pairing: reader x bts
genre: literally everything, college!au, fuckboy!bts, asshole!namjoon
warnings: cheating, slutshaming, alcohol, virgin shaming?, angsty, namjoon is rude as, fuckboys
author: admin m
Min Yoongi wasn’t your type, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. He lacked worry, he lacked care, and most of all, he lacked an appreciation for loyalty in relationships. Ah yes, the last year of college and he was still a fuckboy. His black hair and soft smile drew girls in, ridiculously so. Didn’t fool you, though. Nothing could draw you into such a slimy, cheating man.
So, when you did find the one, it was of course, the man on a complete different spectrum than Yoongi. Kim Namjoon swept you off your feet with the charms of a charismatic salesman- the less annoying, pushy kind, of course. He had made the last year of college bearable, and the friendship you had forged trickled into a romantic escapade, filled with gifts and flowers. Namjoon cherished you, made you feel like the most adored princess.
Curtains blocked the sun from your eyes as you rested upon your single bed, listening to your beloved roommate Lisa complete her attack on her boyfriend’s sex techniques. Too much tongue? Didn’t let her cum enough? You weren’t sure which one it was. Being a virgin yourself, you often felt out of touch with her when she discussed her sexual rendezvous. You hadnt gone further than the handy you had given Lee Jihoon in grade nine behind the bleachers. He hadn’t even came, tucked himself back in his pants still hard and running away shyly. Good times. A sudden silence and Lisa slipping beside you on the bed pulled you from your memories. “Y/N, look at this, and breathe, okay, gorgeous?” You cocked an eyebrow as she passed you her phone, open on a random girl’s instagram. She carefully clicked the story feature. God, time couldn’t have passed slower. The latest update on her story was her grinding against your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon himself. He was chuckling, gripping her thighs, as his friends cheered him on. (You recognised the voices of Jungkook, Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin, and lastly, Yoongi.) Yoongi’s presence was noted due to the fact Namjoon had hidden you from the older man in fear of him coaxing you with his fuckboyish ways. Hypocritical, you thought bitterly. The video quickly disappeared, and so did every thread of trust you had in your body. “Y/N, babe, it’s okay, okay? He was an asshole..” You nodded numbly, turning over with a huff. Options played through your mind quickly. Ignore or confront. Ignoring seemed easy, bitter, harsh. Exactly like his actions. Good.
Every night since that stupid day was the same. Drinking, crying, and most importantly, ignoring Namjoon. Classes were a blur, mixing with the smell of vodka and lack of hygiene. Namjoon was studying literature, unlike you, who was studying psychology, so luckily, you avoided him during class time. Every attempt of contact was shunned, leaving him clueless.
It was a Friday, and so far, you were doing okay. You had managed to sober up somewhat- defensive when Lisa claimed the clear liquid in your waterbottle was definitely not water, because, okay, maybe it was vodka, but also, it tasted bitter and burnt your throat and made you feel alive so who gives a flying fuck? You were prepared for a weekend of sleep, Lisa reminding you all week she would be at her boyfriend, Minghao’s, and for gods sake, Y/N, take a shower. The final lecture ended, and you scooted out, making your way towards your dorm. It was a brisk walk, but long enough to be stopped in your tracks by six familiar, smirking boys. Park Jimin, pretty with pink hair and a cardigan. Kim Taehyung; a tall, slim brunette with a killer jawline and boxy grin. Jung Hoseok, radiant skin splashing against his black hair, a contrast that never failed to confuse you. Jeon Jungkook, a freshman who had weaved his way into the fuckboy orgy with his boyish good looks and athleticism. Kim Seokjin, the broad shouldered gentleman who Namjoon told you had broken more hearts than he had fingers. And finally, Min Yoongi, a ghostly looking man whose raven hair matched whatever heart he had locked up in his chest. You’d attended high school with them all, excluding Jungkook, and knew them well. They were typical fuckboys, just like Namjoon had turned out to be. The group had avoided you most of your high school career, especially Namjoon, until the start of the previous year, when they’d suddenly flocked you like a moth to a flame. In this case, you almost believed they were the flame. They had known your boyfriend had been cheating yet couldnt be fucked saying a single word. Maybe they knew you were too naive, maybe they wanted to hurt you. Or maybe, just maybe, the relationship was simply a game, entertainment for the seven men. They eyed you curiously, taking in your appearance. Your usual preppy, prim and proper clothes had been disregarded for leggings and a slouch sweater, hair in a messy bun that showcased your exhausted face. Stress acne littered your skin and quite honestly, you looked a hot mess, minus the hot, and probably minus the mess too, because it was far worse than that. Jungkook was the first to speak, whistling low. “I must say, Y/N, after what I’ve heard about you, I wouldn’t expect to see this. Avoiding Joon so you can what, get drunk and slut around? Smells like it, anyway.” You felt fury build in your veins. Stupid fucking fuckboys. “Cat got your tongue, Y/N, or is what Namjoon suspects correct, and your mouth is swollen from sucking too much dick?” Hoseok’s bitter words made you sick.
“He cheated on me.” The boys looked at you, confused. “Louder, sweetheart. Not all of us are accustomed to your cutesy silent shit.” You snapped. “He fucking cheated on me, you fucking dicks. He went and grinded against that girl, he went and did that shit. All the while I am in the dark about it all. Not a simple, ‘hey, Y/N, your boyfriend of almost a year is sleeping with some random girl off campus,’ no, of course not. You had your fun, didnt you? Messing with the quiet kid in your classes, poor little naive Y/N. Fuck off, don’t come near me again.” You spat, glaring up at each of them. Their expressions softened, smirks dropping. “Listen, Y/N, we’re sorr-” you shook your head, cutting Taehyung off. “Oh, and tell your stupid little gang leader that the next time we talk will be the last. I want you all out of my life.” And with that, you left the six boys, abandoning whatever streak of calm you had left.
Arriving back at your dorm, you sat at your desk, sobbing quietly. The pictures you had of you and your friends and Namjoon were thrown everywhere as you held back the urge to throw up. Everything was fucked. Your pity party was drawn to a close when a knock on the door sounded, and without hesitation, you swung the door open. Behind it stood Kim Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, with his soft silver hair and oversized glasses. Kim Namjoon with his big thrasher hoodie and tight jeans and big hands that you yearned to feel on your skin. Kim Namjoon who had disregarded every moment you two shared. Kim Namjoon who had fucked everything up. You grunted, shaking your head. He gazed at you sadly. “Please let me explain, please, I just, I was horny and-” you waved a hand in frustration. “So you decided to be a manwhore and cheat on me when you could’ve easily come to me, you know I would’ve done whatever to make you happy.” You muttered, shutting your eyes. He nodded, moving closer to you, attempting to grip your hips in his large palms. You pushed him away. Namjoon stood back, waiting for more. “Why? Why didn’t you just come to me, instead of whoring around and cheating on me-” He cut you off, anger evident as he slammed a fist against the doorframe. “Nobody wants a fucking frigid virgin to fuck, Y/N!” Your heart dropped, mouth forming a tight ‘o.’ He realised his mistake, tripping over himself, his words jumbling out a frantic apology. You stopped it, smiling sharply at him. “You’re right, Kim Namjoon. No one wants a frigid virgin.” And with that, you slammed the door on him, locking it and crawling into your bed.