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suga-kookiemonster · 3 years

Text

ego 09

summary⇢ what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way. pairing⇢ jungkook/reader word count⇢ 12.9k ☠️ rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | humor | college!au | fuckboi!au | fratboy!au warnings⇢ sexual content, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, everybody is still pissed tf off and consequently has an attitude, but then also everyone is soft 🥺, drinking/partying, taehyung gets done dirty and also can’t tell his disney princesses apart, seokjin mulls over his many career options

a/n⇢ THE END IS FINALLY HERE 😭😭😭😭 i’m so relieved, but also so, so sad. thank you to everyone who joined me on this long, goofy journey and encouraged me to keep going with all of your wonderful messages and feedback, and thank you to everyone who took the time to welcome my baby into their lives and love her as much as i do! i truly appreciate every single one of you beyond words and i only hope you feel your time spent with me was time well spent. thank you, thank you, thank you 💜💖💞💕💗💝💟💘

this chapter’s mood is this. hope you enjoy!

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

No matter how it seemed to have stopped for you, time ultimately went on, your friends trickling out of the exhibit one by one. Finally, when the clock declared the event to be officially over, you and your classmates were free to leave, your professor promising that grades would be uploaded within the next few days.

But despite stressing over this project all semester, you found yourself no longer caring very much about it, your attention completely stolen by lingering thoughts of what Namjoon had told you. So, gut tightening in knots, you made good on your promise and gave Jungkook a call as you walked out the building, wanting to rip the bandaid right off. Hopefully he was still in the area and you could just get this over with.

The phone rang twice. But then in the middle of the third ring, you were so abruptly sent to voicemail that there was a very high probability that he had rejected your call.

Wow. Wow. You knew for a fact that he didn’t have any more finals that day, so the only logical explanation was that he was ignoring you. Which, fine! He was frustrated. You got it.

Because so were you. Beyond frustrated at the way he had made you offer your heart, completely against your will. Made you feel desired and safe enough to offer your body, against your better judgment. Frustrated at this push and pull, frustrated that he had presumably done it all simply to just prove he could.

Frustrated that Namjoon had alluded that none of that had been the case at all.

But though not in so many words, Jungkook had effectively shown you today that this was his official breaking point—the tension in your relationship so high that any additional push or pull would make it all snap.

There was no other option. It was time to finally lay this all to rest.

You hovered on campus, waiting fifteen more minutes before calling back. Still giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had been busy that exact moment you called—maybe he was in the library, or the middle of a conversation, or whatever. It could have been anything. But when you called again, you found yourself shot to voicemail after the very first ring. There was no doubt—he was ignoring you.

An incredulous laugh fell from your lips at the irony of it all. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Your first stop was his dorm. His roommate, whom you had only met once at a party, was confused to see you at the door but quickly helped you confirm Jungkook was not there. After that, you tried the Beta Tau house, figuring it to be a good bet, considering Jungkook spent most of his downtime there. However, he was nowhere to be found, the only people around the brothers who actually lived there.

Namjoon, ever the good friend, was sympathetic to your plight. “Just give him a little space,” he told you over cup ramen at the kitchen table. Normally, you would refrain from having such a sensitive conversation out in the open like this, but it just so happened that the room was empty save for the two of you and Taehyung, who was busy making himself a sandwich at the counter. Tae so frequently resided in his own little world that you highly doubted he was even paying attention to the ongoing drama that was your life.

“Maybe this is just a bad idea,” you sighed into your noodles. “I pushed him to leave me alone, and now he finally is. Maybe it should just stay this way.”

“And just let this moment linger for the rest of your life?” Joon asked skeptically. “Because that’s what will happen. You’ll always wonder what if.”

“Well, I can just add it to the list then. Right under what would have happened if I hadn’t accidentally swallowed a Barbie shoe when I was three.”

“_____,” he scoffed. “It’s not like he’s going away. He’s in our friend group and you’re gonna see him all the time. Do you really want to leave this unfinished and awkward?”

You grimaced at the reminder, and Namjoon sighed, delivering his next words much more gently.

“Listen, I know it’s scary. Putting yourself out there is always scary. Taking a chance is always scary. But when taking a chance can result in making you happy, isn’t it sometimes worth the risk?” He held your gaze. “And isn’t limbo ultimately worse?”

You paused, biting your lip as you let his words marinate. He wasn’t wrong—the past few weeks had been long and torturous. Things couldn’t really get worse than that.

“Just give him a little space,” Namjoon continued, downing the dregs of his broth. “He’ll have to appear eventually, and you can talk then.”

But by the time eventually rolled around, you would have lost your nerve. You needed to do this now, or not at all. Needed to end this now.

Your nails tapped against the table agitatedly as you thought. “…Actually, you know what? There’s one more place I haven’t tried. I think I know where he is,” you murmured, more to yourself than anything. With a resolute nod, you turned, voice louder. “Tae, can I borrow your car?”

“Huh?” The man in question perked to attention at his name, freezing in his closing of the refrigerator door. His oversized sweatshirt, mussed hair, and prescription glasses clued you in to the fact that he had likely just taken a study break to grab something to eat and had not, in any shape or form, planned to be roped into your drama.

“Do you mind if I borrow your car?” you repeated with what you hoped was a convincing smile. “I’ll bring it back in mint condition, I promise.”

Taehyung gave you a nonchalant shrug, taking a large bite of his sandwich and rooting around in his pockets. “Here you go,” he mumbled, mouth full, tossing you the keys.

Namjoon raised a brow. “Where are you going that you need a car?”

But you were already on your feet and looking for where you set your purse. “I’ll call you later—I gotta go. Thanks, Tae!”

An affirmative noise joined the thumbs up Taehyung threw you on his way back to his room. And as soon as you located your purse next to the sink, you were on your way out too.

You were, in general, someone who could only be described as directionally-challenged. Now, however, your brain was somehow easily able to recall exactly where you needed to turn, navigating you down the correct streets. Still, you found yourself much too preoccupied to appreciate this accomplishment, heart thundering in your ears as you turned into the familiar parking lot.

Said parking lot was devoid of all cars, save yours. But you were sure your hunch was right, so the visible lack of evidence that other people were in the area wasn’t enough to dissuade you from getting out and taking the small hike to your final destination. And when you finally made it through the clearing, you were greeted to the familiar back of someone sitting alongside the lake.

Things looked different from the last time you were here. The grass, just starting to regain its vibrant hue, yielded easily to your footsteps instead of crunching in protest, and the water, no longer caught in winter’s clutches, lapped lazily at the shore.

“Jungkook.”

Things looked different, but, from the way Jungkook’s body visibly tensed at the sound of your voice, the way he didn’t even bother turning around…that was probably because they were.

Jungkook didn’t acknowledge your approach right away, attention still firmly on the sketchbook in his lap. It took a few long moments before he bothered to speak. “How’d you find me?” he asked finally, still not looking at you.

“I remembered you saying you like to come here to think.”

A humorless laugh left him. “So you actually do listen to some of what I say.”

Defensiveness had you snapping back before you realized. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

It was then that he finally turned to face you, pencil dropped carelessly into his sketchbook, sketchbook resolutely shut with a muffled thud. His eyes steely and rimmed in red, his mouth tight. “_____, what are you doing here?”

Your stomach twisted at the question. “You…you said you wanted to talk.”

“So now you want to talk?”

“Now that we’re in an appropriate setting that is not my final exam?” you snipped, irritation starting to flare. “Yeah.”

You could practically see his hackles raise at that, and you forced yourself to let out a slow breath. You may be in the right this time, but you certainly hadn’t been all the other times he had tried to approach you. There wasn’t any point in you tracking him down if you weren’t going to try. This wasn’t going to go anywhere unless you lowered your defenses.

You had nothing to lose.

Carefully, as if approaching a dangerous animal that might snap, you lowered yourself down next to him on the grass. Jungkook didn’t snap, but if the clench of his jaw was any indication, he wasn’t exactly pleased by your presence either. The air felt tense between you, the silence thick and heavy, and it was causing a lump in your throat that you were having a hard time breathing around. You tried to swallow it down. “…Yes, I want to talk,” you tried again. “If…If you still want to, that is.”

The ball was in his court—you had extended the olive branch, and it was up to him to decide whether to take it. Jungkook let you stew in the uncomfortable quiet for long enough that you wondered if you should simply take his silence as his answer.

Then, he shifted.

“I just—” A long exhale passed his lips. “If anything else, I thought we were at least friends!”

That threw you for a bit of a loop, stomach dropping. “Jungkook, we are! Of course we are—”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded hotly. “Why did you…”

You watched as his mouth promptly clacked shut, a tension in his jaw as he seemed to grind his teeth in favor of finishing his sentence.

“What?” you asked hesitantly, voice soft. “Why did I what?”

For a moment, he didn’t react, and you wondered if he had heard you at all. But then, for the first time since you had arrived, he turned to look you dead in the eye. “Why did you leave?” he whispered.

He had given you no context, but he obviously didn’t have to, the question sending icy tendrils of shock throughout your entire body.

Straight to the point. It looked like he was forcing you to get straight to the point, to stop the dance you always did around things that made you uncomfortable. Nothing to lose, you reminded yourself over and over, a mantra. You have nothing to lose.

And so, with a shaky breath, you decided once and for all to put all your cards on the table.

“I was scared,” you admitted quietly, heart pounding. “Scared because I like you. A lot. And I feel like we’re not on the same page and that terrifies me.”

The responding silence stretched between you as Jungkook processed your words, his expression running through several emotions before finally settling on dumbfounded. “What? What do you mean, not on the same page?” He turned away, blinking rapidly at his hands before turning back to you in bewilderment. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you started, and oh god, you felt it coming. The tidal wave of emotion that was about to pull you under, the bullet train of feelings that was rapidly speeding you towards the point of no return. “That I like you a lot. That I’m always thinking about you. That somehow, over all these months, I’ve realized that I want to be around you all the time, because being around you makes me happy. And I know that these feelings are a lot, I know that, and I’m scared because I know that you don’t feel the same way.”

Jungkook’s eyes had grown wider and wider as you rambled on, but now was when he interrupted you with an indignant scoff. “And how do you know that? Did you even bother to ask me?”

“I didn’t have to ask you!” you snapped. “I’m not stupid. You even told me out of your own mouth that you consider me no different than all other girls. What other way is there to interpret that?”

His jaw dropped slightly, stupefied, eyebrows scrunched in complete consternation. You saw when the lightbulb finally went off. “Is that what this is about?” he asked incredulously. “_____, I didn’t mean it like that, I promise! I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” you scoffed. “Who in their right mind would joke like that right after having sex?”

“We always joke,” he countered defensively. “I didn’t realize—”

“Jungkook, how can it be a joke when it falls in line with everything else you say? How would that not be taken at face value!?” you demanded. “Please don’t lie to me. I know exactly how this goes. I know exactly how you operate, and, frankly, so does the whole campus. So you can’t fault me for believing you when you show me who you are.”

Jungkook recoiled as if he had been struck, looking everything the kicked puppy. You refused to fall into that trap, swallowing down the bile starting to creep up your throat as the two of you stared at each other in the stretched silence. When he finally replied, his voice was quiet, barely audible over the trickling water nearby. “I won’t deny that that’s what people think about me, because I can’t. But you’re saying all this stuff as if you don’t know me. You know me.” He swallowed. “Or at least, I thought you did. Do you really not know me at all?”

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s not fair. All of these people can’t be lying on you—we both know you have a reputation for a reason. And you have yet to give me any solid reasons to believe that is no longer the case.”

“See, now you’re the one not being fair. What does that even mean? I thought my intentions have been pretty obvious for a while now.”

You let out a humorless laugh, motioning pointedly between the two of you. “Clearly not.”

Jungkook let out an agitated huff, running a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he started, closing his eyes for a few seconds to gather himself before setting his intense gaze on you again, resolute. “Clearly we communicate in two different ways and we keep missing each other. So I’m just gonna ask you flat out—what exactly is it you need from me for you to finally understand and accept that I want to be with you?”

Your breath caught, completely unprepared for and disbelieving of this turn of events. “W-Well, you’ve never said that before, so this is a start.”

“Never said what? That I want to be with you?” Wow. This man really had the nerve to sit there and look at you like you had said something truly ridiculous and not like he had just tilted your world its axis.

You struggled to voice a reply, head spinning. “Jungkook,” you finally said, taking a few breaths to calm your racing heart. “If you don’t say it, how do you expect me to not just assume that you aren’t just trying to fuck me?”

“Well, in case you forgot, I actually did that already. But I’m still here,” he pointed out, tone light and self-depreciating. “Following you around for weeks like a clown just to get you to talk to me.” You weren’t sure what expression you were now making, but Jungkook’s eyes softened at whatever he saw on your face, a small, shy smile touching his lips. “You haven’t really given me the opportunity to say it. But I do want to be with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? What do you mean, oh?” His elbow tapped you playfully in the side. “And you call me the cryptic one—that’s all you have to say?”

You looked away, flustered. “I’m processing, okay! Give me a second.”

But Jungkook wasn’t having it, fingers lightly trailing across your chin until he could cup your face properly and guide it back in his direction, eyes carefully roving your expression. “What, do you still not believe me? What do I need to do for you to believe I’m serious?”

“I..” You swallowed, struggling not to look away. The question slid off your tongue before your brain could even process it. “What did you submit for your application?”

Jungkook’s hand dropped, blinking at the sudden change of subject. “What?”

“For your major. You had to submit some of your art, right?”

He didn’t answer right away, seemingly weighing his options in his head. “I submitted a few pieces,” he agreed finally, voice quiet. “I…I’ve actually tried showing you before.”

Your heart clenched, wondering just how many times within the past few weeks he had attempted to share something so personal with you and you had unknowingly brushed him off. You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. “I didn’t realize,” you admitted. “I wasn’t paying attention then, but I promise you I’m paying attention now. Would you mind showing me now?”

There were a few more moments of deliberation on his end, but they ultimately didn’t last long. Jungkook opened his long-forgotten sketchbook and rifled through to a certain page, handing it over to you.

You peered at the book in your hands curiously, a bit puzzled. It was a sketch of a well-detailed landscape, so uncanny that you could easily recognize the setting as the lake where you were sitting at now, down to a certain tree not too far from you that had a distinguishable crack in its trunk. And while amazing, you weren’t exactly sure why Namjoon had sent you here, what this was supposed to mean to you.

Jungkook must have sensed your confusion, because he simply responded to the light tracing of your fingertips over the page by reaching over and tapping it. “Keep going. There are a couple more.”

Spurred on by his direction, you dutifully turned the page, admiring the lifelike image of a steaming mug on the table of a bustling café, the visible string indicating it to be tea. It was the third drawing that sucked all breath from your body.

Because the sketch was, undoubtedly, of you.

A profile of you, because it you weren’t looking at whosever perspective it was meant to convey (likely his). This drawing was much more detailed than the other two, some faint smudges clueing you in to how much effort he had put into it. In your mind’s eye, you could see him, sketching away while distracted in class, or sprawled out on the grass in the main quad during his breaks, or even at his desk at night, hunched over his sketchbook before he went to bed. Could see him drawing and erasing, over and over, determined to get the amused twist of your lips exactly right, the shading of your hair.

It was absolutely ridiculous to recall how Jungkook had once told you his art was nothing special, amounted to nothing more than doodles. Because what you were looking at now was so much more than that. You could actually feel the care in each stroke of graphite to paper, could feel the tenderness oozing off the page.

You could do nothing but gape at it, at a complete loss for words and trying to silently connect the rapidly-multiplying dots in your mind. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat, and you reflexively looked back at him at the sound, dazed.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel anything less than you are,” he murmured, the vehemence in his eyes making your heartbeat thrum in your ears. “Because I promise you. I would never in a million years intentionally try to do that. This is how I see you.”

“O-Oh.”

“Again with the oh,” he sighed, but there was no irritation in it, only something you dared to hope was fondness.

“This is…beautiful, Jungkook,” you added timidly.

Jungkook shrugged away the compliment, still not releasing you from his stare. “I draw what I see.”

You could feel your body starting to heat up under his steady gaze, still unsure how to respond. How to move forward from here, now that everything was out in the open. But luckily for you, Jungkook had just as much on his mind, already talking again before you had the chance to find your words.

“You can’t just run away from hard conversations, you know. You can’t brush things under the rug because they’re uncomfortable. That’s not fair.”

“…It’s not,” you admitted, letting out a shuddering breath. “I know it’s not, and I’m sorry. It’s one of my major flaws that I’m fully aware I need to deal with. I’m—I’m a work in progress.”

His lips twitched, fighting amusement. “Don’t worry. Clearly, you’re not the only one.”

And now you were amused too. All of the angst and drama? All of the time wasted? Apparently, those were things that were possible to avoid when people communicated. Who woulda thunk?

“So.” Jungkook shifted just a little, but suddenly, you felt a lot closer, the space between your bodies much smaller than you recall it being. “What I’m hearing is that I want to be with you. And you want to be with me.”

You froze, hyperaware of every breath he took, every blade of grass swaying in the wind, every ripple across the water’s surface.

“I feel like there has to be an easy solution to this problem,” he continued, tone teasing. But also hesitant.

And you suddenly realized that you had done that. That you were not the only one whose world had been tilted by this conversation, rocked by this obvious…thing between you that had bloomed and bloomed as time went on. There was no reason for him to be so cautious in stating the evident—one plus one undoubtedly equaled two, but it was you who had come in and taught him that no, sometimes it equaled three. And while it was always good to question things in life, at the end of the day, sometimes things were simply not that fucking deep.

Jungkook startled a bit at the careful introduction of your hand on his knee, but he didn’t move away when you started to lean in. Didn’t look away. And it was him who diminished the gap in those last few inches, him who leaned down a little so your lips could be properly reintroduced.

And it was a homecoming of sorts, the soft press of his lips against yours a reunion that was long overdue. “I missed you,” he breathed against you, and your stomach immediately exploded in butterflies.

“I missed you too,” you admitted.

You felt how big his responding smile was, broken only to kiss you again, more solidly this time, his body angling more properly towards you so he could slip an arm around your waist. “Did you really?”

“You heard me the first time,” you snorted, folding into him willingly. Allowing him to gently take the sketchbook from you and move it uncaringly out of the way.

Jungkook huffed out a laugh. “God, you’re so irritating.” But from the soft kiss he landed on your forehead, you could tell he didn’t mean a single word.

“You like it.”

“Of course I do. How can I not?”

You paused, still unable to fully give in to the lighthearted mood the conversation was rapidly veering into. Uncertainty refused to let you go, the lingering what ifs a vice on the hesitance you so desperately wanted to set free. You pulled back slightly, far enough to properly see his face, and confusion met you there.

“What?” he asked, a nervous edge to his tone, and it was that clear uncertainty that finally gave you the courage to address your own. The courage to ask what had been plaguing your mind for weeks.

“Do you…really mean that?”

“Do I really mean what? That I like you?” His lips curled, amused. “Yes. I thought we’d already established that.”

“And so at the formal.” You swallowed down your discomfort. Pushed through it. “You got that king room instead of a double. Are you saying that wasn’t part of some scheme to get me to sleep with you?”

As soon as the question left your lips, a number of emotions visibly flashed across Jungkook’s face, too quickly for you to get a full grasp of any them. Still, you recognized the alarm well enough.

“What?”

“Were you trying to trap me?” you repeated, though you knew he had heard you perfectly fine the first time.

Another emotion was starting to stick on his features. “No. No! I just didn’t have enough money.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow in response, not sure what to make of that answer.

“I just—” Jungkook swallowed, suddenly struggling to hold eye contact. And then there it was, clear as day—embarrassment. “The hotel had set aside a block of rooms for our group, and because there were so many of us, we got a discount. All of our reserved rooms had king beds. I tried to call and swap, but they told me the only way they could do it would be if I booked separately from the group. And if I did that, I would no longer qualify for the discount.” He paused. “Which, it turns out, is actually a pretty good one. I see why we go back there every year.”

You were quiet for a few moments, letting it all sink in. “So you didn’t tell me any of this before because…?”

“Because I was afraid you would decide not to come,” he admitted sheepishly. “And that first night, I knew you wouldn’t agree right away. So I figured I’d wait until after dinner to tell you, but we started having fun and I had too much to drink and I just flat out forgot until it was too late.”

That was all…perfectly plausible. Still deceptive, yes, but not in a way that felt slimy to you, just naive. Jungkook clearly hadn’t thought about how his actions could be perceived. “You could have told me,” you sighed. “I woulda called up there and got them to give you that damn discount. And besides that, you weren’t even supposed to pay for it all by yourself anyway! Friends go half, remember?”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, tongue visibly poking through his cheek. “Doesn’t matter anymore. You’re not my friend.”

Shock raced through you, your stomach immediately dropping at the words. “I’m not?” you asked quietly, despondent now that you were realizing just how much you had truly fucked up.

You tried to back further away, but Jungkook wouldn’t let you, simply tightening the hold he had on your waist to keep you right by his side. “Nope,” he continued breezily. “You’re my girlfriend.”

This motherfucker…

You couldn’t help the way the rush of relief had you sagging slightly against him. Couldn’t help the annoyed, well-deserved smack you landed on his midsection, either. “Really,” you snipped, trying and failing to keep up your charade of annoyance while he snickered at you.

Jungkook simply grinned back, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Really.”

While only seconds ago your stomach had been trying to drop out of your ass, now it was doing happy somersaults. “You seem mighty confident about that, big guy. Shouldn’t we talk about it first?”

He shot you a pointed look. “I feel like we’ve talked plenty, don’t you?” was his wry response, and this time it was you who laughed, your contentment refusing to be restrained any longer.

“You’re the one who wanted to.”

“And now I don’t,” he sassed, dipping back in for another kiss, which you happily gave him. “I feel like there are other things we can do to make better use of that time.”

You smiled against his lips, unable to tamp down your amusement. “Like what?”

His lips traveled across your jaw, breath hot and making you shiver. “Knitting,” he murmured in your ear, and this time you did laugh.

“You do need a new scarf,” you conceded, breath hitching as his lips found their next target, playfully grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. Unconsciously, you angled yourself to give him better access. “That one you used this winter has had it.”

“Or how about…” Another kiss, warm and feather-light. “We do some laundry.”

“While I could definitely stand to do some loads, I don’t find laundry to be a particularly fun activity.”

“What?” he gasped exaggeratedly. “I love doing laundry. On second thought, this thing may not work out.” But the way he still pulled you closer betrayed how he truly felt on the matter. Idly, his pinky tapped against the swell of your ass, and it startled you a bit. Somehow, you hadn’t realized his hand had drifted that low.

From the way Jungkook paused at your reaction, he hadn’t fully realized where his hand had been either. But he didn’t seem to be too mad at it, fingers dipping a bit lower, rubbing slow circles. Testing the waters, waiting to see how you would respond.

But you did nothing but subtly arch into his hand, so he took that as some sort of invitation, kissing you again, more deeply. It was easy to get lost in him, so ridiculously easy to become nothing more than putty beneath his saccharine lips and masterful hands. So easy for your own hands to drift up his nape, for your fingers to wind into the hair curling there, for your mouth to swallow his responding whimper.

So easy for your relatively innocent canoodling to veer into something much more feverish.

You weren’t sure how long you were kissing for, weren’t sure when it was exactly that you had ended up horizontal on the grass, but when you realized that you were somehow caged in by the warm weight of his body, all you could do in response was dazedly look the darkening sky around the soft curtain of his hair.

“Really?” you gasped against his lips. “Here?”

“I told you I missed you,” he breathed in response.

“But— ” It was getting hard for you to think clearly with the way his fingertips were teasing the hem of your dress. “What if someone sees?”

He mouthed at your neck, fingers light, light against your panties. You shivered, one of your legs unconsciously curling around his hip to lock him closer to you. He hummed in approval, digits feathering up your covered slit before finding their intended target and pressing down. You gasped, hips jolting slightly and electricity racing up your legs at the meandering—deliberate—circles he was thumbing into your clit.

“Jung…” His name ended in a shuttered breath, thighs widening of their own accord.

He accepted your unspoken invitation, retrieving his hand so he could slot easily into the spot you created for him. His distracted reply came from the back of his throat, mouth too busy lapping persuasion into your skin. “Hmm?”

“Jungkook,” you tried again, determined not to get distracted by the slow roll of his hips. Determined, even if it was all so delicious, your toes were starting to curl.

“No one’s around, baby.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple. “Come on, let me make you feel good.”

He was technically right—the two of you were the only people on your side of the lake. When you had first arrived who even knew how long ago, you had noticed the distant shape of someone on the other side, but you weren’t sure if they were still there now, or even if they would be able to see you properly over the distance and under the rapidly dwindling sunlight. Still, the idea of publicly going at it made you a bit nervous.

“I drove Tae’s car. We can go there.”

That finally made him pause, pulling back from you slightly so you could see the questioning crook of his eyebrow. “Wait, really? What if he finds out? Or we make a mess? I told you before he’s not gonna be lenient with me if I fuck up his car.”

“And I told you I still don’t see what the problem is,” you shot back cheekily.

Jungkook puffed out a laugh in response, leaning back down to drag his tongue across your pulse point. “You know, if you keep saying that, I’m going to have no choice but to believe you mean it.”

“What is it with you and having sex outside? Are you some kind of exhibitionist?” you blurted, for some reason unable to stop talking now that you had started. So much had changed so quickly that your head was spinning, and so your mouth ran, hoping to give your brain the chance to catch up. Luckily, Jungkook seemed nothing but amused by you, if the way he was grinning at you was any indication. “Oh my god, you are, aren’t you?”

“And so are you,” he replied easily. And he wasn’t necessarily wrong, with the way you were rutting against the growing bulge in his pants, your body arching into his. As reluctant as your words claimed you to be, your body clearly did not get the memo.

Still, Jungkook took clear note of your hesitation, pulling back again, expression both amused and perplexed. “Okay, you’re sending me mixed signals again. Do you want me to stop? I’m sorry, I can stop.”

“I didn’t say that,” you hissed, tightening your thighs’ grip on him before he could escape you entirely. “I said we should go somewhere less out in the open. If I get mounted by a bear or something, that’s on you.”

His grin was bright, bright. “Don’t worry babe. Nobody’s doing any mounting but me.”

“…Please do not ever say that again, oh my god.”

“Come on, we can go if you really want to,” he continued, easily breaking free of your hold on him and scrambling off you. You could only blink at the sudden loss of him, amused at how quickly he was already on his feet and brushing stray blades of grass from his pants.

“Jeez, where’s the fire?” you joked, but from the dark look in his eyes, Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny. He stared down at you, pupils blown, tongue making a quick, distracted swipe across his lips.

“Let’s go,” he repeated, and you reflexively clenched at the bass in his tone, the unexpected intensity of his gaze.

Well shit.

He was not playing with you.

Obediently, you sat up, wordlessly accepting the hand he offered to help you to your feet. You weren’t sure what to expect as you led him through the woods and back to the parking lot, but the way he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you wasn’t particularly a surprise. The way he linked your fingers together, letting your hands sway between you for a minute or so, thumb rubbing silent promises into your knuckles. The way somehow, along the way, that same hand had drifted instead to the small of your back then the swell of your ass, large palm gripping a cheek firmly enough to make sparks run through your veins in anticipation.

The parking lot was just as empty as when you had first arrived, Taehyung’s car seemingly a specter in the dwindling light. As soon as you were close enough, Jungkook crowded you against it, caging you against the cooling metal with his body. His lips found yours again, more insistent this time. Hungrier.

You squirmed a bit under his attention, an amused puff of air leaving your nose. “When I said the car, I didn’t mean on the car.”

Jungkook wasn’t laughing with you though, much too busy giving your ass an impatient squeeze. “Then unlock the door,” he huffed. Pulling you forward by the hips so you would feel the exact source of his frustration.

You fumbled through your pockets for the keys, hitting the unlock button when you finally found what you were looking for. Not wasting any time, Jungkook moved you just enough away that he could yank the door open and scramble into the driver’s seat, looking up at you expectantly.

“Isn’t…” You stood there, still wary of what you were about to do, even with no visible onlookers. “Isn’t there more room in the backseat?”

The corner of his lips slowly rose into something cocky and sinful. He patted his lap, the harmless motion everything but. “There’s plenty of room right here.”

Paranoid, you looked around and still found no one. Not even a passing car to witness your suspect decisions. But at the end of the day, even if you were more cautious than he was, you were no less eager, excitement and adrenaline thrumming through your veins. Fuck it was your last thought before climbing in after him, shutting the door and straddling his thighs. Squeezed between him and the steering wheel, chest to chest, heart to heart.

The quiet in the cabin was comfortable and warm. Jungkook’s arms slipped around your waist as easily as if they were simply returning home, the soft way he was smiling up at you making your breath catch in your throat. “Hi,” he murmured.

Your reply was equally hushed, but strangely more shy. “Hi.”

He didn’t expand on that—just simply continued to stare at you and rub slow circles into your hips with his thumbs. Mere minutes before he had been going eighty miles an hour, but now he was casually cruising at twenty-five and giving you whiplash. His steady attention, no matter how much more subdued it had turned, was only continuing to make your skin prickle in anticipation.

“I thought you told me you missed me,” you prompted pointedly.

His smile took a more wicked edge. “Wow, in some sort of hurry?”

“Well, we are outside and in full view of anyone who decides they wanna walk by, so yeah.”

Jungkook let a out a long sigh, as if burdened by your impatience. But his hands told a different story, eagerly tracing the lines of your body to the hem of your skirt and pushing it further up your hips. You lifted yourself slightly to help him, mindful to avoid hitting your head on the roof of the car. When you felt his fingers press against the damp material of your panties, you shivered, jumpstarted to action and determined to get the ball rolling.

His breath audibly caught when you reached for the zipper of his jeans and cupped him, completely pliant and willing as you leaned forward to lick his mouth open. His fingers continued to rub you, idle but purposeful, and they were in direct contrast to your own hands, whose rising urgency were verging on desperate.

A gasp escaped you when you felt him dip under the edge of your panties, momentarily distracted from your objective by a finger easily slipping inside you. “We don’t have time for that,” you said, voice breathy from the way his digit was lazily curling and exploring.

“Why not?” he asked, tone deceptively innocent for someone who was purposely pumping a little deeper. For someone who was contentedly swallowing your resulting whimpers.

“Jungkook,” you tried to chastise him, but his name left your tongue much more needily than you intended, and paired with the way you bucked into his hand, he only smirked in response. Undeterred, you reached fully down his waistband, and luckily for you, Jungkook was much more interested in where this was headed than teasing you. Obediently, he lifted from the chair just enough to help you maneuver his pants down a bit. Free of its confines, his cock stood at attention, the hard curve of it tapping his clothed stomach.

You spat into your hand, using your newly-slick palm to pump him a few times. Breath shuddering at your touch, Jungkook finally slipped out from the heat of you, though the way he immediately used the same hand to pull your panties to side made it clear your previous protesting had nothing to do with his decision to stop fingering you.

“We don’t have time,” you repeated, angling him towards your entrance and bearing down. There was a twinge when the head breached you, not as slick as you probably should have been. But the forbidden nature of what you were doing had adrenaline pumping through you, so the slight discomfort barely registered. Instead, the only thing you could focus on was Jungkook’s sharp intake of breath. The tic of his jaw. The way the hot grip of you had him clutching your hips, forearms visibly veiny with his restraint. The way he cursed under his breath, watching himself disappear inside you with such an intensity that it only wound you up more.

Moments passed like this, just the two of you, on edge, breathing audible in the silence as you slid your way down his length. It wasn’t until you bottomed out, your pelvises flush, that Jungkook finally released his hold on your skirt, the material slipping down a bit more and impeding his direct view. Still, he didn’t seem particularly perturbed by that, his focus instead shifting back to your face as he leaned forward and easily negated the remaining space between you, capturing your lips.

You took that as your cue to start moving, using your knees and the grip you had on his seat as leverage to carefully lift yourself up as much as the ceiling would allow and then fall back down, the movement becoming easier as you went along and your body warmed up to the intrusion. Welcomed it even, the telltale squelch of your pussy slowly overtaking the small space the more you pushed yourself down his cock.

And it felt good, so so good, your pleasure only heightened by the heat of Jungkook’s roaming hands and the riskiness of it all. To be honest, the dopamine flooding your system was starting to make a decent case for his sexual preferences that you had previously found insane. So it didn’t take long for your rhythm to accelerate, for the cabin to be filled with an obscene harmony of labored breaths and skin smacking against skin.

It was Jungkook who interrupted your race to the end, a firm grip of your hips breaking your stride.

“Slow down,” he murmured, pulling you forward by the ass and guiding you into more of a slow grind. Like this—lazier, but still persistent and purposeful—your clit was pulled repeatedly across his pubic bone and shot electricity to every single one of your nerve endings. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shit, that feels good,” you moaned, tempted to give in to his delicious request, but still unable to fully forget yourself. “Wait, wait. Okay. So I know we technically just got together and you wanna be soft and sweet, but this isn’t really the time or place to do that.” That didn’t stop the slow roll of your hips though, the drag of his cock too addicting to stop the movement entirely. “We can totally shelve that for later if you want, but right now we really need wham, bam, thank you ma’am, you feel me?”

Jungkook pouted a little in response, clearly bummed with not getting his way, but he didn’t try to stop you again as you picked the tempo back up. Just hissed through his teeth when you kept riding him hard and fast.

And that was absolutely what you intended to do—ram him deep in your guts again and again and again until you both finally sprinted over the finish line.

But, of course, things didn’t tend to go to plan when it came to you and Jungkook.

The sudden appearance in the back window of approaching headlights sent a shock of alarm through you. “Shit!” Panicked, you lost your rhythm and weren’t prepared for his next thrust, an arm instinctively shooting out for something to help you keep your waning balance. And, when your hand finally found something solid to lean against, that something ended up being the fucking horn.

The noise was long and drawn out and sent your heart shooting up your throat until you had the good sense in your horrified state to yank your hand back. “Shit! Fuck!”

Jungkook only cackled at this chain of events, too busy laughing to properly continue his task of fucking you.

“Shut up,” you hissed, diving forward and leaning your body flush against his, hoping to be out of view from any windows and anyone curious enough to investigate the sound. Your chest against his meant your were fully aware of the laughter erupting from there, even if you could hear him just fine. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s pretty funny,” he pointed out, still giggling.

You smiled against his neck. “It’s not,” you whined, unable to keep the amusement out of your own voice.

Snickering, Jungkook reached for something, and suddenly your seat was moving and leaning backward, giving you both more room and further obscuring the view of you.

Your eyes narrowed, hand reaching up to smack his bicep. “Why the hell didn’t you do that before? Stop laughing!”

He held his breath, valiantly trying to comply to your demands, but the taunting rumbling in his chest gave away that he ultimately found it a difficult feat. You didn’t blame him, not really. It was all pretty fucking funny.

But at the end of the day, you weren’t naturally the exhibitionist type—had never done this before—and the idea of someone watching you get your back blown out made your anxiety rise. “Do you…” You cautiously lifted your head up, trying to assess your surroundings through the lightly fogged windows. “Do you think they saw us?”

Jungkook’s gaze was soft soft, smile fond, fond. “It was just someone driving by. They’re gone now, see?”

And he was right, the darkness of your surroundings fully restored. No one around except the two of you.

He rubbed reassuring circles into your back, tilting his head as if contemplating something. “You’re cute.”

Your face warmed at the blatant adoration in his expression. And now that you were being honest with yourself, this was how he often looked at you—nothing at all different, and yet this was somehow simultaneously new territory. How had you never noticed before?

But your attention was stolen before you could beat yourself up over your selective blindness. Jungkook resumed movement, rolling his hips with acute precision that had a gasp escaping you at the way the ridges of his cock repeatedly scraped against your g-spot.

“This is what you wanted, right?” A sharp snap of his hips, your resulting whimper. His amused smile quickly slipped away, mouth going slack instead as he grabbed you by the hips and started fucking you in earnest.

It was so good, so overwhelming that you couldn’t help but slump forward again, forehead resting against his. Letting him have full control as he pounded into you from below.

And Jungkook jumped at that opportunity, mouth seeking yours, arms circling your waist in a lover’s embrace. But he also thrived in it, hands drifting lower to grab fistfuls of your ass, to manhandle you into taking his cock the exact way he chose to give it. And the way he gave it bordered on feral, your body completely pliant and receptive to his assault. Your cunt leaking its praises, the resulting sounds of your fucking nothing short of filthy.

“Oh my god—”

“This is what you wanted. Right?” he demanded, somehow increasing his pace even more and making your teeth rattle in your skull. A sex machine dialed up to the next level.

You couldn’t find enough sense in you to answer him. Could only loop your arms around the headrest and hold on. Could only suck on the mole decorating the column of his neck in an effort to ground yourself. But that effort was completely thrown out the window when your body finally decided it had hit its limit, your thighs rippling with the force of the oncoming storm. “Fuckkk! Fuck, fuck, just like that, baby, just like that—”

“Mmm, you like that?” Jungkook goaded, his assault unrelenting, his breathing short and rapid from his efforts. His tongue dirty. “Pretending to be so righteous and pure when all along this pussy is singing for me. Look at you. So needy and messy. You’re just as nasty as I am, isn’t that right, baby?”

You whimpered your agreement, too fucked out to do much else. Everything was tight, tight, your insides and every other muscle in your body wound and ready for the inescapable drop. And fall you did, a long whine forced from the depths of your throat as your pussy finally clamped down on him. Immense pleasure erupted from every nerve ending, an almost distressed noise continuing to escape you as you tried to survive the wave, mindlessly grinding against him, breathing hot against his skin.

Jungkook fucked you through it, in a complete trance. Entirely on autopilot, laser-focused on meeting you at the bottom of the cliff, tongue loose and unfiltered as he babbled. “So soft and wet. Such a nasty girl, getting off in the middle of a parking lot. Cumming all over the seats.”

Barely starting to drift down from your high, you sent a cursory glance down through your damp lashes, dazedly assessing the area where your bodies were still violently connecting. Luckily, while you definitely found a telltale dark spot on the crotch of his jeans, the leather seats of the car still seemed to be unscathed.

The overstimulation was making you start to squirm, but Jungkook’s fingers only dug more determinedly into the meat of you and held you still. “You asked for this.” His reminder was a growl, a hand wedging between your bodies so he could harshly rub the place that had you thrashing within his hold.

“Ungh—please—”

“You can do it, come on,” he cooed, dulcet tone a distinct contrast to the nearly manic way he was pushing your body to its limits. “Nasty girl, be good for me. Don’t you wanna be good for me? Wanna soak my cock? Messy, messy.”

“J-J-Jungkook—”

“You’re almost there baby. You’re doing so good—”

This orgasm was much stronger than the last, wrenched from the deepest and unknown parts of you by his wicked hand. This time, you weren’t sure how long it took for the pleasure to subside, how long it took your consciousness to float back into your body. In a haze, you blinked the dancing spots away, slowly releasing the hold you had apparently taken on Jungkook’s hair in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to reality. The inky strands slipped between your fingers, but Jungkook didn’t seem particularly affected by the alleviation of the strain on his scalp. Instead, he had stopped moving entirely, his chest heaving against yours.

“You should move,” he said tightly, and when you pulled back so you could see his face, you found his teeth clenched and brow twisted.

“What?”

“I need you to get off me,” he tried again, tone a bit higher pitched this time. And that’s when you recognized the source of his tension for what it was—rising distress. “I’m—I’m gonna cum.”

Oh. Obediently, you pulled off him, the action making you both hiss in sensitivity. Jungkook barely waited long enough for you to move to the passenger seat before he was fisting his cock, jerking himself hard and fast. You watched, almost mesmerized, eyes blown and lips parted. You couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the whines he was making, breathy and desperate. Couldn’t focus on anything other than the way he shamelessly held your stare, biting his lip to try to curb some of the noise the slick work of his hand was forcing out of him.

It was all so fucking hot. Every whimper that passed his lips shot straight to your core, walls fluttering in interest despite the proper beating it had already taken, and you couldn’t help but reach over, your hand covering his.

Jungkook paused at your touch. You could feel the way he was trembling, body vibrating with such an immense need that it simply could not keep still for even a moment. You answered the question in his eyes by leaning over the center console, your hand tapping his in a gentle request for him to let go. And as soon as he did, it was you who continued his task, easily slipping over him and continuing his previous rhythm. He was hard as stone, the skin of him hot and sticky with various fluids, and as you watched him quickly become undone, you couldn’t help but think the wetter, the better.

You leaned down, enthralled by the way he was rutting so desperately into your hand, the tip of him angry and leaking for you. Enraptured by the slack of his jaw. Captivated by the way his eyes glazed over. Transfixed by the red that bloomed across his cheeks oh so prettily.

You knew the exact moment he realized where you were going with this, because his thighs tensed with excitement, an audible breath being sucked through his teeth. You only looked up at him through your lashes, lips upturned devilishly. “We can’t leave a mess,” you reminded him, tone deceptively innocent. But the way you promptly licked a stripe up him was anything but.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook gasped, throwing his head back against the headrest. Unable to contain his enthusiasm at being graced with the heat of your mouth. At you curling your tongue around his needy head before you promptly swallowed him down, humming your own satisfaction. “Oh my god.”

You could taste yourself on him. But that was only an undercurrent to his own flavor, heady and heavy and getting more intense the longer you sucked him off. This wasn’t going to take very long—you could already tell from the hand he carefully rested on the back of your neck, nonverbally asking you not to stop, to take him deeper, but not forcing you to. You could tell from the way he was literally pulsing on your tongue, aching and ready to burst.

It was with a particularly deep pass, your nose brushing the curly hairs at the base, that he finally did. An expert hollowing of your cheeks did him in, hot, bitter cum shooting down your throat as he moaned and moaned, involuntarily thrusting further into your mouth. And when it was over, you left him with a pop, returning to your side of the car and wiping residual spit and cum from your chin with the back of a hand.

Jungkook looked at you, mouth agape and chest still heaving, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

An incredulous laugh bubbled from your lips. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just did that.”

He didn’t respond, still too busy staring at you like you had hung the moon in the sky. Like you had sucked his soul from his body. And maybe you had.

“I can’t believe I let you in raw.” Your laugh took on an edge of growing dread. “Oh my god, I let you in raw. Fuck, don’t you have herpes?”

That got his attention. He let out an amused scoff, tiredly tucking himself back into his pants. “I do not have herpes. Why the hell would you think I have herpes? Did somebody tell you that?”

“Chlamydia?” you countered.

His brows pinched. “No, of course not—”

“I can’t believe I really just let you give me the itchies and scratchies, oh my god!”

“_____, I DO NOT HAVE A VENEREAL DISEASE.”

You paused, thrown out of your impeding meltdown by your curiosity. “Venereal. That’s a big word.”

His chest puffed out. “Yeah, well, I know big words.”

“Like meniscus?”

“I know big words that matter,” he clarified with a grin, much too happy to be bothered by your taunting. “And for the record, you didn’t know that one either.”

Well, he definitely had you there. “Whatever,” you muttered, pretending to busy yourself with straightening the hem of your dress and smoothing down your hair and generally making sure it didn’t look like you had just gotten done fucking in the front seat of a car. Which you had. Holy shit, was that wild.

The two of you sat for a few moments, the quiet between you comfortable, yet timid. This was brand new territory, this shift in your relationship, and both of you seemed hesitant to accidentally fuck it up.

It was Jungkook who took the leap of faith first, smile soft and slightly crooked. (Always Jungkook, fearless and headstrong and finally yours.) “Are you ready to go?” At your careful nod, he held out his hand. “Keys, please.”

It took you a few moments to find where you had put them, tossed uncaringly aside when Jungkook had pulled you onto his lap. Luckily, a cursory sweep beneath your seat uncovered them easily enough, and you dropped them into your boyfriend’s awaiting palm.

Boyfriend. Just thinking the word made you giddy, the whole situation pretty ridiculous and unreal. But you supposed that summed up your relationship pretty accurately.

“Hey,” you said thoughtfully as he carefully backed out of the parking space, a guiding hand behind your headrest. “Can we get a yacht?”

His curious gaze swiftly moved from over his shoulder to you as he put the car in drive. “What?”

“I kinda promised Namjoon’s unborn children that I would be the vodka aunt who yachted the Mediterranean with thotties on the regular,” you explained reasonably. “You can be the thottie if you want, but I’m gonna need a yacht to truly capture the vibe I’m going for.”

Jungkook blinked. “I mean, I make nine-fifty an hour at work study, but yeah.”

You sighed happily. “Congrats. You’ve just earned yourself the title of Head Thottie.”

A puff of laughter, a hand making itself comfortable on your thigh. “I’m truly honored.”

You bit your lip, trying not to get turned on by his one-handed driving or the heat of his palm, because you had places to be and cars to return.

Shit. You had cars to return.

“…Okay, so sidebar, but it definitely smells like sex in here. There’s no way Tae won’t know.”

Jungkook worried his bottom lip. “Do you have any Febreeze or something?”

“Do you really think I just carry a fucking can of Febreeze around with me everywhere?” you scoffed.

“I don’t see how that’s such a crazy assumption when you literally carry seasoned salt around with you everywhere!”

Now, why was he bringing your Lawry’s into this? “You never know when the food will be unseasoned,” you retorted defensively. “And then what am I supposed to do, Jungkook? Eat it anyway? I’m trying to enjoy life. No thanks.”

“Well, if we had just fucked outside like I wanted to,” he snarked back, “we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re really cementing your position as the actual irritating one in this relationship.” But you weren’t truly mad—not really. Not when this irritating dummy was finally your irritating dummy.

“You’re the irritating one,” he singsonged, sending you a purposely irritating wink that had you fighting a smile. He squeezed your thigh. “What if we try driving with all the windows down? Maybe we can air it out.”

“It’s worth a try,” you agreed, but just as you reached over to lower your window, a thought suddenly occurred to you. “Actually, you know what? I have an idea. I think it’ll be fine, we just gotta make a stop.”

Taehyung was understandably wary when the two of you finally darkened his doorway, interrupting his study session. Even though at times he could be a bit of an airhead, he had always been too sharp for his own good when he wanted to be, so it didn’t surprise you that he clocked your nervous energy immediately. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you replied, tossing him his keys. Tone much too high for everything to be great.

Tae’s eyes narrowed from behind his glasses. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”

You let out an audible exhale. No use in trying to bullshit him—might as well get it over with. Jungkook handed you the box that would hopefully save your asses and you tilted it in Tae’s direction in offering.

Taehyung looked at you curiously, a finger lifting the lid. His face fell.

Sorry I Had Sex in Your Car, the icing declared boldly. The lady in the bakery section had truly gotten a kick outta that one.

“OH, COME ONNNN,” Tae whined loudly. “Seriously?”

“It has strawberries inside,” you offered sheepishly, pushing the cake into his hands.

He shook his head, lip jutting out in a pout. “Really, _____? Without me?!”

You couldn’t help the snort that left you, all of your previous trepidation gone. That was what he was upset about? Of course that was what he was upset about. You had forgotten who you were talking to. “Sorry, bud,” you soothed, patting him on the shoulder. “Maybe next time.”

“Nope!” Jungkook cut in so sharply that it startled you a bit, somehow having forgotten while dangling your bribe that he was there too, hovering behind you. One of his hands wrapped around your hip possessively and pulled you closer to his body. “Absolutely not. I already moved two bucks into the yacht account—you’re done. Sorry, hyung,” he called over his shoulder belatedly, not sounding the least bit sorry as he led you both towards the doorway.

Taehyung’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute!” he called, tone now even more scandalized. “You—Jungkookie—together? And nobody invited me??”

Finals week ultimately came to an end, and with it the school year, setting everyone free from late night cramming and anxiety-fueled mini-breakdowns (for a few months, at least). As per usual, Beta Tau decided to throw its end of the year rager to celebrate, but the festivities were undoubtedly more bittersweet this year.

Because this year—in a little less than a week, to be exact— Seokjin and Yoongi were graduating. While everyone was set to leave campus for the summer, your oldest friends wouldn’t be coming back to join you in the fall, and it was a sad reality that your friend group had done a good job of ignoring up until the very last second. But your time was officially up, and Namjoon decided the best way to address the elephant in the room by throwing it one last costume party.

Dynamic Duos was the theme, a fitting nod to the two men who had been each other’s best friend, roommate, and wingman for all four years of their college careers. And even though the theme had been chosen pretty last minute, Jungkook had been super excited to brainstorm your outfits, bashfully admitting at your light prodding that he couldn’t wait to debut as a couple and show off your matching ensembles. It was super cute and you were super flattered and super endeared.

Now, however, from the way that even across the room you could see him pouting from beneath his mustache, it was clear this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

“Oh come on!” Seokjin yelled at the sight of you, already intoxicated, even this early in the festivities. (Hey, they were technically his festivities, so he could do whatever he damn well pleased. And what apparently pleased him was dressing up like a cowboy and getting shitfaced.) He gestured wildly at you, exasperated. “Namjoon, when I told you I wanted to come as Mario, you told me that was stupid!”

Namjoon shrugged, taking a sip from his cup. He had played it cheap and safe with a red t-shirt whose logo declared him to be Heinz ketchup. Lisa, sitting next to him in a yellow t-shirt, was his matching mustard. “I told her that too.”

You lifted your own cup in acknowledgment, patting your mustache to ensure it stayed properly in place. “You just gotta stop caring what other people think of you, Seokjin. Live your best life.”

Your group was crowded around a few couches you had claimed as yours, alternating between mingling with the other partygoers and retreating back to your own little circle. The guests of honor were currently gracing you with their presence, though Jin didn’t seem very to happy to see you in his preferred costume choice.

He curled his lip at you, apparently not finding the situation nearly as amusing as you did.

“Oh come on, don’t be mad at me,” you whined. “You’re graduating and I’m sad about it. Who else am I going to gossip with about the faculty’s sex lives?”

Seokjin’s expression softened affectionately before turning appropriately indignant. “Me, obviously! You have my phone number and I expect regular updates. I need to know how Professor Ortiz’s secret new ventures into being a sugar mama ends up. If the job I have lined up doesn’t work out, I might just apply to that one.”

“Honestly, you should probably try that route first,” Yoongi drawled. “But you might as well stop being so pissy. For the record, it didn’t matter how much you begged me—I was not going to be Princess Peach.”

Jin balked, thoroughly offended on the princess’s behalf. “It was a great idea,” he slurred. “Theirs is a love that transcends time. Withstands all obstacles!”

Yoongi merely met him with an unimpressed stare. “She was the goddamn obstacle. All she ever did was get repeatedly kidnapped and expect to be rescued.”

“You didn’t want to be Peach,” you said slowly, thinking out loud. “So instead you agreed to be Buzz Lightyear and encouraged your other half to show up to his going away party looking like a stripper?”

“Hey, Buzz Lightyear is an intergalactic hero and you will respect him as such.” Yoongi pointed a finger at you. “And besides, it’s not Jin-hyung’s fault that the only chaps we could find on such short notice were assless.”

“…Yoongi, Woody doesn’t even wear chaps.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “So what’s the matter with him?” he prompted instead, tilting his head towards where Jungkook was chatting with Taehyung and Jimin not too far away. The two of them had opted to go for rather busted versions of Anna and Elsa. (You wondered if you should alert Tae to the fact that he was actually—and very obviously—wearing a Merida wig. He probably wouldn’t give a shit anyway.)

“You mean Jungkook?” you asked. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just huffy because I reminded him I’m shorter and can probably grow a better mustache than him, so I obviously deserved to be the titular character between us. For realism purposes.”

“You probably shouldn’t be proud of that,” Namjoon pointed out.

You ignored him. “I also offered him the option of sexy Yoshi, but he politely declined.”

“I should have been Mario, if we’re gonna bring up realism,” Seokjin huffed, still clearly salty that someone else had dressed as his beloved character. “Can you even repair a pipe? NO.”

You couldn’t help but be amused by how hard drunk Jin was going in on this. “I’ve literally seen you wash your face with Dial soap before,” you replied cheekily. “The kind with a pump. You can’t tell me shit.”

He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “It worked, didn’t it?” he sniffed.

It had. His complexion was as clear and smooth as a newborn baby’s asscheek. Fucking men.

“I don’t think Mario even knows how to repair a pipe,” Namjoon annoyingly cut in.

“Oh my god, Joonie,” you groaned. “Stop raining on our parade and being so jealous of our creativity! It’s nobody’s fault but yours that you picked something so boring. I told you you should have just leaned into the obvious choice for you and come as Squidward.”

Namjoon leveled you with a look.

“What?! You could have been Handsome Squidward if you wanted. Tae has that whole astronaut suit that Lisa could have borrowed.”

“But Sandy and Squidward aren’t really friends,” Lisa pondered out loud. “So I’d have to be, like, his clarinet or something.”

You nodded agreeably. “You know, I’m pretty sure Tae has one of those too.”

Namjoon took a sip from his cup. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

But before you could retort, the oncoming sound of a familiar snickering made your ears perk up, brought forth the emergence of soft fluttering in your stomach. You turned your head, and there he was, the Luigi to your Mario. Sliding a casual arm around your waist, matching the dumb smile you couldn’t help but send his way.

God, even you could recognize that the two of you were disgusting. But aside from Yoongi raising a pointed eyebrow, no one else commented on this sudden turn of events. Had the two of you ultimately getting together really been that obvious?

“He thinks the sun shines out of your ass,” Joon pointed out, interrupting your increasingly sappy thoughts. “He doesn’t count!”

You cleared your throat, turning away from Jungkook to get back at the matter at hand—teasing Namjoon. “Yikes. Somebody’s panini pressed.”

Lisa, who at this point had become so acclimated to the two of you constantly bickering that she barely reacted to it anymore, finally decided to drop her two cents on the topic. “…Okay, but in all seriousness, Handsome Squidward would have been funny.”

You raised your hand approvingly and she easily met you halfway, palm smacking palm.

“I regret ever introducing you two,” Namjoon deadpanned, but from the way his lips were twitching up, you knew that was a bold-faced lie. Your best friend was the happiest you had seen him in a long time, and he truly deserved it. That knowledge was what made you give his knee a few affectionate pats as you unfolded yourself from the couch, making your way to the kitchen to give your cup another refill.

You didn’t see him right away, the room filled with enough drunken partygoers that your view of him was momentarily blocked. But the closer you got to the counter, the harder it was for you not to see him, busy arranging shot glasses on a tray. He casually looked up, and suddenly it was too late—your eyes had locked. He had seen you too.

Normally, this was the type of moment where you’d play dumb, pretend you hadn’t seen him standing there at all. Maybe use the crowded area to your advantage and just slip away, ducking behind other partygoers and using them as a shield. But you had promised yourself that you weren’t going to run anymore when things got uncomfortable.

You had promised Jungkook.

So, with a grounding breath, you decided not to run.

“Hey Jimin.”

“Hey,” he replied automatically, visibly thrown off by your uncharacteristic directness. Rightfully so, Jimin had probably assumed the two of you were just going to continue to avoid each other—simply waiting for your mutual embarrassment to die down over summer break before approaching each other again. Yet here you were, sending him a timid smile and looking him straight in the eye.

You cleared your throat, gesturing to his tray. “What ya got there?”

“Well, this is supposed to be a celebration, so I figured we should all take some celebration shots.” You wondered where he was able to find an Elsa costume so quickly that was big enough to fit him, but you didn’t doubt Taehyung had something to do with it. He looked a bit silly standing there in a sparkly blue dress and a cheap blond wig, but you were sure you in your overalls and fake mustache didn’t come across any less ridiculous.

“Good idea! I was just coming in here to get another drink.”

“Well, I’ve got cheap vodka and cheap vodka. What flavor are you feeling, whipped cream or strawberry lemonade?”

“Hmm. Last time I had the whipped cream flavor I puked in a bush, so let’s go with strawberry lemonade.”

“Good choice,” he smiled, reaching for the appropriate bottle and starting to fill the shotglasses. There was an extended pause, his smile faltering a bit as he continued, “So you and Jungkook, huh?”

He hadn’t bothered to put his wig on properly, and so his own bangs were what shielded his eyes from you a bit as he kept pouring. You didn’t let yourself look away anyway. “Yeah.”

Another pause, and then he nodded to himself, meeting your eyes again. “Good,” he said softly, and you could tell that he meant it. Could tell that ultimately, the two of you were gonna be okay. “Good for you.”

Your heart warmed, content in the knowledge that with a bit more time, the awkwardness would disappear entirely and your friendship could continue to grow. Finished tray of shots in hand, Jimin followed you back to where your friends were waiting for you. But when you the two of you approached, you found that a few members of your group had rotated. Hoseok had appeared in a Pikachu onesie, the clear partner to your friend Luisa, who was obviously his trainer. Namjoon was gone, and so were Seokjin and Yoongi, though a cursory look around for Yoongi’s brightly-colored hair revealed him to be busy chatting with Mina on the other side of the room. You paused in surprise at how closely they were standing, Mina’s receptive body language a major tell. Huh.

HUH.

…Actually, with Mina’s headstrong personality and Yoongi’s relatively chill one, that might actually work out. You wish your roommate hadn’t waited until he was about to graduate to give him a try, but even if this didn’t morph into anything more, Yoongi was a more reliable booty call than Jackson, at the very least.

Who knew where Jin or Joon had gone, but with Seokjin strutting around in assless chaps, you were sure wherever he was, he was doing just fine.

Jungkook had moved to Yoongi’s vacated spot on the couch, and when he saw you approaching, he reached his hand out. Instinctively, you took it, allowing him to pull you close enough to guide you onto his lap.

You went willingly, quietly observing the overlapping fabric of your matching overalls. “Hey you,” he said softly, and even in the din of a raging party, even as Jimin started handing out shots to everyone, it was really just the two of you. Just you and him, everything else fading out.

“Hey you,” you returned, giving the rim of his green hat a fond tap.

He turned his head at the action, nuzzling affectionately into your jaw. “Our mustaches are touching,” he murmured. “And it feels kinda weird.”

You snorted, letting out a put upon sigh. “Why is everyone at this party so jealous of my superior mustache, oh my god.”

Jungkook just smiled at you, the one with too much teeth that made your heart swell and swell until it felt too large for your ribcage. He didn’t bother answering, choosing instead to pull you down for a kiss. Your mustaches brushed. He was right. It was totally weird.

But that didn’t stop three little words from starting to bubble up your throat, and you hastily swallowed them, your ego not allowing you to be the first to say them.

(In the end, that didn’t turn out to be much of a competition—Jungkook lost spectacularly a few weeks later when, after doing shrooms with Jimin, he called you at 2am to pour his heart out and cry. It would become one of your most treasured memories and you would never let him live it down.)

The sudden sound of an enraged roar emanating from the kitchen had everyone in the immediate vicinity reflexively turning towards the noise. It took you a few moments to recognize that the culprit was Namjoon, hollering expletives like it was his job.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHO THE FUCK KEEPS DOING THIS?!”

You all looked at each other. Jimin chuckled sheepishly, guilt written all over his face.

“Whoops,” he winced, a hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “It was my turn to be guarding that…”

“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!”

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#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bby #fic: ego #mine

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