Mr. Right (Swipe)

Mr. Right (Swipe)

Pairing: Jungkook / You Genre: one shot, fratboy!au, drummer!au, enemies to lovers!au Rating: M Warnings: slow burn, library sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex Word count: 30.1k Summary: Jeon Jungkook is well aware that he’s the bane of your existence. He just loves to push your buttons and lives to see you all riled up. So, what happens then when he catches you swiping left on his Tinder profile during class?

Jungkook is late to his class. He’s not just late, he is terribly late. Running on two and a half hours of sleep and caffeine, he quickly dashes through the campus grounds to get to the building.

A few minutes later when he arrives, he quickly makes a decision to enter through the top part of the auditorium.

Once seated on one of the seats in the last row, he rummages through his backpack and puffs out a tired sigh. Great. He managed to shove in his water bottle, his drum sticks, a packet of chips and a protein bar this morning but not his notebook.

He then turns to the person on his right, surprise settling on him when he sees that his seatmate is none other than his favorite person to annoy.

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ABSTRACT ft BOB ROSS (M) - JJK

Summary: Paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what Jeongguk wants. And what Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets.

Genre: smutPWP, timid crack, established relationship

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: jeongguks horny! getting high, body painting, fingering, oral (both receiving), edging, slight subJK, unprotected sex, cockwarming, masturbation (fem), dry humping

A/N: Jeongguk being on his Bob Ross thing to help us through quarantine had me inspired. Fr Bob Ross was a legend. This gets steamy btw

Also pls stay safe everyone and don’t be selfish. Enjoy x

*Masterlist Link*

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- panic womb. (m) ; jjk

atu!couple, established relationship, smut, fluff, 5k

note: this is based on a request i got a looooong time ago for the atu!couple. enjoy!

warnings: explicit smut, drunk (more like tipsy) sex, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, ass eating, pussy spanking, butt spanking lol, creampie kink idk lol, mentions of pregnancy, etc. jaykay is a sweetie and i love him, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

The sounds of the nightclub still echo in your ears, the base pumping through you even as you step off the elevator, heels sinking into the plush carpet. 

Jeongguk lags behind you, hands sifting through the pockets of his jeans to locate the key to your apartment before you let your vision focus and then refocus again, blinking wildly. Perhaps those tequila shots Taehyung gave you weren’t such a good idea. 

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;sleepy (m)

FIRST LOVE, LAST LOVE

Jungkook’s never too sleepy for sex…

pairing; jeon jungkook x reader genre/warnings; domesticated goodness in the form of smut and fluff, morning sex, sleepy jungkook, established relationship words; 2,254

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"boyfriend of my dreams" pt. 1

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: college au. pwp. smut. strangers to lovers (or are they?)

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: oc's mean :/ but the bois ~love her. jk's so sweet. protected sex. dirty talk. mentions of alcohol & drugs (a lil weed). fingering.

Author’s note: hi <3 I started this so long ago to celebrate hitting 1k and got to finish it just now and wanted to share it. this was fun, felt like me when I wrote it. thank you for being patient with me during this time and for sending me love even when I'm away - it means more to me than I'll ever be able to express. I hope u enjoy, I'll make sure to pop in and chat w u guys! x

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

pt. 1

You lean your head to the side, smiling mischievously to yourself, absentmindedly drawing the far end of your pen between your lips. Namjoon scores a point – it’s mostly luck, catching his counter partner, and friend, off-guard. The ruckus that unfolds when he does is a tad bit too passionate for a mundane game of ping pong but that’s no obstacle to them, they’ll make a party out of almost anything.

Taehyung jumps on Namjoon’s back right as he breaks out in a celebratory sprint around the ping pong table, emitting laughter from everyone around them. Jin grabs a hold of his face, bringing it closer and planting a loud kiss on his forehead. Even the opposing team is cheering him on.

“Are they drunk?” Sumi asks, narrowing her eyes at them as she gives up on re-reading the same paragraph for the third time, unable to hold an ounce of concentration with the commotion before her.

“It’s 11 A.M.” Sydney types away on her phone, studying far from her intentions as she rides a hangover herself. She’s propped up on one elbow, breaking the circle you’ve formed on the green grass.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Sumi retorts, closing her textbook with more force than needed before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Namjoon is so… buff.” Your eyes don’t leave him, a pout adorning your lips as he chuckles, getting back into position to continue the heated game of ping pong.

“Stop fucking our friends.” Sydney’s tone laces indifference, eyes still glued to her screen. The reflection on her dark sunglasses giving you a perfect view of the obliterating left swipes as she fishes through Tinder. Nobody stands a chance. You laugh.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Sumi asks.

Sydney turns to her and then back to you, head lowering until her icy blue eyes are penetrating yours. “Hoseokie is still freed from your perversions, right?” She pauses and Sumi scoffs. “Right?”

“He came over on Monday to study for that Introduction to Philosophy class we share.” Your sentence is innocent and you try to match it with your tone but it falters, hinting sultry towards the end.

Sydney stays quiet for a second too long before she snickers, nodding slowly to herself, shooting you a “Nice.”

“So that makes all of them.” Sumi ponders, suddenly overwhelmed by the mental math. She’s fighting her own hungover demons.

“That’s Jin on fresher’s night. Jimin last Halloween,” Sydney starts.

“Then she went through her stoner phase and thought she was in love with Taehyung because they would always fuck under the influence,” Sumi adds, condescendingly.

Sydney nods at this. “That gets you a hall pass, ___. Hell, I’m in love with Taehyung. Look at him.”

“Mmhm,” you contemplate, thinking about how even in his hazy state he would pull orgasms out of you like it was easy.

Sumi snaps her fingers repeatedly. “Yoongi after that festival we went to over the summer.”

“And during,” Sydney points a finger her way.

You smile at the memory. It was thrilling, really, breaking the stigma his passive and reserved personality had painted him as. It gets you a little hot and bothered, attention almost fully diverting from what your eyes were originally after.

“Then Joonie last month – at least you guys went on a, you know, actual date.”

Sydney looks over at Sumi, mock endearment on her features. “She tried.”

“I can try harder.” You reach for your bag, fishing its insides for your lip gloss and some watermelon gum. You begin to straighten up as you apply the sticky, shiny product on your pouty lips, tuning into character – flirty and determined.

“Hold up,” Sydney’s voice gets both your and Sumi’s attention, fixed on her all of a sudden. She holds up her phone, removing her sunglasses as her eyes travel from the screen to the direction of the boys that are still in deep their Olympic style ping pong game.

You lean over, Sumi mimicking your movements until Sydney’s got two pairs of curious eyes eyeing her screen alongside her own.

“What? What?” Sumi’s eyesight betrays her, the sun hitting straight on the screen, making it hard to make up the image.

You see it perfectly though – Sydney’s screen flashes a Tinder page, a dark-haired boy smiling brightly back at you. When your eyes follow the line of vision that stands right ahead, that same smile finds you, only this time it’s directed at Namjoon.

You scoff. “It’s a small world. I thought one of the perks of living in a big city was the animosity.”

“Says you Mrs. No-man-left-standing.” Sydney sneers.

Sumi rolls her eyes, snatching the phone from Sydney’s grasp and bringing it close to her face so she can join in the discourse. “Oh,” she says, wincing slightly but awfully casual.

“Oh?” Sydney mimics.

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Who?” Both you and Sydney say at the same time, earning yourselves another eye roll from Sumi.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she begins but the confusion in your faces remain. “He’s a sophomore. We’ve met him- multiple times. Plays soccer? Center back?”

Sydney frowns. “Do I look like that rings a bell?”

“He’s been at almost every party this year.”

“He’s a sophomore why would I give two?” You defend.

“Because the boys have introduced us to him- multiple times. He’s even part of their little gamer cult that meets every Tuesday. He’s pretty much inserted in their group of friends which, by default, makes him part of our group of friends. He’s very nice, actually.”

A dark smile forms on Sydney’s lips. “Well, aren’t you smitten. Maybe if you’d spent less time gathering all of this information, he wouldn’t be on my Tinder feed right now.”

Sumi waves her hand at her dismissively, putting full focus back on her text book.

Sydney shrugs. “I’m swiping right.”

“Cougar.” You tell her.

“It’s a match,” she informs, gaze traveling back to the boy who reaches for his phone as in sync. He looks at the screen for a short second before they’re on Sydney for the split of that. She holds that intimidating, cat-like gaze until she’s got him visibly flustered – eyes glued to the ground, and you can’t see, but have no doubt he’s blushing. You turn to her, eyes narrowed. She shrugs. “He’s only a year younger.”

“He looks like a virgin.”

“I’ll try anything once.” You laugh at this, shooting her a pointer finger in agreement. “Or you want this one, too? Since, you know, apparently he’s a friend.” She turns to Sumi as she says this but the latter is consumed in her studies.

“No, thank you. I look up not down.”

“Is that code word for blowjob?”

You snort, eyes rolling playfully at her. “Interpret it as you wish, my lovely bimbo.”

She smiles at you and you let out a light chuckle before you’re standing up from your comfortable sitting position. You stretch a little, fixing your dangerously short skirt. Spring is here after all and after confining one of your best qualities to jeans for all of winter, it’s time to honor your attributes once again.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Sydney cheers on.

“Go get him. She’ll take it literal.” Sumi adds and you all break out in laughter.

You make your way to your friends, ping pong game long forgotten after the arrival of Jungkook. They’re all standing around him, ogling him as if he was a puppy almost. Endeared smiles his way as he tells a story. Taehyung even ruffles his hair some. You roll your eyes – if only they were this committed to loving on their one night stands the way they love on their new little friend they wouldn’t be confined to your roster.

Yet perhaps it’s all for the best.

“Namu,” your voice is sweet as his name passes your lips like a little melody.

When Namjoon turns around at your beckoning, six more faces turn to you in perfect unison. You smile and like a domino effect, they return it. All but one.

You might’ve been unaware of his presence right that second – hell, of his name a couple minutes prior even, but Jeon Jungkook knows who you are. He knows all too well. Not by means he would necessarily feel proud to disclose (i.e., his friends being way too vocal about the wonder that is you) but you are very much in his radar. He sees you now, a tender smile on your face that only makes those tempting eyes of yours all that enticing to him. Enticing and confusing, that is. The way you call Namjoon’s name makes him wish, even if for a brief unconscious second, that it was him you were after.

Perhaps he’s giving himself way too much credit.

He’s wanted that, very much consciously, since the first night he met you.

It’s the oldest story in the world and you’d think it would consequently make it predictable; but Jungkook is yet to reap off the benefits of the cliché he walked himself straight into the moment you walked into Yoongi’s apartment that one night.

“Do you guys always throw parties after Game Club?”

“Hm. Depends, really.” Jin walks alongside Jungkook all the way to the kitchen counter, where an unholy amount of liquor lays, uncapped and ready to be responsible for the same amount of sin. Yoongi’s apartment lights shine dim red LED lights, making it all seem very Euphoria-esque. All the parties Jungkook had attended in his short first year of college had been rather trashy – sweaty bodies and frat bros that did highly questionable things after hours. This felt different. The crowd much smaller, the music far cooler and the overall atmosphere much more inviting. “Sometimes it’s just us. Sometimes we have… company, my young one.”

Jungkook follows Jin’s line of vision until they, too, land right on… company. Said company is looking right back at them – well, probably more at Jin than anything. A pretty girl with electric blue hair smiles at Jungkook, a small wave his way before she’s shyly looking down at the floor. Jungkook’s a weak man and the sweetness she exudes shoots right to his heart. And then very much right to his dick. Scratch that – Jungkook was a weak boy.

Jin laughs when he notices his sudden flustered state. “That’s Jieun. A doll, yes. But don’t let the shiny eyes deceive you, she will beat your ass in MapleStory. No mercy.”

For some reason, Jin’s words do zero favours to Jungkook, finding a girl beating his ass in the video game he’s had mastered since he was 12 awfully enticing.

He sounds nervous when he says, “she’s pretty.”

She’s looking at him again, an all too obvious glance down Jin’s direction for reinforcement before they’re glued back on Jungkook – sweet and welcoming but laced with something so incredibly attractive.

“You want her?” Jin’s voice breaks him out of his trance.

“Uh- I mean,” Jungkook doesn’t want to get his hopes up let alone objectify the girl.

“I’m only asking because she wants you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“I-”

Before Jungkook can elaborate on his obvious attraction for her, all eyes and ears redirect back to the front door. Your entrance is not necessarily loud but Sumi’s greeting certainly is – oddly obnoxious and out of character whenever she’s had one too many shots of tequila.

Jin smiles, waving over at you. “What took you so long?” He says this loud enough for you to hear.

You simply smile, slyly and cheeky for reasons Jungkook can’t decipher. Now, he’s not a nosy person but he gets a sudden urge to know. He can’t quite explain it. He also can’t quite explain why his mind is erased blank in that moment – suddenly unaware of where it was only a couple of seconds prior. You draw him in, despite the fact you haven’t all but glanced in his direction – even though he’s right next to Seokjin.

Jimin greets you in a hug and Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer until his lips lower to your ear. He says something that makes you smile, biting your lip as you chuckle slightly.

Jungkook thinks that’s it, you’re taken by none other than the person he’s grown the closest to in the group.

Only that’s not it, because in the span of the night he sees you fall into a messy but passionate make out session with Taehyung after an, in his very humble opinion, purposely failed game of suck and blow. You also sit on Yoongi’s lap as he rolls a joint that he shares only with you. Not to mention the way you have special pet names for Hobi and Jin.

A week after that party, you go on a date with Namjoon.

An enigma.

Hot as all hell,

But an enigma nonetheless.

Needless to say, Jungkook finds more entertainment that night in following you with his wonderous gaze than in entertaining sweet-gaze-blue-hair. Even if everything you do just makes you all that more confusing.

But hot. So very hot.

~

“Oh my God, you fuck me so-,” your words hitch right in your throat, a loud moan in replacement that finishes the sentence for you.

Good. He fucks you so good.

“Is that so, babe? You gonna cum for me?” Namjoon’s words hit you like a drop that tips the glass – a metaphor that fits the situation perfectly as your orgasm rips through you in waves of pleasure. You don’t have time to announce it, per say, but he doesn’t need you to say it in order to feel it.

His smirk is cocky and it would do things to you if you could see it. He bends you over further, hand coming to tangle itself in your hair as he pushes your face to the mattress, fucking you harder as he chases his own high.

“Cum for me, Joonie.”

The pet name is sweet but your tone is so filthy and that about does it for him, his tight grip on your hip growing firmer as he spills inside the condom with a soft, “fuck- I’m cumming.”

He pulls out with a hiss and your body falls to his mattress, a sigh leaving your hips as you swim in pure bliss – body almost ecstatic over how good he just made you feel. His hands grab you by the waist, turning you on your back so quickly you barely register it. You yelp and he snickers, positioning himself back between your legs – just how this ordeal all started.

“Fuck, ___. You fuck me like you love me.”

“I don’t,” your words get lost in soft little playful giggles. “That’s why it’s so good.”

He smiles, his brain convincing his body he could go again right then and there. “And that’s why I love you.”

You grab his face, pulling him down for a kiss. His eyes are closed, lips pouty as you say, “as a sexy friend that lets you fuck her brains out?”

His tongue licks at your lips before he bites on his lower one. “As a sexy friend that lets me fuck her brains out.”

“Mm, convince me again.”

“Gladly.”

His brain wins, body more than ready to go. He kisses you, deep right off the bat as your legs wrap around his waist, arm outstretching to reach for one of the condoms you’d tossed on his bed. You break the kiss, eyes on his as you bring the foil package to your lips, opening it with little hassle, hands lowering to his-

“Doorbell.”

“Huh?” You say, confused. Brain still a little foggy from the arousal.

“Someone’s at the door,” he says.

You whine into his mouth, pulling him closer to you. “It’s probably the pizza we ordered when you were trying to court me.”

He lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t court you with pizza.”

He frees himself from your hold, a soft peck to your forehead before he’s reaching for his sweatpants, throwing them on before passing you one of his oversized hoodies.

“Why? I like pizza…” You’re all but left alone with your thoughts as he leaves his room, well on his way to the front door already.

Namjoon is feeling rather chirpy. In a good mood that doubles as bliss – fucked silly, if you will. His steps pick up as he gets closer to the door, overly enthusiastic as he twists the doorknob ready for-

“Jungkookie.”

“Pizza,” he says, pushing the green and red striped box in his direction.

“You work for Papa John’s?”

Jungkook frowns. “No. The delivery guy just left it on the floor… I thought I’d pick it up.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. Thanks, bud. What are you doing here?”

Another frown from the youngest, confused at finding Namjoon so disoriented. “You told me I could come… for those anatomy books, remember?”

Namjoon doesn’t remember and it’s rather obvious by the frown on his face. Right that second, in glorious sync, Jungkook makes out the reason why.

“Pizza!”

You come out of his room, in nothing but an oversized hoodie he’s seen on his friend many times before – nothing but the oversized hoodie he’s seen on his friend many times before. Your hair’s messy, mascara smudged around your glassy eyes and even from afar, Jungkook can make out the crimson traces of a love bite adorning your neck.

“Of course, I remember, Jungkookie. Come in, come in. I’ll get them for you.”

You smile, more at the pizza than at him – eyes fixed on the box he’s still holding.

“Uh- thanks, hyung.”

“No worries- oh, you’ve met ___, right?”

His gaze travels down, the patterns on the pizza box suddenly holding his focus fully. “Y-yeah.”

Namjoon walks back to his room to, presumably, grab those anatomy books that got Jungkook walking right into this situation. You walk over to him, eyeing him absentmindedly before you open the pizza box he’s holding, grabbing a cheesy piece for yourself before taking a big bite.

You moan.

You moan and Jungkook has no choice but to follow his animalistic instincts and look up at you, big round eyes searching for yours that are shut as you feast on a piece of pizza that can’t certainly be that good. When you open your eyes, Jungkook wants to look away. He even tries, but it’s to no avail, way too hypnotized by your close proximity.

“You want some?” You ask, shoving the slice in his direction.

He gawks at you before he reminds himself, pizza – you’re offering him pizza.

“N-no… thank you, though.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, brain zeroing in on a thought. “You’re Sydney’s little tinder conquest.”

Jungkook does not know what to say. Nothing comes to him – not a quirky remark, not a simple answer. Nothing. All he can do is stare at you, eyes traveling down for a split second as you sit on the edge of the couch, the hem of the hoodie hiking up your thighs, exposing way too much skin for him to keep his inner dialogue from producing a loud scratching sound and just absolutely rewinding. He stays quiet.

“You are! Hm… cute.” You say, and he can’t quite make out if you’re being honest or downright condescending. He hates to admit it but either way, it’s turning him on. “When are you guys going on a date? Oooh, take her to the movies! She likes indie films, believe it or not. Her favorite food is sushi and she does not like long walks on the beach.” You say with a proud smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him in a suggestive matter.

He stays silent yet again and you simply shrug, taking another bite from your pizza as Namjoon finally comes out from his room, a stack of books in his hands.

“Here you go, Kook. This class’ a bitch, don’t know why’d you pick it as an elective. If you need help studying let me know.”

“Thank you, Joon. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow at Tae and Jimin’s?”

“Yep.” He says, eyes making too big of an effort to avoid you and you can tell, which makes you smile. Sydney’s gonna have a blast with this one, always down for a lil subby.

Jungkook turns around, thanking his angels that interaction is about done. He struggles for a minute with the doorknob, hands full of books and a tremor to them that don’t necessarily help his case. You chuckle and he can hear it, the little balance he had on the heavy hardbacks faltering before they finally fall to their tragic fate, hitting the floor with a hard thump. He curses the same angels.

Namjoon comes to his rescue, reaching for the books as he tells him, “Let me get that for you.”

Jungkook grabs them, securing them in his hold once again before giving his friend a genuine smile before uttering a, “thanks.”

He leaves the apartment with a haste that emits another chuckle from you.

He hears it again.

Thankfully, he’s far from earshot when you say,

“He’s kinda weird.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you, closing the door after him. “He’s just introverted. A term you’re not familiar with.”

You give him a mindless shrug. “Cute.”

You mean it – condescendingly, that is.

~

Taehyung and Jimin are a dynamic duo. They’re also roommates and not afraid to fall into the pleasures a night of excess might ensue. That’s exactly why them hosting parties is a once in a full moon event – no, really. They follow the zodiac calendar religiously, making sure that whenever the moon ends a cycle, they’re ending the night with a crowd of partygoers that are not only drunk on liquor but all sorts of indulgences.

Little is off limits during Tae and Jimin’s full moon parties and, logically, it’s your favorite night of the month. It’s become quite poetical, really. Also, an excellent way for them to get laid, because, what’s more romantic than the Moon and a night that sort of revolves around it? Men that know their moon cycles, that is.

So, once a month, when the Moon is nice and plump, you and yours get extra done up and double the excess. It’s an iconic practice and you will it admit, it’s seen some of your best nights in college.

You make your way to your front door, stopping briefly by the mirror, giving yourself a double take. It’s a combination of the skin tight baby blue dress paired with the oversized leather jacket and Sumi’s surprisingly nasty playlist that has you feeling yourself. Eyes smoked out with enough black shadow to have you dreading the process of taking it off later.

“You look like Mick Jagger just had its way with you.” Sydney has never been one to enter any sort of situation casually.

“That made me a little horny.” You say, returning the smile that forms on her lips at your words.

“Great. Let’s make it worst with tequila,” she holds the bottle towards you, half full with clear liquid dancing around the thick glass.

“It’s like you guys want me to make bad decisions tonight.” Sumi says, one half of her hair curled and the other flat as she rests a hand on her hip dismissively.

“That’s when you’re even more fun, Sumi.” Sydney says, glossy lips smacking against her cheek.

“Ew.”

“See? You wouldn’t reject my affection after one shot of tequila.”

She smiles. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You clap. “That’s my girl.”

Sydney moves swiftly around your apartment, a natural in the kitchen – when it comes to a perfect tequila shot ensemble, that is. She displays it like she would a charcuterie board; a row of limes lined in perfect crescent moon shapes and little mountains of salt to ease the kick. She comes out from behind the counter, plate in hand and fingers tightly gripping to the neck of the tequila bottle. Her walk is flirty, steps skipping some as excitement is perfectly reflected on her face and the little giggles she lets out as she kneels in front of your coffee table.

The tall shot glasses you’d retrieved await the assault as you three work in perfect sync – lime juice coating the rim promptly before you’re dipping it in salt, the clear liquid following. Your eyes widen as some spills, dripping down your hand as Sydney snickers. Sumi complains about her glass being too full.

“Glass half full, not half empty, Sumi.” Sydney sneers.

She simply rolls her eyes, not putting too much of a fight as she raises her glass to join the toast circle you’ve started.

“What to?”

“Whatever we want.” Sydney’s tone is determined and she doesn’t really give you both time to object before she’s clinking her glass to yours, tongue licking around the rim before she’s downing the shot.

You shrug, not unhappy about it one bit as you mimic her movements. Sumi lets out a breathy laugh, pleased as she does the same.

“Who’s on your mind, ___?” Sumi asks, wincing at the burn before she soothes it by biting on the lime.

“No one in particular… you know I like spontaneity.”

“Wasn’t Joonie inside of you like- this morning?” Sydney adds.

“What does that have to do with anything?” You reply, genuinely confused as your friends look at each other, laugh erupting from both of them. “Hey.”

“I want Eunwoo,” Sumi says, tucking her face between her hands, letting out a dreamy sigh.

Sydney snaps her fingers, giving her a thumbs up. “Should I go after Tinder boy,” she ponders for a bit, “What’s his name again?”

“Oh my God, Sydney.” Sumi huffs. “Jungkook.”

“Jungkook!”

“They call him Jungkookie,” you tease, remembering your little encounter with him yesterday at Namjoon’s.

“Aw. That’s almost virginal.” She says, mocking endearment.

You laugh and Sumi throws you a nasty look. “You guys are awful. He seems like an actually nice guy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sydney says in between chuckles.

“You know, not like his troglodyte friends that bolt at the first insinuation of commitment.” Sumi says. “He gives me like… boyfriend of my dreams vibes, you know?”

Both you and Sydney stare at her, half amused, half baffled. Confused but so very entertained at her train of thought. Your eyes remain on her for a couple more seconds before you’re both breaking out in laughter, eyes squinting shut as you throw your heads back, clapping for emphasis. You can’t see or hear the way Sumi scolds the two of you for being so insensitive.

“Well,” Sydney says, attempting to collect herself. “He can be someone else’s boyfriend of my dreams. I’ll be like, a send-off present before he finds the girlfriend of his dreams.”

You high five her, encouraging her funny remarks. “See, Sumi? Isn’t that nice of Syd?”

Sumi stares at you both, shaking her head before she rolls her eyes and downs another shot.

~

You wish you were more of a romantic. You wish you could come up with a million or so pretty words to describe the way life feels in moments like these. You wish there was a better way to phrase what it feels like to be standing in a room full of familiar faces, friendly faces, new faces – beautiful faces. Bodies coming together in sync with the beat of the music. Boys kissing girls, girls kissing boys and kissing girls, too. Boys kissing boys, not an ounce of love and lust suppressed. Just the pure inertia of the moment and a mix of a couple other things that make you even more susceptible to the world around you.

Your eyes close, softly and in what feels like slow motion, as you let yourself be consumed with the feeling, this moment, the heat the bodies around you radiate. A smile forms on your face and something tells you it’ll linger for the rest of the night.

Said smile grows tenfold when your eyes open and your gaze meets Yoongi’s. Joint sitting lazily between his lips, ginger hair tussled and eyes red. He raises a brow at you and your demeanour changes in a matter of seconds – eyelids feeling heavy all of a sudden, your smile turning into a smirk. He returns it – a lopsided grin adorning his features before he takes the joint from his lips, putting it in between yours. You lean forward a little bit, looking into his eyes as he winds the lighter a couple of times before both your eyes land in the flame between you.

The smoke feels dense as it passes through your lips, down your throat and out again in a rhythmic pattern. You feel it right away, that mellow haziness that settles through you. He takes a hit, too, unconsciously taking a step forward. Your hand brushes his and he entwines your fingers, almost instinctively. There’s no rush to Yoongi ever, and he touches just like that.

He fucks like that, too.

“Yoongi…” your voice is airy, but he can hear your thoughts just by the way your lips move.

“Hmm?” His voice is hoarse, cat eyes piercing into yours – not losing eye contact, not even as a cloud of smoke passes his lips.

“I want you.”

You’d be less brass about it but it’s not like those words haven’t left your mouth before – in much more compromising circumstances, even.

He smiles, nodding. One last hit before he’s killing the joint. “Me too.”

“Let’s go.”

“You’re faded, baby. Let’s wait a little.”

He gets closer to you, the hand that’s still locked around yours coming to your lower back, his other sitting at your waist.

“Okay,” you say and your voice is but a whisper, sending shivers down his spine as your lips sit right beside his ear.

“Want some water?” He asks you.

You shake your head. “No, I’ll just go wind down a little. Wait for me here.”

“I will.” And when he says this, his lips are mere inches away from yours, sending your mind into a frenzy, making you feel ten times more drunk. And ten times more high.

You squeeze yourself between the dancing bodies, smiling and knowing eyes as you pass Sumi, arms around Eunwoo’s neck as they kiss. You want to touch and be touched just like that.

You up your pace, making your way to the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge and snatching a bottle of blue Gatorade that you know Jimin and Tae keep as after party favours – and to ease the diabolical hangovers that usually result as consequences to these parties. You take a sip and a deep breath before you walk towards their laundry room, opening the door and closing it behind you as you’re suddenly engulfed in darkness so dense it immediately relaxes you. The music from outside the tiny space is muffled but you still feel your ears ringing from the base.

You light the flash on your phone, quickly making up your surroundings. There’s a washing machine that makes up the far end corner of the room, a snug fit between the walls. You take two steps and in one swift motion you’re sitting on top of it, feet briefly hitting a small shelf that holds detergent and baskets. Mildly claustrophobic yet peaceful, semi-quiet and dark.

You’ll be sober in fifteen minutes max.

~

Jungkook has never felt more sober in his life.

In an almost parallel universe to yours, he finds himself amidst the crowd, not a place in his body left untouched as he takes a step back, body coming into contact with Jin’s, who’s far too busy with a touch of his own to even acknowledge him when he apologizes.

“Sorry for what?” The words lace themselves with a soft giggle, her hands squeezing a little at his chest before they’re traveling upwards and snaking around his neck.

Lola takes a step forward, closing the previous distance Jungkook had put between them and she wastes no time, eyes closing before her lips are grazing his, a soft gust of air passing her mouth in lust. It turns him on and he feels himself letting go a little – his hands at her hips, slowly moving upwards until they rest at her waist, pulling her closer. She giggles again and it pisses him off so he kisses her.

Just like a couple of minutes prior, it’s sloppy. Her tongue diving straight in for his, soft whines passing her mouth as she puts her hands on top of his, quickly moving them downwards again, passed her hips until she’s closing them around the flesh of her ass. Her skirt rides up and Jungkook can feel her skin at his fingertips. He grabs the hem of her skirt, pulling it down before his hands are back at her hip.

“No,” her words get muffled in-between a whisper and a moan. “Touch me, please.”

Her hand rides up his shirt, nails scraping down the tout muscles of his abdomen. It does nothing to Jungkook – his dick merely reacting by instinct, but his mind is elsewhere and he wants to get out of here.

He chuckles, trying his best to ease the blow for her. “I’m feeling super drunk.”

That’s a lie.

Her hands don’t stop, continuing their little journey, fingertips inches away from the waistband of his jeans.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He says, his hands wrapping around hers and gently taking them off of his body.

She rolls her eyes, uttering a snarky, ‘whatever’ before she’s storming off.

He feels dizzy all of a sudden – the neon lights coming at him quickly, the music too loud, air too stuffed.

He finds his way out of the crowd, slightly dazed and looking for silence.

~

You’re giggling absentmindedly at your phone as you scroll through twitter. It’s been well over fifteen minutes but you’ve found comfort in your sober state and the tranquillity the small space has provided. You haven’t let go of your goal for the night, still very much feeling that sense of want even after the buzz from the alcohol and the weed wore off. But like you said, Yoongi’s never in a rush and the night is still young.

Glancing at the left-hand corner of your phone, the time reads 2:37. He can wait, you decide, as you go back to a thread titled funny pets. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, until…

Jungkook opens the door gently, stepping inside the space without a second thought. He’d noticed it as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the kitchen, curious as to where it led, knowing it wasn’t a bathroom or one of the two bedrooms he knew well. Silence engulfs him and he relaxes immediately, letting his shoulders drop – the tension leaving his body.

It’s short-lived, though – a bright light shining onto his face as soon as he turns around.

“Who are you?”

He recognizes your voice, body tensing all over again and eyes widening in shock. He can’t see you, the bright light blinding him and he puts a hand right in front of it, eyes squinting in pain.

“Uh…-” He begins, and it’s a mixture of that nervous stutter and your eyes finally accommodating on his face that gives it away.

“Oh. It’s… you.” You say, voice faltering slightly as you very obviously struggle at remembering his name.

He looks down at the floor, though he can’t see much as you turn the flashlight off and all that illuminates the room is a cat picture that displays on your screen.

“Jungkook.” He says, voice so faint he physically feels all the confidence he’s spent his entire life garnering evaporate right out of him.

“Yeah,” you say, uninterested but he’s not surprised. “What are you doing here?” You ponder. But before he can answer, your mind goes elsewhere. “Did Yoongi send you looking for me?”

“Yoongi- no. He didn’t.”

“Then?”

Your tone is harsh, bordering on mean – or maybe he’s a cry baby that would very much like for you to say his name the way you say Yoongi’s. Or any of his friends’ for that matter. But beyond his personal desires, he doesn’t understand it.

“Uh… I just needed a breather.”

“And your first option is the shoe box laundry room?”

Mean, again. He wishes he had the power in him to give you a snarky comment back. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t know it was a shoe box… laundry room.” He says, growing nervous as he hears the way you let out a quiet sigh mid-sentence.

“Well, two’s a crowd.”

He’s about to apologize (for what, he doesn’t know), before you’re nearly plunging yourself from your seating position on the washing machine. You must’ve calculated wrong because you end up not so very gracefully landing on the floor – not only stepping on his foot, but also colliding with Jungkook’s body. The space is tight; too tight, and the impact of your body on his send him tumbling backwards until his back hits the door with a thud – his head following, and then, of course, you. He’d held onto your waist as an instinct, a futile attempt to steady you. You tumble forwards, hands on his shoulders and totally off balance.

You look up, grunting a little and cursing under your breath and though you can’t see much, you can make up the way he winces in pain, eyes tightly shut from banging his head against the door like that.

“Are you okay?” Your question comes off as abrupt – volume too loud for Jungkook and his aching head.

“Huh?”

“Ugh.”

You can’t explain it.

You can’t explain why he exasperates you to the point of rudeness – which, promise, you are not. He stutters his words and can’t hold eye contact and talks with a damn lisp the more you pressure him into keeping a conversation flowing. He seems spaced out all the time and even though it was your clumsiness that landed you in this position, you blame him.

You also can’t seem to explain why you can’t push yourself away from him. Or how your hands inched closer to his chest, index finger hooked inside his shirt, right over his collarbone. It makes the whole situation even more exasperating.

You squint, trying to make up his features – observing him. His eyes open suddenly, catching you in the act almost and you roll yours, narrowing them at him and that’s when you lose his gaze as he turns his face to the side. His skin feels hot under your fingertip and you can’t see it but you know he’s blushing.

Ugh.

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.

Ugh!

“Ugh.” You say again, straightening your body and pulling Jungkook up with you. But despite this, you don’t break the proximity – your bodies still flush to one another. Your movements make him look up at you again and when he does, you ask again, “Are you okay?” only this time you space out your words, bluntly pausing so he understands. It’s condescending.

(And hot.)

“Yeah.”

His response barely passes his lips before you’re pressing yours against them. Hard but then soft all of a sudden as you swallow a soft gasp of his, the way his chest flutters over yours hitting you straight in the stomach – a tingle almost. A feeling you wouldn’t dare call butterflies because you are not twelve, or sixteen. Or dumb, for that matter.

Jungkook’s head spins and he feels dizzy, swearing to himself he must have a concussion because there’s no way in hell you’re kissing him right now. Him. You. Your hand snakes around his neck, nails scraping softly, contrasting with the way your mouth moves against his. His hands are on your waist but he can’t seem to move them, his brain wanting nothing more than to squeeze and bring you closer, spin you around until he can press himself impossibly tight to you.

His lips give in first, mouth opening for you as your tongue glides against the plump flesh. Your tongue slides right in, sensual and slow yet filled with need. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt anyone kiss him like that before, like you’re saying more than words could ever do justice. In complete sync with your body as your hands travel upwards, tangling themselves in his locks of raven hair. He tries his best to mimic your actions, to kiss you as so you can tell that he wants this, too. He wants you – so fucking much.

You so badly want to be bored out of your mind – uninterested. To feel unsatiated with his gentle touches. With the way you can feel his thumb circling over your waist softly, and his tongue dancing with yours slowly. You wish you could say you fed your curiosity with a kiss but when he pulls away, lips forming a pout so as to make it last longer, you want more.

His eyelids flutter dreamily, heavy with something that doubles as lust but hints to something else you can’t quite put your finger on. All you know is that they move in sync with yours and it takes you about a second to give into your impulses.

Your fist closes around the soft material of his black long-sleeved shirt – it’s oversized and makes him look so boy. He’s taken aback but follows, ever so compliant, still feeling like he’s stuck in some sort of fever dream – slightly concerned, still in the concussion theory. But you’re very much real and it takes you all but two steps backwards until your back is hitting the washing machine again and you’re pushing yourself upwards, sitting back on – right where he found you.

Your legs part, tight dress hiking up but you don’t seem to care as you pull him to you once again and he falls perfectly into that space you’ve nuzzled for him in-between your thighs. His hands grip the corners of the washing machine, trying to find balance as you take him off-guard. A soft little whine passes your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist and if the head bang didn’t get him dizzy enough, this for sure did.

“You can- touch me. Please.” You don’t part your lips as the words leave you and it drives him crazy – your breath on his and the way you nod when he nods, almost eagerly.

His hands rest on your legs, a feathery touch at first but it immediately sends a wave of goosebumps traveling down your skin in a perfect domino effect. He squeezes lightly, sighing softly against your lips at the feel of your skin. His sigh turns into a hiss as your teeth close around his bottom lip, pulling backwards and letting go, not letting him catch his breath before your mouth is back on his.

He loves it. He loves your boldness that doesn’t feel aggressive. He loves the way you want him and the way you showed him, right after rolling your eyes at him. Not any less of an enigma just because his tongue was on yours, you still confused him. But he was too focused on the other things you made him feel right this second and so the thought left him.

You can feel the effect you’re starting to have on him – he kisses you with more hunger, touches you with more need, the fear fading away the more you show yourself receptive. Which you are, inevitably so, receptive to him. To the physicality of the actions you’re engaging in and to the way he sounds, and smells, and feels. It’s all overpowering your every sense and when you realize you’re not only free falling into indulgence but also doing it whilst sober, you stop dead in your tracks.

Jungkook follows right behind you, stopping too. He looks at you, half his face illuminated and the other embraced by the darkness that surrounds you. You want to see him, but not being able to makes you feel more comfortable. You don’t want him to see you, but you know he is – you can tell by the way his gaze grows soft, eyebrows falling into his face slightly and head cocking to the side a bit. He sighs and your skin feels hot, but it’s not really out of horniness or lust.

He’s about to speak, his eyes looking apologetic and you don’t think you can deal with his softness when he’s putting it in words right now, so you kiss him. You kiss him hard and you kiss him good and when your hands land on top of his, you encourage him to explore further. Someone had taken that sort of lead on him today as well, yet the way you do it does things to him that could never compare to anything he’s felt before.

Your legs lose the grip they had around his waist, instinctively parting as you lean back slightly. Breaking off the kiss, you draw your lips in-between your lips and this time when you stare, you’re back to minx. His hand inches closer to your inner thigh and he’s acting purely by instinct. Now, he’s not unfamiliar with a woman’s body, but the way you’re looking at him right now makes him feel like he’s back to square 0.

“Is this okay?” He asks, taking you by surprise.

A part of you wants to reciprocate his gentleness but you don’t allow it to show. Instead, your gaze grows lusty as you say, “You haven’t done anything for me to judge your performance, so I guess I don’t know.”

If Jungkook were to be brutally honest, he has no idea what you mean by that, but he goes with the way your hips move closer to his hand, legs parting further – eyebrow raising at him, almost tempting him to play. When his knuckle grazes right over your clit through your lacy panties, you mewl – hips circling and body jolting in anticipation.

You’re so fucking hot he has to lock his lips with yours, eyes closed to ground himself and step back into this moment because you’re making it really hard for him right now. Emphasis on the hard. You kiss him back – mouth parting when his fingers move on you. Index and middle finger circling around your entrance over your panties, then slowly teasing with feathery touches until they reach your clit, applying more pressure the more erratic your breathing gets.

“Don’t tease.” Your attempt at keeping your tone collected is laughable but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, quickly complying to your needs as his fingers hook inside the side of your panties, parting your plump folds and letting himself bask in your heat.

A moan escapes his mouth as he says, “you’re so wet.” And though his voice is shy, his touches are anything but.

“Yeah?” You ask and he nods against your mouth. “Fix it, then.”

His thumb circles your clit, swollen and pulsing even though he’s just got his hands on you seconds before. He draws figure eights against the bundle of nerves and your head draws back, face scrunched up in pleasure as soft moans escape your lips. He can tell you’re trying to control yourself and there’s something about it that doesn’t sit quite right with him. His middle and ring finger tease at your entrance for about a second and you’re dripping – wet enough for him to push two fingers inside of you. It’s skilful and immediate, the way his fingers arch, finding that spot right away – taking you so aback your legs close around his hand.

“Oh,” and when the rest of your words get caught up in your throat as a whine replaces them, his movements slow. “Keep going- like that.” You encourage and he resumes his previous pace.

Your cunt is snug around his fingers, slick juices dripping down his hand and he’s so deep he can feel them running down his wrist. Every time he hits that spot inside of you, your breath hitches in your throat, voice too frail to praise and perhaps ego, too. But your body is so telling, there’s no doubt in him he’s doing a good job. His fingers pull out of you, a lewd sound filling the room as he circles them against your clit – your wetness aiding to the feeling and allowing him to be fast, hand moving with quick precision.

“Fuck- fuck. That feels so good.”

His head drops to your shoulder, pace never faltering, fingers gliding down at your entrance, relishing in the way your little pussy clenches around nothing – already missing the fullness his digits provided. Your cheek comes flush with his, lips grazing his ear as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly. He’s moaning as if you were reciprocating his ministrations – raspy voice taking on a breathy feeling to it, hitting right against your neck.

You grab his face, making him look at you before you’re crashing your lips onto his, pulling back for a second, eyes closing as you feel your tummy contract at the feeling he’s providing.

“Fuck me with your fingers- please. Please, Jungkook.”

It’s the way you say his name, removing all sense from him and leaving him wild. A throaty moan passing his chest, leaving his mouth before he’s bringing his hand closer to his mouth, spitting on it in an obscene way that only sends you further into your impending doom. You almost don’t want it to stop – you’d let him finger fuck you inside this laundry room forever if you could. It feels that good.

His fingers dive back inside of you and you can feel the way he’s purposely stretching you, scissoring motions hitting unfamiliar spots, making you throw your head back in pleasure. He adds a third finger and it takes you aback, sending you right onto the edge much closer than you’d expected.

“Oh my- fucking God. I’m so close.”

“Yeah?”

His question is rhetorical, bordering on cocky and it makes the moment ten times more devastatingly sexy.

Jeon Jungkook is devastatingly sexy.

Jeon Jungkook with the stutters and the lisp and the ability to draw every ounce of patience out of you.

Jeon Jungkook is about to make you,

“Cum. I’m gonna cum.”

He goes deeper, harder – almost as if he’d saved the best for last as the push and pull of his fingers send flutters down your lower tummy before they turn into a whole explosion as the moan that’s sitting at the tip of your tongue comes out as a scream.

You cum around his fingers for what feels like way more seconds than you’d ever cum before. Thighs closing around his forearm, body shaking and glistening in sweat. Your juices so slick it begins to feel uncomfortable as you start coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Holy- shit. What the fuck.”

Jungkook just stares at you – fully taken aback by probably one of the hottest things he’s ever seen in his entire life. All at his expense.

You’re spent. Knees trembling and hands a bit shaky and clammy as you remove your jacket and grab your forgotten bottle of Gatorade to try to restore the hydration in your body. You feel the way he gently fixes your panties, covering you up. It makes your heart seize inside your chest and you don’t only feel sober but also aware. Very aware. More aware than you’ve probably felt in your life, though you can’t quite put a finger on it.

Whatever it is, you push it to the side.

With dangerously trembling legs, you jump from where you sit on the washing machine, taking Jungkook aback as he takes a step backwards. Grabbing your phone, you turn to him, smiling – your eyes back to unreadable, nonchalant.

“That was good.” You say, almost as if you were referring to anything but the fact that he just fingered you inside a shoe box sized laundry room despite barely having exchanged any words and being pretty sure you hated him. He’s painfully hard and can’t think straight so when he doesn’t respond you give him a tight-lipped smile, lazily waving your hand at him before you say, “bye!”

And just like that, you’re gone.

Scratch that, he is pretty sure you hate him.

So, what the fuck just happened?

~

let me know if u enjoyed and if you'd like to be added to the taglist. I dont think it'll have too many parts but it's fun to write <33 I love u guys sm! xx

between roommates | jeon jungkook au

summary | you’ve got a crush on kim namjoon. Namjoon being jungkook’s friend, jungkook being your roommate. things get complicated somewhere down the line that leaves him regretting pushing you toward his own friend when he wants you just as bad. as roommates he knows you shouldn’t, but damn did he really want you.

warnings | roommates one shot!, fluff, SMUT, Namjoon is kinda a fuckboy, jungkook is too but not as bad, drinking, heavy makeouts, a little bit of Namjoon x reader, safe sex, cunnilingus, pet names, oral (f recieving), missionary, they break a headboard, not that many warnings idk, not edited.

“No offense, but I don’t think you and I will ever work out. I need someone I can actually hold a conversation with on a more philosophical level.”

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