top of the leaderboard. But when they’re partnered for a group media project, things take a turn from passive-aggressive to dangerously flirty. Between subtle jabs, shared chargers, and way too much eye contact, their “playful tension” starts to blur into something neither of them can ignore. Winning was fun. But ruining him might be even better.

“play pretend but you know it’s karma”

inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | college au, rivals to lovers, slow burn, flirty tension, comedy, emotional pining, flirty banter, classic “just kiss already” energy, a lot of flirting and l mean ALOTTTTT, teasing, both are head over heels but refuse to admit it. I just love them sm

word count: 1.6k

notes: enjoyyy

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

🕹️ Part 1 – “Tutorial Mode”

Y/N had a theory.

The hotter a guy was, the worse he handled losing. Especially to her.

She had tested this theory in Mario Kart. In trivia games. In class debates. And now, most importantly, in Jungkook—the boy with the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen and the most unbearably competitive energy known to man.

Jungkook didn’t just like to win. He expected to win.

So the first time she outscored him on a group project last semester?

He blinked.

Then he smiled—tight-lipped and dangerous—and asked if she cheated.

She hadn’t. She never did.

She just liked pushing buttons.

And with Jungkook… she had so many to choose from.

They weren’t enemies. Not exactly.

They sat near each other in class. Laughed at the same TikToks. Shared charger cords and sometimes snacks. He even followed her on Instagram and watched her stories—all of them.

But there was something charged between them. Like they were always two steps away from flirting or fighting.

Y/N called it “playful tension.”

Her friends called it: “he’s definitely obsessed with you.”

She didn’t mind either interpretation.

What she did mind was how smug Jungkook looked every time he caught her looking at him.

Like he knew.

Like he wanted her to look longer.

Which, unfortunately, she sometimes did.

There was something infuriatingly watchable about him—messy dark hair, silver rings, that stupid chain he always wore even when it didn’t match his outfit. And then there was the way he sat like he owned the room: ankle over knee, head tilted, smirk in place like he was waiting for the next round of verbal sparring.

Jungkook was a walking challenge.

And Y/N loved challenges.

Especially ones she could win.

Their dynamic had rules. Unspoken, but well-established.

Rule #1: Whoever finishes the quiz first wins.

(And yes, speed mattered even if the points didn’t.)

Rule #2: No letting the other one borrow notes without a snarky comment.

(“Oh, so you didn’t understand the lecture? Tragic.”)

Rule #3: Don’t get caught staring.

(Or worse—smiling.)

They broke Rule #3 a lot.

“Y/N,” Professor Han called, “you’ll be partnered with Jungkook for the media analysis assignment.”

Of course.

Y/N didn’t even flinch as Jungkook turned in his seat to look at her. She could feel the smirk coming before it even hit his face.

“You gonna carry us?” he asked under his breath.

She smiled sweetly. “Only if I get credit for emotional labor.”

He blinked like he didn’t expect her to bite back that fast. Then he leaned back, arms crossed, and tilted his head with a challenge in his eyes.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, then.”

Oh, she was going to ruin this man. Delightfully.

“Oh it’s on Jeon.”

Y/N didn’t bother looking at him again. She just pulled out her pen, underlined the words “media analysis” in her planner, and started scribbling a game plan.

Jungkook, however, didn’t stop looking at her.

Not for a second.

Even though he was next to her, he watched as she tied her hair up without a mirror, cracked her knuckles like she was preparing for battle, and highlighted her notes in three distinct colors—ruthless, confident, prepared.

It was annoying.

And deeply, deeply hot.

After class, she didn’t wait for him.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from catching up as they hit the hallway.

“So,” Jungkook said casually, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, “what’s our team name?”

She raised a brow. “We’re not a band.”

“Okay, but if we were, I’d vote for something like… ‘Dangerously Attractive and Slightly Smug.’”

She gave him a blank stare.

He grinned. “Too long?”

“Too delusional.”

He laughed, walking backward in front of her now, just to keep her attention.

“You don’t wanna work with me, do you?” he said.

“I’d rather be audited.”

“Ouch.”

“But…” she paused, lips twitching, “I do love a challenge.”

“Is that what I am to you?” he asked, mock-wounded. “A challenge?”

She stopped walking, tilted her head. “Please. You’re barely mid-boss level.”

He let out a sharp, surprised laugh.

God, she was lethal.

And he was in so much trouble.

They met up two days later at the student union. He was already at the table when she arrived, sleeves rolled up, fingers drumming against the table like he’d been waiting for this.

Y/N slid into the seat across from him and dropped her bag with a thud.

He looked up.

And blinked.

“You cut your hair.”

She did.

He noticed.

“Observant,” she teased, unpacking her laptop.

“It looks…” His gaze lingered for a second longer than it needed to. “Good.”

Her heart did a tiny traitorous flutter.

He was wearing that ridiculous silver ring on his pointer finger again. And a backwards cap. And he smelled like expensive laundry detergent and danger.

Focus, Y/N.

“Flirting already?” she asked, clicking her pen. “We haven’t even argued about the project yet.”

“Who’s flirting?” he countered, lips twitching.

“You are.”

“Pretty confident of you.”

She leaned forward, chin in her hand. “You’re the one staring.”

He scoffed. “You wish.”

She laughed. Checkmate.

“Just admit it…you have nothing to lose”

She smirked and raised her eyebrow at him.

He had that look in his eyes where she could just tell he was up to no good.

“I have nothing to admit.” he scoffed.

She chuckled and shook her head.

They worked like that for a while—clicking keys, scribbling notes, tossing subtle jabs back and forth like ping-pong balls.

It was how they functioned. Always had.

Push. Pull.

Challenge. Retreat.

But now… something else lived underneath it.

Not just tension. Not just rivalry.

It was in the way Jungkook’s leg bumped hers once—and didn’t move away.

In the way he nudged a half-full iced coffee toward her without comment, like he’d just known she forgot hers again.

In the way she looked up and caught him watching her—not with a smirk this time, but with something quieter.

Something that scared her more than it should have.

“You’re staring again,” she murmured, breaking the moment.

He blinked. “Yeah.”

She waited for the comeback. The smirk. The sarcastic jab.

It didn’t come.

Just that quiet, steady gaze.

“It’s hard not to,” he said simply.

Her throat went dry.

She looked away—eyes scanning the same sentence five times, brain offering her nothing.

And then his voice cut through again, low and almost curious:

“why’d you really cut your hair?”

Y/N looked up slowly.

He wasn’t teasing now.

So she shrugged. “Felt like a reset.”

“A reset,” he repeated.

“New semester. New phase. New version of me.”

Jungkook studied her. Not in the way people usually did—scanning, judging, calculating. He looked like he was trying to understand.

Like he’d been watching her this whole time and only now realized she’d changed.

He nodded. “Looks good.”

“You already said that.”

“I meant it both times.”

Her lips twitched. “You always this soft when we’re not trash-talking each other?”

He smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then, softly—too softly:

“I like the old version of you.”

he paused.

“But I think I like this one even more.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

But her heart was loud enough for both of them.

They spent two hours working on the assignment—which was shockingly productive despite the constant low-grade bickering.

Somewhere between comparing screenplays and arguing over whether a romantic lead needed to deserve the main girl, she caught him watching her again.

This time, he didn’t look away.

“What?”

He shrugged. “You talk with your hands.”

“Okay?”

“It’s distracting.”

She smirked. “Wanna hold them to keep me still?”

His ears went red.

Got him.

Later that night, she got a text from Jungkook.

Tuesday 10:45 p.m.

jk: send me the title of that film you mentioned. The one with the boba scene?

you: only if you tell me why you watched me like I was a movie

jk: you’re so annoying

you: you’re obsessed with me.

Her heart stopped.

Then:

jk: i mean you ARE my competition. gotta study my competition, right?

She rolled her eyes.

you: you’re such a loser

jk: yeah but I’m YOUR loser for the next 2 weeks

She didn’t respond.

Her phone buzzed again.

jk: that didn’t sound like I meant it to

jk: i meant for the project

jk: shut up. why am l still texting you.

It only escalated from there.

Two days later, he brought her coffee—“accidentally” ordered two.

A week after that, she made him a meme of their Google Doc with the caption: “we’re enemies. but like… cute enemies.” He kept it as his wallpaper for three days.

They never talked about whatever it was building between them.

But it buzzed under everything. Every joke. Every eye-roll. Every text that lingered a little longer than it should’ve.

It was like they were circling something neither of them wanted to name.

Until she finally gave it a name.

Friday, 9:41 p.m.

you: game night. tomorrow. 8PM. my place.

winner gets boba. loser confesses their darkest secret.

jk: you’re on

jk: hope you like crying into your tapioca pearls

you: hope you like losing to a girl

again :)

[agustdsluv]

🎮 PRESS START | THE SERIES M.L

summary | between all the bickering and competitiveness, Junkook and Y/N always found themselves running back to each other, but when a flirty game night turns into something way more dangerous, years of teasing, tension, and stolen glances explode into a competitive, chaotic, and unexpectedly emotional love story. she thought he was just another game to win. he’s been playing for keeps since Day One. who’s pushing whose buttons now?

“Loving you’s a gameboy, l should throw it away, boy”

Inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

word count | 15.4K in total

genre/warnings | college au, rivals to lovers, slow burn, flirty tension, comedy, emotional pining, smut implied (eventually), jealous jungkook moments, flirty banter, thigh touching, classic “just kiss already” energy, reader may spontaneously combust (be warned), istg I’m so in love with them already, fluff, get tissues

notes: okay so after I wrote the one shot for gameboy, it just wasn’t the type of one shot l was imagining and it was all over the place and I just didn’t like it so I started writing another one shot based on game boy but then it turned into this whole like series and I really enjoyed writing it and I really hope you guys like it. Also, it is NOT necessary for you to read game boy in order to start the series, it is a completely different story and a completely different plot in a way. This is my first series so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you guys think.

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST

🎮 ONE-SHOT VERSION - GAME BOY

🕹️ PART 1. TUTORIAL MODE

🕹️ PART 2. LEVEL UP

🕹️ PART 3. FINAL BOSS

🕹️ PART 4. GAME OVER (YOU WIN)

🕹️ EPILOGUE : CO-OP MODE coming 7/24 9PM EST.

DRABBLES

- soon

- soon

- soon

- soon

[agustdsluv]

GAME BOY 🎮 | JJK

summary | “you’re just a game boy, I ain’t tryna play, boy. I ain’t thinking about you. loving you’s a game boy, l should throw it away, boy.”

inspired by Katseye’s “GAMEBOY”

paring | jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings | enemies (not really) to lovers, “I hate how much I want you” energy, slow burn, playful angst, teasing banter, unresolved sexual tension, emotional walls crumbling, Mature / 16+ (eventual 18+ themes implied) smut implied (nothing explicit, but heavy tension, undressing, kissing, etc.) Mild alcohol consumption

word count | 2.4k

notes: I was listening to Game Boy today and I kinda got this sort of idea but it’s not really my best work so I’ll probably try to re-create it and write something else out of it. It’s literally all over the place so just bear with me and then I’ll definitely try to rewrite it later. 

SERIES M.LIST

The café hummed with the usual late afternoon buzz—clinking cups, soft indie music, and murmured conversations blending into a warm, familiar noise. Y/N sat at her favorite corner table, her legs crossed, one eyebrow raised as she scrolled through her phone without much interest. But her eyes kept darting up, scanning the entrance with a smirk tugging at her lips.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Jungkook appeared like clockwork, casual but confident, the kind of presence that made heads turn. The way his hair fell just right, the effortless swagger in his step—it was a carefully crafted act, one Y/N could read like a book. He was the Gameboy: fun, unpredictable, always ready to push buttons for the thrill of it.

Her smirk deepened as he spotted her immediately. His eyes lit up with that familiar mixture of mischief and something more subtle—something he never quite let show.

Sliding into the seat across from her without hesitation, he said, “Hey. I thought you’d be hard to find today.”

Y/N stretched her arms above her head, pretending to be unimpressed. “You’re just on time as always. I’m starting to think you time your entrances.”

“Maybe I do,” Jungkook teased, leaning forward, hands folded casually. “Or maybe I’m just drawn to the drama.”

She laughed lightly, eyes sparkling. “Tell your friends I love the drama. Play pretend, but you know it’s karma.”

He raised a brow, smiling. “Karma, huh? You’re the one always stirring things up.”

Y/N shrugged, unapologetic. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

They fell into the comfortable rhythm they’d perfected over months—a battle of words, a dance of teasing that everyone around might mistake for tension but was really just the early stages of something neither wanted to admit.

“Come on,” Jungkook said, dropping his voice an octave. “You know you’re the one who’s lonely calling.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t falter. “Blame me if you want, but I ain’t the problem.”

The café door jingled, and a few heads turned as a group of Y/N’s friends filed in, laughing and chatting. Y/N waved them over but kept her attention on Jungkook.

“Look at you,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Always acting like you don’t care. But I see the way you watch me.”

He shrugged, trying to look casual but failing miserably. “Maybe I’m just curious.”

Y/N leaned back, crossing her arms. “Curious enough to play a game you’re gonna lose?”

“Game on,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that was equal parts challenge and invitation.

The rest of the day unfolded like a series of little battles and near-misses. They ran into each other unexpectedly—outside the record store, at the park where Y/N went for her evening run, even at the late-night taco stand she frequented after shifts. Each encounter layered with playful digs and flirty comments, their conversations a chess match of words.

“You keep pushing my buttons, you know,” Jungkook admitted one night as they sat on the steps of an old theatre after a spontaneous late-night walk.

Y/N caught his gaze, steady and cool. “And you? You leveled up, but you’re still losing.”

“Maybe I’m not trying to win,” he said quietly, eyes not leaving hers.

She felt the air shift between them but kept her tone light. “Now I’m somebody you don’t wanna lose, huh?”

He laughed softly, but there was no mistaking the truth beneath his words. “Yeah. Guess you are.”

Back at her apartment, Y/N rolled her eyes at her reflection. She’d been playing this game for weeks now, and despite her tough exterior, she found herself thinking about him more than she liked to admit. Jungkook, with his easy smile and those moments when his guard dropped just enough to make her wonder if maybe he was playing for keeps.

She grabbed her phone and typed a quick message to her best friend: “I swear, he’s like a Gameboy. Always flashing and buzzing, but can’t get enough.”

Her phone buzzed immediately with a reply: “You better watch out. Gameboys get addictive.”

Y/N smirked, pocketing the phone. Maybe this game wasn’t so bad after all.

The city skyline glimmered behind the bar’s floor-to-ceiling windows as Y/N slid onto a stool at the crowded lounge. She scanned the room with a smirk—her friends were already deep in conversation, but her eyes were on the door.

Because she just knew he’d show up.

And sure enough, like a magnet, Jungkook strolled in minutes later, cool and confident, slipping past the crowd toward the bar.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Y/N called out, voice loud enough to catch his attention without seeming desperate.

Jungkook grinned, raising an eyebrow. “You missed me?”

“Miss you? Not really. But I did get bored without someone to tease.”

“Ah, so you admit you like the game,” he said, leaning on the bar beside her.

Y/N laughed, swirling her drink. “Maybe I like winning more.”

Jungkook smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

A few rounds of drinks later, their banter grew louder and more flirtatious, drawing amused looks from friends around them.

“So,” Y/N said, voice dipped in challenge, “I hear you think you’re leveled up.”

“Leveling up is my specialty,” Jungkook replied, eyes locked on hers. “But maybe you’re the one who’s underestimated me.”

She shook her head, mock exasperated. “Underestimate me? Big mistake.”

He tapped her fingers gently on the bar. “Then maybe I’m not underestimating. Maybe I’m just… curious.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she covered it with a grin. “Curious enough to lose?”

“Not if I play it right.”

Outside, Y/N and Jungkook found themselves alone under the streetlights, the city’s hum fading into the background.

“You’re impossible,” she said softly, eyes glinting in the dark.

“Is that a compliment?” he asked, stepping closer.

She shrugged, trying not to show how her heart sped up. “Maybe.”

Jungkook smiled, voice dropping. “You keep playing this game, but I kinda like it.”

Y/N glanced away, heat rising to her cheeks. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he whispered.

Back in her room, Y/N stared at the ceiling, replaying their night in her mind. The teasing, the tension—it was like they were circling something neither dared to name.

Maybe this game wasn’t just a game anymore.

The soft hum of the city outside was a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside Y/N’s mind. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the framed photo on her desk—a snapshot from years ago, simpler times. Back when life felt less like a game and more like something real.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Jungkook: “You okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”

Y/N smiled, typing back quickly, “Just thinking. Not thinking about you”

Truth was, she was trying to untangle the mess of feelings she was conveniently ignoring. She’d always been the confident one—the girl who laughed off drama, who pushed people away before they could get too close. But Jungkook? He had this way of poking at those walls, gently but persistently.

She remembered the first time they met—he was the guy who dared to challenge her at every turn, who teased like it was a sport. At first, she thought he was just another distraction. But now, it felt different.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s fingers trembled slightly as he stared at Y/N’s last message: “Not thinking about you.” The words were a dare, a tease—and yet, they torched through his mind like wildfire. How could she say that? How could he stop thinking about her when every nerve in his body screamed her name?

He dropped his phone onto the bed and leaned back, eyes closing. The image of her—the way her lips curved into that confident, challenging smirk—was burned into his brain. Every time he thought about their banter, the way her fingers brushed his arm just so casually, a slow heat pooled low in his stomach.

It was more than addiction. It was obsession.

Jungkook swallowed hard, remembering the last time they’d been close—too close. Her breath had hitched when he’d leaned in just a fraction too near, her eyes dark with something dangerous and delicious. He’d wanted to cross the line, to see if she’d fight him or surrender.

And he knew—he wanted to find out.

The thought alone set his pulse racing.

That night, unable to shake the craving, Jungkook found himself pacing in his room. His shirt was undone at the top, the heat inside him growing unbearable. His mind was a relentless replay of every glance, every touch, every teasing word Y/N had thrown at him.

She’s like a game I can’t quit.

His hands clenched into fists as the need to close the distance between them burned hotter than ever.

Y/N wasn’t innocent in this game. She felt it too—the pull, the magnetic charge between them that sizzled just beneath the surface of their teasing.

One late night, they found themselves alone in a cramped elevator after a night out. The tension was so thick, it was almost suffocating.

Jungkook’s hand brushed her arm, deliberate and electric. Y/N froze, heart hammering, every nerve alive.

“Gameboy,” she whispered, voice low, “you’re messing with fire.”

His eyes darkened, lips curling into a dangerous smile. “And you? You’re the only one I want to burn for.”

They were inches apart—too close to back away, too charged to ignore the desire simmering between them.

Jungkook’s breath hitched as Y/N’s fingers traced the line of his jaw. “I’m addicted to this,” he confessed, voice rough. “To you.”

Y/N’s smirk softened into something more real, more vulnerable. “Good. Because I’m not just playing anymore.”

The elevator dinged open, but neither of them moved. The game had changed. The stakes were higher. And neither was ready to lose.

Before she could think twice, Jungkook’s hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

Their breaths mingled, the heat between them impossible to ignore.

Then, finally, his lips captured hers in a slow, searing kiss — the teasing game melting away into something fierce and real.

Y/N responded with everything she’d been holding back, fingers tangling in his hair as the world outside disappeared.

The elevator dinged open again, but neither moved. The line had been crossed. The game was over.

The moment their lips parted in the cramped elevator, the world outside ceased to exist. Jungkook’s hands slid from her face to her waist, pulling Y/N impossibly close. She melted against him, heat blossoming between them like a wildfire.

Her breath hitched as his fingers trailed lower, tracing the curve of her hip beneath the fabric of her jacket. The teasing smiles, the playful rivalry—it all dissolved into raw desire.

“You’ve got me,” he murmured against her lips, voice thick with need. “Completely addicted.”

Y/N’s pulse thundered, her fingers trembling as they explored the planes of his chest. “Don’t think I’m an easy win,” she whispered back, breathless and bold.

His lips found the sensitive skin beneath her ear, nipping gently as she shivered. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The elevator lights flickered as time slowed, their bodies pressed so close it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Every touch ignited sparks, every breath whispered promises.

The world outside the elevator was distant noise compared to the storm raging between them. Once they made it inside the apartment Jungkook’s hands roamed with increasing boldness, memorizing the feel of her, igniting a fire neither could contain.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his lips traveled down her neck, the warmth of his mouth leaving a trail of heat that set her skin ablaze. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, their bodies pressed tight.

“You’re dangerous,” she whispered, voice trembling with desire.

He chuckled low, voice husky. “Only when I’m with you.”

The room seemed to shrink around them as the tension exploded into a frenzy of touches and whispered names. Clothes became obstacles to remove, kisses deepened, and the playful battles gave way to something urgent and consuming.

Every stolen breath, every shiver and sigh, told the story of two rivals who’d finally found the line between challenge and surrender.

You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, voice thick with longing.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers trembling as they threaded through his hair. “Maybe I like that,” she whispered, her lips brushing his with a teasing smile that ignited a fresh blaze inside him.

Their kiss deepened, a slow, hungry exploration that left no room for pretense or games. Jungkook’s hands slid beneath her shirt, the warmth of his skin against hers setting her nerves alight. She pressed into him, heart pounding, every touch a promise and a question all at once.

He traced the curve of her spine with feather-light touches, sending waves of heat that spread through her like wildfire. Their breaths mingled, ragged and desperate.

Y/N’s voice was barely more than a breath. “I’m not just your game.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, searching her eyes. “You’re so much more.”

Every inch of space between them disappeared as he lifted her, pressing her back against the cool metal wall. Her hands roamed freely now, tracing the lines of his strong shoulders, pulling him closer until their bodies were perfectly aligned.

The teasing was gone, replaced by raw, fierce need. Every kiss, every touch, was a surrender—both of them letting go of their walls, their fears, their games.

He pressed closer against her, their breaths mingling. “Maybe losing’s not so bad if it’s to you.”

Her smirk softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through. “Don’t get comfortable. I’m still winning.”

They laughed, the tension melting into something warm and electric—their rivalry evolving into a dance neither wanted to stop.

© 2025 agustdsluv

[agustdsluv]

IN THE SPACE BETWEEN US - JJK

summary | they grew up side by side. they just didn’t know they were falling in love. years of silence, one moment of truth, and a love that was always there.

paring | jungkook x f! reader

genre/warnings | one shot! childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff with light angst, first love, they’re honestly just blind and idiots for each other, mutual pining, them just being cute, time skip, and again just them being dumb

word count | 3.9K

notes: honestly I debated whether or not I should post this. It’s the first time I’m publishing something of my own and I’ve written a lot of stuff over the years, but I’ve never posted anything like this before so I really hope you enjoy it. It took me a long time to have the courage to post this so I really hope you like it and let me know what you think. 

The summer Jungkook turned seven, a new family moved into the yellow house across the street.

Their daughter—shy, messy-haired, with oversized glasses—stood out like a cloud on a clear day. While the other kids played soccer on cracked pavement and scraped knees on jungle gyms, she spent the first week hiding behind her mother’s legs or sitting silently on the front porch with a spiral notebook.

On the second Monday of July, Jungkook found her crying behind the bush next to the schoolyard fence.

He blinked, unsure if he should run or offer a tissue. She noticed him watching and quickly wiped her face with the back of her hand, which left a dirt streak across her cheek.

“You lost?” he asked, walking closer with his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

She shook her head.

“Then why are you crying?”

She hugged her notebook tighter. “Some girl said I’m weird because I brought dried squid for lunch.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “That’s not weird. I eat squid all the time.”

She peered up at him, skeptical. “Really?”

He nodded confidently. “Wanna see something cooler?”

Before she could answer, he unzipped his backpack and pulled out a crumpled bag of spicy seaweed crackers.

“They taste gross,” he said proudly. “But I eat them anyway. Wanna try?”

She took one cautiously, eyes narrowing as she chewed. Then her lips twitched. “That’s disgusting.”

“I know.” He grinned. “Now you have to be my friend.”

And just like that, the thread was tied.

From that day on, they were inseparable.

They walked to school together every morning, side by side with their backpacks bouncing. During lunch, they’d trade doodles in their notebooks and dare each other to eat increasingly weird snack combos—banana and kimchi, yogurt with soy sauce, chocolate-covered seaweed.

“Someday we’ll open a snack shop,” she declared one day, her mouth full of strawberry pocky. “But only sell cursed food.”

Jungkook nodded seriously. “And we’ll call it… ‘Don’t Eat This.’”

When they weren’t in class, they were on the playground or at each other’s houses, building blanket forts and pretending the couch was a ship lost at sea. Jungkook’s mom started keeping extra slippers by the door just for her. Her dad started calling Jungkook “our honorary son.”

By third grade, everyone in the neighborhood knew their names as one: Jungkook-and-YN.

The first time yn got jealous, she didn’t know what it was.

It was a warm spring afternoon. They were playing tag with a group of neighborhood kids when Minji, a girl from the next block, ran up and tugged on his sleeve.

“Jungkook-ah,” she said sweetly. “Do you want to play with me instead?”

He glanced over at her—his her—standing a few feet away, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She didn’t say anything.

He turned back to Minji. “No thanks. I already have a partner.”

Minji pouted, but Jungkook ran off before she could protest.

When he got to her side, he nudged her shoulder. “Hey. Why’d you look sad?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “You can play with other people, you know.”

He frowned. “But I don’t want to.”

“You don’t?”

He blinked. “Why would I? You’re my best friend.”

She looked at him then, a quiet smile playing on her lips. “You’re mine too.”

The bracelet came that summer.

They were sitting under the big plum tree in her backyard, stringing beads together with clumsy fingers and bug bites on their arms.

“This one’s yours,” he said, holding up the blue and green bracelet he made.

She gave him a red and yellow one in return, which didn’t match at all, but he tied it on proudly.

“Now we match,” he said. “Even if you move away someday or go to a different school—this means we’ll still be best friends.”

She touched the beads carefully. “Okay. But you have to promise.”

“I promise.”

He didn’t know then how heavy a promise could be.

But he meant it anyway.

Middle school arrived with an awkwardness she couldn’t quite name.

Hair got weirder. Voices cracked. Kids started dividing into cliques and couples, drifting apart like puzzle pieces that no longer fit. She felt it everywhere—in the way people whispered about crushes, or asked who liked who, like it was the most important question in the world.

But not with Jungkook.

He was still her constant. The one unchanging thread in all the chaos.

Only… even constants begin to shift.

They didn’t play tag anymore. The friendship bracelets they made under the plum tree were too small for their wrists now, tucked away in drawers or lost to time. Instead, they sat side-by-side at lunch, shared earbuds on the bus, and texted late at night about songs and stupid jokes and everything in between.

It was still them.

Mostly.

Until it wasn’t.

He joined choir in seventh grade.

She hadn’t thought much of it at first—until she heard him sing.

It was rehearsal for the spring showcase. She was backstage, helping a teacher organize props, when his voice filtered through the noise. She didn’t realize it was him at first. The sound was too soft, too rich, too careful. But then she peeked around the curtain and saw him standing on the risers—hands in the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes slightly down, completely unaware of how easily he was stealing the breath out of her lungs.

Something in her shifted.

And that was when she knew.

She didn’t just like Jungkook.

She was in love with him.

She didn’t say anything, of course.

How could she?

They’d been friends since they were seven. He’d seen her with grape jelly on her face and crooked teeth. He knew every version of her—sleepy, grumpy, awkward, annoying. Telling him would be like stepping off a cliff with no rope.

So instead, she wrote.

Her journal became her safe place—pages full of things she couldn’t say out loud. Things she wished he knew. Things she wasn’t brave enough to tell him.

March 15

He walked me home again today. I counted 23 sidewalk tiles between our houses. I wanted to ask if he liked anyone. I didn’t.

April 2

His hoodie smelled like citrus gum and laundry detergent. I wore it the whole night. He said I could keep it. I didn’t give it back.

April 28

He smiled at Minji today. I hated that I noticed. I hated that it hurt.

By eighth grade, the space between them was harder to ignore.

They still talked, still laughed, still existed in that same shared rhythm. But something was different. He texted less in the evenings. He looked away faster when she caught him staring. He laughed more with other girls.

And she started wondering if maybe she was the only one holding onto whatever they used to be.

The worst part was how natural it all looked—him fitting into those groups, those jokes, those conversations with other people. With other girls.

She tried not to let it bother her. But the ache in her chest said otherwise.

One night, walking home from a study group, she almost said it.

The air was thick with the smell of rain. The sidewalks shimmered under the streetlights, and the sky still held the blush of a fading sunset.

Jungkook bumped his shoulder into hers as they walked. “You’ve been quiet all day,” he said. “Lost in thought?”

She glanced at him, then down at their feet. “Yeah. Something like that.”

He looked at her—really looked—and for a moment, everything stilled.

“I was thinking…” she began, voice small. “Do you ever—”

Her phone buzzed. Loud. Jarring.

It was her mom. A reminder about dinner.

When she looked up again, the moment had already passed. Jungkook had slipped his hands into his pockets, the weight of whatever had just almost happened falling away like sand between fingers.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he said.

She nodded. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

But that night, as she stared up at her ceiling, the words haunted her.

Do you ever think about us as more than friends?

The school festival came that fall.

By then, they were in high school—and Jungkook had become someone everyone noticed. Not in an obnoxious way. He was just there—always laughing, always moving, always shining in a way that drew people in.

She stayed where she always had: close, but never quite center.

Not the kind of girl he’d fall for. Not the kind of girl people whispered about in the hallways.

But she couldn’t help it—she loved him anyway.

The night of the festival, he was set to perform solo for the first time. She found a spot near the back of the crowd, standing under a tangle of fairy lights strung across the courtyard.

He stepped up on stage in jeans, sneakers, and his worn denim jacket. No drama. No spotlight.

Just Jungkook.

He adjusted the mic, cleared his throat, then looked out at the crowd. “Uh… this one’s a cover,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “It kind of reminds me of someone I’ve known a long time.”

And then he started to sing.

It wasn’t perfect. His voice cracked once. He messed up a chord.

But it didn’t matter.

Because every word felt like it had weight. Like it had a name.

Her name.

And as she stood in the dark, listening, something inside her broke and healed all at once.

She couldn’t pretend anymore.

Not when everything in her heart screamed for more than friendship.

Not when it was him.

Jungkook’s apartment still smelled like vanilla and something faintly citrus—probably his detergent. The scent had clung to her clothes a hundred times, but now it felt different. Louder. Warmer. Like it wrapped around her the moment she stepped through the door.

It was a Saturday night. Late spring. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two weeks.

College, work, and life had gotten in the way—at least, that’s what they told each other.

But she knew the real reason.

Things had been… off.

Ever since winter break, when he nearly said something and she nearly answered. When their hands lingered too long on the armrest during a movie, and their goodbyes started to feel like maybe’s instead of see-you-soon’s.

Still, she came over because they’d promised they wouldn’t drift.

And because she missed him so much it made her chest ache.

“Hey,” he said when he opened the door, one hand still drying his hair with a towel. “You’re early.”

“I walked fast,” she said, trying to sound casual.

He grinned. “What, to avoid the cold or to see me faster?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away.

He looked good. Stupidly good. A soft black t-shirt, sweatpants, and damp hair pushed off his forehead. There was something too intimate about the domesticity of it all. The fact that he let her in without a second thought. The way his presence always settled the noise in her mind.

The air buzzed with unspoken things.

They made dinner together like they always used to—ramyeon with extra egg, dumplings, and one of those pre-made strawberry milk cartons they both secretly loved.

Music played from his Bluetooth speaker, low and steady. Her favorite playlist, the one he made for her birthday last year. The same one she still listened to when she couldn’t sleep.

It all felt so normal.

Except it wasn’t.

Not really.

Not with the way her heart twisted every time their hands brushed. Not with the way he kept stealing glances at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

Something was coming. She felt it in her bones.

And it terrified her.

After dinner, they collapsed on the couch in a comfortable silence.

She tucked her feet under her and hugged a pillow to her chest. Jungkook grabbed a blanket and threw it over both of them without asking.

Her heart leapt at the gesture. He didn’t even hesitate.

The movie playing on his screen was just noise. She wasn’t watching it. Not really. She could barely focus with how close he was—shoulder pressed to hers, knee resting just beside her thigh.

Every part of her was screaming.

Say something. Do something. Touch him.

But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t be the first to break.

Jungkook shifted beside her and let out a breath. “You ever think about how long we’ve known each other?”

She turned slightly, eyes on him. “Yeah. All the time.”

“Feels like… my whole life has you in it.”

Something fluttered in her stomach. She forced a small laugh. “That’s dramatic.”

He didn’t smile. He looked at her, really looked, his voice quiet. “I’m serious.”

Her fingers tightened around the pillow. “Why are you bringing this up?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Just… sometimes I wonder if you remember stuff the way I do. Like the plum tree. Or that dumb squid snack.”

“I remember everything,” she said before she could stop herself. “All of it.”

A pause.

“I never forgot either,” he said.

She looked at him—and her whole body tensed when she realized how close his face was to hers.

His eyes dropped to her lips for a second.

Just one second.

She stopped breathing.

“You know,” he whispered, “sometimes I think I should’ve said something a long time ago.”

“About what?”

He swallowed. His hand moved without thinking, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek.

“About this,” he said.

And then—he kissed her.

It wasn’t planned.

It wasn’t slow, or dramatic, or choreographed like the ones in movies.

It was quiet. A breath between heartbeats.

Soft and sudden, like instinct taking over.

His lips were warm, familiar, and yet completely new. His hand cupped her cheek as if afraid she might pull away.

But she didn’t.

She kissed him back—shaky at first, then sure. Her hands found the fabric of his t-shirt, fisting it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

It felt like exhaling after holding in a breath for years.

When they finally pulled apart, she kept her forehead resting against his, eyes still closed.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “What… was that?”

He laughed under his breath, soft and breathless. “A really long time coming.”

She opened her eyes, and his were already on her.

“I didn’t want to ruin us,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not after everything.”

“Me neither,” she said.

And just like that—the space between them was gone.

Neither of them moved at first.

The kiss had ended, but the moment hadn’t.

They sat there on Jungkook’s couch, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. His hand was still gently cradling her cheek. Her fingers remained twisted in the hem of his t-shirt, as if letting go might break whatever spell had just wrapped around them.

The TV buzzed in the background, completely forgotten.

Her heart was racing in that dizzy, quiet way that always came after something irreversible.

Eventually, Jungkook spoke. His voice was soft, and a little unsure.

“…Was that okay?”

She let out a breath. “It was more than okay.”

He pulled back just slightly so he could see her face, his hand falling to rest between them. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”

“I’m glad it did.”

He gave a shaky smile. “Me too.”

For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. The world outside the window was still, lit by the orange haze of distant streetlights. Somewhere down the hall, his neighbor’s dog barked once and went silent again.

Then, slowly, she turned to him.

“Can I ask something?”

“Anything.”

“How long?” she whispered. “How long have you felt… this?”

Jungkook looked down at his lap. When he spoke, his voice had that quiet weight it always did when he was being completely honest.

“I think it started in middle school. I didn’t know what it was at first. Just that I always wanted you around. That everything felt better with you in it. And then you wore my hoodie home one night, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how it looked on you.”

Her cheeks burned, but her heart swelled.

He continued, “In high school, I thought about telling you every time we said goodbye. But I kept thinking—what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin everything?”

She looked at him carefully. “I thought the same thing.”

His gaze snapped back to hers.

She smiled, soft and a little sad. “Jungkook… I’ve loved you for so long. I just never thought you’d look at me that way.”

“Are you serious?”

“I kept a journal,” she admitted, cheeks warm. “It’s filled with entries about you. About how I felt. About how scared I was to lose what we had.”

He stared at her, stunned. “You’re telling me we could’ve had this years ago?”

“Maybe,” she laughed, “but… I think I like that it happened now.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because we’re not kids anymore. And we know who we are now. I think if we had rushed it, maybe we wouldn’t have lasted.”

Jungkook paused. Then, quietly: “I want to last.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his.

“Me too.”

They stayed like that for a long time—just sitting, holding hands, letting the stillness wrap around them like a blanket. The air between them had shifted, but it wasn’t strange. It felt natural. Like breathing in after a long-held breath.

Eventually, he turned toward her, smiling a little.

“You wanna stay over?”

She raised a brow. “Smooth.”

“I mean, you always stay late. But… if you want. You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

She hesitated. Not because she was unsure, but because she knew this was a line they were crossing—together, willingly.

“Can we just… fall asleep here?” she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, we can.”

Later that night, as they lay side by side under the same blanket, limbs barely touching, her eyes drifted shut with the sound of his breathing next to her.

It wasn’t grand or dramatic or fireworks-in-the-sky kind of love.

It was better.

It was quiet and steady. A love that grew in the small spaces—between laughter and silence, between shoulder bumps and shy glances. A love that waited. A love that stayed.

She smiled into the dark, the weight in her chest finally lifted.

The space between them had collapsed.

And in its place was something real.

Something that had always been there.

© 2025 agustdsluv

[agustdsluv]

: ̗̀➛ BROOKLYN BABY

➥ SUMMARY: you’re a newbie to the busy streets of brooklyn, new york. you’ve left everything behind to accomplish your dreams of being a famous american director, it’s all you’ve ever wished for. but brooklyn has a lot more plans for you, bringing two of the most beautiful men into your life.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader | neighbours | fckboy!jungkook ⋆ jimin x fem!reader | friends to lovers? | french!jimin

➥ GENRE: slowburn ⋆ smut ⋆ angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ love triangle

➥ WARNINGS: major f!ckboy jungkook, cheating, mentions of eating disorders, implied and actual smut, bad language, smoking, drinking, mentions of death, trauma, miscommunication, implied and physical violence, lack of self respect and more.

{ warnings will be included before each chapter }

➥ INDEX:

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 end.

masterlist

[agustdsluv]

lovefool (jjk) {series masterlist}

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: lowkey chaebol, boyfriend!jugkook, angst, fluff, light smut. boyfriend au. summary: your boyfriend's pretty girl best friend isn't your biggest fan and keeps hogging up your alone time with him. note: this was written a lifetime ago! it hasn't been re-visited since i finished writing it so there may be plot holes so like 🙏 ignore those pleek

1

2

3

4

5

6 [fin]

extras/drabbles: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

[agustdsluv]

Daddy Kookie Masterpost

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: childhood lovers to exes to lovers, parents au, angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 15k (currently)

Summary: After Jungkook dropped all contact, Y/N was left broken. Seven years later, fate brings them back together.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, angst, smut, fluff, childhood lovers, abandonment, ghosting, young (teenage) pregnancy, mentions of parental death, mentions of absent parent, resentment, angst, anger, heartbreak, cursing, struggle, brief homelessness, shelters, co-parenting, growth, unintentional parental neglect, depression, fighting, arguments, explicit: praising, kissing, missionary, doggy, riding, oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected sex, breastplay, riding, phone (FaceTime) sex, body worship,

A/N: OKAY so I know the title sounds weird asf but it’ll make sense, i promise 😭 bold is jk’s pov - regular text is y/n’s. Since this is an ongoing series, I'll update warnings as needed.

♡ MASTERLIST

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Part 1: 8.9k

Part 2: 6.4k

Part 3: formatting

Part 4: formatting

Part 5: writing

tba!

═══════

♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

[agustdsluv]

Can we get a big one shot or a series, of single daddy JK and reader is an assistant at HYBE daycare while she temporarily figures her life out (she’s an artist trying to make means meet). She also bartends on the weekend and runs into JK one of the nights he is out with the boys.

I feel like you’ll be incredible in writing this

after hours│ jjk 18+

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: single dad jungkook, slow burn

rating: 18+ (explicit content — sexual themes)

synopsis: y/n juggles quiet days at a daycare and late nights bartending, never expecting her life to shift when jungha — a soft-spoken kid — walks in with his ridiculously attractive, unreadable dad.

between shared coffees, late-night drives, and silent promises, y/n learns that love doesn’t always arrive loudly. sometimes it shows up in small, steady ways — and maybe this time, it’s hers to keep.

-

i really hope this is applesauce.

it’s barely 10 am and my jeans are dotted in glitter glue and something sticky.

"gina," i murmur, crouching beside the low table where a few kids are coloring. "we can get you a new one, okay?"

i try to console her as she's having a full-body meltdown because her juice box exploded.

beside her, haru’s chewing on a blue crayon like it’s a snack. again.

surprisingly not the worst morning i’ve had.

i've been working here for about 6 months now, as a daycare assistant with my bestfriend. unlike her, i never aspired to work anything in child care industry.

but life doesn’t really ask what you want.

it's been hard to keep myself up recently, not after my mom's passing. i dedicated the last 2 years of my life as her caregiver, cutting my own dreams short to tend to her illness and keep us afloat.

i would do it again in a heartbeat, its just funny to think that i wasted my time just to see her go.

after she left i've just been trying to survive, i work at the daycare in the mornings, bartending at night.

my real dream? probably to be an artist.

i was always obsessed with painting, color palettes were my own way of expressing myself—

"miss y/n, how do you draw a sunset?"

jiwon holds up a paper with orange scribbles and a sun in the top corner.

i crouch down beside him, resting my chin in my hand. “well… sunsets aren’t perfect circles. they kind of melt into the sky, right? like when your ice cream melts.”

he blinks. “so i draw a puddle?”

“a pretty puddle,” i say, smiling, and he giggles.

i help him blend red and orange together with his stubby fingers, showing him how to smudge the lines just a little.

“can i put it on the wall?”

-

“alright, clean up time!” i call, clapping my hands twice. “parents are on the way!"

i help the kids line up their drawings on the little gallery wall we made near the door with their names are signed at the bottom.

"say bye to miss y/n and miss kyla!" summer's mom smilies as she carries her toddler between her arms, holding her lunch bag in the other.

"bye bye!"

i wave, already turning back toward the cubbies when i hear someone crying over a missing sock.

"look who’s here, y/n," kyla says behind me.

i glance over my shoulder.

she’s holding a sleeping haru on her shoulder, smirking. her head tilts toward the front door.

i follow her gaze and stop.

standing in the doorway, all black casual business attire and silver rings, hair slightly messy.

mr. jeon.

he's one of those quieter parents, always on time. he's been bringing his 3 year old here for about 2 months and its always been him picking him up.

and never once have i heard jungha bring up his mom.

proabably a busy woman, i cringe at myself everytime i think i have a chance.

seriously? finding your student's dad attractive? you're sick y/n.

but he's such a dilffffffffffffffffffff—

"i'm here for jungha?"

i snap back into reality as i scan for jungha, my eyes land on a small figure by the gallery wall, quietly adjusting his drawing. when he sees his dad, he doesn’t run. doesn’t yell. he just walks over and tugs the edge of mr. jeon's sleeve.

“ready?” he says softly.

he crouches down, pulling him into a one-armed hug. his hand rests gently over jungha’s back, a subtle kind of affection.

“he was good today,” i say, stepping forward. “still quiet.”

mr. jeon looks at me. dark eyes, unreadable. “he usually is.”

i nod, offering a small smile. “he drew a rocket for you.”

jungha glances up at me. not a smile, exactly — just a blink, a flicker of acknowledgment.

he stands, adjusting the strap of jungha's bag. “thanks.”

he doesn’t linger. never does.

-

i slowly close up the bar as the clock hits 12am.

we don’t shut down until 2am but the rush is over. the shift’s been steady, not as wild as it got earlier during the basketball game, but a few stragglers here and there.

yoongi (he’s a newer face), is here — tucked into the end of the bar, sipping a belgian moon. he's been coming around more often, doesn’t talk much, doesn’t cause trouble, he tips well and waits quietly usually.

“refill?” i ask, wiping down the bar in front of him.

he lifts his glass slightly.

i pour a new pint and slide it back to him. “you waiting on someone?”

he glances at the door. “yeah. friend of mine.”

the door chimes.

i look up.

and stop breathing.

in a black shirt button up shirt, silver chain around his neck, the same messy-styled hair this morning.

mr. jeon.

he doesn’t notice me right away, more focused on yoongi, walking toward him with a nod.

they do that half hug — a quick clasp of hands and a shoulder tap before settling into the bar stools beside each other. mr. jeon mutters something low, and yoongi huffs a tired laugh in response.

i’m frozen in place behind the bar, turning away and crouching down pretending to find the bottle opener.

"congrats on your cousins gallery, man, you built that?"

“a bit,” yoongi answers. “been working on it since two years ago. happy to see it up.”

another soft chuckle. mr. jeon's voice is sounds lower, quieter, more relaxed than during his pickups. i peek up from behind the bar, just enough to catch him resting his forearms against the counter, silver rings catching the low light.

he looks good.

they talk about some mutual friend i don’t know, then mr. jeon finally glances toward the drink menu on the bar.

“you got tequila?” he asks, not looking at me yet.

i don’t move. just grab the bottle automatically and start pouring. “silver or gold?”

his head tilts. “gold.”

i slide the shot across the bar without thinking.

he reaches for it, fingers brushing the base and finally looks up.

his eyes meet mine.

and he freezes.

there’s a beat of silence where even yoongi seems to notice something shift. he blinks, eyebrows just barely lifting.

“…miss y/n?”

i raise a brow. “mr. jeon.”

yoongi turns, looking between us with a slow blink. “…wait.”

mr. jeon exhales like he’s trying not to laugh. “you work here?”

“four nights a week,” i say casually, resting one arm on the bar.

yoongi stares at his drink like it’s suddenly gotten way too interesting.

mr. jeon glances at him, then back at me. “she’s a teacher at jungha’s daycare,” he says, lips tugging into the smallest smirk. “interesting seeing you here.”

yoongi clears his throat like he’s trying not to get dragged in. “small world.”

“too small,” i mutter, pouring another round for someone down the bar.

-

yoongi finishes his beer, checks his phone, and lets out a sigh.

“alright. i’m calling it. see you?”

“depends if you call me first,” mr. jeon says, not looking up from his drink.

yoongi stands, gives me a small nod. “goodnight, y/n.”

“night, yoongi.” i manage, offering a small smile.

yoongi turns to mr. jeon. “you staying?”

“for a bit.”

yoongi just shrugs and claps a hand to his shoulder. “don’t bother her too much.”

“wasn’t planning to.”

once the door shuts behind him, the silence shifts.

mr. jeon doesn’t say anything. just sips from his shot glass and scrolls through his phone while i work my way around the bar, wiping down tables and stacking chairs.

-

by the time i flip the lights behind the bar, it’s just the two of us left.

he stretches slightly, standing as i pull on my jacket.

“you can call me jungkook, by the way,” he says suddenly, voice low.

i glance over. “oh?”

“i figured since yoongi’s throwing your first name around like that...”

i smirk. “y/n.” tilting my head a little—“you sure? ‘mr. jeon’ has such a nice ring to it.”

he laughs softly, a bit breathier this time. “only during pick-up hours.”

i zip up my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder.

he doesn’t move right away, just watches me from where he’s standing, hands in his pockets, eyes following every small movement.

i head toward the front door and flick off the last neon sign in the window. silence wraps around us.

“where’s your car?” he asks.

i hesitate. “a couple blocks down.”

he nods once. no hesitation. “i’ll walk you.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i know.”

he says it so simply. i look at him for a second longer than necessary, then push the door open.

outside, the street is quiet. the sky’s clear, streetlights humming. my boots hit the pavement, his strides just slightly heavier beside mine.

we don’t talk for a while, just walk. his hands are in his coat pockets, mine gripping the strap of my bag.

after a minute, he glances over. “do you usually get off this late?”

“mm. depends on the crowd. tonight was mild.”

he hums in acknowledgment. “do you walk to your car alone every time?”

“i don’t really think about it.”

“you should.”

he’s not looking at me. just ahead, eyes calm, jaw clenched.

my car comes into view, we slow to a stop beside it.

“thanks,” i say, turning to unlock the door.

he nods. “you get home safe, y/n.”

it’s the way he says it; like it’s a request and a promise at the same time. its makes my chest feel strangely full.

i open the door, one foot inside, then glance back at him.

“see you tomorrow?”

his eyes flicker to mine, a corner of his mouth barely tugging up. “yeah. see you tomorrow.”

i get in.

he doesn’t walk away until i’ve closed the door, engine rumbling to life. hands in his pockets. watching.

-

ugh, its the morning.

i’m half-running on fumes when i open the daycare doors at 7:20.

my hairs tied up, coffee half-spilled on my hoodie, and a stack of paper stars tucked under my arm for today’s “space explorer” theme.

i kneel by the cubbies, taping up names for coat hooks when the bell above the door chimes.

i don’t look right away. just call, “morning!”

small footsteps patter across the floor.

a quiet thud against my leg.

i freeze.

then look down.

jungha.

his little arms wrap around my shin, his cheek smushed into my knee like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

i blink.

"morning jungha,”

his face stays buried for a second, then he pulls back just enough to hold up something clutched in his fist.

a folded paper rocket with red scribbles, my name in shaky letters on the side.

“you forgot this,” he mumbles.

my chest squeezes unexpectedly.

i take it, kneeling down. “thank you, astronaut jungha. i’ll keep it safe.”

his lips twitch upward, just barely—before he scurries off toward the coloring table.

then i glance up.

and there he is.

mr. jeon. leaning in the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a slate grey crewneck. same silver chain, one hand in his pocket, the other resting against the doorframe.

his gaze is steady.

not cold, not unreadable, just… watching.

something flickers between us then—small, unspoken.

“you get home okay the other night?”

my breath catches a little.

i nod. “yeah. thanks again.”

his mouth curves, subtle. “see you.”

“see you.”

and then he’s gone.

but i’m still standing there.

paper rocket in hand.

“...you good?” kyla’s voice floats in from the other side of the room, casual, but i know her too well.

i turn, slowly.

she’s leaning against the play kitchen with a plastic banana in one hand, eyebrows raised.

i clear my throat, shove the rocket into my hoodie pocket. “yep. great. just.. tired.”

“mhm.." she hums, biting back a grin. “tired from working late… or from walking to your car with mr. jeon?”

i blink. “how—”

“you had that look.” she shrugs.

“kyla.”

“he walked you to your car, didn’t he?”

i press my lips together. silence is apparently confession enough.

she whistles. “girl. i’ve been saying. the way he watches you at pick-up like he’s trying not to cross a line? but also might be imagining you in nothing but one of those tiny daycare aprons?”

i groan, dragging a hand over my face. “stop.”

“what? i’m just saying. he’s quiet. hot. good dad. you’re single. he’s single. jungha likes you. the universe is doing its job.”

“he’s a parent.”

“and?”

i narrow my eyes. “you’re impossible.”

she winks, already turning back to the kids. “just don’t be surprised when he shows up with a second paper rocket and a coffee.”

-

aaaaaaaaand.. what the fuck.

jungkook walks in at pickup with a coffee in his hand.

i dont even need to look back at kyla to hear her snickering behind me.

i pretend i don’t notice. pretend i’m completely focused on taping up the last few drawings from this morning — crooked crayon suns and glittery stick people — even as i feel him walk closer.

“you’re early,” i say, not turning.

“got off work early.”

i glance over, finally.

he holds the coffee out toward me. “thought you might want this.”

i blink. “…for me?”

he nods, a little too casual. “you looked tired the other night.”

i take it, slowly. the cup’s warm against my palm, and for a second i forget how to hold eye contact properly.

“…thanks.”

his mouth twitches. “cream, no sugar. that okay?”

“how did you—?”

“jungha says you like it like that. said you told him it was ‘adult coffee.’”

i blink again.

kyla cackles from across the room. i don’t even try to hide my glare.

“you have spies,” i mutter.

“i have a very observant kid,” jungkook replies smoothly.

i turn to see jungha run toward him at full speed, backpack swinging wildly. jungkook crouches and catches him effortlessly with one arm, pulling him in.

“did you draw another rocket today?” he asks softly.

jungha nods and glances at me. “this one’s for miss y/n.”

he digs around in his cubby and hands me a folded piece of construction paper. the rocket is lopsided, the stars are pink, and my name is spelled wrong.

i feel my chest actually ache.

“thank you, jungha,” i say, kneeling down. “i’ll put this right next to the one from this morning.”

he just nods again and slips his hand into his dad’s.

jungkook meets my eyes as he adjusts the strap on his son’s backpack. “see you around, y/n.”

“you too… jungkook.”

as they walk out, kyla sidles up next to me.

“you’re so fucked,” she sings.

i sip the coffee. it’s perfect.

“…yeah,” i whisper. “i know.”

-

it’s sunday night and the bar is slow — the kind of slow that makes you count bottle caps and restack coasters just to feel like time’s passing.

the overhead lights buzz louder without a crowd. the tv murmurs with a baseball game no one’s watching. it’s been like this all shift. mellow. forgettable.

and i was kinda hoping it wouldn’t be.

friday came and went.

so did saturday.

no jungkook.

no black button-up, no tequila order, no silent glances from across the bar that made my chest feel like it couldn’t settle.

i told myself it wasn’t a big deal. how he probably got busy or had plans or maybe walking a daycare teacher to her car once at 2am wasn’t as memorable for him as it was for me.

i mean… maybe i looked into it too much.

maybe it was just a one-time thing.

he was being polite, protective. like any decent guy would. i’ve just been tired, maybe the attention felt warmer than it actually was.

maybe i wanted it to mean something.

i lean on the bar, drag my rag across the same spot again.

“you’re spiraling,” kyla says from behind me, not even looking up as she restocks the glasses.

“i’m not.”

“you are. your face does that thing.”

i frown. “what thing?”

“the pouty one. where you’re convinced you read a guy wrong and now you’re punishing the countertop for it.”

i roll my eyes. “very specific.”

she shrugs. “very accurate.”

before i can argue, the door chimes.

i glance up automatically.

a group of three walks in. not him.

i swallow the twist of disappointment and straighten my posture. “booth or bar?”

kyla nudges my shoulder as she passes. “he’ll show.”

i don’t say anything.

but i hope she’s right, not just because it would mean he cares —

but because i think i really, really want him to.

-

the bar’s mostly clean. the register's closed, and i’m reaching under the counter for my bag when i hear kyla’s voice from the front.

“i’m heading out. you good to lock up?”

“yep,” i call back, pulling my coat on.

she swings the door open with her jacket already half-zipped, she turns to glance at me over her shoulder. “text me when you're home. don’t get kidnapped.”

“i'll try.”

the door clicks shut behind her, and then—

a knock.

i pause, slowly leaning to peek out the side window.

and there he is.

leaned up against the brick wall just outside the door. he’s scrolling his phone like he’s been there a while or like he only just got here and makes it look good.

i crack the door open. “we’re closed, you know.”

his eyes flick up from his screen, the corner of his mouth curves. “figured.”

“then what are you doing here, mr. jeon?”

he shrugs. “sunday’s slow. thought maybe you’d need a walk home.”

i blink. “you stalking my schedule now?”

“maybe.” he shifts off the wall. “or maybe your friend told me you usually bus it on sunday nights.”

kyla.

“and you waited out here?”

“you’re not the only one with good timing.”

i step out and lock the door behind me, shoulders hunching slightly against the chill. he walks beside me, casual, hands stuffed into his pocket.

“you missed friday and saturday,” i say after a beat.

“wasn’t avoiding you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“who said i was thinking that?”

he laughs under his breath. “were you?”

“if i was mistaken,” i murmur, “i’d think you have a crush on me, mr. jeon.”

his steps slow just a little.

“you’re not mistaken.”

my breath catches.

“but if it makes you feel better,” he adds, a slight curve tugging at his mouth, “i’m trying to be subtle about it.”

“this is you being subtle?”

he finally lets out a low laugh. “you should see me when i’m obvious.”

he says it like a joke, but there’s a flicker in his eyes when he looks at me that makes my pulse stutter.

i try to ignore it.

“so,” i say, clearing my throat, “do you do this for all your kid’s teachers?”

“just the pretty ones that make my kid smile,” he says, no pause.

i stop in my tracks.

he doesn’t.

just keeps walking a few steps ahead, like he didn’t just casually drop that into the night air and walk away from it.

“…wow,” i mutter, catching up. “bold.”

we fall into step again, quieter now. the wind rustles through a tree nearby.

the breeze gets there first, curling under my coat sleeve. i shiver.

he notices.

“cold?” he asks.

“a little.”

without a word, he tugs the jacket over his shoulders and holds it out. it smells like clean laundry and faint cologne. i hesitate, but he gives me a look.

i pull it over my head.

“you look warm,” he says, flicking his keys from his pocket. “come on. i’ll drive you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“i know,” he says again, unlocking the car. “but i want to.”

the inside of his car smells like pine and something faintly sweet. the passenger seat’s already warm from the heater. i buckle in, tucking my hands into the sleeves.

he glances over as he pulls out onto the road. “comfortable?”

i nod.

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. we fall into a silence, the city blurs with amber lights and red signals, windshield wipers wiping the early drizzle.

i swallow. “you know this is weird, right?”

“what is?”

“you. me. this.”

authors note: i kinda liked writing this, it was a very new trope for me but ill have part 2 soon!

[agustdsluv]

take a bite: remastered | MYG ★ MASTERLIST

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: (kind of) slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, fluff, light angst, humor, producer!yoongi, music journalist!reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up, now back and better than ever (excluding yijeong’s bitchass), original series can be found here

✧ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI), miscommunication, angst (warnings listed for each individual chapter)

✧ WORDCOUNT: 43.1k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ CHAPTERS ✧

CH 1: turn a bad night to a good time [3k]

CH 2: really nice to talk to you [3.9k]

CH 3: i wanna fold clothes for you [3.6k]

CH 4: sittin' in the studio [6.4k]

CH 5: i think i need your help [7.5k]

CH 5.5: i'm not done yet [2k]

CH 6: y'all ain’t never been to a party before? [5.6k]

CH 7: can you have a little trust in me? [8.8k]

CH 7.5: wanna do it all over again [1.9k]

✧ EXTRAS ✧

01. coming home [2.8k]

02. everything i want [7.6k]

『 askbox ★ masterlist ★ ao3 ★ taglist ★ anonymous feedback box 』

[agustdsluv]

Cradle Robbers | JJK (MASTERPOST)

Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends since diapers, and one day you decide to hook up for the fun of it, but then you end up pregnant with your best friend's baby. Chaos ensues.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 64k total

Warnings: chapter specific warnings will be included on each individual post

Author's Note: this is the masterpost for the entire series where I'll link each chapter once it's posted! the fic is organized by trimester of OC's pregnancy and further separated throughout the chapters by month from 0-9. I hope you all enjoy it and pls feel free to lmk your thoughts or discuss things with me between chapters :)

The First Trimester (M) ~ coming on 6/20/25 at 7:00 pm EST

Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.

Word Count: 26k

The Second Trimester (M) ~ coming on 6/27/25 at 7:00 pm EST

Summary: You're too busy attending baby prep classes and shopping for furniture together to focus on the significant changes living together and regularly hooking up has introduced into your relationship with Jungkook, although, it doesn't seem like either of you mind all that much.

Word Count: 17k (subject to change)

The Third Trimester (M) ~ coming on 7/4/25 at 7:00 pm EST

Summary: Everything feels different after having the worst scare of your life, but your baby's due date is fast approaching and there's still plenty more important things to do than rifle through your ever-growing feelings for Jungkook. He certainly doesn't make it easy on you when he's constantly sweeping you off your feet.

Word Count: 21k (subject to change)

[agustdsluv]

Killin' It Boy | JHS x f.Reader

“Jung Hoseok is many a thing in your life: Best friend. Part time lover. Eyecandy. And subject of your horniest desires. One night you stay over at his place, but fall asleep before anything can happen. You wake up the next morning needing him like you need air and he just so happens to need you too.”

Pairing: Hoseok x f.Reader (can be read without prior lore knowledge)

Genre: best friends with benefits!AU, Smut, Fluff if you squint really hard

Warnings: Hobi in a tanktop & grey sweats <3, Rougher Dom!Hoseok, needy sub!Reader, she just "casually" wears a thong around him, which obviously earns her what she deserves (a good dickening), making out & groping in his kitchen, which then continues in his bedroom, body worship for both, nipple play & licking for both, strength & muscle kink, now hear me out about the main thing!! she massages lube on his abs and then grinds on them :), yes this an ab humping fic :), multiple orgasms (f.receiving), afterwards he dicks her down HARD, clit play, breast play, choking & spanking (f.receiving), messy orgasms, creampie, cumming all over her chest, which he licks off <3, he calls her babygirl & good girl, the praisiest praise ever, this man can DIRTY TALK LORDD, i need a respirator fr, loving & soft aftercare

Wordcount: 6.9k

a/n: i don't want to talk about it. this is not how i wanted to return from my break but here we are 😶 i want to formally apologise for the damage this will do to you besties' pussies but i also want to say you're welcum. i put my entire sibussy into this story and it didn't help because hobi is still fucking haunting me omfg oh lord i need to run against a wall and forget all my memories fr 😩 have fun my whores i'm happy to be back 🖤

You are at Hoseok’s today.

Well, technically you are still at Hoseok’s after staying the night. Nothing happened. It was quite simple. The others aren’t currently at the estate and you grew tired of being alone. Taehyung and Jimin are on a best friend bonding trip to Hawaii, Jungkook is staying with Seokjin in Gordes because he really missed him and Yoongi had to spontaneously leave for Geneva to help his long term friend Fredrick with sorting out some issues.

And you? You honestly didn’t feel like going on a trip. So you stayed behind. You cleaned, did some gardening, you read, you took walks and enjoyed time alone. But then you got bored and so you took one very long walk to Hoseok’s.

That was yesterday and he welcomed you with homemade iced tea and pasta for dinner.

“Somehow I always end up eating pasta at your place”, you told him, enjoying it wholeheartedly.

“Sorry, it’s not my intention.”

“It’s totally fine. You make one hell of a pesto.”

Later you watched a movie where you fell asleep on his chest. Nothing happened.

Hoseok must have been awake for a while. His side is empty and cold. Which is a fucking shame because the second you woke up, you craved him. In more ways than one. You wanted his cuddles, desired his kisses and needed his touch. You huff air in frustration, staring at the empty bed longingly. It would have been so awesome if he was still here. He is always so warm in the morning and said warmth really brings out how amazing he smells.

You sit up and roll out of bed to leave for the bathroom so you can freshen up a little.

Hoseok is a very clean person. Quite frankly, he is the tidiest person you know. Each thing has his designated spot and things like dust or flyaway hairs were nonexistent in his bathroom. He left the door open and the scent of his shower gel still lingers in the air. You enjoy it as you wash your face and brush your teeth, eyes travelling over the tidy set up. He left his cologne outside today, which is totally shocking but also very tempting. You finish cleaning up and pick up the cologne to steal a sniff. Woody cedar meets warm grapefruit with a hint of shiso. It is masculine and sensual. If you could, you would bathe in it. It smells so good and knowing that he probably put it on after his shower makes you just a little droopy.

Now, you must be excused. Being close to Hoseok is very difficult because he is just so attractive. Yesterday, he opened the door in a tank top and some baggy grey sweats and you almost barked at him. It also doesn’t help that he is starting to get serious with you. Granted, you always knew that he wasn’t the funny perverted jokester he most of the times likes to give himself as, but seeing his more serious side become the norm around you just kind of hits different. He is so attractive when he simply exists without trying to put on a show. It’s in the little things. The way he closes a cabinet with his hip, the way he offers you something to drink and always makes sure that you are taken care of or when he tells you about his day while you rest on his chest and he traces your arm. He is so him these days. So completely and attractively mundane and normal and because of that, incredibly sexy.

Point being, you are just a little upset that last night didn’t lead to anything more and so you leave for downstairs with a plan. You are wearing nothing more than your lacy bra and a matching thong. You rarely wear thongs, because let’s be honest, they are fucking uncomfortable. You only wear them when you want to seduce someone and this is your plan. Seduce Hoseok.

Your heart races. This is something you never did before with him. You have no idea how he will react or if he will even like it. You might actually dissolve into dust of embarrassment if he ends up being weirded out. After all, you and he aren’t an official thing and stuff like surprising each other in your underwear isn’t just something that happens. But if you don’t try, you will always regret it.

Hoseok is eating his world-famous breakfast croffles (he always has to make them when you stay for breakfast) and sips on coffee when you enter the kitchen. He is engrossed in a video on his phone, judging by the sounds it is a dancing competition video.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, one second I can’t look away. My favourite’s dancing.”

Just as you had figured.

“Yeah? Are they any good?”

“She’s fucking sick. I’ve never seen such footwork before. How the hell is she even doing that?” he says and moves the phone closer to see better.

You run your eyes over him. Baggy grey sweats and a white tanktop, dark hair styled messily on purpose and fingers adorned by rings. He is so attractive without even trying.

This is killing you. Your heart might give up before anything else. Hoseok keeps murmuring and mumbling to himself while you prepare a cup of tea. You know your way around the kitchen, so it is easy to do.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you croffles”, he offers without looking up.

“Sure, I could go for a bite.”

“Alright, I’ll make them soon.”

“Yeah, take your time.”

He hums and continues watching. The water finishes boiling in the time being. You fill your designated mug, watching the tea bag tint the water caramel slowly.

“Damn, that was sick”, Hoseok lets out behind you.

The dance must have finished because you can hear the distinct sound of a phone being set down. It is now or never.  

You keep your back turned to him, acting busy and hoping that he looks.

“So sorry, I would have been so upset if I missed that, but now you have me all to-”

One second.

“What the fuck?” a very quiet whisper.

Two seconds.

“-yourself.” Loud again. “Damn, what’s going on with your clothes?”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t wear that to sleep. Where’s your pjs gone?”

You turn and shrug your shoulders.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

His eyes are all over you, trying to undress what little clothing still covers you.

“Well fuck”, he says and drops into his chair, running his hand over his mouth.  He meets your eyes. “Not gonna lie, ___, this is making the morning a lot sweeter.”

“It is?”

“You’re like a dream, Seriously, the sweetest dream. Damn, just, sorry I’m inappropriate. It’s just underwear and I’m acting like I’ve never seen a woman in a thong before. Sorry.”

“You’re alright”, you say and chuckle, “I like it.”

You turn again so you can get some milk. You like your morning tea with milk. Anyone who hates this combination doesn’t know true culinary luxury.

“Fucking hell ___, you’re… Nah, that’s too much.”

He stands up and closes the distance. His hand brushes your waist.

“Please look at me”, he says, using his sexy voice for it.

You turn. His gaze is darkened in desire, making sinful love to you as he looks you deep into the eyes.

“Tell me that I’m not reading into this too much and you’re not just wearing this for the sake of wearing it.”

“I wanna tell you something about me.”

“Tell me.”

“I actually hate wearing thongs. They’re things of evil.”

He chuckles, sliding his fingers under the very thin string which sits on your hip.

“So why are you?”

“Because…” you begin to whisper, closing the distance so he can taste the words.

Hoseok’s purrs softly, parting his lips. Your breath taste minty and like temptation. He craves to fill his lungs with you.

“...I had hoped that you would like them”, you finish your sentence, raking your fingers up his sculpted chest.

“I do. I like them.”

Closer. Your lips almost touch.

“Good.”

“Kiss me.” He cups your cheek, chasing your lips.

“You first.”

Hoseok smiles in amusement, eyes flickering darkly. He slides his hand to the back of your head and pulls you in. You moan, knees buckling and body chasing him instinctively. He tastes sweet like the maple syrup he likes on his croffles. His lips are so soft, drawing you in. He is definitely the one to decide the rhythm. You just have to take it, keep up with it and you do. You take it with a racing heart, moaning every time he runs his tongue over your lips. You keep up with it, touching his body because you need to have all of him. His arms are so defined without being too overly bulky. His waist is so tiny and firm and his chest is strong with the perkiest of nipples. You rub them over his tanktop. He moans softly, following it with a chuckle. He sways your bodies from side to side, wrapping his strong arms around you so he can press you against him. He purrs deeply, letting you taste his desire in a slow tongue kiss.

You moan into his mouth. It feels so good to be held that tight just because you played with his nipples. Hoseok is so good in communicating with his body and he just doesn’t stop talking. As you continue to rub and explore his chest, he continues to purr and allows his hands to travel over your back. He uses his entire palms for it, making sure that you can feel every touch he places.

You switch your touch to his neck, ruffling up his hair and meeting his tongue with your own. He sucks on your tongue with a moan, squeezing your ass. He does it so desperately that you kind of wobble from side to side, getting on your tiptoes because he lifts you just a little.

“Jump”, he orders and you follow.

He catches you, bouncing you in his arms so he gets a better grip of you and kissing you as he does. You moan, grinding against his stomach and twisting his hair. His hands are under your ass, his arms flex as he carries you with ease. His kiss tastes like heaven, but you take it away when he sits you down on the kitchen counter and you have to gasp.

“Cold”, you whine.

“Hm, sorry”, he purrs, making it up to you by kissing your neck and shoulders. He is breathing heavily, constantly purring and moaning because the mere existence of you seems to drive him wild.

You don’t even care about the cold stone under your butt anymore. Not when he raises the fire in your veins. You close your eyes, gripping the edge of the counter and keeping him close with your legs. He feels them up, kissing a hungry path down to your breasts.

“So sexy, you’re so sexy”, he lulls, grinding into you with a shaky moan.

Thud.

“Ouch.”

He shoots up.

“What was that?”

You are pouting, rubbing your head, “I hit my head on the cabinet.”

Hoseok laughs, “are you okay?” he asks, petting the aching spot.

“No. You made me roll my head back with your stupid grinding and I hit it.”

He chuckles, “okay Miss Clumsy, let’s remove you from danger”, he says and lifts you off the counter.

You giggle, ruffling his hair and gazing down at him.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Bedroom”, he says, “now fucking kiss me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Kissing him is like a drug and you are its addict. You kiss him as he leaves the kitchen, you kiss him as he walks up the stairs and you kiss him as he lies you down in his soft bed. He is the one to break the kiss, but the pleasure continues. Your neck gets kissed and sucked and because it’s Hoseok and his entire deal is being sexy, he bites you as well.

You mewl, rolling your hips up in desperate search for friction. He helps you find it on his hand. He hooks his pinkie in your thongs and pulls it to the side, connecting his thumb with your pussy so you can grind down on it.

“Hobi, oh god.”

“I love how fucking wet you already are, you’re just so good for me”, he praises. He hooks his other hand in your bra, tugging the right cup to the side so he has access to your nipple. He wraps his wet, warm and soft mouth around it, sucking on it gently and flicking his tongue over it.

If he didn’t have you wrapped all around his fingers, he definitely would now.

“Stop”, you gasp, pulling his hand away, “stop, please stop.”

“What’s the matter?” he asks, retreating his hand.

“You’re too good, I’m excited.” You fluster. “I almost came.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Don’t laugh. This is really exciting for me.”

“Why? I’m just getting you ready.”

“I wanted you the moment I woke up.”

He widens his eyes, “really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well damn. I don’t know what to say.”  

You touch his chest, “I want something.”

“Tell me.”

“I want you to be rough today, okay? No more of that careful shit.”

He chuckles, “alright, I can do that. Anything else?”

“If you want to, you can choke me or spank me.”

“Hot. That’s hot.”

“So?”

“Yes, baby. Yes”, he says and kisses you again.

You moan in happiness, dragging your hands down his torso until you reach his pants. You slip your hands inside. Hoseok follows your hands just to take his pants off. The kiss has to break when he has to step out of them. A pair of tight boxers keeps his hard cock pressed to his thigh. He is soaking the grey fabric. The view is so hot but nothing beats the view of his abs as he takes off his tanktop. He throws it to the side and steps out of his boxers, wanting to reclaim his spot between your legs afterwards but you are faster.

You sit up, surprising him by pushing him down into the sheets by his chest.

“Alright, is this what we’re doing?” he laughs, dropping down willingly.

You climb his lap, sitting down right under his hard cock. He smiles in amusement, caressing your thighs.

“You’re so sweet”, he purrs, feeling up your waist.

“Mhm”, you hum absentmindedly, lowering your mouth to his neck to worship it needily. He smells like his cologne. You quite frankly lick and suck it off of him while Hoseok gasps for air and moans in pleasure.

You only leave his neck once you consumed all of his scent, having come to the conclusion that the rest of his body smells just as good.

“Oh shit”, he lets out under his breath, chest heaving up and down quickly as you lick his nipples.

But again, you don’t stay for too long. This isn’t what you crave the most. This isn’t what you have been thinking about ever since you saw him in this stupidly tight tanktop.

“Your abs are insane. Actually insane”, you say, dragging your tongue down the middle of them. Your hands follow it along his waist, thumbs running over his obliques. Hoseok chases your mouth, abs rippling under your tongue. He sighs, skin tingling.

You are so greedy. Your mind is going wild.

“I wanna grind on them”, you murmur to yourself.

“Then do.”

“Hm?”

Hoseok props himself up on his elbows. You look at him with widened eyes.

“You heard that?”

“You weren’t really quiet, were you?” He smirks. “Do it. I don’t have them for nothing you know? I bet I can make you cum on them.”

“Holy moly, Hoseok.”

His smirk grows. He cups your cheek and traces your lips.

“Deal?”

“Yeah. Deal”, you sigh and kiss him.

Hoseok drops into the sheets and grabs your ass, moaning deeply. His grip is gentle but also, for a lack of a better word, possessive. He makes sure that you can feel it – feel him – but not in a way which would hurt. This is supposed to be good for you and it is. Hoseok is so fucking good for you.

He makes you laugh, he lets you cry, he protects you, he listens to you and remembers mundane stuff like your favourite croffle toppings. And he feels like ecstasy when you touch. He is so fucking good for you.

“Hobi…” you sigh into the kiss.

“Hm?” he purrs, rubbing your buttocks.

“You’re so addictive.”

He laughs, “what are you saying?”

“Just…fucking want you.”

He moans as you kiss him, giving you a gentle push to make you finally scoot up his body. He is needy too. He can’t deny it anymore.

The kiss has to break for the thing to work. His head is supported by two pillows, laying higher this way so he has good view of his abs.

You crawl off his lap. Hoseok watches with heavy eyes as you take off your thong. Then you walk off.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

“Drawer was it?” you ask, walking to his bedside table.

“For what? Come back here.”

You open the drawer. Bingo.

“Lube”, you say and show him the bottle of water based lube he keeps close by.

Hoseok tuts, smirking in amusement.

“What do you need that for, mhm?”

“You’ll see.”

You climb back on his lap and sit down. Hoseok instantly touches you, running his hands up and down your thighs and waist. He looks at you as if he wanted to devour you whole.

“So sexy. My babygirl’s so fucking sexy”, he purrs, spurring you on.

With confidence, you open the bottle of lube and squirt a sinful amount of it onto his abs. They twitch and flex as a reaction to the cold.

“Shit.” He laughs, squeezing your hips. “That’s cold, gotta warn me.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I could watch your abs twitch like that”, you say and put the bottle aside. You connect your hands with his stomach to massage the lube all over his skin.

“That’s hot…fuck, I like that”, he purrs, tensing and relaxing his abs wherever you touch him. “Yeah, just like that, babygirl…”

“How do you even get these abs? They’re insane.”

“Workouts, dancing, I’m just sexy, what can I say”, he says, following it with a rather cutesy giggle.

You agree, “you are. You’re so sexy.”

You spread the excess lube on your pussy and finally do what you need. You position yourself above his abs.

“That’s so hot. Use me, babygirl, you got it”, he encourages you, offering you his hands if you needed support. He has his arms propped on his elbows so you can really lean your weight on them.

You take them, of course you do. Those are Hoseok’s hands. You would be dumb if you didn’t take them. The lube smears between your palms, forcing him to grip you so much tighter than he normally needs to. It’s so sexy.

Your pussy touches his stomach. You exhale shakily, heart beginning to race. This is new to you and it’s already amazing.

“That’s good, babygirl. You like that?”

“Yeah, I do”, you say and begin moving. You roll your hips up and down on his abs, finding out soon enough that you can feel the definition. “Okay, woah yeah I do.”

He chuckles, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. He can’t decide whether to look at your pretty pussy on his abs or your cute face scrunched up in concentration. Maybe both because he is fucking into you. So into you.

“Take it at your pace, yeah? I’m right here, just enjoy.”

“Hoseok…”

Your pussy is mesmerising. The angle naturally hides a lot from his eyes, but what Hoseok can see is enough to drive him insane. You fit right around his abs, moving so perfectly on him. He feels you getting wetter and wetter. It’s so warm, really bringing out how fucking soft you are.

“Hobi, you feel so good”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“I do?” He flexes his abs.

“A-ah”, you moan with your voice pitched, scrunching your nose.

“So sexy”, Hoseok whispers, doing it again just to hear you moan and feel you clench.

You didn’t think that you could feel it so well. You could fucking count them just by rubbing your pussy over them.

One, two, three.

“Hoseok, ah, Hoseok.”

Four, five.

“You’re such a pretty woman, riding my abs so well. Good girl, make yourself feel good.”

Six, seven.

“Hobi please.”

Eight. He’s got an eight pack. This sexy motherfucker actually has an eight pack and its currently getting marked by you. He is the canvas and you are the artist, creating impure art.

“Please what, babygirl? Want me to help you?”

You open your bra and take it off.

“Touch me”, you beg, guiding his lube covered hands to your tits.

His abs tense under you because of the position. He purrs deeply, watching with widened pupils as he covers your breasts in a sinful layer of lube. He rubs his palms all over your chest, drags them down your sides and up over your stomach, repaying the favour this way. Now you are both covered in lube, skin glistening in the morning light and bodies heated up.

“My sexy woman. Fuck, lube’s your best look”, he rasps, cupping your breasts to knead them in his messy fingers.

You twitch and tremble on him, leaking more of you on his hard abs. Praise paired with his touches is a difficult combination to handle. It turns you on so much to be messy and he is calling you sexy for it.

You press yourself tighter to his abs, speeding up your movements because he has you desperate. It squelches in wet sin, only adding to the pleasure. The fact that you can hear the texture of them…

“Fuck, this feels so good…”

“Yeah? Like it?”

“So much, ahm…”

“That’s it. Ride my abs, good girl. You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his thumbs on your nipples. It’s like he knows how a woman works. It’s insane how good his touch feels. Just one second of it and you already find yourself addicted to it.

“Hoseok, fuck please.”

“Tell me, babygirl.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Won’t.”

“Thank you”, you moan and throw your head back, arching your back. You grab his strong arms, chasing the feeling of him. His hands on you, his thumbs on your nipples and his abs under your leaking cunt. You chase it, chase it, chase it and it’s getting better and better.

By now you have his abs so messy that creamy strings of your slick stick to his skin, webbing themselves from muscle to muscle. It looks so good against his honey skin.

You don’t get to see it. Your eyes are rolled back by now.

But Hoseok sees it and he is hooked up on the view, leaking on his lowest abs and wishing for you to just take him in. But he can’t rush you. He promised you an orgasm on his abs and he isn’t one to break promises. Especially not when it comes to you. You’re fucking precious to him and the promises he makes you, sacred.

So he keeps his fantasy a little fantasy while he tenses and flexes his abs under your puffy cunt and plays with your pretty nipples. He switches between massages of your chest and attention to your nipples with little flicks and rubs. The pleasure courses through you in waves.

“I think I’m close.”

“That’s so good. You’re doing so well”, he praises, sitting up more just so his abs ripple for you.

You shake, digging your fingers into his arms.

“Oh fuck.”

“You feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you…”

“Mhhm I feel you too. You’re so sexy on my abs. My sexy babygirl”, he rasps and takes your nipples between his fingers to tug gently and rub them. At the same time he rolls his hips up, letting you feel how his abs work when he fucks.

“Hoseok holy fuck, ah!” you croak and break. Your entire body just freezes. Hoseok moans loudly at the feeling of your throbbing pussy and takes your hips between his hands just to move them over his abs for you.

You sob, gripping his wrists as you tremble. You thought it couldn’t get any better, but he proves you wrong as he guides you.

“Ho-hobi. Hobi please. Please.”

“I know babygirl, I know. You’re cumming so good for me. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Hobi…”

“I’ve got you. I’m here”, he talks you through it because that’s what he does. He talks you through it, helps you ride it out and enjoys the sensations with a dizzy head.

He can feel when it stops for you. He is so fucking greedy for more but knows not to be. You always get a little vulnerable after your first orgasm. It’s as if your mind finally catches up with the fact that you were horny and it is figuring out whether to be embarrassed or want more.

You sit on him with your entire weight, eyes widened and glassy.

“I…”

“Hush, you’re okay”, Hoseok assures you, lifting you just to sit up and put you down on his lap instead. The creamy mess you left on his abs smears all over your stomach now that are you so close. He has his hands on your back, holding you safely as he kisses your neck.

“What are you doing to me?” you choke out, dropping into him.

He moves his head so it wouldn’t get squished. His chin now rests against your shoulder while you have your face pressed into the crook of his neck. Your arms are hooked behind his head and your hands are in his hair.

“I promised you an orgasm on my abs, didn’t I?” he speaks in a soft voice, scratching your back soothingly.

“Yeah, but.”

“But what?”

“It felt so good.”

He chuckles, squeezing your buttocks.

“So? Where’s the problem?”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. You cup his face.

“I want more.”

“What was that?”

“I want more”, you say and slide your hand to his cock.

Hoseok tenses his stomach, showing you with a slight squint of his eyes that he feels your touch and he likes it.

“Tell me”, he rasps.

“I want more, please.”

“No. Tell me that you can’t get enough.”

“I can’t get enough.”

He smiles darkly, lowering his eyes seductively. He moves his head closer, letting you taste his words.

“Beg for it.”

“I can’t get enough, please Hobi.”

“You can do better than that”, he rasps, looking at your lips.

“Fuck. Please fuck me, I want more of you, please”, you beg, heart racing like crazy and head dizzy. It’s so hot to have to beg. Especially when he makes you work for it. And you work for it. You grind your hips down on his thigh, twisting your hand around his cock in hopes of convincing him.

“I like that, babygirl. Say it again. One more time”, he whispers, craving to kiss you. Your hand on his cock is making it so difficult to hold back.

“You’re a tease”, you whine.

“Fucking say it again, babygirl”, he orders, giving your ass a warning squeeze. 

“Please fuck me, please don’t tease me anymore please”, you whimper and try to warm his heart by dancing your tongue over his lips.

Hoseok growls and moves quickly. He picks you up only to pin you into the sheets and give you what you ask for.

You squeak, tensing up in surprise.

He knows how to do it so it fills you with electrical shocks of pleasure. He soaks up the view of your surprised eyes widening only to go out of focus and roll back all within a second.

“Go on say it. Say what you’re thinking”, he challenges you, pumping his aching cock into you in a desperate rhythm.

“Feels so good. Hobi, you feel so good.”

“Yeah? And what do well mannered women do, mhm?”

“Moan for you,” you moan, arching your back.

He chuckles, sliding his hand under your back and rewarding you with his entire length.

“Good guess, but no.”

You squeeze down on him so hard that he knows it was intentional. He growls, twisting the sheets beside your head.

“No, that’s not either. Go on, use your brain. What do we say after getting something?”

“Thank you”, you moan, twisting the sheets as well. There are no words on this earth to describe how good his cock makes you feel. First his abs get you sensitive and now you have his girthy cock splitting you open. This is actual heaven.

“Good girl. That’s it. Thank me. Go on.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you”, you chant, getting louder and needier because your moans earn you more and more of what he has to offer.

He moves his hips as if he was on stage, performing and dancing just for your pleasure. Your second thank you earns you his skilled fingers on your clit and your third thank you earns you his other hand around your throat.

“Hoseok!” you wail, grasping his lower arm just to squeeze him closer to your throat.

He purrs deeply, tightening his fingers. Your pulse races like crazy, fluttering and faltering as he slowly and gently cuts off the blood flow to your brain. He towers over you, kneeling on the sheets as he makes dirty love to you. But you don’t get to see how sexy he looks. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your mind is completely lost in the pleasure.

“I’m going insane, you feel so fucking good. Fucking wanted you like crazy”, he says and moans loudly.

You match his freak with an even louder moan, clenching down on his cock because vocal men are such a turn on. Especially when it’s Hoseok. His voice is fucking made to make sex noises.

“Shit, woah…that feels good. Do it again”, he moans.

You clench, toes curling because it makes it a lot better for you as well. You can feel every vein on his cock this way, can feel his tip fuck against your g-spot and feel his base stretch you out. So you clench and clench and clench, whimpering and mewling for him.

“Yes”, he growls, chasing the tight heaven you offer him, “yes, yes, fucking yes. Babygirl, yes.”

He fucks you right where it feels the best. Over and over again he hits The Spot while his fingers flick your clit quickly and his hand reminds your throat that you are his’.

“Yes, babgirl, yes. You-”

“Hoseok”, you interrupt him.

“Yes?”

“You’re making me- oh god, Hoseok please. I have to- ah!”

“It’s okay, you can cum. Don’t hold back”, he encourages you, helping you with a soft rub on your clit and by letting go of your neck.

“Thank you!” You climax on his cock with a sob, writhing in ecstasy because this is so much more intense than the first one. Your head pounds from the blood rushing back. You feel your orgasm everywhere between your legs, thanking him over and over again.

“That’s it, don’t hold back. Good girl, I can’t get enough of you”, he talks you through it just as he fucks you through it. He doesn’t slow down. Why should he? When it makes you feel so good.

“More. More please. Please, oh. Please.”

“Wasn’t gonna stop anyway”, he says and easily fixes you to how he wants you. He rolls you to your side and bends your leg around his hips. He faces your pussy and just like this, he enters you. He gives you all of him, watching in delight how you tense up and writhe in pleasure because the position allows him to hit your g-spot more precisely.

“Thank you. Hobi please. Thank you.”

“I fucking love when you beg like this. Makes me wanna fuck you so much harder”, he purrs, using his abs and back muscles to give you the fuck of your lifetime.

Hoseok is many a thing. Best friend. Occasional lover. Artist. Pornstar, dancer and man obsessed. One thing is for sure however, he will use his mesmerising ability to move his hips to give you cock in ways you haven’t experienced yet. This is a passion project for him and he treats his passion projects with utmost and precise care. Because he likes them to be perfect.

If that means that he has to rearrange your guts and permanently carve himself into your walls, then so be it. Hoseok is down for the ride.

“Please, Hobi. It’s too much”, you sob and bury your face in the mattress. He watches how you bite into the sheets, how you grasp them with shaky fingers and how your toes curl.

“Just say it if you want me to stop. Hm?” He stops his hips. “Wanna say it?”

“No!” you practically yell at him. “Don’t stop please!”

Hoseok chuckles and picks his rhythm back up. He spanks your ass.

“Bad girl. Yelling is rude.”

You whimper, spilling tears. This is all part of his plan isn’t it? He listened to your wishes, memorised them and then planned the sexiest way of including them. First the hand around your throat and then he works you up to be yelling just so he can spank you. Holy fuck, this is all just part of his plan.

“Again please”, you beg desperately, leaking on his cock just as you leak tears into the sheets.

Spank! In sync with a rough thrust of his skilled hips.

“Thank you!”

“You’re so polite. Keep it up, babygirl. So good”, he rasps, rewarding you with two consecutive spanks and rough thrusts.

“Thank you”, you sob, clenching down on is cock every time he lands his bejeweled hand on your ass.

“So good.”

Spank!

“Hobi”, you sob and go back to biting the sheets.

Hoseok continues. He is panting by now, growling each time he exhales. He spanks you not because you need to be punished, but as an act of infatuation. He does it because it gives you pleasure, because it makes your cunt so tight on his cock and because it makes such a pretty sound.

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well. My good fucking woman. So good”, he praises, rubbing your clit with his other hand because you deserve only the best.

“O-i im uing”, you murmur into the sheets.

“What was that?”

You show him. Hoseok yelps, tensing up.

“___ baby…holy fuck, so tight”, he moans, throwing his head back and burying his cock in you to the very base just so he can feel every second of your orgasm. He didn’t plan on making you cum already so this one comes as a surprise.

You sob and wail, convulsing in paradisal pleasure before it gets too much and you squirt all over him.

“Fucking hell, you gonna make me cum. This is so hot”, Hoseok growls, suddenly moving like a messy, clumsy teenage boy. Coordinating spanks and clit rubs is impossible and his hips stutter whenever he pushes back in. So he holds onto a good chunk of your ass, bruising it between his strong fingers as he claims your weeping cunt. You are so tight and now so fucking wet. Your orgasm sticks to his abs as well, soaking his cock and balls. The view is so sexy to him, making it hard to keep moving. “Fuck, I’m close.”

You fight yourself to your elbow and reach for him.

“Please Hobi.” you beg, dragging your nails down his abs so hard that it leaves marks.

Hoseok looks into your puppy eyes and knows that he is done for.

“___ baby”, he moans, eyes going cross before rolling back and closing. His hips stop when his cock is deepest. He grunts, scrunches his face and you can finally feel it. His hot, creamy orgasm. It fills you up, sticks to you, makes you his’.

“Thank you, ah Hoseok, thank you”, you whimper, feeling up his abs as they ripple and tense rhythmically.

“Baby, this feels so good. Holy fuck, can I cum on your chest?”

“Yeah. Please.”

“Urgh fuck”, he growls through gritted teeth and pulls out of you. He flips you to your back and spanks your clit with his cock just once to get the message across before he angles it differently and jerks off over your chest to get that last wave of pleasure all over it.

“Hobi”, you whimper, watching the sinful show with hungry eyes. Look at his abs tense…

“That’s my woman. Fucking wear me around your neck, that’s my woman. So fucking good, urgh.”

You cry for him, gazing up at him with devoted, droopy eyes. You can’t decide whether to look at his heavy cock spurting white cum all over you and his long fingers or his glistening abs or his scrunched face. Maybe you look at all of it while you touch and scratch his abs and arch your tits closer to him.

Hoseok finishes in five sloppy strokes.

“Fuck ___”, he drops his cock into the mess he just made, playing with it by swirling his hips.

“Did you like that?” you ask him in a sweet voice.

He nods his head with closed eyes, catching his breath.

“You’re so sexy, babygirl. Can’t believe you let me do that”, he says and opens his eyes.

He drags his heavy cock down to your pussy, rubbing it through your well-loved folds and over your sensitive clit.

You squeak, closing your legs.

“Sensitive.”

He chuckles, kissing your knee.

“Sorry”, he says, pushing your legs open, “let me kiss it better.”

“Hoseok, god”, you gasp and sigh, melting into the sheets as he runs his mouth over your ruined body. This is so sinful and sensual but also soothing and relaxing.

He licks the cum from your chest, kisses the sore spots on your thighs and loves your neck with his lips. The mess between your legs he leaves. Personal preference maybe. You won’t complain. It’s so nice to leak him. You feel so fulfilled.

“How are you doing?” he whispers against your ear.

“I’m in shock.”

He chuckles, “is that a good thing?”

You nod your head vigorously, giggling.

He smiles, kissing your ear before he lifts his head. He is propped up on his elbow, resting against your side which makes it easy to caress your torso. His eyes are filled with soft adoration. He is glowing when he smiles.

“So how did I do? You liked what I did?”

“I get it now”, you whisper.

“Get what now?”

“Why you’re so cocky about your skills.”

He lowers his eyes shyly.

“Don’t say that.”

“You’re so good.”

“Ah, you”, he lets out and smooches you with a giggle. “Thanks. Wah, now I’m embarrassed.”

You snicker, “don’t be. I liked it so much. Oh god, I need a minute.”

“Mhm, take your time. I’ll be here to take care of you”, he says and uses the moments of relaxation to kiss you all over your body. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No”, you sigh, writhing in relaxing pleasure. You don’t mind at all. You could never mind him. He is permanently settled in your brain, permanently living into your heart and permanently carved into your walls.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he whispers, kissing your inner thighs. They smell like sex. Hoseok soaks up the scent like an addict, leaving marks of devotion next to the spots his rough handling left. He leaves out your pussy again.

“Why do you do that?” you ask, playing with his hair.

“Do what?” he asks, looking up from your lower stomach.

“Leave it out”, you say, rolling your hips up.

“Because I can and I want to”, he purrs, kissing a quick path up to your face. He lies down next to you, cradling your face. “And because you should feel me a little longer.”

“But how will I get up and eat my croffles?”

He smiles against your lips and kisses you.

“Breakfast in bed, duh.”

“Really?” you ask, eyes widened in surprise. Such romance is new from him. He makes your heart race.

“Mhm, really. You should relax, let me treat my woman.”

His woman. He kept saying it as he fucked you. You don’t correct him. You smile and nod your head.

“Yeah, okay. But I can’t guarantee that I can keep my hands to myself when you do.”

“Do you have to be somewhere today?”

“No. But I don’t see how-”

“Then I don’t see the problem”, he flirts and pecks your lips.

You get it now. And it makes you giggle. He smiles, pecking your cheek.

“Relax. I’ll be back with breakfast”, he says and before he rolls out of bed, you stop him.

You steal a kiss, ending it by biting his lower lip. He smiles at you, eyes sparkly and infatuated by you.

“Don’t take too long, please.”

“Promise”, he seals it with a peck then finally gets out of bed to leave the bedroom naked.

“Aren’t you forgetting your clothes?”

“I cook best naked.” He gives you a cocky grin and a wink then closes the door.

“Fuck”, you drop into the sheets and blow raspberries. It is official, you won’t ever get him out of your head.

[agustdsluv]

Another Time Masterpost

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Total Word Count: 75k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: explicit. MDNI. 18+. smut. angst. childhood lovers, main character death. gore (i tried to not be super gross 😭 i’m srry). blood. thriller. harassment. stalking. cursing. fighting. cheating?. jealousy. unwanted touch. miscommunication. emotional breakdown. alcohol consumption. drinking to excess. smoking cigarettes. assault (physical & verbal). attempted sexual assault. drug usage. gaslighting. emotional child abuse. child neglect. shitty ass parents. this is literally ALL over the place. explicit content : doggy. fingering. oral r&g (m&f). missionary. breast play. body worship. cowgirl. kissing. praising. slight degradation (name calling). unprotected sex (pls be better irl 🙏🏻 this is solely fiction and you should use protection!!!). spanking.

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A/N: so I’ve been slowly working on this and bc I’m so anal, I had to write the entire thing multiple times before posting. So if you notice that my writing changes bc of taking classes/planning/editing, no you didn’t 😀 Please any criticism or comments are welcome!! 🫶 I want to improve in any way I can and I will deadass go in and edit a chapter before posting. Okay, I’m done yapping (:

When I tell you that this hoe can get confusing, TRUST ME, I know. I confused myself half the time. BOLD is presented as dreams.

Hopefully it makes more sense.

♡ MASTERLIST

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Chapter 1: 7.9k

Chapter 2: 7.6k

Chapter 3: 7.5k

Chapter 4: 7.5k

Chapter 5: 9.7k

Chapter 6: 7.6k

Chapter 7: 6.5k

Chapter 8: 7.4k

Chapter 9: 9.6k

Epilogue: 3.4k

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♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

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Completed: 06/06/2025