NAKED: Jeon Jungkook


The week passed pretty rapidly.

You tried your best to be out of the apartment most of the time since you just couldn’t handle all the moans.

Yes sweetie.


And grunts.

And groans.

-from the other side of the wall of your room.

A.K.A Jungkook’s bedroom.

It started the next day after the sleepwalking incident, around 7 in the evening.

You were laying on your bed scrolling on your phone, reading other people’s life problems that they would post as status on their social media account as if by doing so would lessen the burden.

That’s not even half of the problem you have right now.

You never actually understand why people did that.

Why would they post something so personal like that and wait for someone to sympathize with them as if that care from others was actually genuine.

They would only say encouraging words because other people could see it.

But you bet if these same people would see a beggar on the the street asking for food or money, they would just simply pass by them or look sadly, but they would not help.

That’s the problem with the society.

That’s the problem with us.

Looking and saying something like, ‘What a pity, I want to help,’ is different from not saying anything at all but actually giving a helping hand.

You were so deep on your thoughts when you suddenly heard a low grunting sound near you.

You put your phone down, looked around your surroundings, paying close attention to every corner of the room.

Is there an animal in here?


There it is again.

It sounded like it’s coming from-

You pressed your ear against the wall where the headboard of your bed was against to.

“Agh. F-f*ck.”

You threw your hand to your mouth preventing the loud gasp that just escaped your throat.

Is he?

Jerking off?

Again, you listened, pressing your ear on the thin wall once again.

You had to made sure of course. Duh.

And you could actually hear his fast breathing, and low groans which was kinda hot-

Not at all hot.

Damn it!

The heck is this wall so thin?

You fished out your earphones from your bag and put on Kansas’ “Carry On My Wayward Son”.



The thought of ghosts and demons from the TV series was suddenly more comforting than the much scarier scene in the bedroom next to you.

You tried your best to sleep early that night.


Being an art major.

Painting class was of course your favorite.

Since you’re already on the higher year when you transferred, you had to put up where you left off.

Meaning, harder painting subjects.

You sat on the middle of the class, canvas board in front, painting tools at hand.

It was your first day so you didn’t know anyone. And you’re planning on staying that way until you graduate.

You didn’t want anyone to meddle with your life anymore.

To get hurt by the people you trusted.

You were focused on your painting materials, placing them carefully where they should be when suddenly a chorus of gasps, murmurs, giggles, and squeaks-especially from the girls- echoed inside the classroom.

What now?

You rolled your eyes looking in front, peeking from behind of your canvas board just in time for an overly handsome man to enter the room.

He was only wearing a white robe and his back was on the class.

That back somewhat looked familiar.

You bit your lips, thinking hard where you could have seen that back-

-until the man turned around landing his eyes directly at you.

His eyes where dark as the night, and his lips were as red as cherries while he curved them into a seductive smirk before he let down the only fabric that was covering his body.

Your eyes was about to pop out of your skull while you choke on your own saliva.


There stood Jeon Jungkook, nude in front of you.

“Today’s class. Nude painting,” your professor suddenly blurted out of nowhere.


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