Please Don't Change

[513/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

glitches can't stop a diva 💫

LIKE "please baby, calm down."

ok, whatever you say fr

i know lie and house of cards are meaningful and supposed to be deep and reflective, BUT THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUNTY FOR WHAT.

Block @joonwater, the person who's harassing authors by accusing them of using chat gpt and cheating. I dont want your this acc flooded with hate too.

i do not want to accuse anyone here without solid proof, but if i ever get such a whiplash of hateful and baseless anons in my inbox, (if you’ve been w me in koofleur you know what happened)— it will be undoubtedly blocked. (as you might know, anons can be blocked without their usernames being revealed).

i will continue to keep my internet space healthy and safe for all, and expect the same in return.

thank you for looking out for my acc though <3

new theme 😛 pretty as always

THANK YEW QUEEN

shades of you ★ jjk

gguk's ficbook

brief: helping you from getting caught by the cops starring: roommate!jk x f!reader tags/warnings: mentions of graffiti art, reader is sort of a rebel (she's got reasons), jungkook is lowk sus note: clearing my drafts and blurbs before i venture further! tbh it's been long, tiring and exhausting in here— but i love writing too much to let go <3

A dark brown leather, but worn out jacket hung over your shoulders, slumping due to the weight of the bag full of potential tools you had in them, the night washed over the sky, a few dimly lit, flickering street lights were the only form of brightness in your life.

literally. 

Kicking and rolling the few stones that lay unattended on the floors of the walkway, your eyes slowly lift up from gazing at the rocks, and fix them on the few clean and ready to be done walls sprawled out, as if it is welcoming you.

Stopping on your tracks, the sound of the bag being practically thrown on the ground stinged your ears because of the metal bottles of spray paint in them. 

Yes, those were your tools of comfort, the very ones that help you decorate the walls with talent. Your uni didn’t necessarily invite you in for the innumerable art competitions, even if you wanted to, let’s just say because you weren’t very reputable around.

To unpack the happenings from the timeline of your transfer to the new uni from your hometown — from where you were terminated during a collective campaign you launched with a couple of friends against the corrupted management system— the natural looks of loathe you got in the new school wasn’t exactly unfathomable. 

It was inevitable, you knew you wouldn’t be accepted in the right way anymore.

Exactly why now, you stood here in the utmost dingiest part of the alley with the shadiest surroundings— it was the typical place that screamed “unsafe”, but you still felt nothing but pure bliss when you shook the spray can, the light tapping sound reverberating through the atmosphere which was devoid of noise except the occasional chirp of crickets, as your hands moved freely with the strokes that accentuated liberty through art.

Ironically enough, it was something you were deprived of, all your life while fighting for it. 

Getting yourself enrolled in college again was the last thing on your mind, resorting to certain small jobs, but you had the will to live and fight your way along, against injustice. That landed you where you currently pursued studies at, and with a few connections, you managed to find housing right next to college.

It wasn’t anything big— but could call it home. It soon became one for two, as your hunt for a roommate rested when ultimately, Jeon Jungkook, a timid freshman started lodging with you.

You’d usually walk into the house after college and see him sprawled on the sofa, reading. Then you’d get out for some fresh air into the balcony, and there he’d be being an ever know avid reader, again.

And like that, you just decided to keep yourself away from him, so that you wouldn’t become a scar to his peace; a blemish.

Occasional greetings and fleeting moments in the kitchen whenever the two of you grabbed morning cereal or late night snacks were common, but apart from that he was just a regular compsci major.

The one who you were intrigued by.

Your thoughts are occupied with him, while you brush on the wall with the spray paint. Mindlessly, your hands, merged with the rhythm of your mind, stroked “田柾國”  onto the surface of the wall.

You were a Korean culture enthusiast, and thus mastered Hanja, a traditional writing system that consists of Chinese characters. A small chuckle escaped and melted into the air, as you suddenly snapped out of the daze.

Painting was your only escape, but you weren’t one who frequently zoned out while working.

“Shit- Did I just write his name in Hanja..” You mumbled those words contradicting the look of pure amusement in your face.

As you were about to paint more graffiti onto the wall, a faint noise of a siren, possibly of the cop vans, echoed vividly, around the empty alley like an alarm, a warning.

Your ears perked and the thought of getting into trouble electrified your spine like it usually doesn't and pieces of fear pricked into your head wounding your previously soft thoughts.

If you get caught, you will definitely be expelled again. Been through it once, but this time it’s different with Jungkook involved.

You somehow grew attached, and don't want to cease being his one and only roommate.

A warm fuzzy feeling coursed through you.

Beep. Wrong timing.

You were in the middle of fucking running away from cops.

Get your shit together, ___.

Hurriedly, you carelessly stuffed the supplies into the backpack and rushed with folding up the ladder you stood in, putting it aside to clear off any traces of your presence. T

he sirens grew closer and closer as your breath hitched seeing the vans pull up, the headlights illuminating the streets.

This was it. You were about to get caught.

But just as the cops were surrounding the place where you beautifully painted the graffiti on, a pair of hands swiftly scooped you into the nothingness of the small walkway behind the walls and in no time, the person, whoever it was, connected their foreheads with yours, in an attempt to look like you both were just mere couples minding their own business.

A torch light glimmered through the alley and into the small pathway behind and immediately retracted.

Cops were out of sight, but still the man had himself attached to you, his hands tenderly gripping your waist in a ring, his breath fanning over your face.

You were slow to notice the flavor of mint Jungkook timidly asks you to buy whenever you go out—the one smell that makes your heart tumble in an approximately infinite number of somersaults—filling your senses.

“Jungkook?” You cautiously whispered, his face too close to yours to let you breathe. 

“You’re one little troublesome thing aren’t you?” Now that’s not the Jungkook you know. His voice seemed deeper than the galaxies his eyes held. 

“I was just doing what I like.” You shrugged off, just like you weren’t standing wide eyed with a racing heart.

“Same.” He whispered before holding your jaw and diving in, bringing back your lips in his as you were utterly shocked, but your senses kissed him back, with the same passion. He walked backwards, out into the street where the wall stood, his name in Hanja shone brighter than ever, in the moonlight.

Pulling out, he rested his forehead on yours again, but you walked off towards the broken switches that controlled the flimsy bulb that hung over on the most dark alleyway and turned them up, the lights going out as the both of you were illuminated with just the dim moonlight, which seemed to disappear into the clouds, as if they were sucked in its vortex.

“Who are you?”

A question for a question.

As the night entangles its beauty into the walls that lay bare in front of your vision, you watch the letters in hanja, your art piece slowly disappearing from sight.

NO ONE, BUT YOU ⋆ 전정국

. . . . KISS ME, dangerous. been so lost without you all around me . . .

pairing, jungkook x model f!reader tags/warnings, little suggestive/allusion to smut, fwb2l, not too plot heavy js vibes lol note, slightly edited version of one of my drafts while i work on other longer wips <3 taglist, @ggukivrse @bangatanily | click here to join taglist! love diaries music rec, "Shirt"— SZA

feedback is appreciated! xx

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Hold my hand in secret and kiss me when no one's looking."

Eyes skimming around the sky now felt like a burden, you just wanted to give up and collapse, finally, onto the couch or the ground would even do— for how you felt like a human wrapped in a cyclone, world feeling dizzy as fuck.

There behind, as the only source of light apart from the moon ablaze —an otherwise fluttering sight to drink in, if it weren't for the current scenario— lay your phone, chats blowing up like gushing water following a drought.

Him, Jungkook, is your best friend but with benefits. A mutual help was what you agreed upon but eventually it became really hard for your heart to continue to bottle up the feelings growing in, with each touch, each caress and each contact. Skin to skin.

Walking up towards the little table across the balcony, you pick up your phone, scanning the texts you just received from Jungkook. How he portrayed all the words, you couldn't believe he was feeling so. 

Reciprocated. 

Your love was bound back in all means from his fucking heart. Jeon Jungkook's heart. 

Days ago, you were shattered by what he asked for, after you had your timbers shivering and knees clamping in all seriousness of the confession he presented before you.

Everything seemed to wash into your mind all at once, making things twice as hard. Tossing the gadget away, landing safe on the couch, his chat was still open. You took yourself into your well-kept bedroom, for a cup of water so that every piece of information, each adversity and ecstasy would sink in thoroughly.

"Hold my hand in secret and kiss me when no one's looking."

These couple of words echoed to and fro inside your tight heart, remembering when this was part of the "contract" / help you were lending to each other. He needed you, but was scared of society. A shit ton of insecurities ate him up alive each time, when he thought about how he'll be judged to be "using" you, the daughter of a revered model in South Korea. 

But all you know is, you love him for good. You'd never regret being his friend and now, someone he loves. Society has clamped a huge pressuring weight on each one’s shoulder. Sometimes it is the constant nagging to remain perfect. Sometimes it's how you're not perfect / likable. 

You don't give two hoots about the media, your "famous" family and your friends who go blind at shiny things. You'd gave no fucks about big and bold in the community. If you got the chance now, like right now, it'll be you on one knee with an imperfectly perfect paper ring, proposing to someone who already has your heart wrapped around in his strong fists. 

"Oh, Jeon. You make me fucking crazy." You whisper, now, admiring the sky feels less a burden, that heart of yours somehow eased into peace.

She flipped, landed and spun in circles every time he touched you. Everytime his fingers came in contact with the one tiny tattoo resting on top of the skin right next to your sternum. Everytime he kissed you there and traced it with his tongue.

Funny how you address your heart as if it was a person, right? It is. Now, she has safely landed upon something, hilarious much, again how she found peace, her world in the chaos.

"Can I take her for a ride then?" You jumped at the sudden cameo of a familiar raspy voice. Yes. That's it. It's the very voice you longed to hear, even after all the confusion and frustration. 

"Jungkook.." Oh. So you've been thinking out loud. Not embarrassing at all.

"Are you gonna let me in or should I stay hanging on your balcony?" He tightens the grip around the railing, trying to stay intact.

"Shit, sorry." You finally move, grabbing his wrists, surely not helping much as he pulls up and jumps over, hands landing taut around your waist as soon as he's on ground-level.

His eyes roam around yours, spewing a thousand words through its gaze.

And her. Your heart.

She was absolutely down. Damn much.

Toppling over and crash landing in the walls trying to break out and finally run into his heart.

"Calm down you stupid little organ. I'm not affected. No, not one bit." 

You ironically smiled at him, as he raised a brow at you. Amusement written across his annoyingly good looking face.

"Stop."

"You're making me feel, Han." He spat, fierce and quiet.

"Stop this, or I might lose myself. And I'm fucking not taking myself back. Ever."

You exhaled, the anxiety slowly waving goodbye. He's playing.

"Is that so? Then hold my hand and make me yours as the world witnesses us, Jungkook. I know for a fact that nothing can change now. It’s now, or never." Both of you were deprived. It's been days since you saw him after the controversy that arose along with a few pictures of you spending time with him, all around social media.

It immediately sent your mind to overdrive, already seeing an end to the 6 month long arrangement.

But more than that, the years long friendship you shared with this man standing in front of you.

However, his eyes swam over yours, alerting you that he doesn't give a fuck. None about the media, none about your background.

He scoffs, leaning in. "The problem is,," 

He does that, for the first time in ages. He holds your chin to face him, like he used to do, back then. Now there's different emotions mixed in, with all the lust.

Love. 

"If I kissed you, now and here, I'd not be able to stop. Don't fucking expect me to."

And there, his lips fall on yours, like a missing puzzle, skin hot against each other as he eventually picks you up in the process, and puts you down, towering over once again.

The gates of hell opened once more, as he pressed open mouthed kisses next to the v-line of your body-con, on the tattoo.

He wanted your body, pressed up against his heart.  Your hands, spreading his thoughts. Gripping your love, hope and desires, cupping them with nothing but passion. Fire. You felt his soul breathing heavily against your collarbones. You felt him nibble all the un uttered thoughts onto your ears. His hopes, naked on your skin. You needed each other. In a way unexplainable for eternities to come.

main page loading . . . legend : f - fluff, a- angst, s- smut

 𐙚˙✧˖° ONESHOTS : [ style - short ]

way back home ; in which ceo husband!jk surprises you [f] shades of you ; in which roommate!jk saves you from cops [f,a] reflection ; in which you graduate together [f] learn you ; in which he learns you, in a way no other can. it's the intimacy of being understood. of having fate bring you together, and you hold on for eternity. [f, a, s]

 𐙚˙✧˖° ONESHOTS : [ style - longer ]

back to you ; teaser drummer!jk x rich f!reader [a, f, s] nin's nuances 🍪 | [uarmygguk's fav moments : tbr after the fic if you'd like !]

once again under the mistletoe ; prince!jk x princess!oc [f,a]

 𐙚˙✧˖° SERIES :

please don’t change | genre : written dental surgeon!jk x intern/med student f!reader, fluff, smut (?), angst (trifecta again), situationship au

miles from home | genre : surfer!jk x f!reader [a,f, s]

 𐙚˙✧˖° tags : #gguk's ficbook, #fic: back to you, #nin’s notes 🗒️, #anon ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ, #nin's nuances 🍪, #fic: please don’t change, #nin’s musings 🌻

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— uarmygguk ‘25