INSANITY. {cr. Namuspromised}

-> This is a bad idea. Jungkook is a bad guy. But just one time can't hurt anybody. Right?

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: pwp, enemies to lovers, roommate!au

Warnings: masterbation (f), Jungkook is a little shit, oc hates him but he's fuckin hot and she daydreams about him constantly, nudity, dirty talk, fingering in front of a mirror, lil overstimulation, creampie, marking/hickie, these two are thirsty as all hell

Wc: 1.6K

a/n: I wrote this drabble for a request that got deleted a while back, but here it is edited and revamped and ready to be released into the world.

"Fuck Jungkook, you fucking jerk!"

Images of his stupid, pretty face flash behind your eyes as your head falls against the shower wall. Hot water hits your skin, dripping down your body, the curves of your chest and waist, and trails off your wrist. Your fingers aren't very big or long -- not like his -- but you'll be damned before you verbally admit how desperate you are to have his fingers inside you.

It's shameful to fantasize about your worst enemy while pleasuring yourself in the shower. Maybe you're sick or maybe he's just that fucking hot. Either way, if anyone found out just how often you think about him in this way, your entire life would be over. No one does this, but the opportunity of Jungkook kneeling between your legs and responsibly sopping up the mess he's caused makes you shudder with anticipation.

Softly closing your eyes, you can picture how he might feel against you, where he might kiss, how he might touch you. Are you insane to want that? After everything he's done to you? Maybe. Probably. Fuck you don't know.

Spreading your fingers, you attempt to stretch your already sore cunt until you feel a sharp sting. Is he this big? Bigger? You place your thumb over your clit to numb the pain, sighing his name as you feel yourself nearing a beautiful high.

It's no use. You've never been able to cum on your own. Not once. It's painfully upsetting that the only person who could possibly make you cum is the only person you would drop dead before asking for help.

You've turned it into a little game though, for loss of a better alternative. Jungkook is so the type to edge you on, you just know it. He'd tease you relentlessly with his body just like he teases you with his words. And hell, you love that headcannon.

He'd be leaning over you, your body writhing with pleasure after hours and hours of being trapped beneath him, clenching around his massive cock as it pulses inside you. His teeth would be on your neck, biting like he's trying to eat you and leaving behind bruises that spell his name on your skin. With a cocky smirk and a snap of his hips, he'd always hit that perfect spot, always. Because he knows you, he knows your body, he knows what you like and how you like it. And after you've begged enough to please him, he might just give you what you want.

"...please," you beg absolutely no one in particular, "let me cum, damn it."

"You promise to be a good girl?"

Shit you can actually hear him now, his smooth voice like acid in your ears sending waves through your body as it mixes with the faint patter of the shower. Poisonous but you like it.

"Yes! I promise, I'll be a good girl for you, Jungkook, so let me, ahhh, let me cum all over your dick."

He hisses, "I don't know, this seems kinda fast. Don't you think we should at least go on a date or something first?"

Wait a second.

You pick up your head and widen your eyes to see him leaning against the foggy, full body mirror across from your shower with a ridiculously cocky tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

You're petrified. He straight up laughs.

"What are you doing here?!"

His expression falls. "I live here, remember? Or did your dumbass brain forget I pay half the rent."

You roll your eyes and cut the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself. "Go away, Jungkook."

"But you were calling for me," he bites his lip, following you around the apartment as you collect clothes from the dyer and lotion from the closet.

"I wasn't calling for you."

"Then what were you doing?" he asks with a sly smile. "Sounded like begging to me. Sounded nice."

Your cheeks heat up, the painful throbbing between your legs hasn't stopped since you left the bathroom and this is not helping either. Stopping in front of your vanity, you attempt not to let your head explode.

"You were thinking about me in the shower."

"I was not."

"Liar."

He doesn't touch you but he does get as close as possible, leaning over your shoulder like a damn serial killer or something, hot breath fanning your ear and hands hovering over your towel, just waiting for you to give him the go to rip it off.

"I think about you too. At night, when I'm alone in my bed and I can't fall asleep. I think about you, what you sound like, what you taste like. Fuck I wanna know what you taste like so bad."

He's mere inches from touching your skin, arm coming around your frame to the front of your body, hovering just in front your legs, fingers lightly tracing the edge of your towel. You can feel your resolve breaking.

"I hate you," you sigh, closing your eyes to highten the feeling of his presence.

He chuckles, "The feeling is mutual. But does that mean we can't make each other feel good? You seemed awfully close in the shower, I'm sure it wouldn't take much. Let me help you." His lips ghost the shell of your ear and even though he still isn't directly touching you, your body feels sparks everywhere he hovers.

"Just one time?"

"Just one time," he promises.

"Just your fingers."

"Just my fingers."

His hand disappears inside your towel, soft digits poking at the crease between your clenched thighs until you separate them willingly. It only takes one touch and you gasp, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like fireworks. It's so much better than you even imagined, his middle finger sliding over your slit before flicking your clit with expertise, as if he's always known you. When he thrusts two fingers inside, you bend at the will of his touch, falling into his chest and reaching behind your head to hold onto him.

He doesn't mind. Dipping his lips into your neck, it's the perfect placement for you to grip his hair and pull each time the hilt of his palm rubs against your clit and his fingers thrust deep inside your soaking hole. He reaches deeper than you ever could, stretching you perfectly. Even though he promised just his fingers, you imagine this is how he would prep you to take his dick.

Oh, and he would have to prep you. You can tell that much just from the feel of him pressing into your ass. He's swollen inside his sweats, painful and obviously in need. But he doesn't grind, doesn't roll his hips. He just holds you flush against him, a solid support for your weakening knees that threaten to collapse beneath you. He stays focused on getting you off because you begged for his fingers so nicely. It's the least he should do for such a good girl.

Just like he said, it doesn't take much. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as your orgasm rips through your body, subtle waves pulsing from your stomach to the tips of your toes. You let out a strangled moan of his name, causing a wicked smile to grace his lips. His fingers fuck you through it all, coated in your juices and sliding over your clit easily until your trembling from overstimulation.

"Too much," you whimper, breathless when he continues to abuse your poor bundle of nerves.

"You couldn't cum, could you?"

"What?"

"In the shower. You touched yourself for so long but you couldn't do it on your own. I touched you for five minutes and you cream like that? You need me, admit it."

His words crush you but he's right. Even now, as he suddenly pulls his hand away, you can feel your walls still spasming in earnest begging for his fingers to return, or even better, for his cock to fill you up.

He watches you twist around to face him. Slowly, you look at him with deep eyes sinking into his gaze and a voiceless question on your lips.

"Say it," he commands. "Say you need me to make you cum."

It's pointless. You caved. He touched you. You let him. You liked it. But still. There's something in his eyes that has you pausing. A hunger. Restrains that aren't doing much as this point, they're bound to snap any second as he leans closer, eyes fanning over your face and bouncing between your lips and your nose.

Your towel drops to the ground. "I need you."

He scans your body up and down, swallowing hard when he see the absolute mess between your legs dripping down your thigh. He wants to touch you again, but stops.

"Just my fingers?"

He needs you to say it, give him permission to use more, do more. When his tongue pokes out and wets his lips, you get an idea of what he's thinking.

"No." You place his hands on your ass and urge him to give a tight squeeze. "Said you wanna know how I taste. Wanna know what your name sounds like when I'm filled with your cock, don't you?"

There's a physically obvious effect your words have on him. With his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you roughly against his body now, his dick straining against his sweats and poking between your thighs. He sighs, deep like gravel and then inhales a sharp hiss as his hips grind against you and his teeth nibble at the sensitive skin of your bottom lip.

"Just one time?"

"Just one time."

::

taglist: @staerryminimini @unicornbabylover @kookieswan @sugarflywme @dvalitaes @kookiecrumb @jeonsjiddies @taeshobipop @myooniverse @miscelunaaa @highly-functioning-mitochondria @azreeeeee @armys-dna @thesugatoyourtae @jmforevs @kimprosperi @jjkeverlast @joontied @pamzn @ssaboala @hobipost @shotalvr @jimilter @sleepilysworld @rjsmochii @familiarlikemymirror3 @gimmethatagustd @alluringfairies @minijagiya @roseyykris @jwnghyuns @alora162021 @kaitaesupremacy @squawkadoodledoo @jimin2014 @jminthinker @femmesstuff @valhallawhispers @bora-kat @bloodline1632 @lookhere-2seok @hoseokteardrop

“It sucks when the only person who can make you feel better is also the reason you always cry.”

—

he is the prettiest of the pretty ♡

♪ i'm the one i should love (cr. namuspromised)

tongue tied | jjk

“Jeez, you’re acting like I asked to peg you or something.”

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: neighbors au, fluff, brief mentions of sex and drinking, jk is v frustrated

word count: 1.5k

note: this is the first piece of writing i’ve ever posted on tumblr i’m so nervous just writing this note 🥺 😩 anywayyyyy enjoy this baby drabble and i would really appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have 🥺

series masterpost | main masterlist

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

The sound of your voice pulls Jungkook from his thoughts as he brings the car to a stop. He turns to look at you and deepens the frown that’s been present your entire journey home from work. “What?”

You gesture to his face, where irritation contorts his usually soft features; eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together tightly. There’s a tongue poking the inside of a cheek once in a while.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair in frustration, sighing heavily as he glares at the red light in front of him in a silent prayer because he can not wait to get out of this stuffy car and away from you.

Keep reading

the sweetest rose 🌹

singing my bloom. happy birthday, hoseok ♡

Kiss Me | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, College!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping, Jimin's an annoying Cupid, Jin's a shaggy-haired BMOC heartthrob

Word Count: 5.9k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Somehow all the videos you've taken all year star no one but Kim Seokjin. When did you fall in love with your best friend?

A/N: This all stems from a TikTok video montage of Jin set to "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer. Jin is truly just a 90's dreamboat living in modern times, so why not write a fic about that? Thanks to @thatlongspringnight @miscelunaaa @lavienjin @wwilloww @reliablemitten @dntaewithluv for encouraging me to do this! Dedicated to all my possums. 💕

Fic is set in the mid-to-late 1990s. Unbeta'd as usual. I would love to hear what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Jimin greets you as he enters the editing room. You’ve been sitting alone, drumming your fingers on the desk while you waited for him to arrive. “The ad guys needed me to sign off on a few things and you know what talkers they can be.”

“No prob,” you shrug. “So what’s up? You said it was some sort of emergency?”

When you first read the email from your editor earlier that day, you’d panicked a little, fearing the worst. As head videographer of your college’s yearbook staff, ‘the worst’ meant that something had happened to the multiple videocassettes you’d dropped off the other day. Those tapes contain every event you’ve attended over your entire junior year. Without them, there basically is no video yearbook.

But when you got to the editing room and found the tapes right where you’d left them, you figured Jimin was just being his usual overdramatic self. Probably just needed you to help him pick out a font or something.

He crosses his arms. “Did you watch any of the tapes before you brought them in?”

“Enough to confirm that I actually recorded stuff, yeah, I watched them a little.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Did you notice anything… unusual about them? Any recurring themes, perhaps?”

“Uh….” Themes? You were a videographer, not a cinematographer. “Can you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better. Let me show you what I’m talking about.” He clicks on the main tv and presses play on the VCR. As a tape whirs to life, a handsome face flickers on the screen.

It’s a face you’ve seen nearly every day for the last 3 years. Your best friend, Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly on screen, dark hair hanging in his warm eyes, and your heart flutters as if he were looking at you and not the lens of a camera. From the outfit he wears, a warm-up suit in your school’s colors, you guess this is the video from one of his tennis matches.

After a few shots of him hitting a few serves, he’s replaced by another Seokjin, this one dressed casually, a bright pink and yellow t-shirt and matching shorts, playing hacky sack on the quad with some other students. The camera stays on Seokjin even when he’s not the one juggling the sack. His squeaky laugh fills your ears, making you smile.

“Did you start editing these together?” you ask. “Interesting choice to segue from Jin to Jin.”

“Hmmm, yeah, interesting,” Jimin replies drily.

Hacky sack Seokjin is gone now. Your brow furrows as you watch yet another Seokjin cavorting on the tv, this one shirtless, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks, chasing members of his fraternity with a hose. Clearly this is from the fundraiser car wash they’d had a few weeks ago. Water drips from his wet shirt, which clings to him as he pretends like he’s going to spray the camera and you audibly gulp.

There’s Seokjin in his choir robes, making you swoon as he sings a solo in his crystal-clear tenor. Seokjin wearing one of his many pastel hoodies, tutoring several students in the library. Seokjin dressed in formalwear, looking like a model rather than a college student, winking at the camera.

But why were these all cut together like this?

Jimin presses pause and the footage freezes midwink. “Do you see the problem yet?”

“I don’t know if it’s a problem, but it’s certainly an unusual approach for a yearbook to focus on only one student, Jimin.”

“Yeah, no shit! That’s the issue,” he sighs.

“Okay. So… why did you pick all of Jin’s shots? Why not throw in some other students?”

Jimin stares at you. “Are you… are you kidding me? I didn’t choose Jin’s shots, I used the only shots you gave me! Each tape is filled with nothing but Kim Seokjin!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Well, it’s not my fault that he’s in every freaking activity and organization on campus! Tennis, choir, President of the environmental club, President of the photography club, President of Beta Tau Sigma… do I need to go on?”

Jimin gives you a stern look. “Sure, he’s the big man on campus who apparently never sleeps, but he’s not the only person in those activities! And yet you made him the star of every video!”

“Fuck off, no I didn’t.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at your protest. “Oh, come on! There’s no way. You’re being a real butthead right now - if there’s a joke here, I don’t get it.“

He pops the cassette out and exchanges it for one with ‘baseball championship’ scrawled across it in your handwriting.

“Ha, Jin doesn’t even play… baseball.” Your elation sputters out as the camera pans over the crowd at the biggest game of the year, only to stop and zoom in on Seokjin, who is trying desperately to start the wave. He’s eventually successful, which you discover because the camera never pans away. Not even when a loud roar goes up as something exciting happens on the field. Possibly the game-winning home run that clinched the tournament for your school - you’re not sure, because all you see is Seokjin.

Jimin stops the tape. “Explain that.”

You can’t.

He sighs, patting your arm. “It’s okay. I was once where you are, a young, lovesick puppy following my crush around. You’ll grow out of it.”

“First of all, you’re only 3 weeks older than me, so you can drop the enlightened elder routine, dude, and secondly, I am not a lovesick puppy!” Seokjin is your friend. Jimin knows that. Why is he being such a tool right now?

Jimin says your name in the most condescending “oh honey” tone he can muster. “You really need to figure some things out, huh?” He hands you the tape of his edits. “Here. Maybe this will help.”

“I don’t…”

“The good news is, I think I can still cobble something together using your tapes and the footage provided by our other videographers.” He winces. “I might have to deploy, like, John Woo-levels of slo-mo in order to pad it out a little here and there, but I’ll figure it out.” He clicks off the tv and stands, and you automatically do the same. “I need some java if I’m going to survive a late-night editing session. Want to hit the coffee hut with me?”

“No thanks. If we’re done… ?”

Jimin nods. “Yeah, I’ve got it from here.” You start to leave and he stops you, calling your name. “You should really watch the rest of that. It might clear a few things up for you.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving over your shoulder.

As you wander out of the student center, you barely take note of the students who call your name and wave to you on your trek back to your dorm. The video is still in your hand. You gaze at it as if it’s a snake, expecting it to bite at any second. What are you supposed to do with this?

Well, obviously there’s only one thing you can do with that tape.

You watch it.

Thankfully, you are alone in your dorm room, since your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night, so you don’t have to explain to her why you’re watching a Kim Seokjin compilation. You’re not sure you could explain it. Especially when you don’t fully understand it yourself.

The scenes you’d watched with Jimin roll by, a montage of Seokjin moments that already live in your head 24/7. You reach the shot of him in his rented tuxedo, mingling with his frat brothers and their dates at their winter formal, and can’t help but admire your friend again.

Jimin chose not to cut to another clip of Seokjin here, though. Instead, he let the tape play.

On your little tv screen, Seokjin sees you aiming the camera at him and laughs, sweeping his long black bangs off his forehead. “Are you going to stay behind that thing all night?”

The camera shakes slightly as your giggles float through the speakers. “Duh, of course. I’m on official business tonight.”

Technically, you were there for the yearbook. But Seokjin didn’t have a date for the evening, so you were also attending the dance with him. Wearing a satiny floor-length gown in your favorite color, the one that really made your eyes pop, you hoped you looked the part of a stunning date even if you were just the best friend helping out.

“Besides, you’re one to talk.” You zoom in on the beloved vintage Fujipet in Seokjin’s hand. You were used to seeing the shiny black and chrome camera at special events. But tonight he’s hardly been without it for more than a few minutes. Mostly during dinner, while wolfing down his meal. “That thing’s practically glued to your hand.”

Seokjin immediately sets the Fujipet down. “Okay, your turn.”

“Jin,” your voice whines, “stop. I can’t!”

“Aish, you take that yearbook too seriously. You’re missing out on so much!”

“Uh, as if! I’m literally capturing everything!” you retort indignantly. Seokjin knows how seriously you take this.

One night, many months ago, while reveling in the freedom of being young and very drunk, you’d given Seokjin an impromptu sermon about your hobby.

“Life is fleeting, Jinnie,” you’d slurred, waving your bottle of beer around. The two of you were sitting on his fraternity’s stoop, enjoying a surprisingly warm winter night. “It’s so fucking short! You have to - have to try to hold on to those moments, you know? Because you blink and poof! They’re gone. That’s why I want to record them all.”

“Them all what?” Seokjin, a bit of a lightweight, struggled to follow your speech.

“Huh?”

“What?”

You both dissolved into giggles as Seokjin leaned against you. After a few seconds, you started again. “My point is, you have to capture those moments if you can. So they live on. That’s what I want to do. I wanna grab that magic and store it away to share with others when they need it. I want to - to capture the world!” Throwing your arms up, you accidentally smacked Seokjin in the face, and the rest of the night disintegrated into drunken laughter and apologies after that.

He knows this is important to you. Maybe that’s why he resorts to begging.

“Yeah, you’re capturing it. But you’re not experiencing it! Come on, put it down for a minute and dance with me. Just one dance! Please?” Seokjin pleads with a pout, throwing you his best puppy dog eyes. He knows you can’t resist that look, and offscreen you hear yourself sigh.

“Fine. One dance. Let me pause.” The image jumps wildly as you place the camera on a table at the edge of the dance floor. It must be lying on its side, based on the way everything suddenly shifts, and you can hear a click like you’ve pressed something, but the tape keeps rolling.

How long is this scene going to run? Jimin must’ve thought it was vital to his little clip show, so you flop over onto your bed, tilting your head to better watch the strange angle on the tv screen. Maybe watching nearly upside-down will bring you more clarity than watching it right-side up did.

Seokjin holds out his hand and leads you to where other couples are already swaying to the music blasting from the dj booth. Since you’re alone now, you grab the remote, cranking the volume high. It’s one of your favorite songs - ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer.

He draws you close, long arms wrapping around your waist, a comforting weight settling against your back. He’s warm under your touch, soft, but also solid, the silk of his collar brushing against your fingertips as you rest your hands on the nape of his neck.

The camera can only watch from a distance as the two of you begin to dance slowly, but it’s not like you really need the video. You remember that night pretty well, given that you stayed sober so you could film everything. You’d learned your lesson about manning the camera drunk after you tried to record your roommate’s birthday party one year and ended up with 2 hours of nothing but lens cap.

“See?” Seokjin says after a few seconds. “Isn’t this better?”

“Eh,” you shrug, a teasing smile on your lips. Seokjin laughs.

How could you be blamed for wanting to focus on such a gorgeous man? The camera isn’t zoomed in right now, but you don’t need that machine to show you what’s already so strongly emblazoned in your mind. Those expressive eyes that glimmer as he gazes at you. The way his pouty lips part, revealing that brilliant smile you love so much.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course! What’s a best friend for?” You beam up at him.

“Right…” he replies, chuckling softly. “Best friend…” He trails off, eyes scanning the couples around you as he leads you around the floor.

Even without the aid of the microphone, you swear you can hear his heart beating loudly as you rest your head on his shoulder, just like you heard it that night.

The camera watches as Seokjin says something that makes you lift your head. And once again you’re struck by just how gorgeous he is. But he’s so much more than that. He’s the funniest. The smartest. The sweetest.

Why not make him the center of your videos? The yearbook needs to be interesting, to entertain people, captivate them, make them want to watch it over and over, maybe wishing they could be there, at those games or concerts or even in the quiet moments you’ve filmed, like this one, just you and Seokjin, slowly spinning around the room in one another’s arms, you smiling up at him like there’s no one else in the w-

Oh.

Oh.

Sitting up quickly, the blood rushes directly to your head and you tip backwards into your pillows, woozy. But it’s not just the sudden flush that makes you feel dizzy. A dozen questions pop into your head, causing emotional vertigo.

How the fuck have you been so blind to your feelings? When exactly had you fallen in love with your best friend? And if Jimin knows, does anyone else?

The scene finally ends, and the image of you and Seokjin dancing becomes him spearing trash along a highway with the environmental club. But the song starts up from the beginning again - Jimin must’ve dubbed it overtop. What a ridiculous flourish.

The video carries on, Seokjin after Seokjin after Seokjin flashing on screen (god, how many of these events did you attend together? All of them??) After a few minutes, you begrudgingly applaud Jimin’s skills, because he really cut the shots so perfectly to line u-

“What is this?”

“Fuck!” You bolt upright as Seokjin’s voice scares the bejesus out of you. Scrambling for your remote, you smash the stop button before turning around.

He’s standing in your doorway, eyes wide underneath his messy bangs as he stares at the tv. One hand grips the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other plays with the cords on his oversized blue and white hoodie - a nervous tick you’re well-acquainted with.

“I - I didn’t hear you come in,” you stammer.

“Yeah, figured you couldn’t hear me knocking over the music,” he replies, still staring at the blank screen. “Door was unlocked. What was that?”

“The song? ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpe- “

“Not the song.” He finally glances at you. “I know the song. What the hell were you watching?”

“Well, uh… how long have you been standing there?”

He gives you a look.

You could lie. Make up some sort of excuse, maybe something technical that he might not understand, but you don’t think about it for more than a second. This is Seokjin. Your best friend. You can’t lie to him.

You gesture for him to sit. “It’s something that Jimin edited together for me.”

Seokjin plops himself down on the other end of your bed. “He made you a… a music video? Starring yours truly?”

He seems puzzled. It’d be so easy for you to reach out and press your thumb to the little worry lines between his brows and soothe them away. The urge is overwhelming.

How did you not know you loved him?

“Kinda?”

“What do you mean, kinda?” He laughs a little. “That’s definitely what it looked like. Like watching an Mnet broadcast from an alternate dimension.” He pauses. “But why did Jimin make this for you?”

Nervously, you fiddle with your remote. “He went through all the footage I handed in for the yearbook. Apparently, you’re the focus of every video. Doesn’t matter what I was supposed to be shooting - games, parties, whatever - I only recorded you.”

He looks slightly bewildered at this, even with his thriving confidence. “Only me?”

Nodding, you avoid Seokjin’s eye, feeling heat creeping along your neck. It’s embarrassing trying to explain this. “Yeah. Nothing and no one else. I basically filmed a whole year of The Kim Seokjin Show and he… wanted to point that out.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, but still don’t look at him.

Seokjin’s unusually quiet for a few minutes as he contemplates your answers. Then he scoffs, shaking his head. “Let me get this straight. Jimin put this video together just to critique your work? Seems like a dick move.”

“Yeah, well… if it weren’t for the other videographers, we wouldn’t have enough footage for a yearbook, since mine is basically useless, so maybe his dickishness is a little justified.” You sigh, biting your lip as you realize that you’d pretty much let Jimin and the rest of the yearbook staff down.

“Ah. I see.” He tugs on his hoodie drawstrings, pulling them back and forth. “But would a dick go to the trouble of adding a soundtrack?”

“Honestly, I think he was just showing off with that,” you snort. You finally hazard a glance and find him regarding you carefully.

“Look, I get it,” Seokjin sighs, tossing his bangs out of his eyes as he reclines on your bed. “It only makes sense that you would end up making me the focus of all your videos. I mean, come on.” He gestures broadly to himself, and your lips quirk at his more than healthy self-esteem. “Jimin can’t fault you for that. But if you really wanted some good shots of me for your personal collection, you could’ve just asked for a private performance.” With an exaggerated wink, he throws you an air kiss.

“I’ll remember that for next year,” you roll your eyes, but giggle nonetheless.

He grins. “You should. Anyway… wanna grab dinner?”

“On campus?”

“Nah, let’s do takeout.” He starts rattling off a list of options and you just hum along, relieved.

Thank god it was Seokjin who came through the door and not your roommate or one of your friends. There’s no way any of them would’ve let you off the hook so easily. This is what Seokjin always does - he comforts you even in the most awkward, stressful situations. Like trying to explain why you seem to own a highlight reel of your bff’s greatest moments. He cracks a joke at his expense, makes you laugh, and breaks the tension.

No one else is as thoughtful as he is. No one else cares for you the way he does.

No one else.

“Jimin wasn’t being rude,” you start again when he’s finished listing restaurants. “Well, maybe a little, but no more than usual. I think he was also trying to help me.”

Seokjin twists his drawstrings. “Eh, you’re a great videographer, you don’t need his help.”

“That’s, uh, not what I mean. He was just… it’s that…”

It’s hard to find the right words to explain. All you can do is try. Seokjin’s eyebrows lift, encouraging you on, and you smile, grateful for his patience as you gather your thoughts.

“...he was trying to help me realize what’s been in front of me this whole time. I don’t know when something changed, but it did, and,” you pause, “and, I’m only realizing it now, but I… I…”

He must sense something from your tone, or the way you keep stammering, because he’s suddenly serious, dark eyes studying your face carefully as he says your name. “You what?”

Maybe you should be afraid to tell him. But you’re not. He’s your best friend.

You take a deep breath. “I love you, Jin.”

As long as you’ve known Seokjin, you’ve never seen him stunned silent. He always has a joke or a quip for any situation. Always. But your declaration has rendered him speechless. His face goes completely blank, too. It freaks you out a little.

Panic starts to set in. Did you make a mistake? “It’s okay if you don’t - don’t feel the same way. I just needed you to know.” You give him an out.

No response. His eyes shift, landing on your tv. The screen is still blank but the way he gazes at it makes you wonder if he’s seeing something there. If only you could record whatever’s going on inside his head. Replay it over and over until you understand.

The quiet stretches on too long, eating away at you until you can’t take it anymore.

“Please say something,” you finally implore him.

“I…” he blinks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” What’s okay?

“You love me?”

You nod.

“Okay. I… gotta go.” He slides off the bed and slowly backs away.

“What??” You rise up on your knees, mouth dropping open as he essentially moonwalks to the door. Rooted to the spot, you can only stare as he glances at you, his expression still alarmingly vacant.

“I’ll, uh… yeah….” he mumbles, and the door closes behind him.

Dumbfounded, you stare at it.

“What the fuck?!”

20 minutes pass, according to the clock on your nightstand. You haven’t moved a muscle since he left. It’s like you’re frozen, kneeling on your bed. The air around you feels a little cold, as if he took all the warmth from the room when he left.

It’s strange that you haven’t cried. Seokjin breaking your heart should leave you a sobbing mess, but your eyes are dry. You’re not even sure you know how to cry right now. Maybe you’re in shock.

How could he just walk out like that? His best friend confesses that she loves him and he just says “Okay” and bounces?? Was he that repulsed? Unable to bear the thought of you having feelings for him?

There’s no reason to keep staring at the door, but you can’t tear your gaze away as you wonder what will happen next. You’re supposed to meet him for breakfast tomorrow, before class. Will he skip? Go by himself and pretend not to know you?

Or, simply show up like normal and act like nothing happened?

Somehow, that feels like the worst possibility.

Once again, you’re sinking in endless questions, so you shake yourself free and climb off the bed. You need to get out of this room, get as far away from the tv and that tape, that damn videocassette that started it all. Maybe some ice cream would help. The cafeteria should be fairly empty this time of night, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you when you inevitably break down over your Chunky Monkey.

But instead you yank your door open and Seokjin is there and suddenly you remember how to cry.

“What the fuck…” you utter before you’re too choked up to speak. Tears stream down your cheeks.

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat. He steps into the room, sweeping you into his arms for a tight hug. “Whoa, whoa, don’t cry! Please, I’m sorry!” He sort of wobbles you around, walking backwards clumsily as you blubber into his shoulder until your legs hit your bed, gently coaxes you to sit. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that.”

He grabs you a tissue from your nightstand and you accept it with a glare. A soggy glare, but a glare nonetheless. “Then why did you?”

“Because I needed a minute. I’m sorry, I know it was messed up to just run out on you, but I had to think.” He drops his backpack on your bed and unzips it, pulling out a black metal box. “And I needed this.”

“You needed a photo box?” Sniffling, you pick the box up and turn it over in your hands. There are no labels, nothing written anywhere on the box. You shoot him a confused look. “Explain.”

Seokjin pries the lid from the box and tilts his chin. “Take a look.”

A stack of photos sits inside. The top photo is you, video camera in hand, standing near a chain-link fence. You’re lit from behind by the sun, a bright halo radiating around you.

“That’s at my last tennis match,” Jin informs you.

The next photo is you again, camera held up to your eye as you stand on the quad, head tipped way back, mouth slightly open as snowflakes swirl around you.

“First snow, last year. You were trying to film a snowball fight on the quad, but you kept trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.” His laugh squeaks like a rusty hinge as his eyes crinkle. “The video bounced so much it gave me motion sickness.”

One by one, you examine the photos. They’re all the same. Caught in profile, you’re the star of every shot, Seokjin’s camera gazing at you while you view the world through your video camera. You keep flipping as Seokjin keeps talking.

“I think Jimin must’ve been exaggerating. Unusual for him, I know,” Seokjin cackles, and you can’t help but grin. “But you have to have recorded other things, other people. Because if you were only watching me, you would’ve seen me only watching you.”

The lump in your throat returns as you look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” he replies softly. “You told me once how much you wanted to capture the world. That stuck with me.”

“It did?” Placing the photos back in the box, you push it aside.

“Yeah. It did.”

“But… these are only photos of me?”

“Right.” Seokjin shuffles nearer, until his thigh rubs against yours. He slides his thumb across your cheek, through the tears that cling there, and your eyes fall shut at his touch. “Don’t you get it? You’re my world.”

Your eyes flutter open. “Jin. Kiss me.”

He leans in and you meet him halfway as his mouth presses against yours. It’s soft, chaste almost, your lips just brushing. Then he tilts his head, cupping your face to bring you closer, and suddenly you’re kissing. Really kissing, mouths parting, tongues colliding, your hands in his hair, his hands tugging you into his lap. You breathe him, touch him, taste him. Him, him, him.

Your Jin.

God knows how much time goes by before you break apart. Jin’s face is bright red as he grins at you. You trace your finger along his plush lips. They’re even more plump now, swollen from the many nips you’ve given them.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you murmur, “because that was a pretty corny line.”

“Not a line. The truth,” he replies huskily, kissing your fingertip. “But excuse me, I thought you said you loved me? Not liked me.”

“Ugh, of course the linguistics major would argue semantics.” Will you ever tire of that ridiculous laugh? “I love you, you nerd.”

“You know I love you too, right?”

Joy sings in your chest, spreads through your body. “I was hoping, but you didn’t actually say it….”

“Every day for three years.”

He beams as you look at him skeptically.

“All three years? Every single minute?”

“Yep. Every moment.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him with a raised brow.

“You want me to go get my other photo boxes? This one’s just junior year.”

You weren’t expecting him to back up that claim with photographic proof. You were just trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Say it again,” you command, lips crashing into his. “Please. Again.”

“I love you,” he declares, laying you down. “I love you.” He settles himself on top of you. “I love you.” He nuzzles your lips, your cheek, your neck. On and on, covering you in burning kisses and softly murmured words.

You push him away for a moment, long enough to pull your top off and toss it onto the floor. He sucks in a breath as you unhook your bra and drop it as well.

“Goddamn. Would you look at those,” he marvels. Your head drops back as you laugh. He’s the most attractive man you’ve ever met, sure, but he’s also the biggest dork.

“Do you want to touch them?”

He nods enthusiastically, and you lie back on your pillows, motioning for him to follow. He does so hungrily, mouth immediately sucking one of your nipples in. You keen as his tongue flicks over the tiny bud, waking it up. His hands join his mouth in caressing every inch he can touch.

“Jin,” you sigh, clutching at the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him back up so you can kiss him. He obliges, but then he’s gone again, lips tracing down your clavicle and running over your other breast. He lavishes both with attention until you’re breathless with want. With need.

His hand plays with the top button on your jeans. “Can these come off?” he asks, eyes round as he peers at you. As if he needs puppy dog eyes right now.

You nod, and he wastes no time undoing the buttons and sliding them down your legs. Then he reaches behind his head and yanks his hoodie off, taking the t-shirt underneath with it. You’d love to tease him about his eagerness, but it would be hypocritical of you, and besides, you’re too busy gawking at his bare chest. His baggy clothes hide the way his broad shoulders taper down to his waist, where the band of his Calvin Klein boxers rides above his sweatpants.

He slides back up your body to kiss you again. This time he lingers, and as his arms come to rest on either side of your head, he rolls his hips into you and you can feel how much he wants this, too. His hard length presses against your core and you whimper into his mouth, running your hands down his chest.

“Jin!” He repeats the movement, your hips lifting to meet his. His hand snakes between you and he slides a finger under the band of your panties.

“Can these come off, too?”

“God yes!”

With a laugh at your zealous response, Jin removes the last bit of clothing you wear. You laid your heart bare before him earlier, and now the rest of you is exposed, too.

His lips hover over yours as his fingers hover above your clit. He slowly draws a circle around the sensitive pearl as he swallows your moan.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps, and as you nod, his finger plunges inside.

You’ve always admired Jin’s hands. Those long, slightly crooked fingers move adroitly when he’s playing with his camera or typing on his keyboard. But right now, his lithe fingers are simply pure magic, stroking, rubbing, dipping in and out. You’re spellbound, your kisses getting sloppier as you pant and groan against Jin’s lips.

“Oh god, don’t you dare stop!” you demand, eyes closing in bliss. One of your hands tangles in your bedspread, pulling the blanket up as you grip at it, while the other curls around his bicep, holding on tight.

“I won’t. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming all over me.” Jin’s voice breathes in your ear. You shudder, from the heat, the touch of his lips, the filthy promise. You’ve never heard him use that word before. It sounds so good on his tongue.

“T-tell me,” you moan. Opening your eyes, you see Jin watching you with an expression of lust that makes you clench around his fingers involuntarily, and he draws a shaky breath. He grinds his hips into the bed and you whine at the sight.

“Tell you what?” He drops his head to your neck, sucking gently, painting your neck with red marks that will fade to black and blue by morning.

“What you w-wanna do. To me.”

He lifts his head in surprise. “You like that?”

Other guys had tried talking dirty with you before and you’d played along, but it had never done a damn thing for you. Not until this moment.

“Yeah. Wanna hear you. Tell me what you wanna do to me, Jinnie,” you beg, voice breathless and sweet, and he groans, capturing your mouth in a harsh kiss before pulling away again.

“Fuck, I wanna do everything to you. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” You mewl loudly, helplessly, at that last word, and he drags his thumb over your clit, agonizingly slow. Keening, you try to encourage him to speed up by bucking your hips towards him. “Oh, you wanna cum on my cock? How do you want it - deep and slow?” He starts to pump his fingers fast, and your whole body feels tight tight tight, like you’re about to snap. “Or fast and hard? Is that better? Throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you senseless?”

“Ahhhhh, I want it all, please give it to me, please please pl- “ Your voice breaks as your body breaks, comes apart in Jin’s deft hands. You feel his hips bucking into the bed and then he hisses, burying his face in the valley of your breasts.

“Did - did you just - “

“Yeah,” he groans, voice muffled. “I just came in my pants like a fucking teenager.” He lifts his head, looking sheepish. You laugh, affectionately, amazed at how he can be so sexy but so cute at the same time, heart overflowing as he rolls behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“So,” you drawl after a few minutes of content snuggling, “about those things you said you want to do to me…”

“Yeah?”

“...are you waiting for a formal invitation, or…” You grind your ass against him and he tightens his arms around your waist, huffing a laugh into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna need some dinner first.” He nibbles on your shoulder. “Let’s take a break. We’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow. Every day after that.”

You twist in his arms. “Every day?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.” His gaze is so warm. It’s incredible that you never realized that look in his eyes was the look of love.

“I love you, Jin.”

“I love you too.” He grins. “Now... how about that takeout?”

© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 9.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader  au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov  words; 12,456

warnings for this chapter (!) Jungkook could flirt with a wall, jealous Seokjin x2, subtle touches, kisses, Oc has Horny Thoughts, way too many thoughts of straddling him – is it hormones or just Seokjin?, a 12-week prenatal appointment, minor weight mentions e.g. hips expanding, boobs getting bigger, Yoonjin interactions, drunk Seokjin, Yoongi the taxi driver 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’ 

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⤑ 9 months to fall in love extras.

#2 Seokjin leaves

kim seokjin x f reader includes; allusions to a panic attack words; 1,386

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