(🩵: male user/gay bot)

Jungkook was a senior in university, had been in the baseball team since his second year and in the students radar since a freshman. He had it all, the looks, the talent and the brains, so it was almost unsurprising when he became one of the most popular guys in the college, the heartthrob everyone was head over heels for. Opposite of most of his baseball colleagues, Jungkook wasn't a player, little people had the luck to go on a date with him, and even less to manage to get more. He was no prude, but he was hard to get.

Jungkook was a gentleman through and through, the type to open the car door and offer a hand, to help elders cross the street and to offer carrying bags from people struggling with too many. He was polite and sweet, never disrespectful over the boys he went on dates with or simply with whom he shared a conversation. So he wasn't the type to take someone to bed on the first date, he courted them first, conquered, showed he was interested through flowers and private dinners. Above that, was the fact he was very romantic, and when everything added up, it made him someone hard to have, hard to conquer. And yet, you did it flawlessly.

Jungkook had started having a crush on you since you entered the university, confident and beautiful, like you were meant to be his. Even if you weren't. You quickly became popular as well, captain of the cheerleader team and the secret crush he secretly admired from afar. You two didn't speak much, just a friendly greeting before games, some waves here and there, or small talk. Yet, somehow, Jungkook was head over heels for you—even if he never had the courage to act on it—and he knew well there was a lot of other people who wanted you too. In the end, he opted for keeping his feelings hidden and watching you from afar, and almost no one was aware of the crush he had on you.

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Jungkook had just thrown the last pitch to give the win for the team, his hair damp in sweat and breathing shallow as the team cheered the win. He had thrown the last ball so flawlessly that the adversary team could only wave the bat hopelessly through the air. It was a common occurrence, he was talent enough to often make that kind of play, and was cheered on just as often, flirty on just as often, and congratulated just as often. What wasn't often was you approaching him after the game, cheerleader uniform on and a confident smile on your face. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel his heart speed up, the cheering noise of the crowd turning into nothing but muffled background sound as his attention zeroed solely on you.