#(jk he takes it in stride later)

[ariadne-mouse]

Essek when he walks in and gets the first whiff that Bell's Hells are Like That and he suggests waiting outside. Domade persona, or 'oh god not again i need a minute'? Whichever is funniest

#'please not another growth arc i am good for a couple decades' #(jk he takes it in stride later) #critical role #cr spoilers #op #c3 #essek thelyss #c3e94

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee 04 | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk, dom!jk.

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: choking, humiliating (kinda idk), close proximity, cursing, miscommunication.

• WC: 2.1K aprox. (she's a little baby)

• taglist form

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A single tear runs down your cheek.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You've never cried over a guy. Is that going to change now?

Possibly.

Jungkook has already left for work at about 9:00, leaving you to your thoughts. He said you're due to show up at his office at 12:00, considering him being free for the day. He claims he needs to use his rare vacant hours to talk you over the basic dos and don’ts of working for him.

You agreed, acting like you've met him two days ago over a work interview.

“Y/N, I went to a gentlemen’s club yesterday.”

You run his words on repeat in your mind, like a jammed tape that's just running through your head. His voice refuses to back down, growing louder at your conscience. He's basically screaming the sentence at you now, overwhelming you.

“A strip club.”

Shit.

Another tear escapes.

In all honesty, you have no idea how to feel. One minute you’re fuming at how he didn’t care enough to show up to dinner yesterday, and the other you’re miserable; because you don’t want to be mad at him.

Every time your feelings are brought to the matter, you spiral. You truly don’t know how to feel. You want to understand him, but you’d be tossing your pride in the trash for you to forgive him for what he did. It was a mistake, you know how badly he knows he’s fucked up, but you still haven’t heard an apology. All it takes is one fucking apology, just good enough to show he cares.

You blocked your feelings out and wore a cold mask, in disguise of your true emotions. You expected him to be mad at that reaction, because you basically gave him nothing to work with, but he reciprocated it. He’s playing your game. Now, you’re going to play his.

You look at your reflection, wiping away at the stray tears of utter confusion. You plaster a satisfied smile as you appreciate the effort you put into the outfit you’re wearing.

You’re wearing a mini-dress.

In basic work attire ethics, wearing a mini-dress to work is inappropriate. It’s the epitome of unprofessionalism, and you’re wearing it purely to provoke Jungkook. He said you’re going to start working for him, but the poor man doesn’t know how you operate.

He’s giving you the secretary job only to show you who holds the true power, thinking it’s him who does.

He’s so gullible to think you can simply agree to work for him.

Soon, when you’re married to Mr. Jeon and you’re officially declared as his wife, you’re also officially a partner of the company. The company of which HG and Jeon Agencies will merge to form. So, in actuality, you're soon due to be working with him.

If you wore a mini dress to work as Jungkook’s future wife, who will dare to speak a word about it?

An off-shoulder, tight black mini dress- at that.

•••

You strut through the company like it’s your own, endless gaping faces staring your way.

Your head is held high, your hips swaying with every step in such an authoritative manner. It’s impressive- to say the least- the amount of confidence you’re radiating through every stride.

As you enter the elevator, you catch a rather cute employee- the quirky type with glasses- staring at youwith her jaw to the floor. You make sure to send her a rather flirty wink just before the elevator doors close and you’re taken up to Mr. Jeon’s office. You catch a glimpse of her swooning over the action with rosy cheeks, a victorious smile pulling the corners of your lips up.

A couple of minutes later, you’re in front of the secretary’s desk, Yoona staring up at you in bewilderment.

You smile at her half-heartedly, getting straight to the point; “Is Mr. Jeon alone in his office? Does he have anyone scheduled to meet him anytime soon?” Your voice drips in professionalism, cutting straight to the point.

Yoona takes quite a bit of time before she stutters a semi-coherent answer. “U-uh n-no. He’s alone.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement as your don’t waste your time any more, heading for Jungkook’s office door.

You don’t knock. Why would you?

Holy heavens.

Jungkook is leaning back on his desk as if awaiting your arrival. He has a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand. The tie around his neck loosened as his suit’s blazer was forgotten on the couch.

He has 2 leather chairs on either side in front of his desk and a wide couch in the center, in addition to an aesthetic coffee table; seemingly creating a lounge in the middle of his office.

He has a couple buttons of his shirt undone, as the sleeves of it are rolled up on his forearms. His hair tousled like he’d run his hand through it a million times, which he does before he smirks. He tucks one of his hands in his trousers’ pocket, using the second to bring the glass up to his lips. He smirks through it at you, all the while maintaining eye contact between you two. His watch glints in the sun, grabbing your attention.

You've always had a thing for men and watches, and goddamn is it a weakness.

The sun rays shine through the tall floor to ceiling glass windows, illuminating his figure and complimenting its height and the lean muscle that hides beneath the sheer material of the shirt.

The sight knocks the breath right out of your lungs and skyrockets your heartbeat to over one hundred and ten per minute.

Whoa.

His eyes rack over your body, starting from your toes and making their way up to your head. He takes his time taking you in, a glint of lust- maybe even hunger- swirling in his chocolate eyes. He takes another sip of whiskey.

“Mr. Jeon.”

“Mrs. Jeon.”

The name escapes his lips in an amused manner.

What?

Last time you checked, you were still Ms. Y/L/N.

“Excuse you?” You raise a brow as you approach him. You place your purse on the couch, joining his blazer as you strut towards him, your head held high.

“You better get used to being addressed by that, Y/N.” He stays leaned back on the desk, speaking as if he has not a care in the world. “You are my future wife, after all.” He smirks.

God damn that smirk of his.

Oh how much you want to kiss it off his face.

You continue your stride toward him, betraying no emotion when your face stays neutral.

You stop right in front of him, only to take the glass from between his fingers and cradle it in yours. “I can still say no, you know.”

You shrug casually, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a tantalizingly slow sip. You make sure to drink from the side he had drunk from, licking your lips after you let the sensation of the alcohol burn your throat.

His expression stays unreadable, so you make sure he understands what you mean: “To the marriage. I still have an option.”

As you go to set the glass back on the desk where he’s leaned on, you almost stumble causing him to hold you by your hips. You straighten, your nose touching his in the process.

He leans in further, his lips brushing against yours as he looks into your eyes. It feels like he’s staring deeper into your soul, and the thought scares you.

What if he finds things better left untouched?

What if he reads in between the lines of your emotions?

“What makes you think I’d let you?” He whispers to you, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. His hands are still glued to your waist the same way they always are, driving you absolutely mad in every way possible.

“This isn’t very professional now, is it, Mr. Jeon?” You place your hands on his chest as you push him away, solely to put distance between the both of you. A rosy blush kisses your cheeks as his hands find their home on your waist again, only for him to pull you closer.

His tone turns cold, speaking as if he hates the thoughts of you running through his head.

“You think you’re slick, huh?” He chuckles, but it comes out rather evil than lighthearted. You almost flinch.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He stares deep into your eyes again, making your head swim. Your mind is too lost in his eyes to register the position you’re in. You don’t know what to do.

“Showing up to work in a mini-dress, Y/N?” His hand snakes up to rest on your jaw, but it’s a threat. It feels like a threat. You fail to move.

“That’s not very good now, is it?” He smiles, but it’s void of emotion. It’s scary. “Trying to provoke me?” His body is flush against yours now, with him no longer leaning against the desk, but handling your body in a way that makes it impossible for you to move; you don't even know if you want to. He’s taller than you- by far- his frame all too consuming the entirety of your thinking by towering over you.

His hand moves from your jaw to your neck, resting there. You struggle to appear unaffected, knowing very well how miserably you seem to be failing. The way he's looking at you almost seems like he's belittling you, making you doubt yourself every time you look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You breathe out a response, surprising yourself. Why does he have such a great effect on you?

“Playing dumb now, are we?” He coos, mocking you in the way he smiles. His dimple laughs at you.

The hand on your neck flexes, barely cutting off your air suply.

You stay rooted to your spot. Your mind is going in so many different directions that it makes it harder to stay focused. Not that you are- by any means- focused. Your breaths are turning more shallow by the minute, but you love it.

You trust Jungkook, and he knows you do.

You'd trust him with your life, no matter how mad you are at him.

He's sure of it.

“Hm?” His tone grows irritated at your lack of response, so you simply shake your head no- as much as his grip allows you to- at least.

“I already taught you how to use your words, Y/N.” You can’t breathe. Your heart beats in your throat and you just can’t- breathe.

But still, you push through. “Why would I want to provoke you?” You ask instead.

“Don’t you feel betrayed?” Jungkook looks at you now. Fully looks at you. No playfulness, no amusement whatsoever. His hand falls from your neck, coming to rest at your waist.

The question catches you off guard. Where did this suddenly come from?

“Aren’t you hurt?” His eyes turn to ones so deep in feeling, it sets you off. Is he talking about the prior night?

“About?” You mask the emotions struggling to stay veiled by trying to sound as calm as possible.

Don’t show weakness. Your mind screams at you, a desperate attempt to keep you collected.

Of course you feel betrayed. Of course, you feel hurt. How dare he ask when it’s him that’s causing you to feel this way in the first place. All you crave in this particular moment is to unleash. Unleash the anger you’ve been trying so hard to bottle in. Although you crave that from deep within your bones, you stay cool- calm.

All the haze from the earlier teasing dissipates into thin air, and you take the time to properly look at the man before you.

Jungkook looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. He has dark purplish eye bags under his currently heavy lidded eyes; the most beautiful ones you’ve ever been graced to see. Even in the exhaustion clearly evident in them, his eyes hold infinite depths of beauty. They captivate your whole being, leaving you intoxicated by their effect.

“I’m tired, Y/N.” He looks like he’s seconds away from collapsing. He’s angry again, his face fully expressing anger and frustration. But you have the right to be angry, too. Doesn't he think so?

You don’t give a shit if it means you’re being petty. You deserve an apology.

Your eyes squint in defiance at him, and you see his muscles tense further as a response to the action.

“You humiliated me.” You scoff, staring at him in disbelief. “You think you deserve the right to be fucking angry, Mr. Jeon?” You jab a finger to his chest.

The formality aims straight for his heart, while the coldness laced in your velvety voice stabs at it further. He stays silent, looks at the floor as his hands fall from your waist, only to hang helplessly on either side of his body. He clenches them into fists, only to unclench them right after. He repeats the action, in hopes of focusing on it instead of you. He doesn’t want to talk about it. About this. He’s thought about it too much, where it’s gotten him to a dead end. He doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t understand what he feels towards you; it’s a feeling that catches him off-guard.

A feeling he isn’t familiar with. A feeling nobody taught him how to deal with.

You jab a finger to his chest again, “Pick me up at 9, we’re going to the club you suggested the other day.”

Your tone comes out void of emotion- another stab to the heart. His eyes don’t betray the floor he appears to be so fascinated in.

You step away from him, turning away. Just like that, you’ve left the office, leaving Jungkook to drown in the confusion that’s slowly eating away at his mind- little by little, piece by piece.

Little did you know, Jungkook was angry at himself.

next

@hoseokteardrop @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring@bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @nochuel @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdoll @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime

#bumblebee #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jeon jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jungkook #enemies to lovers #bts fanfiction

[cherrygukkie]

Late Night Encounters| jjk

Summary: A student-athlete like you, who flies under the radar, never expected to become enemies with someone like Jeon Jungkook, an annoying talkative senior who goes out of his way to make your life a living hell. But what happens when your rivalry takes some twists and turns, and your hate turns into something else? Will getting too close to Jungkook reveal a side of him that you’ve never seen before?

Word Count: 5,2k

AN: Hey folks! This is something I came up with in the middle of the night, so I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I am currently planning all of this out! :) But yeah, I don't have anything else to say, but to enjoy this first snippet of Jk and OC's relationship. Love yah mwahh!!

Props to @dollfaceksj for beta-reading thank you <3

READ: (Pls comment and give feedback it's all welcomed. It'll help me stay motivated.)

Lmk if there are any errors please and thank you.

••••••••

Thursday, 7:03 a.m.

It’s early in the morning, and you know what that means…. School time!!!

Yay… school.

You’re currently at school, exhausted. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though. No matter how much sleep your body gets you still end up tired. At this point, you've accepted the fact that you’re a sleepy girl.

Putting on your beats, you turn the music volume to the max. Hopefully, music can give you a little energy and help you get through the day because you need it.

Surprisingly Yoongi or Taehyung weren't at school around this time. Usually, the three of you arrived at the same time, if something came up you’d receive a message from either one of them. They didn’t tell you yesterday or text you, so you check their location.

When you do it shows that they are on the road, moving in the same area. 

They were driving somewhere…

The direction they are going is further away from the school. You being curious, you took it upon yourself to see what’s up with them.

Letting out a yawn, you call Yoongi, and not even a second later, he declines.

What the fuck?

You decide to shoot Taehyung a message since they’re together and he responds…

You: um why aren’t you or Yoongi at school?

You: I see that you guys are driving and I feel left out.

Taehyung : Sorry Y/N. I was supposed to tell you, but It slipped my mind.

Yeah, just like how my foot is gonna slip up both their asses.

Taehyung: We got caught up in some last-minute shit.

•okay, but my question is still unanswered.

You: where are you guys going though???

Read.

Taehyung left you on read along with him being secretive about his location… that’s unusual and weird.

Extremely weird…

“Such shitheads for ditching me,” you mutter, shoving your phone in your pocket. Great… Now today is going to be the definition of boring without dumber and dumbest.

You open your locker, replacing your books with your skateboard. The bell is going to ring shortly, so you start walking to class. You slam your locker shut, striding down the halls with the volume of your headphones sounding out everything and everyone, just how you liked it.

Your face was frowned up until ETA by NewJeans came on. A smile creeps onto the corner of your mouth as angelic voices enter your ears and a flicker of amusement manages to lighten your mood.

“what’s your ETA!” “what’s your ETA!”

Just when your grumpy spirit is starting to lift, someone swoops in from the right, snatching your headphones off your ears. The music is gone and the little smile you grew shattered into a million pieces.

You freeze, taken back by his audacity. “You did not… just take my headphones.” 

You turn around to see the one and only, Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook who surprisingly wasn’t wearing his usual Calvin Klein attire. Instead, he had on a pair of distressed jeans with a soft blue zip-up jacket.

The way he has his jacket off his shoulder is so baby girl of him

Jungkook smirks, holding the headphones out of reach. “New Jeans? Really?” He could hear even while they were hanging above your head. That’s how loud the music was.

“Give it back!” you demand, through a big jump to retrieve your headphones. Each time you jumped, his hand went higher and higher. Jungkook enjoyed watching you struggle, especially if it’s because of him.

“You don’t seem like the type to listen to New Jeans,” he says, ignoring the fact that he’s holding your property. “They’re so uplifting and joyful… and you-” Jungkook pauses, eyeing you down. You could sense the insult coming.

You talk over him, not letting him finish. “Why are you doing this?”

It’s too early to play his stupid games. He couldn’t wait until Chemistry class? 

“Just doing my daily dose of annoying you.” He clicks his tongue, dangling the headphones with his index finger. 

“Well, congratulations, Jungkook. You’ve succeeded once again. Now give me back my headphones and leave me alone,” you demand again, reaching up only for him to hold them higher.

At this damn point, your arms are moving in the air desperately like a lunatic. This is taking place in the middle of the halls… in front of people. 

How fucking embarrassing is that?

ugh, I hope that people don’t think I’m a pushover now…

You raise your voice, walking up to Jungkook. “Give me my shit back!” 

The anger in your voice draws attention in the halls. Right after you speak, multiple eyes burn into your soul. You look around and people are staring at the both of you with concerned faces. Part of you wanted to tell them to mind their shit and keep it pushing, but you take a breath, taking a chill pill.

 “Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, bringing your hands together. “Can I have my beats back? They’re too expensive to be played around with.” You swallow all the bass in your tone.

“What’s the magic word?” Jungkook teases, exposing the dimple on his right cheek. Beasty, huh? you've never understood why he gave you such a nickname in the first place. Assuming it was an insult, you always ignored it.

Today wasn’t the day for his stupid games, he for sure wasn’t getting a please out of you.

You blink constantly, accepting your defeat. “You know what… I’m not doing this shit today. You can keep them, you jerk.” Walking away from Jungkook, you try to speed walk to class in need to get away from him. You’re already dealing with limbs that could barely function and heavy eyelids, you aren't in the mood to play.

Searching for peace didn't last how you wanted. Jungkook catches up with you, refusing to leave you alone. 

"Careful there or you'll drop your books."

You look over at Jungkook who was keeping up with your speed. “I hate you.”

A little laugh sneaks past his lips before speaking, “No, you don’t.”

He had the presence of a fly, no matter how much you shoo him away he always finds his way back.

Why do you despise him with a passion?

Why is Jeon Jungkook your nemesis?

The reason behind it is a story. It started when you ran into him on a chaotic evening at the worst moment possible, just when you thought the hole you were in couldn't get any deeper...it did.

*Flashback!*

4 months ago...

Friday evening, 7:37 p.m.

Stuck in the middle of traffic, you’re repeatedly hitting crazy turns, left, right, left, left, right, right, nonstop. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for missing the bus and being an irresponsible dumbass.

Yeah, it's true...you were late to a game. It's not all your fault, though. To be fair it was a last-minute one that the coach signed everyone up for. Earlier today, you had to stay after school to figure out some arrangements with your teachers for your grades. It was either that or nothing because bad grades equal no volleyball.

All work was uncompleted, besides Mrs. Parker's class. That was your favorite class and you had an A+, so you didn't have to visit her. You had to visit everyone else and it didn’t go as planned. Besides giving you an extension on the work, you were assigned a tutor for the next 2 months.

Your schedule was dedicated to volleyball, therefore you had no free days unless it was the weekend, and as much as you didn't want to sacrifice it, you had to.

Girl, your grades were crying.

You need to maintain them to keep volleyball in your life. Today was Saturday and you decided to start. It wasn't a problem because you had no plans at all… well that’s what you thought. 

You put your phone on do not disturb, just to concentrate, not to ignore anybody.

You just needed your mind to be fixated on school for once, not a ball, not a net, or a gym.

🏐🥊

During those long hours of catching up and studying you weren't aware of the messages in your group chat. You packed up all your things and you went directly to your messages to see 100+ texts from the group chat.

You open it thinking it's about the next practice or probably not expecting a message like this.

Coach [: "I'm sorry to spring this on you girls on such short notice, but I received an email from a coach from another district about playing against his team because apparently, the other team forfeited before the game.

Coach [: I agreed to it thinking maybe you girls could use the extra practice, you know? explore other teams and their ways of playing."

Coach [: "The school is far, so I recommend you gear up and be at the gym by school at 6:20 because the drive is longer than 30 minutes and we all need to ride the bus together, as a team."

Coach [: "There's no reason why any of you should be late because I'm texting you a couple of hours before, so please be on time okay you all know how I am about tardiness."

The more we are late the more we condition....

Coach [: "Okay, but that's all. I'll see you all in a bit, be ready!"

You take your phone off Do not disturb, then you exit the building, phone, and bag in hand checking your missed calls,

Reading that you had numerous missed calls from the coach, you call her and she answers immediately. The phone barely got through the first ring. You opened your mouth to speak, but her lecture overpowered you. "Y/N where the hell are you? the game is about to start!"

You're so stuck you couldn't give a proper answer so all you say is, "Huh?" the confusion in your response made her angrier.

"You are late Y/N! You were supposed to be on the bus an hour ago!"

Coach sent that message at 3:36 and when you checked the time it was 7:15 p.m. It was like glass shattering when your heart sank realizing you lost track of time. Your phone shook in your trembling hands, too stunned to speak.

It's been that long?!?

She tells you that the game has already started and that you need to be on your way now, especially with you being one of the main players you were needed no matter what, or the rotation would be switched.

It was still the beginning of the season, so people were only familiar with their positions. Having rotations changed and adjusted to something last minute during a game is a total mess. A rule in volleyball is if you were out of rotation they deduct points, and that was unacceptable.

"C-coach, I'm sorry-" you tried to sound sincere with a pounding heart and unsteady voice. "I'll get there as fast as possible." She ends the conversation by hanging up the phone.

Well goddamn.

Then and there you knew you were "Fucked." you muffled, in your hand. "I am so fucked...."

You start running as fast as you can and thankfully the dorms aren't too far from the school, so you arrive shortly. You swung the door open and rushed to your room not greeting your roommate, but that didn't matter.

She wasn't the nicest...

When you get in your room you start tossing things everywhere trying to find your jersey. That's what you get for misplacing important shit, that's what your mom would tell you after you'd lost something and it played in your mind on a loop.

At some point, you found everything and shoved it in your bag racing out the door to the parking lot. And there you are speeding recklessly in your car, slamming your fist on the horn honking at cars, cutting them off doing all you can to escape from this major traffic jam.

You weave through traffic pressing on the gas pedal, “Come the fuck on…” you yell, feeling your frustration build up. “Can these cars go any slower?!? I’m almost there!”

Why does everything go wrong on inconvenient days…?

Finally, you arrive at the stadium, and you pull into the parking lot and your eyes dart immediately to a good spot in between two cars surprisingly in front of the entrance. There were a shit ton of people here...

You turn the wheel parking your car thinking none of it, then suddenly there is this noise you heard. In the mise of hearing that sound, your whole car jolted back from the impact, even though it was the slightest tap.

Leaning forward a bit, you see the space you have in front of you and your jaw drops in disbelief. "Please no...." This could not be happening right now.... you're already in trouble for being an hour late and now you have to deal with this.

To fix your parking, you back out and properly pull in between the two cars. After, you take a moment to close your eyes and cross your fingers hoping that the damage wasn't too severe. Your pockets had flies coming out of them…. you couldn't afford to fix a damn car.

Let's pray that there was nothing there and you could move on with life, peacefully. You got out of the car to check yours first. It was in perfect condition and not a single mark was on it, maybe that was a sign of something good.

You rushed to the back of the black car to confirm that the crunching noise you heard was in fact the bumper that was dented up, terribly. The back of the vehicle even had scratches and the black paint was scraped off.

It was bad...

"Oh my god..." you mouthed nervously. The car did look fancy and highly expensive. It didn't take long for you to realize that the car you hit was a Mercedes-Benz, but not only that it was the newest version. "You've got to be fucking kidding me...." you screamed, burying your face in your palms.

How the hell were you going to pay for the damages on this car, a damn Mercedes?!? To be fair, you weren't poor, you just didn't have money like that, or you didn't have any on you. And bothering your parents with this rough situation was the last you wanted to do. They were already helping you pay for volleyball camp, so there was no need to shake them for more money.

Your hands found their way to your head gripping your hair, stressfully. "Ugh, I should've been on the damn bus!" you yell again, feeling stupid. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for the rookie mistake.

Too busy pacing back and forth and complaining you didn't notice that there wasn't a single soul in the car. By now someone would've come out to give you shit for hitting their vehicle.

You instantly got an idea.

And that idea was to walk away and pretend nothing happened.

Why not? nobody was outside, nobody saw you and nobody was inside the car meaning there's no proof of you hitting their car attempting to park.

That intense feeling wore off and your body relaxed a little. You look both ways before crossing the street.

Thank god, you didn't have to deal with a rich bitch or asshole who'd exaggerate the problem like the car was their child and make you pay more than you have to. You sigh, walking away, ready to enter the school and deal with the coach because that was next on the checklist.

You stuff your hands in your pockets, making your way towards the entrance, until you hear something. That something was the sound of a car door getting slammed violently.

"What the hell? are you fucking kidding me?!?" the mysterious man shouted. He sounded upset—a more fitting word, enraged. "Hey, you! black sweatshirt."

Yep, that was you. A girl in a black sweatshirt who was trying to ditch the situation.

"Hm?" you slowly turned around as if you were innocent.

Your guilty eyes met his deep brown cold ones. He looked very pissed right now. "Hm?" the mysterious boy mocked your act. "You fucked up my shit!" he pointed to the poor bumper.

You nibble on your lip, caught up and no he wasn't wrong that's exactly what you were going to do.

"What?” You fix your thick frames. "Dude, what are you talking about? I didn't fuck up anything. I was only walking out here getting fresh air, that's all..."

"Oh really?" He took a step closer moving under the moon. It was easier to make out the details. Soft dark curly long hair, muscular figure, piercings, tattoos.... a dangerous combination a guy could have.

Damn.

He wore a Calvin Klein denim jacket with a matching shirt and bold thick platformed boots. He looked like your typical bad boy or fuck boy, you choose. You’d never seen him before, ever.

You reacted, backing away from his unnecessary step. "Yes?"

"You are lying and you fucking suck at it.”

You tried flipping the script. “That’s what you think.”

“It’s what I know and now you’re starting to piss me off.”

"Okay, shit!" Your arms slap your sides, defeated. "I hit your car, okay? But it was a mistake. I was rushing to get to my game and I was going to leave because I needed to avoid this. After all, I'm already late and my coach is upset with me." Listening to you, his eyes were rolled to the back of his head, tired of hearing your sob story. "It was seriously an accident, I misjudged the distance between the cars," you continued. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?"

He was able to see that you were going through a tough time, but did he care? Hell no. He wasn't having any of that. For fucks sake, you hit his car and that's all he cared about, not some girl who's using being late as an excuse to recklessly drive.

“Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to get fixed?”

"No, I don't, but I do know that it's going to be pricey and trust me if I had the money I would pay for the expenses, but I don't have much money right now..."

"Oh, great. Miss careless driver not only hits my car, but she can't afford to fix it. Just what I fucking needed today."

You continued to apologize and reason with him, but he cut you off. "You expect me to accept your apology? That doesn't change the fact you hit my car. I could care less about a fucking apology right now.”

Now... it was bothering you a little. Despite the situation, this guy was being a dickhead.

Did you hit his car? Yes, you did and he has every right to be angry, but there should be some way that this can be resolved respectfully without being an asshole. And that's what he was doing, he's raising his voice, expecting you to stand there like a fool.

He had no idea who he was talking to. You frowned, no longer feeling ashamed or apologetic for hitting his car.

"No, it isn't but I'm sure that if you can afford a Mercedes then I'm sure you have the money to fix the damn bumper yourself," you argued.

"You're right," he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "I can afford to get it fixed. I don't know why I thought that someone...." His voice trailed off as he faced your car. ".... someone who drives a 2010 Ford Taurus could even pay for a single scratch on my car."

broke bitch alert!!!

He turned around, lifting his brows, waiting for a response from you. The disrespect was too real and you blurted out an aggressive, “Fuck you.”

He was seriously calling you broke…

“And fuck you for hitting my car.” The guy got closer, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were familiar somehow. “You...” His voice trailed off from looking at your sweatshirt.

He got distracted from the words on it. It had your team and university labeled on it.

“You don’t even go to this school, do you?” he asks.

The mysterious boy’s question threw you off. Your eyes darted everywhere before talking. "No...?" you replied lost. "Why the hell does it even matter?"

“I knew you seemed familiar.” He nodded, getting struck by a moment of realization. "You're that one volleyball player who plays at ____ university?" He asked, reading your shirt. "And you're Y/N, right?"

“Yeah, why?”

"You know what-" he smacked his lips. "I'll let this slide this time one time.” You wanted to say thanks, too bad part of you was still heated from the argument, but how did he know your name?

You watched him walk to his car, and then he opened the door. “Just stay the hell out of my way, got it?"

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

"More than happy too,” you shout.

Once he got into his car, you turned around and ran inside the school. heading straight to the gym. You saw your team on the court, playing hard in an intense rally as you walked in. There was a shit ton of people cheering, yelling and screaming.

The noise was a mixture of good and bad…

You glanced at the score and thankfully, it was a tie. Coach gave you a deadpan as you walked towards her with guilt. Like you were expecting, she scolded you or whatever, and then she called a time-out.

All the girls left the court to get water and catch their breaths. Coach like usual, went over everyone's positions and dos and don'ts. While she did so, you slid out of your hoodie and sweatpants, revealing your jersey and shorts under.

You were prepared.

You scanned the crowds on your school's side and damn near everyone showed up to support the team. Some classmates waved at you and of course, you returned the kind gesture, glad to see them here to support the team.

Then randomly out of nowhere, you saw the same guy enter the gymnasium. He walks up a few flights of bleachers to sit with Jimin, Seokjin, and some other guy you don't know.

You assumed they were his friends.

When he's done greeting them... his attention landed on you, only you. It was weird after that interaction you had with him.

Looking away from him, you tried to regain your focus on the girls and coach.

"You all are doing great; except I need you all to make it harder for them. Let's stop fooling around and get in the lead and let it stay that way. Now that Y/N is here there's no more confusion now, the lineup is back to normal. Everyone with me?" Coach looked at everyone and they responded with nodding heads or a yes ma'am.

"Go out there and make them work, make them sweat."

The girls, including you, did your signature hand-stack a second after the buzzer went off. Girls that were benched sat down and girls that were on the court returned to the floor.

You simply do you and you get on the court to do what you're best at.

Play volleyball.

Things went back to normal, everyone played their hearts out, and in the end. You won the game.

But throughout the process, you couldn't help but notice his stares during the whole game. Anytime you'd look in his direction his focus was already on you.

The more you looked at him the more you remembered his identity. Now him knowing your name made sense because he attends your school along with him being in your 5th period.

Chemistry.

His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. He was a new exchange student from Seoul, but you couldn’t remember his major, although you did remember that he’s in a relationship with a girl named Alex who was well known at your school. Which is also how Jungkook was known in the first place.

It’s surprising because you hardly recognized him due to your head being on such a swivel.

It’s crazy that you've never even crossed paths before.

Ever since your first impression of Jungkook, the universe did its thing where he appeared everywhere now and you couldn’t escape him…

For some odd reason, he stood out even more because every day he went out of his way to bother you and piss you off, constantly. You haven't liked him since then and now you don't like him even more and couldn’t avoid him.

He didn't keep his word when you ran into him and he told you this exactly: "Stay the hell out of my way."

You’ve been stuck with this idiot ever since then.

*Present*

“Should I have taken your glasses instead?” he jokes, knowing damn well you are practically blind. You could see, but not too well.

You bark, “Why are you bothering me?”

“You should’ve never hit my car,” he says, words rolling off his tongue with a shrug.

“Oh, fuck off,” you aggressively tell him, wishing he’d disappear like dust into the air. 

How long was he going to hold you accountable for that? It’s been months.

“I’ll fuck off when you tell me what’s up with you. You seem more feisty than usual….” You immediately stop walking to glare at Jungkook who places his finger on his chin.  “Did one of your little boyfriends piss you off?”

He’s referring to Taehyung and Yoongi…

 “Wow… your detective skills are impressive,” you sarcastically praise him, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Is that all you got?”

Jungkook strokes his chin. “Am I right?”

“Those aren’t my boyfriends and you are wrong, but why do you even care about what’s going on with me?”

“I don't, I'm just curious,” He replies, sounding interested in the reason for your attitude. “And you look like shit and it’s not because of me… so I want to know.”

“Yeah, and I feel like it too,” You admit, feeling the sleepiness weigh you down. “Like always…” an exhausted sigh leaves your lips.

“Why?” he asks, headphones still in his possession.

Jungkook's questions make you rub your temples. “I’m exhausted and later today I’m gonna be busy. I have to attend the sports event. You know where all athletes are required to go?”

“I’m familiar.” Jungkook places the headphones around his neck. “They announced the dumb thing yesterday.”

“It’s not dumb, Jungkook,” you declare, folding your arms, giving him a deadpan. “It's an important and great opportunity for all college athletes. It only happens once a year.”

The sports event in the evening that you are attending is an event for all athletes. It allows students to meet other teams including school teams, professional teams and club teams.

It’s a chance to ask professional coaches and players for advice for future reference. Sometimes, people who are that good get recruited to play on a team outside of school with the professionals.

That happens to maybe a couple of students out of the multitude of schools put together. Being chosen is such an amazing opportunity, you get to be on national television, by any chance make history, and get paid tons and other good things, but you weren’t banking on it this year.  The odds of you getting scouted out were more than average, however, there are still things you’re insecure about when it comes to playing.

If anything, you need to secure those first before putting yourself out there, on national television.

“Beasty…” he says as if he had a question.

“Yes...?” you lazily nod slowly, watching his tongue glide over his teeth while smirking. 

He better not ask to be my additional person

Was he going to ask you if he could be your extra guest this evening? You’re currently figuring out who’s that going to be, but it damn sure wasn’t going to him.

“Will-”

You squint your eyes, hoping this isn’t leading to a proposal. “Wait… you aren’t suggesting that I should take you-”

 “No, I’m already going,” he claims, shaking his head. “And I have my date for this evening. I was just wondering about yours.”

Date, hm?

“So, who is it?” he asks, intrigued. 

It's purely silent for a moment, but you think of something quickly to save yourself from the embarrassment-

You quickly speak up. "I have a date,” you throw in proudly, ignoring how big of a lie that is. 

All you care about is covering your ass at the moment, not the backlash.

you’re such a fucking liar.

"Right, so who is it?"

You dodge his question. “Who's your date, Jungkook?” you ponder, pretending that your curiosity isn’t bouncing off the walls. You could feel it in your bones.

Jungkook isn't an athlete for the school, so that means the person he will be attending the event with is someone who goes to this school or someone else.

His face twitches with amusement. Seeing you in his business is a sight for him. “A very good friend of mine…”

“Is she on my team?” 

“I can assure you she isn’t.” Jungkook cackles before confirming, “Volleyball players aren’t my type.”

Then what is?

•that’s a relief

“She goes to another school anyway. I can guarantee that you don’t know her.” Jungkook watches your eyes drop from his face to his neck, then grips the headphones firmly.

“Enough about mine,” he says as he changes the subject unexpectedly. “Who’s your…” A smile plastered on his face. “Date. And don't answer my question with another question."

Hm, who is your date??

"It's a secret," you whisper, motioning sealed lips. "I'll reveal mine once I see yours.”

He gives a subtle shrug. "Fair enough," Jungkook says, nodding his head, acknowledging your agreement.

*Bell rings!* 

“Oh, won’t you look at that?” Placing your hands on your hips, you point out, “It's time to go class…so-” you stare at the headphones again. “Are you going to hand them over or what?” 

Jungkook looks down at your hand and laughs when you extend it out. “Should I?” He calmly asks, pushing your buttons. You start to tap your foot impatiently, exaggerating your irritation.

He thinks to himself for a moment, before his eyes drop to the beats around his neck, then shortly locks eyes with your frustrated ones. “Actually… I want to hang onto these for a little while. These will come in handy during my workout.”

“Fine! Keep them,” you express with a dramatic slap to the side of your thighs. “But don’t think that I won’t get them back.”

As the warning bell rings, you shoot him a withering glare and without wasting a single second, you storm off to class with only one particular thing on your mind… and it wasn’t the headphones…

Who is Jungkook's date?

To be continued…

♡︎Taglist is here, lovelies

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #minors dni #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #jungkook au #jungkook x you #bts #jeon Jungkook #bts smut #Jungkook fic

[solarwynd]

the way i see things in the future..bts will never disband at least never officially its a brand that will stay on as long as possible (unless there is some huge internal conflict or smth) 2025 they will focus on the group but come a point i see them turning into a version of coldplay making comebacks or get-together(s) to tour once every 4years, them focusing more on themselves individually and their personal lives but there is a very clear plan to switch to jk later that whole branding thing they did for him is not for nothing its also the typical move of going for the youngest member in kpop but also in his case the most malleable one... they can make out of him whatever THEY want and its not really the case of most of the other members. jk njws lsrf..are what they see as the company's future all under scooter's supervision thats why scooter stays on no matter what because he just fits the new/future vision hybe is going for (more market expansion, less bts dependence)

Exactly. Hybe has found their stride with their girl groups because I personally think both njs and lsfm are good in concept. With boy groups they’re still struggling to have one that will fully take. (which ig fine for now since bts will be coming back.) but it’s definitely not gonna be how it was 2018 & prev. After this initial reunion I definitely see them taking pauses and doing mostly solo ventures like you said. I’d much prefer it specifically in jimin’s case, but I think hybe is definitely starting to enter their “after bts” business mode and timeline.

[fanfictionera]

Love You (BuckyBarnesxReader)

A/N: Here is the long awaiting part 2 to Missed You! There will be a part 3...much sooner than when this was posted....mainly because part 3 spoke to me much more than part 2 so I had to write that first before my brain would focus on part 2. 😅😆

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Bucky and Y/N have crossed the lines that they where fearful to take. Not with a plunge or with a leap but in slow steady strides they take in sync. Or do they? What happens when reactions from the outside question what's happening on the inside? 

Word Count: 2,687

Warnings: Where a helmet, please. Be safe. People in love. No smut but tune into part 3 😉

Love You

Y/N slowly blinked awake before rolling over reaching for her phone that was charging on the nightstand. Just as the phone screen lit up, she was pulled back by Bucky's strong arms. He kissed the back of her neck, where it met her shoulder.

"I don't want to know what time it is," his voice was deeper in the morning, more gravely, right after he woke up. 

It was one of Y/N's favorite sounds. "What about Sam and Steve?"

"Who?" Y/N could hear the smirk in his voice. "Never heard of em'" 

Y/N snuggled back further "Alright, if you say so." 

The room fell into a warm silence as they took in the last few minutes before their bubble would be popped. All too soon there were the soft tones of the alarm going off. 

"Oh I remember now." Bucky let out a laugh through his nose. "The two pains in my ass who make me go with them to the VA."

"Come on, you like going." Y/N smiled. 

Bucky shook his head against the pillow, "Not when there's an exceptionally gorgeous woman in my bed." He captured her lips with his before climbing out of bed.

Y/N could feel the heat dance across her cheeks as she watched him begin to pick out his clothes. 

Unabashedly, she watched him change, "Are you working out after?"

Bucky turned, pulling his shirt over his head and down his torso "Yeah I think so. We'll be at the VA till three-ish and then probably will go on a run or something." Y/N hummed in response as she shifted flat onto her stomach, wrapping her arms firmly around her pillow. "You still hanging with Nat today?"

"At some point." Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed to put his socks on as she spoke. "She got back late last night so I'm going to enjoy a lazy morning before I go bug her."

"Lucky." Bucky said before getting up to go into the bathroom.

A few moments later Bucky walked out and came up to the side of the bed, leaning over onto his hands, he hovered for a moment above Y/N.

He leaned down giving one last final kiss to her exposed shoulder. "Alright, I gotta go. I'll see you later and we'll figure out something to do."

"Sounds like a plan, have fun." Y/N watched Bucky leave, closing the door behind him. She rolled back over attempting to fall back asleep but only achieving a dreamy lethargic state.

Y/N finally began to wake up a short while later. She curled her arms up and out, her limbs pulling into a deep involuntary stretch. She grabbed her phone and opened her messages.

Y/N: 

N: 

Jk come over whenever

Y/N: Solid. I'm gunna shower first

N: Door will be unlocked 😎

 Y/N pulled herself out of the bed and made her way to the door. With a click behind her she closed Bucky's door and trudged down the hall to her room. She quickly refreshed herself before pulling on comfy clothes. As she walked out the door, she grabbed her phone. 

Y/N opened Nat's door to find her propped up in bed, a controller in hand, her attention on the TV. "Hey, I just started a match." 

"Are you going to wear this or can I take it?" Another voice pulled Y/N's gaze. "Cuz it's really cute and I think I would wear it more." Yalena stood in front of a mirror, holding one of Natasha's shirts up to herself.

"Yalena!" Y/N said in shock.

She turned around, "Here and present."

Y/N all but launched herself at Yalena, wrapping her in a hug. "What are you doing here? How longs your stay!?"

"I had some work in New York, okay, okay, that's enough, you are suffocating me" Her voice strained slightly as she pushed Y/N back playfully, her phone notification rang out, "and only tonight." Yalena said as she pulled her phone out. "So spill, you and Barnes?"

Y/N looked at her with a slight squint to her eyes as she silently questioned Yalena. "It's going really well."

Nat held back a smirk as Yalena turned her full attention fully back to Y/N, deadpan. "Wow. I came all the way here--"

"From New York." Y/N interjected.

Yalena sighed, "Yes, I came all the way from the New York, and that's all I get? come on!"

Y/N fell back on the bed as Yalena sat down next to her sister. "I mean, yeah? What do you want to know?" 

"You've must of gone on dates? Done things together? Have you found out what his favorite movie is? Food? The sex must be fantastic--ouch!" Yalena was interrupted by Natasha's elbow in her side. "What!? He's a super soldier, tell me I'm wrong." Yalena directed her question back at Y/N as her phone went off again.

"Y/N you do not have to answer that and who's that Ms. Popular?" Nat tried to grab for her phone.

"Hey!" Yalena quickly moved it out of reach, "If you must know its Kate Bishop."

"Who's Kate Bishop?" Y/N asked as she sat up.

Yalena quickly stashed her phone away, "Oh no, this is not about me it's about you and Barnes."

"Look all I can tell you is he's amazing." Y/N began, "We just exist on the same frequency, we get each other and can read each other. It's a feeling I've never had with anyone else."

"Oh my god." Yalena smiled. "You guys haven't done it yet!"

"Yalena," Nat exclaimed.

"No, we haven't!" Y/N exclaimed, "Ya happy?"

Both Nat and Yalena stared at you for a second, "Wait, really?" Nat asked as her brows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah? Why?" Y/N replied as her gaze fell.

Yalena's phone dinged again, "You have more patience than me," Yalena spoke as she typed, "There's literally nothing stopping you from just climbing on that man and--ouch--HEY!" Yalena recoiled again as Nat tried to take her phone. "What? I'm giving her girl advice. You told me to make more friends and I did, I have Kate bishop and Y/N Y/L/N." Natasha glared at her, "I am just doing what you said, gosh." 

"What my sister is trying to say," Nat smiled, "Is, you look very happy and we love that for you."

"Give me this. What are you even playing?" Yalena asks as she takes the controller from Nat. "Car soccer?"

"This map, yes." Nat raised an eyebrow slightly as she spoke. 

The day continued on as they lounged around and relaxed. At some point their game was forgotten as they sunk back into the mattress, scrolling on their phones.

"We were talking about going out tonight, you should come with." Yalena said to Y/N.

Y/N thought for a moment, "Like how out?"

"We are going to the Wiggle Room." Nat answered back.

"Yeah, thank you but no.” Y/N laughed slightly, “I did not mentally prepare for that."

Yalena climbed over Y/N as she got out of the bed, “Whatever, you’re lame, moving on, seriously can I wear this shirt?” Y/N and Nat burst out laughing, “What? It's cute, I’m wearing it.”

"Hey," Bucky's voice was soft as he placed a kiss on Y/N's cheek before making his way to his dresser.

Y/N didn't even hear him come in, She smiled back, "Hey."

Bucky was pulling clothes out of his drawer when he stopped what he was doing and turned around. "What's up?"

"Huh," Her smile widened and she let out a shaky laugh as she let her head fall slightly. Of course he could tell. "If I said nothing would you believe me." Bucky grabbed a shirt and paused waiting for her to look back up at him.

She glanced up, "Didn't think so."

"I'm going to clean up, then we can go get some food." He said as he headed towards the bathroom. "Or watch a movie."

Bucky knew by not pushing the subject she would come around quicker and by distracting her, would give her a moment to forget about whatever was swirling in her head. 

Y/N sat at the edge of the bed trying not to let her thoughts overwhelm her. Taking several deep breaths she focused on her breathing, inhaling and exhaling.

She heard the shower turn on before Bucky walked back into the room, throwing a dirty towel into the basket. He could see Y/N drowning. He walked over, letting his hands slide up her arms, pulling her out of her head. "Food or Movie?"

"Food, I think." Y/N responded just as her stomach growled slightly.

Bucky gripped her hands and pulled her up off the bed, "Food it is, why don't you go change and then meet me in the garage."

"Not the kitchen?" Y/N face scrunched in confusion. 

Bucky chuckled as he placed a kiss on her forehead, "I'm taking you out to get food. If that's okay with you?"

A bubbly sensation of excitement grew in Y/N, "Yeah, um, I guess I'm okay with that." A smile grew on her face.

"Then go get changed and meet me in the garage." He guided her towards the door and she let him lead her. He opened the door and stood to the side. 

Just before Y/N made it through the doorway she spun quickly to face him, "Can we take your bike?" He could see the glint of excitement in her eyes. 

Y/N felt his hands come to either side of her face and pull her lips to his. She hung onto his forearms as he slowly pushed her back into the hallway, never breaking the kiss. "Yes, yes we can." 

Y/N smiled before making her way back to her room. Bucky closed the door before rubbing his hands down his face, "She will be the death of me." His lips pulled at the corners as he grabbed a new towel and walked into the bathroom to finally take a shower.

The late afternoon sun was warm and hazy as Bucky navigated his bike down nine west. The road weaved around and through the rural tree filled area. Small pockets of civilization popped up, reminding them they were still very much in New York. 

Y/N loved feeling the wind tug at her strands of hair, the air on her face and the bike rumbling beneath her. As the world zoomed by her hands lazily clung to Bucky's sides. A feeling that would always make his stomach flutter. 

He remembered the first time Y/N had gone for a ride with him. He remembers how flustered she was and how she tried to hide it. Yet by the end of the ride she had relaxed and let her guard down. He had lost count how many times they would just go for a drive. 

Before long the Mid-Hudson bridge came into view. After they crossed the river, Bucky took a few side roads until a small restaurant came into view. The white box-shaped building had blue accents and a sign reading River Station Steak and Seafood, with a swordfish in the center. It sat right on the river and the bridge was in full view from the parking lot.

"You ready for some good food?" He asked after shutting his bike off.

Y/N pulled herself off the bike, "Always!" She leaned over to give him a kiss before he got up as well. 

River Station was a local restaurant that Bucky and Y/N visited quite often. It was about twenty minutes from the compound and allowed them to get away without going all the way into the big city. Bucky opened the door for Y/N and followed her in, his hand naturally finding its way to her lower back as they walked through the restaurant. Past the small groups of families and dates sitting in the dining area inside and the handful of people at the bar watching a game on the large flat screen tv's. 

They continued out onto the outdoor porch seating area. Large bulb string lights swayed across the space. Mesh metal tables accompanied by dual matching chairs scattered across the wood slatted deck. Their usual spot, with the perfect view of the bridge, was open and they sat down. 

"Hey guys," The server came up, "Starting with the usual drinks?"

"Kaitlyn!" Y/N exclaimed, "How's Po doing?" Kaitlyn's shoulders relaxed down as she sighed in relief. "He's doing great! He's back to his normal self."

"Oh good!" Y/N replied. 

Bucky could only watch the interaction completely enamored. He knew that Y/N had been wondering how Po was doing after his surgery. Kaitlyn had found the injured puppy wandering around the restaurant after her shift one day and took the little weenie dog in. What Y/N didn't know was after they had found out Kaitlyn had picked up some extra shifts to pay for the surgery, Bucky found out which vet clinic Po was at and paid for the surgery. 

"I'll be right back with those drinks!" Kaitlyn smiled before walking away. 

Y/N looked back across at Bucky, finding a lazy smile on his lips and soft sparkle on his eyes, "What?"

"Nothing." Bucky picked up his menu, "Can I not appreciate my girlfriend?"

Before long they were a few drinks in and food scattered the table like a feast. Y/N stared out over the river watching the reflection of the bridge and sky dance and travel across the water's surface. Completely entranced, she slowly took a sip of her drink. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky asked as he popped a piece of calamari in his mouth. 

Y/N eyes slowly came in contact with his, she took a deep breath. "Just Nat and Yelena." 

"Today?" Bucky clarified.

Y/N sat her drink down, "Yeah, I haven't seen Yalena since we started dating so of course she wanted to know everything." Y/N playfully rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "We were just talking, well, she was gently interrogating."

"Unfortunately she knows her own power." Bucky replied.

"Fortunately for me she doesn't work on me." Y/N shook her head slightly as she let out a sigh, "they had a reaction to something I said and I wasn't expecting it."

"About what?" Bucky pressed.

Y/N shrugged slightly, "They found out we haven’t had sex yet."

"Oh," Bucky's response was soft. "And it bothers you?

"Not at all." Y/N was looking at him, "It's just- they seemed shocked we haven't. Like genuinely shocked, I think they got in my head." Y/N shrugged her shoulders defeatedly before taking another sip of her drink.

She looked out over the water and Bucky could see her eyes glassing over. He reached over and took Y/N's hand in his, his thumb slowly ran the ridges of her knuckles. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm just enjoying this." Y/N smiled, "I don't know if where we are at is considered a stage but, --" Y/N tried to find her words.

Bucky's heart felt like it melted in his chest, "You're not done experiencing it." Bucky finished for her. He could feel her body tone shift, her body relax and her shoulders ease down.

Bucky squeezed her hand, "You know I didn't think I would ever get to experience this kind of love." He paused, "With you everything slows down, time doesn't exist. It's almost like I'm getting some of those years back through you."

A bubbly feeling rose through Y/N's chest as a smile grew on her face, "You could have just said you love me." 

"I love you." Without missing a beat he replied. 

Bucky's gaze was unwavering as he held hers. "Ready to head back?" 

"Back where?" A smile grew behind the glass she held in front of her lips. 

"Oh, just the Compound, where we live." Bucky chuckled slightly.

Y/N shook her head, "Never heard of it."

"Alright." God Bucky loved her. " Well, if we have nowhere to go, how do you feel about a sunset drive?" An instant wave of glee spread through Y/N as she shook her head. “Then let's get out of here.”

end

Part 3 Coming Soon

Tag List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@stale-breadcrumbs

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #friends to lovers #marvel #MCU #Marvel MCU #james buchanan barnes #bucky #buckyxreader #buckybarnesxreader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female!reader #bucky fanfic #Missed You

[aquagustd]

fast forward - JJK

↣ If every single person you knew was against you, it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter because Jungkook would be there for you. That’s why you don’t question his words when he repeats ‘I’ll be back’ one disconcerting morning, and you respond with ‘I know. I trust you.’ He’ll make you eat your words.

✩ a flashback drabble for hell is empty ✩

༄moodboard

pairing — biker!jungkook x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, angst

word count — 12K

listen to — reflections by the neighbourhood, bad things by camila cabello & machine gun kelly

warnings/tags — established relationship, strong language, mentions of violence & blood, drug use/dealing, strict parents, reader & jk are around 19-20, shotgunning, mentions of abortion, minor character death, mentions of guns, minor bike accident + injury, familial conflict, soft but stern jk, just two goofs madly in love with each other (◕﹏◕♡), mentions of babies, explicit smut — thigh kink ofc, spit kink, hand kink, finger sucking, dirty talk, fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, biting/scratching, a nice mix of degradation + praise, name-calling (slut, whore), hickeys, soft + rough sex, doggy style, dumbification, standing sex, oral (f & m), hair pulling, deep throating, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (rip), creampie, breath play, impact play, some ass play, nipple play, pillow talk

a/n — can be read as a standalone. but is necessary for the plot of HIE !! now that Jungkook is introduced into the story, I thought it’d be good for a lil flashback so the readers can get a better look at their relationship in the past & what his return really means for y/n & Junho. the narrator in the beginning of this drabble will be revealed later on in the story. also the song reflections pls it’s them 😭 listen to it before you read this 🥺

∞

Just as the gravel crumbles under the tires of his motorcycle, everyone cowers as he passes them by, leaving a kiss on his companion’s forehead before disappearing behind the infamous, nondescript building to get on with secret business. Although it wasn’t that much of a secret.

Everyone knew what Jeon Jungkook got up to by his walk alone. Similar to the domineering stride his father carried with him each time you would be lucky enough to see him. The few occasions that he left his mansion was enough to set an uncomfortable lump in everyone’s throat. But even high up in the comfort of his home, his business was thriving. Little men running around for him with a wave of his hand. Bees, he called them.

Everyone also knew that Jungkook would follow in his footsteps, and it all began once he finished high school. A small initiation was held and even if Jungkook had the wits to take over right after his last day of his metaphorical teenage years, his father said that he wasn’t ready yet. Only because he was still alive and in good health. It was only a matter of time before his own supply would kill him. BUT, he’s still alive. And Jungkook is still a bee, buzzing around like the rest of them for his father.

Still, everyone knew that Jungkook was the younger version of his father, even if he hated hearing it.

How Jungkook and ___ met, no one knew. Perhaps they were childhood friends? Met in high school? No one knew. Given that she came from a religious home, far away from Jungkook’s neighborhood and the dangers lurking in those streets, it was difficult to piece their beginning together. Her background should be disregarded entirely, she and Jungkook shared the same temperament and were equally merciless. Even if she wasn’t a bee herself. But Jungkook kept her around, or she kept him around? What mattered was that they were deeply in love with each other, anyone could see that. Inseparable. Soulmates.

It was quiet for the past week, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they returned from their little vacation and stirred things up just like they always do.

Wide-eyed, some sniggering, others scared for their life, look on as she yanks the back of an unsuspecting waitress’ head, firm grip around her ponytail before she’s thrown to the floor.

Back to business, I guess.

“If you don’t fucking speak up—” You lift your boot, pausing just above her ribcage as she holds up her hands, muttering pleas under her breath.

“J-Jake…He—” She coughs, scooting away on her palms to hit the wall, shaking her head furiously. You stalk her further into the alleyway, rolling up the sleeves of your leather jacket as far as they can go.

“What about Jake?”

The echo of your voice is enough to have her trembling, wiping the corner of her bloody mouth before shielding her face. You crouch down in front of her, yanking down her hands to find terror in her hazel eyes. Jungkook said to rough her up a bit, you think your job is done. She doesn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her brother’s constant fuck ups.

With a sigh, you help her up to her feet, fixing the nametag on her dress quickly before stepping away.

“Jungkook won’t be too happy to hear that I let you go so easily,” you begin, rubbing your knuckles on your jeans, “so you better go home and tell your good-for-nothing brother that he rather come out of hiding before we pay your parents a little visit.”

She gasps, a little overdramatically.

Lurching forward, you grip her arm and drag her around to the front of the building, rolling your eyes when she begins to sob.

“Oh please. I didn’t even hit you that hard, here.” She grabs the tissue you offer, blowing out her nose. “Aren’t you tired of all this? Your brother doesn’t deserve you.”

Her lips quirk to the side, grimacing when she licks at the wound on the corner of her mouth. She lifts her gaze to meet yours, voice a pained whisper.

“He’s my little brother.”

You fold your arms, “I know for a fact that we aren’t the only ones looking for him.”

She shakes her head, tears glistening under the fading light of a passing car, “yes. There’s much worse.”

You chuckle, slowly backing away from her, “don’t let Jungkook hear you say that.”

At the mention of his name, you feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly relaxing in his hold when his scent surrounds you. He glances at the waitress who stumbles into the café, a question on his lips.

“Nothing,” you sigh, taking the can of Coke from him as you return to his bike parked on the far end of the lot, “but I think we’re making headway. He might be hiding at his parents’ place.”

Jungkook nods, setting down his drink on the ground before helping you with your helmet, knocking his against yours once you’re togged up and ready.

“I like it when you’re out with me,” he smiles, flashing his heart-stopping bunny grin.

You shove his shoulder as he gets on the bike, throwing your leg over the seat behind him before squeezing his pecs, “I’m always out with you.”

He starts up the engine, grinning at you in the mirror, “you know what I mean. When I’m out on business.”

Resting your cheek on his shoulder, you slide your hands inside his jacket, his heartbeat thrums under your palms, accelerating just as you take off onto the road. Joy overwhelms your senses once you fall into the odd tranquillity from speeding down the roads. Hair whipping around in the wind, you grip onto him tighter, knees hitting his sides as he takes the turn onto the highway.

You breathe in the night air, cutting into your lungs while he speeds up, and you know it’s because you told him recently that you feel the most free when you’re with him on his bike.

A smile breaks onto your face. During the first few months of dating Jungkook, you weren’t too sure if you were in love with him, or in love with the way he makes you feel. It was something you struggled with for a long time, and you knew that there was a significant difference between the two. And it was only recently, when you made peace with the fact that it was both.

Heart spilling with a million and one emotions, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, breathing in his natural smell as much as the wind would allow. He turns around, lips lifted in a smirk before you smack the back of his helmet.

“Eyes on the road! Are you trying to kill us?!”

His words are muffled but you still hear them loud and clear, and not because you’ve heard them multiple times before.

“I wouldn’t mind if I die with you like this!”

Your giggle is cut short when he winds down the road even faster, tears prickling your eyes before you decide to surrender to the speed and close them fully, gasping once he comes to a stop outside a familiar house.

Unclicking your helmet, you jump off and bang your fists against his chest, whining when he grips them tight and holds them close to his body, reeling you in slowly.

“I thought you liked it,” he whispers, positioning you between his legs while he leans against his bike, “I make you feel free, isn’t that right?”

You tip your chin up to press your lips to his, but he jerks away, laughing when you whine again.

Managing to break out of his hold, you tug on the hair at the back of his neck, bringing his face down to your level.

“And I hate it when you tease,” you mutter, grazing his lips with your own while he hisses, hands flying to your hips. You brush his hair out of his eyes with your free hand, mirroring his grin once you catch sight of his blown pupils.

He pulls you flush against his body, tilting his head just like he does before he’s about to steal your breath away when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey lovebirds! Good to see you back in action.”

You snap away from Jungkook, back pressed into his chest while he winds an arm around yours, holding you close.

“Hyung, nice to see you here,” Jungkook shouts, grabbing Yoongi’s extended arm, “thought you’d be too busy with miss goody two shoes.”

Looking between the two of them, you cock an eyebrow, “that’s her new nickname?”

When you and Jungkook begin to snigger, Yoongi groans, “I didn’t even miss you two.”

You share a look with Jungkook, poking at Yoongi’s side before he scurries away into the house with you following close behind.

“Stop lying! You missed us! That’s why you kept calling every hour.”

Yoongi pretends not to hear, making his way to the noisy kitchen while Jungkook greets each person you pass on your way further inside the house, voice drowned out by the booming music.

“Correction,” Jungkook grins, filling a cup with whatever drink he finds on the counter, “every fifteen minutes.”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, side eyeing your boyfriend who nudges his shoulder with a mirthful simper.

“That’s because your father wanted updates,” he mumbles, taking a swig from his nearly empty cup, “and since you were gone, I had to finish up what you left behind.”

While they continue to bicker, you scan the lounge to find an empty spot on the couch, Haneul seated nearby. You take a sip from Jungkook’s cup and saunter towards her, planting yourself in the middle of her conversation with Iseul.

“You’re back!” She throws her arms around your shoulders with all her half-heartedness, you pat her back just the same. “We missed you so much!”

You receive unenthusiastic greetings from the girls around her. Dismissing the rest of them, you turn to her and pretend to be interested in what’s going on in her life before she finally gets to the juicy parts, only to be interrupted by Iseul calling your name.

“Hmm?”

She passes the blunt to Juwon, drawn-on eyebrow raised to her hairline.

“So, is it true?”

You lean back on the couch, resting your hand on your stomach tiredly, “is what true?”

She glances at each of her friends briefly, as if searching for confirmation before she cups a hand around her mouth, strobe lights dancing over her features.

“You and Jungkook left town so you could get an abortion.”

It would’ve been better if you had a drink in your hand, so you could’ve spat it all over her judgemental face. But instead, you must sit up in the seat, lips parted in disbelief.

“What?”

She holds up her palms with indifference, “that’s what we heard.”

They stare at you like a wake of vultures, waiting for your answer and you want to deny but you know no matter what you say, they’ll believe what they want to believe. A sickening weight stirs in your stomach.

You spring up from the couch, mumbling a small ‘that’s not true’ over your shoulder before making your way through the gyrating bodies, hand on your belly as you grip the railing outside and suck in a deep breath.

Since you’ve started dating Jungkook, there were all kinds of rumors circulating. None of which affected you, but why does this one make you sick to your stomach? Is it because you took time off for a harmless vacation and that’s what people thought? Is it because they thought you were having Jungkook’s baby, and you didn’t want it? Or is it because of your beliefs? What you were force fed since you were a little girl by your parents?

All you know is that you had never, ever, in your three years with Jungkook and the years before that, thought about Jungkook and a baby in the same breath. It doesn’t seem…like you or him.

Leaning over the railing, your hands slide up and down over your arms, bile rising in your throat. Where do people get the time to make up shit like this?

Just as you’re about to go back inside, Jungkook emerges from behind the sliding door, forehead creased.

“What are y—What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, managing a small smile as if that’ll throw him off your case.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, reaching for the joint in his hand but he pulls it out of your reach, dipping his head to peer into your eyes.

“Something’s up.”

Reflexively, your gaze shifts behind him to the window where the girls sit, watching you and Jungkook like hawks. He follows your gaze, straightening his posture before cursing under his breath.

“Those bitches. What did I tell you about talking to them?” He scolds, attempting to raise his voice but still his regular pitch when he grabs your shoulders. “I told you before. They’re jealous of you!”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek, “I don’t see why they should be jealous of me.”

He clicks his tongue, big eyes even bigger, “are you kidding? You have everything they don’t.”

“And what’s that?”

His tongue flicks over lips, tucking your hair behind your ear daintily, “firstly, every single one of them live miserable lives. Their parents force them into college when they’re all dumb as fuck and they’re all single and—”

You shut him up by pressing your index finger against his lips, speaking around a laugh, “okay baby. I get it.”

His innocent eyes turn mischievous, pulling a gasp from your lips when he tugs you close, “you know what else?”

Eyes glued to his lips, you jerk your chin in question, slipping a hand around his neck, “what?”

He takes a long drag from the joint, thumb tugging down your bottom lip before slotting his mouth over yours. You breathe him in greedily, sighing when he seals it with a lingering kiss before pulling away. A dizzying spell cast over you from his gaze alone.

“You have me.”

Before you can respond, he starts to attack your neck, teeth and tongue working on your flushed skin while you squirm under him, knowing that you’d go home with bruises marring your skin. Giggling, you manage to pull away and fit your face in his neck, tugging down the collar of his shirt to suckle your own blooms into his flesh. He groans, long and breathy, hand fitted over your ass.

“I love you,” he grits, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, fingers skimming down your necklace. “Let’s go home.”

Despite the heat brewing in your abdomen, a light feeling in your legs, you press your forehead to his, mumbling a soft ‘no.’ He watches you with half lidded eyes, lips puckered.

“I have to go home tonight,” you breathe, plucking at his collar, “they’re already mad at me for leaving.”

His breath mingles with yours, chest heaving, “it’s late already.”

“I know,” you sigh, pulling back slightly, “but they’ll be waiting for me in the morning.”

He exhales deeply, nodding to himself, “okay. Let’s get you home then.”

As you’re walking down the stairs, Yoongi stumbles out of the house, tossing Jungkook his keys. Even in his inebriated state, he still looks out for you two.

“Take my car,” he slurs, pointing at his black single cab as if you didn’t know it was his, “it’s too dangerous to go out with your bike.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but you steer him away from the house, telling him that it’s better not to argue with a drunk Yoongi. He counters that it’s better not to argue with Yoongi at any time. You laugh, but at the back of your head you know that your little escape from reality has reached its end. Especially when you have to tiptoe up to your room.

Afraid that you might disturb your parents’ sleep and walk straight into your impending doom.

By pure chance, your sleep breaks at around 3:30AM, rubbing at your fuzzy eyes before you squint at your screen. Seeing fifteen missed calls from Yoongi. It better be important, he has the tendency to call you up at the slightest inconvenience concerning Jungkook but it’s not like him to miss your call. You try again and it goes straight to voicemail. Not long after, your phone lights up with his name and you answer it right away, jumping up from your bed when you hear the panic lacing his voice.

“What the fuck? I’ve been trying to get call you for almost an hour. Come outside.”

You slide on your slippers, whisper-shouting into the speaker, “some of us are not nocturnal like you, Yoongi.” Just as you expected, his car is parked across the house, and you hope with all your heart that your parents are on their third dream. “What do you want?”

His voice trembles slightly which has you pausing, hand on the doorknob, “Yoongi? What’s going on?”

“Fuck. Just come outside and I’ll tell you!”

You’ve only seen Yoongi like this on a few occasions, so when you find him with his head in his hands, you know your paranoia is justified.

As soon as you click in the seatbelt, he’s speeding off, eyes dimmed.

“Jungkook’s been in an accident.”

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, yet still throbs in your mouth.

“W-What? When? Is he okay?”

He rubs his chin, ignoring the blinking light for his own seatbelt, “I don’t know. He’s at the hospital now.”

“When did this happen?”

“I don’t know. Some time after he dropped you off. He got back to leave the car and said he’s going home. Fuck, if I was with him—“ he continues to curse under his breath, ignoring the speed limit.

You rub your palms on your knees, tears flowing freely before Yoongi parks haphazardly outside the ER. You’re fast but he’s faster, barging in and asking for Jungkook. The nurse tries to tell him that he’ll need to slow down, you’re growing impatient, reaching over the desk to pull the monitor in your direction. With frantic eyes, you search for his name to find nothing. Yoongi tugs on your arm, dragging you down the hallway while you’re trying not to skid on the glossy tiles with your useless slippers.

Breaths haggard, you pull back each curtain, not expecting the first one to reveal what you were looking for.

“Yoongi!” Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight.

“Fucking hell.”

The nurse standing beside his head spins around, eyes widening in alarm before she shoves both of you out of the cubicle. You crane your neck to look over her shoulder, blinking away hot tears.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut, lips parted with his face covered in blood, his shirt matted and clinging to his body. You’re one second away from losing your mind, tongue like lead in your mouth.

“Are you friends of his?”

You let Yoongi do all the talking, falling back to sit on the chair, nothing but the worst passing through your mind. He hurt his head. There’s blood all over him. He’s unconscious. A low shrill jumps out of your chest as you slump forward, sobs wracking your body. If you lose him, you’ll lose your sanity.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you lift your head when you feel a hand on your back. Yoongi stands with his eyes downcast, proffering a familiar black jacket. You hold it up to your face with trembling hands, wet eyelashes kissing your cheeks as you breathe in Jungkook’s scent. More tears staining your cheeks.

“What did she say?”

He huffs down on the chair next to yours, index finger rubbing his temple.

“She said someone called the ambulance from his phone but no one else was at the scene when they found him. So, his injuries couldn’t have been from a motorcycle accident,” he chuckles dryly, scrubbing a hand down his cheek, “and we know Jungkook, he’s too sharp for that.”

You swallow thickly, voice nasally, “what about h-him? Will he be okay?”

His head snaps in your direction, nailing you with an exasperated glare, “this is Jungkook we’re talking about. He’s a fighter.”

That does nothing to tame your fear and Yoongi knows it.

“He’ll be fine,” he adds after a beat of silence, knee bobbing incessantly, “he just needs a few stitches.”

Despite hearing those words, your heart still hammers in your ribcage, face feeling hot and prickly.

“Wait,” you break the silence, turning to face Yoongi who’s busy on his phone, “who told you?”

“His father.”

“How did he know?”

Yoongi’s head lifts slowly, realization dawning his features before he grabs the leather jacket from you, inspecting every inch.

“There’s no blood on his jacket,” he notes, dropping it back into your lap before he rises from the chair, “I’m gonna get him a room, he might have to spend a few nights here.”

“Yoongi,” you call, tugging on his sleeve, “this wasn’t an accident.”

He purses his lips, gaze firm, “we’ll just have to wait until he wakes up so we can ask him what really happened.”

The wait is excruciatingly painful, you might have lost a chunk of hair with burgeoning anxiety. Yoongi gets you coffee, but you can’t finish it, the worries weighing on your shoulders is enough to keep you awake until the nurses say you can see him.

You can think of a handful of people that would want to hurt Jungkook and actually follow through with it. If you were to narrow them down, none of it made any sense. Hurting Jungkook meant denting his father’s business immensely and no one wanted to make enemies with Jeon and his bees. But it looks like someone did, and Yoongi would stop at nothing to find out who was behind it.

Jungkook’s father can be too complacent at times, that’s why Jungkook takes some matters into his own hands. It never backfired.

When you see Jungkook sitting up in bed, bandage around his head with a straw caught between his lips, a monsoon of relief washes over, especially when his beady eyes catch on yours. You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he hisses and groans, returning your hug as best as he can.

“Hey,” he scolds, thumbing away your tears, “I’m okay. Look. I’m fine.”

“I know,” you sniffle, propping yourself on the edge of the bed, “I saw you…all bloody and—”

He chuckles, smoothing a hand over your shoulder, “you got scared?”

“Yeah.”

Knuckles running down your cheek, he kisses his teeth, “you’re my strong girl.”

You give him a shy smile, inspecting the marks of his forehead. He hands you the juice box, turning to Yoongi who stands at the door.

“I hope my baby is okay.”

The spark in his dark eyes never dulls, you’ll leave it to Jungkook to make a joke out of every situation. No matter how serious it may be.

“You’re worried about your bike?!”

He falls back on the pillow, laughing tiredly, “Of course…But just imagine me rolling off my bike, on the side of the road like a loose tire!”

Yoongi sits on the armchair a few feet away from the bad, hiding his smile poorly.

“Good to see you back in shape.”

You glance at Yoongi, taking a sip from Jungkook’s juice box, “Yoongi was crying.”

“I was not!”

“Yes,” you poke, waving a finger in his direction, “you were!”

Jungkook’s lips stretch over his teeth goofily, never missing the opportunity to tease Yoongi.

“You were crying for me hyung?”

Yoongi mumbles under his breath, leaning his cheek on his fist before he changes the subject.

“How are you feeling?”

Jungkook stretches his arms over his head, and if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tick in his jaw when he sets them back down.

“Never been better.”

Yoongi props his ankle on his knee, folding his arms over his chest, “what really happened then?”

Jungkook avoids his question, gesturing for you to feed him the yogurt you just opened. He hums quietly, pecking your cheek before asking for another spoonful but you decline, shooting him a suspicious look. Both you and Yoongi have the same reprimanding frown to your lips, waiting for his response.

“What did you do?”

“Hyung,” he begins, adjusting the pillow behind him, “you know how it is when—”

“What—“ Yoongi seethes, leaning forward on his knees “—did you do?”

Jungkook grows defensive, voice raising enough to have the same nurse from earlier barging in to ask if everything is okay. That’s when you know that he caused all this.

“I think he should rest,” she suggests, hands clasped in front of her politely, “you two can come back later.”

Yoongi throws a cursory glance over his shoulder at Jungkook before you hop off the bed, stopped by a hand around your wrist.

You’re hyperaware of the nurse hovering about the door when he yanks you forward and smashes your lips to his, chapped and sloppy but enough to have your stomach twisting in on itself.

“I’ll see you later,” you breathe, steadying yourself on the mattress.

His lips ghost yours, fingers slotting with yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He chases your lips, pouting when you pull away and walk around the bed. With warm cheeks, you apologize to the nurse who holds the door open for you, turning around one last time to blow a kiss in Jungkook’s direction. He holds up his fist, pretending to catch it before holding it to his heart. You laugh to yourself, heart feeling lighter.

It’s been years since you visited this hospital. The last time was when your mother had her kidney operation, and a lot has changed in those few years. The usual teal and white accents was swapped for pale green and baby pink. You don’t know which you like better, both combinations were equally unnerving. But you guess that’s the way a hospital will always feel. People only come here out of obligation, a depressing and unsettling reason behind their visit.

When does one visit the hospital for a joyous occasion?

Ah.

You take your exploration further down, remembering that the maternity wards were a floor below the ER. There’s a large sliding door separating the maternity wards from the rest of the hospital. And you’d need a key card to enter. Cupping your hands over your eyes, you attempt to look further down the hallway, heart stuttering in your chest when the glass slips from under your hands and you stumble forward.

A nurse, wearing pink scrubs, doesn’t spare you a single look as you follow her in. But you knew it was too good to be true when the guy at the mini-reception area cuts your journey short.

“Where are you going, miss?”

Here you are, standing in your white pajamas and pink slippers. You don’t question his judgement as he eyes you down.

“Oh, I was just—” you jut your thumb down the unfamiliar hallway “—visiting.”

His attention is drawn to the telephone that rings behind him, “what ward?”

“Erm…” The whiteboard behind has a bunch of numbers scrawled in different colours, a Ms. B Kim catches your eye. “A8?” You clear your throat, “A8.”

He nods, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear and you’re free to go.

It smells of detergent and musk. You could hear a pin drop. Soft giggles and mumbling come from behind the closed doors, and you find ward A8 easily. But what you were actually looking for is found a little further down. Tiny cribs, some vacant, others occupied with little humans.

You grasp at the glass, flinching when a nurse catches sight of you, but she just waves, coming to stand on the other side of the incubator.

She mouths the words, ‘which baby?’ And you point to a random crib on the far end, plucking at the hem of your sleepshirt.

Even tinier hands, big eyes popping out of its equally bigger head. You stand awestruck, palm pressed to the glass while she holds up the specimen like a burger, peeking around it. Her eyebrows furrow and you realize that she’s waiting for a reaction. You coo, jutting out your bottom lip for her entertainment to which she smiles. Gently, she runs her hand over the babies face which turns a bright pink, gums exposed as its small lips curve up. A genuine smile takes over your features, the impractical urge to squish and pinch its face claws at your heart.

You wonder how it smells in there.

She sets her down, (you’re assuming it’s a girl since they’re all bald) and gets back to work, checking in on the other babies.

They’re all motionless, different shades and shapes but still the same. In identical cribs, lined up next to each other. It’s a funny thing. This is where you all started—”

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi shuffles over with his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I was…uhm…bored so I came here. How did you get in?”

He shrugs, cat-like eyes widening a fraction just as yours did when you first saw them.

“They’re cute, right?”

He’s silent, disgust painting his features before he spins around, leaning against the glass inattentively.

“What do you think he did?”

You sigh, “I don’t know. But he knows he messed up.”

Yoongi scratches his chin, eyes on the floor, “yeah. His father is so fucking angry.”

“I would be too. If my son almost died a few hours ago.”

Yoongi laughs mirthlessly, crossing and uncrossing his legs, “you really think he’s angry because of that? Come on. You should know him by now.”

You tap on the glass, a voiceless cry coming from the baby nearest to you.

“I don’t know what shit Jungkook stirred up but it’s not something that’ll die off quickly.”

Humming quietly, you mirror Yoongi’s posture. Exhausted from coming up with your own conspiracies but still finding new ones to dissect.

“I…”

At his hesitance, you lift your head to look at Yoongi, finding a distant smile on his face.

“I spoke to him. Jungkook’s father, I mean.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “about what?”

“Leaving.”

“Oh.” Your hands sag at your sides, “you’re leaving.”

He nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, “I’m tired of all this, ___. I can’t do it anymore.”

You nudge his shoulder, grinning at him playfully, “does your girlfriend have anything to do with it? Hmm?”

“No,” he states plainly, “she doesn’t. I wanted to leave for a long time but things kept coming up. I want to start afresh. Make a new life for myself. Go to college. Fuck. I don’t know.”

After he mentions college, you laugh, slumping against the wall, “Yoongi? A college boy? Never would’ve imagined.”

“I’m serious,” he warns, “aren’t you tired of it?”

Your smile falls. Tired of it meant being tired of Jungkook. This is all he knows.

Yoongi takes your silence as an answer and he changes his tune, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“You know, I want you to meet her. I feel like you two would get along.”

You shrug off his hand, taking one last look at the babies then loiter along the hall, grimacing when a sudden breeze creeps down your neck.

“It’s funny that we haven’t met her yet,” you laugh, “are you embarrassed of us?”

He snorts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as you head for the staircase.

The rest of your week is spent in the hospital. Yoongi managed to work something out, or bribe, with the head nurse, so you had a comfortable recliner right next to Jungkook’s bed. Following your instructions carefully, he snuck into your room and picked the few things you needed for your extended holiday. It’s still beyond you how he did it in broad daylight.

But once again, your impromptu vacation comes to an end. You’re sat on Jungkook’s lap, waiting for the doctor to come in for his last check-up.

“Hmm,” you wonder out loud, gripping Jungkook’s chin, “you need a shave.”

He brings your fingers up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of your hand like he always does, “do it for me?”

You smile, nuzzling into his neck, “okay.”

The sound of your phone ringing disrupts the tender moment, and when it cuts just as you pull it out of your jeans pocket, you can tell who it is without looking at the screen.

“Shit.”

Jungkook gives you a pained smile, “you have to go.”

“Yeah,” you say dejectedly, “I’ll see you later.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tailing you to the door, “it’s better if I see you tomorrow. It’s been a while since you saw them. Also, Yoongi and I have some business to attend to.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching up to set one last kiss on his puffed-up cheek, “keep safe.”

He relinquishes his hold on your hand with a sorrowful frown, “you too.”

Bitter weather for your bitter mood.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you last saw your parents but to them, it must be two months. That’s how dramatic they can be.

Not once did they call during that time but tonight must’ve been the last straw for them.

You’re an adult. Been one for a few years now but they still have a hold on you that you would never be free of as long as Jungkook is in your life. It’s understandable, one would be afraid if their daughter is involved with the son of Jeon. One of the biggest drug lords your generation and the one before that has ever known.

It’s your life. They don’t get to choose who’s apart of it.  

Once you make it to the front door, fiddling with the straps on your backpack, you decide ‘fuck it’ and shove the door open. Your mother sits in her chair at the kitchen table, back facing the front door and your father stews in the lounge. Newspaper, which is just a prop, obscuring your view of his face.

The door shuts behind you and he sets down the paper, rising to his feet to stand at the fireplace.

When was the last time you used that thing? Cleaned it? Must’ve been some time before high school, when you were still a kid. Fascinated by the flames inside your home.

“Good evening,” he roars, “how nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

Devoid of emotion, he beckons you further inside your own home, a sarcastic smile on his crumpled features.

You hover near the hallway, pushing the straps of your bag over your shoulders.

“I’m tired. What’s going on?”

An awfully dry laugh reaches your eyes, spiking your fear even further. But he doesn’t give you an answer, your belongings brimming three trash bags does. You crouch down in front of it, thorns prickling your throat when you see your shattered frame on the floor, slowly dusting off the shards of glass to salvage the photo behind it.

“One rotten egg in a carton,” he shouts from somewhere behind you, the words all too familiar to you, “and no one wants it. One spoiled fruit, give it a few days and the rest are just the same.”

You stand up on shaky feet, chewing on your lip to keep the tears at bay. It was only a matter of time.

“You live in my house, you follow my rules,” he continues, looming closer and closer, “you knew that. You don’t care about your future, why should we? Your mother and I are tired of saying the same thing over and over again. It’s been a year since you finished school and there’s no direction in your life.”

Silent tears drip from your chin, having accepted your fate the moment you walked in.

“That boy—” he spits “—there’s no place for you here. Please lea—“

Before he can complete that sentence, you struggle with the bags and kick open the door, forcing yourself to look ahead. Don’t stop to find guilt in your mother’s eyes, remorse in your father’s. Because you know you’ll find none.

Chest locking up, your eyes burn as you push through the night. Your pride is what keeps you going, throat working wildly, throwing curse after curse at your parents. They were never willing to take accountability. Did they stop to think just once that you’re who you are today because of them? Only when you got your report card did they care. Even then, to compare you to the rest of your classmates.

You try to recount the most memorable days of your childhood but all it does is bring tears to your eyes. When you think of happiness to counter that emotion, Jungkook is the only face that comes to mind.

No matter who your child turns out to be, you would never kick them out or abandon them. You vow to yourself. To give them time, be gentle and understanding. And compassionate. Accepting of their emotions. The complete opposite of your parents.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, your feet ache, lips and throat dry. Ignoring the group of dodgy men sitting under the staircase, you drag your limbs a little further, carting the bags behind you before you bang a fist on Jungkook’s door, unaware of the inquisitive stares from down the hall.

Yoongi opens the door halfway, speaking in a hushed tone when he shrieks your name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Yoongi,” you sob, holding up your bags, “please get Jungkook.”

“Fuck. Hold on.”

You expect him to wait for you to enter but he shuts the door in your face, leaving you to stare at the pale wood before the door swings open and a frazzled Jungkook steps out. In much better shape than you.

“Hey, hey,” he coos, pulling your head to his chest, “it’s okay. You can stay with me, hey.”

Squishing your cheeks between his palms, he tilts his head to look into your eyes, all the security you need pooling in them.

“We knew this was going to happen. It’s okay,” he affirms, placing kisses on every inch of your face. You can’t seem to stop the tears, falling lax in his arms. “Come on, you’re my strong girl, right?”

Sniffling, you lift your eyes to find his, immediately drowning in their comfort.

“Listen, Yoongi and I have someone over and I don’t—”

The door hits the wall harshly as it flies open. Jungkook curses, screwing his eyes shut before turning around.

“What’s going on here?”

You would’ve been afraid, if you weren’t used to seeing men with muscles twice the size of their head and a murky left pupil. However, with the way Jungkook’s entire body stiffens, sweaty palm slipping into your own, a fearful shiver runs down your spine.

Jungkook clears his throat, side-stepping around the burly, tattooed man who takes up half the doorway, drenched in heavy perfume. An attempt to cover the stink you pick up despite his efforts. He’s covered in ink, but the one that catches your attention is the eye on his neck. Where have you seen that tattoo before?

You had almost forgotten about your luggage when Jungkook reaches around and grabs all three in one hand, shoving you into the apartment where you’re greeted by two unfamiliar men dressed similar to the hefty man breathing down your necks. Yoongi stands at the door with his nail snagged between his teeth, gaze set on the firearms lined up on the coffee table. Cactus plant lying on the carpet.

From their silence alone, you can tell that you walked into something. And you know Jungkook’s fear only spikes when one of the men obstructs your path to his room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. Opposite someone you’d hoped to see. Under different circumstances.

Dry blood coats the side of Jake’s face, his dark hair wet and stringy, head hung low. His hazel eyes flicker to you and you’re reminded of his sister. A loud click of another gun hitting the table breaks through your thoughts, a smug smile fitted on the boss,’ you assume, face as he plops down next to Jake, slapping his back harshly. Jake doesn’t provide any reaction, bloody fingers clutching his knees as he fits into the man’s side.

You only realize that your breaths are strained when his malicious gaze falls on you, heart racking against your ribcage wildly.

“This your girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s hold around your hand tightens, “let’s get this over with, Yang.”

Yang. You don’t think you’ve heard that name before.

He sucks his teeth, leaning back against the couch, soil from the damaged cactus pot smeared by his boot. This is the first time you’ve ever seen Yoongi this silent during a time like this, but when he does speak, you realize why.

Yang points to the guns, chunky rings glittering under the dim light, “I’m waiting for you, big boy. Take your pick.”

Yoongi takes a hurried step forward, “Jungkoo—”

His mouth clamps shut when one of the scrawny men hits the side of Yoongi’s head with the gun you hadn’t noticed earlier. You grimace when he yelps out in pain, a trickle of blood running through his eyebrow.

Yang laughs, low and ominous, “he talks too much.”

You’re too worried about Yoongi to focus on what he’s saying, Jake’s sorrowful eyes locked on yours before Yang springs up.

“Free delivery,” he guffaws, nudging Jake’s knee, “I know you need him more than I do. But you know what I need in return.”

Jungkook glances at Jake, then to Yoongi, who’s shaking his head frantically, then Yang. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes tells you that he made his decision already. A decision Yoongi won’t be too happy with. His hand slips from your grip and he reaches around the couch, setting a heavy overnight bag on the table over the guns. You’re finally up to speed.

One of Yang’s men stationed at the door stomps toward the table but is halted when his boss raises a hand, eyes not leaving Jungkook’s for a second. Your head throbs, body trembling.

“That won’t be necessary,” he smiles, buttoning his coat, “see Jeon. I trust you. Unlike your father.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches and unclenches before he’s forced to stand up and take Yang’s outstretched hand. When he’s about to let go, Yang yanks his hand harshly, speaking into his ear. You share a curious look with Yoongi who seems to be seething in the corner.

The door shuts behind them as they leave and you would’ve yelled out in relief, but Jake sits on the couch, a different expression on his face.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shouts, rushing to the kitchen to wash his face, “do you know what the fuck you just did?”

“What else was I supposed to fucking do?” Jungkook screams from his place in the hallway, helping you with your bags.

“That’s YANG,” Yoongi grunts, voice muffled by the sound of water running. “You basically just signed a non-cancellable, non-negotiable business contract with him! Must I remind you who the fuck he is?”

Once your bags are in Jungkook’s room, you follow him into the kitchen, ready with your own questions. Jake calls your name from the lounge, flashing you a crooked smile.

“C-can I have s-some water?” He croaks, bloodied hand clutching his chest.

Jungkook and Yoongi are too caught up in their own tiff to notice you grab a glass of water. You almost feel sorry for Jake. Almost. He seems weaker than before, bones protruding from under his skin. Well, he chose this path for himself. Now you’d just have to wait to get a word in and ask Jungkook how he’s letting Jake sit here with no shackles.

You watch him chug down every drop, shaking fingers gripping onto the glass clumsily. He wipes the side of his mouth, “can I have some more, please?”

Hand on your hip, you bend down to take the glass from the table, focused on their argument. And then you hear the cup shatter, a strong arm around your neck. You cough, eyes bulging out of your skull as you feel your heartrate pick up once again.

But you don’t need to call Jungkook, Jake does it for you, dragging you to the door before grabbing one of the guns. You’re too terrified to take notice of where he places it, struggling and squirming for breath when you see Jungkook and Yoongi come running out of the kitchen, their expressions blurred.

“He-lp.” You bang a limp hand on Jake’s side, head going fuzzy.

You can feel his hot, putrid breath on your ear, his grip around your throat loosening slightly for you to yell out in pain.

“This won’t end,” Jake pants, pressing you into his chest, “this won’t end Jeon.”

Yoongi holds up his palms placatingly, while Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from charging forward. But he knows better.

“Relax,” Yoongi says awfully calm, flinching when the gun replaces the hand around your neck. You gulp, screwing your eyes shut, nothing but Jungkook’s panicked expression flashes behind your lids. “I’m sure we can figure something out. You won’t have to run anymore.”

“NO!” Jake growls, “I’m tired of your fucking promises!”

Feeling the gun slide down your throat lightly, you take it as your opening to drive your heel into his shin. He howls, gripping the back of your hair.

It happens too fast. The last thing you remember is being plummeted to the ground with the corner of the coffee table a little too close. Screaming. A few gunshots and then black.

The line between your dreams and reality is hazy. You wake up in a cold-sweat, heart thundering in your chest as you squint into the dark. The cold blue light coming from the window provides little help. The figurines lining the shelf next to you gives you a clue. A mix between a breath of relief and a distressed cry fills the silent air.

When you run a hand through your hair, the throb in your head being a painful reminder of what happened just before you collapsed. You sit up in bed when you hear voices, seeing your jacket hung over his chair in the corner as tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Then, you think of your dream. It was so weird, but you don’t want to forget it.

Jungkook’s glistening doe eyes looking up at you. Except he wasn’t himself. He was a kid again. From what you remember. A cute little boy.

Just as you’re about to stand up, Jungkook appears in the doorway, running a towel through his hair. He smiles, bare chest glistening in the low light, “you’re awake.”

The bed bounces when he sits down next to you, index finger tickling your cheek. You lean into his touch, throat a little itchy when you mumble a small greeting.

“You have pillow marks on your face,” he chuckles, minty breath fanning over your lips.

“What happened?”

His smile disappears, damp towel flopping into his lap, “well,” he begins, inhaling a shaky breath before his eyes meet yours, glazed with tears, “you hit your head and…I thought I lost you.”

Your lips tremble, searching for words, “and Jake?”

He smashes the heels of his palms into his eyes, dismissing your question with a shake of his head. Sniffling lightly, he takes both your hands into his own, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles while you’re trying to swallow the boulder that seems to have lodged in your throat.

“How are you feeling?”

You nod, smoothing your thumbs over his fingers, “my head hurts a bit but I’m fine.”

“That fucker—” he grits, enraged for a millisecond. The crease between his eyebrows softens when he turns to you again, “don’t worry. Yoongi and I took care of the body.”

Your heart stills in your chest, “body?”

He shoots you a tormented look, “I thought you knew.”

“No,” you cry, “I can’t remember anything.”

He pulls you onto his lap, arms encircling your shoulders to calm your sobs, “shush, it’s okay. Jake…he…we tried to reason with him, but it was too late. If I was even a second late…” He pauses, burying his face in your shoulder, “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

You’re at a loss for words. Still waiting for a proper explanation from him.

Spinning around in his lap, you cup his cheek, tilting his head slightly, “what was he doing with that guy, Yang?”

He licks his lips, a powerless look on his face, “Yang was after my father for a long time, so when he heard that I’m handling things…he was waiting for the right moment before he took action. Now, Jake,” he continues, voice strained with grief, “I don’t know how he got involved with Yang, but he knew that we were after him. Yang approached me and that’s how Jake landed up here.”

“Wait, you’re talking about that night? The night of your accident?”

He shrugs helplessly, “they didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Shit.”

“If I didn’t stop Jake, one of us wouldn’t be here. And I couldn’t risk it,” he rushes out, as if convincing himself more than you. He speaks into your hair, clutching your hands tightly, “he lost control, ___. I didn’t know what else to do. If anything happened to you…or Yoongi.”

You spin around in his lap, pressing your forehead to his as you run your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears while yours cascade down your face.

“Baby, I’m still here,” you affirm, “I’m still here.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he whispers, voice nasally and cracked, “you’re my lifeline.”

Fighting with your tears, you take his lips in a salty kiss, heart stuttering in your chest as he grabs the back of your head, angling your face for him to take over, capturing you in his passionate embrace. Your tongues lash against each other, falling back onto the bed where he lays you down on your side, hands sliding under your t-shirt.

His fingers twist in your hair, exposing your neck to his greedy attack on your neck. Drawing out soft whimpers from your kiss-bitten lips.

“If anyone lays a hand on you again,” he grits out, tongue laving over the fresh bruise he made with his teeth, “I’ll fucking…ki—”

His words are interrupted by your loud moans, grinding into his bulge that grows under the thin material of his towel. With the hold he has on your hair, he yanks your head back, free hand grabbing at your thigh that hooks around his waist instinctively.

“Desperate for my cock? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Meekly, your head hits your chin as you nod, struggling in his hold for some friction, heat pooling in your core. You ogle the hand that’s snug around your thigh, humming when he continues to knead your flesh.

“Missed this,” he smirks, reaching up to smack your ass, “missed these thighs.”

Tingles erupting over your skin, you lean forward, whining when he sucks his lips into his mouth, hand coming down on the back of your thigh to have you jolting forward. Pouting, you reach down and snatch the towel from around his waist, reaching down to grab the base of his veiny cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, thrusting into your hand shallowly before he grips your wrist, legs on either side of your body as he pins your hands to the bed.

He smells of coconut, hair still wet from the shower which only has you wriggling in his hold, lifting your head to try and get a taste of the droplets sitting between his pecs.

Lips lifted in a smirk, his free hand travels up your stomach over your shirt, resting just below your nipples, “someone’s being a naughty slut tonight.” He tuts as if he doesn’t enjoy teaching you a lesson, as if he doesn’t love it when you’re completely fucked out beneath him, begging for him to keep going. Or for him to stop.

Heat unfurls in your lower abdomen, watching the way his long fingers wrap around his cock, precum messing your leggings as he runs the tip over your thighs.

“Jungkook…”

“What?”

“Touch me,” you whine, clit throbbing incessantly. He notices you eyeing his hands, obviously aware of how much you love them. Your mouth hangs open when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, tongue resting on your lower lip. Drool slips down the sides of your mouth as he runs them up and down your tongue, eyes shimmering with lust fixated on the motion.

You gag when he pushes them far back down your throat, clothes sticking to your body with the sweat you manage to work up from trying to keep still.

“Fucking slut. Ask me nicely. Otherwise, you won’t get anything, and you’d have to watch me make myself cum.”

“No, no,” you speak around his fingers, slicking up his whole hand with your spit, “please touch me. Please.”

Desperation brimming your voice, he lets you suck on his fingers for a little while, head cocked to the side while your tongue swirls around them. The same wet hand gets you naked in a split second, only your panties clinging to your folds while he positions you over his lap, hands running over the globes of your ass.

You’re grabbing onto the edge of the nightstand, eyes on the floor as he traces the outline of your puffy lips, getting close to where you need him the most. He pinches your clit over the fabric, and you lean back into his hand, earning a harsh smack to your ass. The action has you jerking forward, boobs hanging off the bed when he hikes your ass up higher, peeling off your panties.

He blows onto your cunt, thumbs holding your lips apart while your hole clenches, mouth glued shut with anticipation.

“Fuck, this slutty little pussy is begging for my cock,” he punctuates his words with a slap to your clit, spreading around your slick as you continue to clench around nothing, willing yourself not to make a move because it’ll only be more agonizing for you.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he spits on your pussy twice, the third time a little higher, saliva dripping down your ass cheeks which he keeps spread open with the ruthless grip he has on one, fingers tracing your leaking hole.

“You’re gonna have to wait,” he chuckles, placing a featherlight touch on your clit, “got to stretch you out for my fat cock first. But you don’t mind, do you? You love my fingers, stretching you open until you’re a fucked out mess. You want that, huh? Have you moaning for everyone to hear?”

You’re panting, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ joining the sounds of his hand coming down on your ass cheeks, taken by surprise when he plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, unchaining a range of sensations that travel up the length of your body.

He finds your sweet spot with ease, pads of his dexterous fingers working to abuse it, hot squelches reaching your ears as you continue to drip down his hand, moaning unabashedly when he brings your ass up to his face and suckles your clit between his soft lips, taking you further into the throes of desire.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, grinding on his tongue that rolls out against your clit, alternating between suctioning around your throbbing bud and lapping up your slick, both have you collapsing on the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Gonna cum already? Been so long since I touched you like this and it’s gonna be over so soon,” he laments with a snigger, tongue curling around your clit just as he shoves his fingers into your cunt at breakneck speed. “I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, fuck.”

Your head lolls forward, shoulders vibrating with the pleasure while you’re rutting into his hand and face, eyes rolling back once you take in the sensation of his thumb encircling your puckered hole, filthy sounds of his mouth slurping up your essence only urges you on. His fingers don’t stop for a beat and your thighs begin to shake, breaths becoming weaker and weaker. You cry out when he bites your inner thigh, adding a third finger to your pussy while your other hole clenches with the feeling of his thumb dragging over the sensitive skin there.

“Ah, fuck. Jungkook. I’m gonna—” your eyelids flutter, lips parted when he slides a sticky hand around your neck and brings you close to his chest.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my fingers. That’s it, good girl. Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Hands on his thighs, you lift yourself off his hand, chasing your high with wanton moans of his name. You can feel his cock press into your back, finger and thumb closing around the sides of your neck as you try to stave off your orgasm, relishing in the feel of his fingers molding to your ridged walls.

He turns your head with his thumb, lips grazing yours just as he hooks his fingers into your pussy, buried deep inside while your nails dig into his thighs, your high rippling through you in paralyzing waves. But he doesn’t stop moving his hand, loving the way your thighs and ass trembles the more he drives his fingers into your swollen cunt.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, pained moans leaping from your chest that heaves when he begins to scissor you open. He smacks your hand away when you reach behind to pull away his hand, rubbing that spot inside you with a laugh.

“Gonna cum again? Hm? Give me another, come on,” he’s just as breathless as you, keeping you flush against his chest before you surrender to the feeling and gush all over his hand once again, sighing when he brings your slick up to your engorged clit.

You slide down his lap, given no time to catch your breath before his glazed cockhead hits your chin, hair being tossed over your shoulder as you sink down and take him to the back of your throat. Practiced twists of your hand around the base to hear him groan and hiss, fingers twisting in your hair to guide you over his thick cock.

“That’s it, get it nice and wet for me,” he purrs, hand meeting your ass in a searing smack. You moan around his length, wiggling your head expertly as you feel him grow in your mouth, tongue peeking out to graze the skin of his balls. “Fucking shit.”

He drags you off his cock, painful grip in your hair adding to your arousal, “want me to cum in your mouth? Is that what you wanted? Speak whore.”

“J-Just want your cock,” you blubber, leaning down to lick at his nipples hotly.

He bites down his whimper, reaching up to pluck at your nipples which has you flinging your head back. You grip his shoulder when his nail grazes your sensitive skin, attempting to straddle his lap but he pushes you off the bed entirely. Keeping you on your feet.

“Like a fucking ragdoll,” he grips your hips, guiding your hands to the nightstand as he kicks your legs open, prodding at your entrance with the blunt tip, “waiting to be filled with cock.”

You’re waiting for him to sink in, but he slaps your ass, only the head being shoved in when you jerk backward, keening for him.

“Say it,” he growls, “tell me what a desperate cockslut you are.”

“I’m a—Ah!”

He sinks in swiftly, bottoming out while your nails curl over the wood, holding on for dear life when he draws his hips back and slams into you with renewed vigor. Your sensitive walls welcome each vein, each ridge, each inch. Wet pussy stretching to accommodate his length as your bodies meet in fiery lust. Your nerves are lit with pleasure, every moan ending in a scream when he hits that spot on his thrust, hips drilling his cock to the hilt.

“Fuck, so fucking tight for me,” he almost whines, large hand placed on your back to have you falling forward. Body folded in half as he finds a new angle and begins to thrust upwards. Blood rushes to your head, reaching out for his ankles to fuck back on him just the way he likes before you hear his moans begin to taper off into whimpers and then he’s pulling you back up and you’re tossed onto the bed, head hanging off the edge when he slips right in.

He grips your chin, tapping your lip and your jaw immediately unhinges, flinching when he spits directly on your tongue, walls pulsing around his throbbing cock.

“Swallow it,” he warns, raven hair dripping with sweat that hits your forehead as he rams into you, boobs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Your lips part, a satisfied hum reverberating from his chest.

Your mind is empty. Nothing but the sounds and sensations of Jungkook’s cock splitting open your pussy fills your head. Delirious, you’re trying to meet his thrusts but your head feels fuzzy, getting extremely close to the edge with every perfect snap of his hips. His fingers twist and pinch your nipples, teeth sinking into your shoulder to etch more of his marks into your skin.

“Come on,” he teases, hand wrapping around your throat, “how does it feel? Does it feel good, hm? My cock buried inside your pussy. Want me to touch your clit? Of course you want that. Greedy little slut.”

His thumb flicks your clit from side to side, heady gaze locked on yours with his hips working faster, his muscular body wrapped around yours, “want me to stuff this pussy full of my cum? Hm? Can’t even speak. Tell me slut, want me to cum inside your pussy?”

Unable to hold back any longer, his words pulling that sensation taut in your abdomen until it snaps and you’re trembling under him, walls quivering around his length as he whimpers and curses. Spilling deep inside you when you clamp down on him. Tingles rise on your skin, mouth hanging open in a silent moan. Your ears ring once the feeling starts to ebb away. He pulls out, eliciting a yelp from your lips when he starts to fuck his fingers into you, stuffing his leaking cum back inside your hole.

You’re unconscious for the second time that night.

Something wakes you up from your sleep, and you expect it to be morning. However, the moon is still high up, sitting among the stars. You’re wearing one of Jungkook’s shirts, sore from earlier as you rise from the pillow. It takes you a few seconds to notice that he’s sitting hunched at the foot of the bed, staring out the window with an unreadable expression on his face.

Curiously, you scoot down and kiss his bare shoulder, taking him by surprise. He gives you a small smile, tucking you under his arm as you join him to watch the still of the night.

“What are you thinking about?”

His hair flops over his eyes as he shakes his head, “nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

The same unreadable expression returns to his face and you’re annoyed, because you need to know what it means.

“Yoongi is leaving.”

He’s worried.

“I know.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally saying, “I wish it was that easy for me.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”

He blinks, Adam’s apple bobbing when he turns to face you, “I wish it was that easy for me to just leave.”

One thing Jungkook hated discussing, was his family and their line of business. The fact that he’s talking about it tonight tells you that’s deeply affected by Yoongi’s decision. You are too. You just weren’t sure about how he felt about it.

“You can.”

He scoffs, averting his gaze to your intertwined fingers, “yeah, right. I’m in for life.”

You’d rather not speak at all then lie. But the silence after his statement becomes too much for you.

“Where would you go?”

“Hm?”

“If you could leave,” you continue, choosing your words carefully, “where would you go?”

“Far away,” he says with no thought, “far away from here, from everyone. My family, yours. This town. This life.”

“And what about me?”

At that he smiles, nose nudging yours, “I’ll take you with me, of course.”

You giggle, “and what will we do far away?”

“Whatever you want. But—” he holds up a finger “—it has to be nothing like what we do here.”

“Nothing like what we do here?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing,” you tease, cocking a suggestive brow.

He slides a hand over your waist, catching up quickly, “with a few exceptions.”

The kiss is slow and hypnotic, lips moving over one another like you have all the time in the world. Because you do.

If only that were true.

You fell off to sleep on the other end of the bed, waking up to a yelling Jungkook as he shakes your shoulder lightly.

“What? What happened?”

He’s fully dressed, gloves and jacket on, helmet tucked under his arm. You follow him out of the room, a bitter taste on your tongue. Yoongi waits at the door, nail lodged between his teeth while you’re stumbling after Jungkook. Except he’s still in his pajamas like you.

“I have to go,” he states, rushing out the door.

You grab his arm, puzzled, “where are you going? Let me come with you.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, the same unreadable expression on his face from last night, “no you can’t. It’s not safe.”

“If it’s not safe,” you breathe, blocking your eyes from the brutal sunlight, “then why are you going?”

“Because I have to,” he rushes, faint scar on his cheek much more noticeable now, “it’s Yang.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. Teeth grinding into each other as you try to keep away the tears.

“Is Yoongi going with you?”

“No.”

“How long are you going for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

His head snaps up, gaze stern, “I have to go.” You let him take your face in his heads, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulls away, you can’t keep the sorrow from brimming your eyes. “I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?”

You lick your lips, stepping away from the road, “okay.”

Eyes burning with sadness, you watch him roll away with his bike. A determined crease between his brows when he stops to look at you. Yoongi stands a few feet away, reaching out for you but you’re rooted to the spot, wiping away your tears that worsen the longer he stares at you.

Heart skipping a beat, you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s shoulders when he charges toward you, kissing every inch of your skin available to him before holding you impossibly close, mumbling into the crown of your head. You memorize the feel of him in your arms, the thick leather a little frustrating when your hands skate over his back.

“I’ll be back soon,” he chuckles, squishing your cheeks between his calloused palms, “why are you crying so much?”

“I don’t know,” you wail, “I’m just worried.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll be back soon. You’re my strong girl, aren’t you?”

Even if you don’t want to do it, the imploring look in his eyes has you nodding.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Then try not to worry. I’m still with you,” he says after kissing your forehead, holding up the locket around your neck, “stay with Yoongi. He’s gonna take you someplace safe.”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he grits, pressing your face into his chest, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

As he drives away, you don’t stay to watch him go like you usually do. There’s an unshakable twist in your gut and you don’t know what to do to get rid of it.

It’s not safe in their apartment, Yoongi says. So, as if your belongings weren’t already packed, you cart everything to his van and take the journey to town. Only one man and his promises on your mind.

“Remember what I said about college?”

You hum, watching the trees blur into one big green blob.

“You up for it? Yuri can help you get in.”

“I don’t know. College? I don’t think I’d qualify for a scholarship,” you exhale a dry laugh.

“Who said anything about a scholarship? Check the bag.”

Yoongi wears a smug grin, gesturing to the bag near your foot with his chin. As expected, wads of cash spill from the seams.

“Whe—”

“Jungkook left that for you.”

“Why?”

He laughs in disbelief, “why? What do you mean why?”

Your gaze flits from his face to the bag, the unsettling feeling in your gut only heightening.

“How long will he be gone for?”

Yoongi purses his lips, eyes on the road.

“Yoongi,” you say warily, “how long?”

“Not too long. He just wanted you to be safe.”

You huff, zipping up the bag furiously, “and you think college will be a good idea?”

“Yeah!”

Yoongi goes on and on about the future, about his girlfriend, Yuri. About everything in life but your future with Jungkook. Jungkook. You have so many questions running through your mind that if you close your eyes to keep them away, it only worsens with Jungkook’s sweet face appearing.

Your fingers graze the locket around your neck. His first gift to you. The photo of the two of you from your holiday together fitted in your palm.

As the minutes tick by, Yoongi’s optimism unable to break your shield of grief, you realize that as long as Jungkook is not with you, you’ll have to live with your loneliness.

❝which scene was your favorite? mine was the hospital scene 🥺♡❞ i’m falling hard for this man pretend you didn’t see this

a/n — please, if you liked this drop a like/reblog or an ask so we can chat about it!

⤺masterlist

© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ficscafe #btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #btsgoldnet #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanarmynet #btsdreamcourt #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #biker jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

[ichigomis]

Hello!!! I just discovered your blog and I am absolutely in love with it!! I'm so glad i found you 🥺 and even gladder to find that your requests are open!! Lol jk.

So can I request, a fluff hc or something (it's up to you sweetheart) about meeting the haikyuu boys for the first time? Not really love at first sight or something but, they kinda like find you cute?? It's really up to you though!! With Sakusa, Kita, and Kuroo?? (And if it's not too much, akaashi and atsumu too?) Thankss a lot!!

HAIKYUU BOYS MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME

with: sakusa, kita, kuroo, akaashi, atsumu

notes: OHMYGOD I LOVE MEET CUTES SO MUCH! and hello nonnie ur sooo sweet thank you so much ♥ —fluff! and crack!

❊ SAKUSA couldn't help himself. for some reason unknown to him, he finds himself following you to the biscuits aisle. maybe it was your cute smile or the way your voice sounded just like honey to him—he's intrigued and doesn't know why. he suddenly stops in his tracks as he sees you getting an item off the back of the shelf, a little practice he does too. instantly, he's entranced.

he never planned on talking to you, really, he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. but seeing you tiptoeing with your hands reaching up the top shelf, he just couldn't help himself.

his frame towers over you and his hands easily reach for the back of the shelf. he takes a pack of the strawberry biscuits you were reaching for and hands them to you.

"oh! thank you, and you got it off the back shelf!" the smile that caught his eyes now plasters your lips and he couldn't help but let his own slip out.

"yeah, it's cleaner and-"

"-the expiry date is later!" you say with him as if it was a universally known fact. and at that moment he's all the more intrigued and entranced. he doesn't know why, but to him, all that doesn't matter.

❊ KITA finds himself spending the morning of his weekend moving pots and plants around which was, according to his grandma, for a little flower planting event the neighborhood was doing. he was doing his own thing when something, or rather someone, catches his eye.

"shinsuke," he immediately whips his head towards his grandma who is now grinning from ear to ear, "you seem out of it, my dear boy." she says knowing very well why he was "so out of it".

he opens his mouth to explain but is suddenly cut off, "granny!" you beam walking towards their direction, flowers on hand. you looked lovely under the morning sun and kita just couldn't look away. in fact, he couldn't take his eyes off of you since earlier.

and unbeknown to him, his grandma noticed, "you're finally here!" she strides over to you, dragging her grandson with her, "this is my grandson, shinsuke." with a scheming grin, she introduces him to you. and with an exchange of polite bows and little smiles, his grandma decides to seal the deal, "ah! and he's very single!"

❊ KUROO feels as if he was in a rom-com movie for everything seems to be running in slow-motion. he couldn't see anything else but you—you and the way your eyes creased when you laughed too hard or the way you cutely sipped on your drink. he's blatantly staring and he couldn't care less.

"stop staring." yaku suddenly nudges him out of his trance and he instantly straightens in his seat, clearing his throat.

he takes a bite from his food and chews it in pretend uninterest, "i wasn't staring." he lies which earns eye-rolls and scoffs from his tablemates.

he pays them no mind for he was already far too busy, busy planning how he'd talk to you right after this.

❊ AKAASHI pats the raindrops off his coat, mentally cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella despite seeing the weather forecast. but it wasn't all that bad, for you, a lovely stranger, were beside him. you two wait for the rain to stop, exchanging casual looks and friendly smiles now and then. and despite the serene of the scene, his mind is raising.

should he talk to you? would you think he's being weird? what if you don't really want to talk? but what if he never sees you again?

"um," your voice breaks through his overthinking thoughts like a clear sky and he looks at you, "i'm going to a cafe nearby to wait the rain out. would you..." you fiddle with the umbrella in your hand as he waits for you in anticipation, "like to come with me?"

suddenly, all his doubts are nowhere to be found when he answers, "i'd love that." and as he holds your umbrella up for you, shoulder wet from the rain just to make sure you were dry, he mentally celebrates that he paid the weather forecast no mind.

❊ ATSUMU isn't paying attention, which was, when it came to volleyball, quite unheard of. he just couldn't focus, not since you came into the gym holding the other team's belongings, and most especially not when you started laughing and smiling as you exchanged small talk with everyone.

he had to get your attention, he just felt like he had to, and he knew just the perfect way to do this. he shoots the ball up in the air and hits it with one of his famous jump serves. the ball swooshes past the court, catching the attention of everyone in the gym. and as you whip your head around to the loud sound across the court, the very ball hits your abdomen—its sheer strength sending you tumbling to the floor.

"i-i'm sorry! i'm so so sorry!" you lift your head to see him kneeling beside you, eyes darting from your abdomen to your face, guilt written all over him.

you wave him off, "i'm fine, i just need to-"

"-no! lemme take ya to the nurse's office." he cuts you off, already helping you up and supporting you in his arms. "please, lemme do at least that." with a sigh and nod of defeat, you let him lead you out the gym. well, it was a mission accomplished nevertheless.

p.s.: i made these not-so love at first sight as much as possible but what can i do,, these boys are just that whipped for you

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#✓ pro tip: always get items at the back of the shelf #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq fluff #hq reactions #hq hcs #hq x reader #hq headcanons #sakusa fluff #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #kita fluff #kita x reader #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita scenarios #kita imagines #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo scenarios #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #atsumu fluff

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

0X1=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You were one and he made you both zero. He has it all, a stable life, all that money, a wife lined up, and your body as his drug, him coming back for hit after hit. They called you a bad influence. You called yourself Jeon Jungkook's ex.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; angst; cheating; stereotyping of tattoos; reader is verbally abused by JK's wealthy parents; JK and reader are foolish, wounded animals and act accordingly; rough hate sex (fem reader, biting / marking / scratching, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - exes, tattooed, rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader, ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK's best friend

–

now playing – 0X1=LOVESONG (i know i love you) by txt ft. pH-1, Woodie Gochild, Seori

"I hate you."

"Join the club. Current members, me."

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, kicking off his sneakers.

"We gonna fuck or what?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tell me you hate me and then you want to fuck?"

"Stranger things have happened. I could tell you I love you."

You made a gagging noise. "Disgusting."

He pretended to be shocked. "How could you say such a thing?"

You slammed the door shut and walked past him, not saying anything. You heard him stride behind you, following to your bedroom.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Right, and I'm a dog. We done lying now?"

"You are a dog," you replied, falling onto the bed.

His head popped into view, long black hair hanging down, half of it pinned back to reveal his undercut and two dangling black earrings on his right ear.

"You fuck dogs? Nasty. I'm not into bestiality, sorry."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jungkook."

Jeon Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, adjusting his black turtleneck by hooking a finger on the collar and sliding it from side to side, the small tattoos on his knuckles and fingers dancing with the action.

"Why are you stressed like a nun?"

He clicked his tongue. "Her idea of getting freaky was trying to chew my neck off. Went full piranha on me."

You snorted. "Maybe you deserve it. Would have saved me the trouble."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

He glared at you and you glared back from the bed.

"So, how was fucking my best friend?" he snapped.

You scoffed. "I didn't fuck Taehyung. I told you already."

"That's not what he said."

"So what? I've never seen his dick or had it near my pussy. If he wants to make up shit, that's his prerogative."

Jungkook didn't look like he believed you, but you weren't the one cheating on your girlfriend with your ex, so it wasn't something you cared about. He narrowed his eyes.

"Swear."

"On what?" you shot back. "Your right nut?"

"Your life."

You snorted. "Well apparently to you, that ain't worth shit."

He was reaching for the bottom of his turtleneck and pulling it up and over his head. You felt a tinge of annoyance, seeing the dark, spotted bites on his side and shoulder. He yanked the article of clothing over his head and you spied the one on his neck, a blotted, messy patch of red-purple. It was ugly on his pretty tan skin.

You could do better.

"Your girlfriend know the meaning of sexy?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"That's not what she or your parents think."

"She and my parents can suck each other's dicks."

"Didn't know you liked dick. Guess that's why we didn't work out."

He tossed his turtleneck aside and growled, crawling onto the bed. Large, powerful, shoulders flexing, copious black tattoos covering his right arm and shoulder, a full sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a skull with a knife in its head.

You picked that one, a long time ago.

You looked into his eyes.

He had noticed you glancing at it.

She's ruining your life! Look at you! Tattoos all over your arm and hand! How could you get these ugly things?

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just grabbed your arm and started yanking your clothes off, just like how you grabbed his pants and started pulling them off his body, throwing them violently aside.

Don't you dare speak to our son ever again, you good-for-nothing whore. You think we wouldn't notice your poisonous influence sullying him? It took us months to find a nice, sensible girl willing to put up with your mistakes!

Hands and skin and teeth and hate, tumbling onto the covers, the taste of his flesh on your tongue and his cologne attacking your nose, his large hands gripping your soft thighs, pushing them apart, looking down into those chocolate eyes, the voices melding together, arguments, tirades, chaos, a fucking mess of you biting your tongue while Jungkook stood there and did nothing to defend you.

I hate you so fucking much, Jungkook!

And calling my parents dogs licking the shit off countryside roads is any better? The fuck is wrong with you?!

They were eating me alive in there and you said nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'd go to hell and back for you and you couldn't even say a single fucking word!

You were in hell. You came back.

And now you were in hell again.

"Damn, she must be fucking horrible at making you feel good if you keep coming to me."

Jungkook rolled his eyes and you clamped your thighs around his head, nearly a triangle choke as you dragged him along the sheets, him half-crawling to follow you, shuddering at the close proximity of your pussy to his face. When he spoke, his warm breath saturated your wetness.

"She doesn't even taste half as good as you and never fucking listens when I tell her what I like," he grumbled.

"Yeah? You tell her you like it when you shove your face into pussy?"

He scowled.

"Like I said, she doesn't taste good. I never give her head."

And he attached his lips to your heat, slurping noisily, sighing in satisfaction as you squeezed his head with your thighs, hot and slick tongue sparking your sensitive skin, fuck, yes, this is what pussy should taste like, so sweet, fuck, familiar and erotic, his hands sliding up and gripping your ass, firm and solid while staring up at you, opening his mouth and letting you see the pink, wet muscle flick and dance over your clit, ghosting it with pleasure but not giving it to you, your honey-like juices glistening on his lips and chin.

You clenched your jaw. "Get serious already. Stop fucking around."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

"I'm always serious with you."

His lips closed in and he made your mind go blank, soft black hair fanning out on your thigh, fast, swift, powerful licks all over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks and jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine from your core, one of your hands twisting in his hair, bunching it up, his sharp jaw cutting into your inner thighs because you were squeezing so hard, but Jungkook didn't care, always saying, do it, choke me with your thighs, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die eating you out, his long fingers splayed out over your ass and pushing your hips into his face, making you hump his waiting mouth and his punishing tongue, hot flames of desire taking over, your head tipping back, pulling on his long hair, moans of his name tumbling from your throat, suck harder, fuck, seeing black from the sudden blinding tension, his skillful tongue fiercely teasing your engorged clit in the overwhelming tightness, snapping the strings of sanity.

"J-Jungkook!"

The impossible high, the violent shivers, shooting into accelerated free-fall, your fingers unclasping from his hair and pushing his head into your throbbing core, his tongue shoving into your folds and moaning at the sensation of your muscles clamping around it, sucking it all out, your orgasm consumed by his greedy mouth.

Your name vibrated in your own pussy, delivered by sinning lips and hazy dark brown orbs drugged with lust.

Back then, when it was falling apart, you told Jungkook all sorts of things and he said all sorts of things back. Painful things, hateful things, pitiful things, pointless things, never having a real conversation about how deeply he hurt you.

Only later, a strange moment, seeing Jungkook at your front door, seeing it in his eyes. Something different.

He asked you if you wanted to fuck with no strings attached.

You bit back, as wounded animals do.

Why? You were such a waste of time.

Jungkook didn't know it, but his next words made you agree to this ridiculous arrangement.

Yeah, but I was your waste of time and that's all I ever wanted to be.

When he kissed you now, it was hungry and heady, drunk on your taste and you, forcing his tongue into your mouth and thrusting into your lips. Tangled bodies, tangled tongues, tangled minds, falling into the bed, his hands in your hair and yours in his, whispers of, she'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel, your lips and tongue all over his jaw and ear, biting down on it, earrings jingling against your cheek, his moan above your head as you traveled down, marking his skin with sharp bites and thick swipes of saliva, pretty pink marks all over his torso, contrasting the bruises.

"Of course not," Jungkook panted, a shuddering groan torn out of his throat as your nails raked down his back and then glided back up, fingertips pressing into the irritated skin, soothing it. "She never fucking listens to me or my body because she's an idiot."

You traced the curves of his muscles, lips ghosting kisses, hot and soft and sharp from breath and tongue and teeth, his body becoming yours from persistent, familiar touch, his name in your mouth and on his skin, your saliva dripping over his hard, thick length, and then your mouth was on it, his taste on your tongue, in your throat, and in your memory.

Jungkook moaned your name.

With longing, pain, and love.

When's the wedding?

Next year.

Huh. Good for you.

No, it isn't, and you know it. Bet you're glad I'm going to be miserable forever.

You've made me miserable forever, so serves you right.

"Get off, I don't want to blow my load in two seconds, fuck!"

You swallowed him as deep as you could and then pushed your head down so the tip was buried into your throat, swelling and twitching at the unbearable, euphoric constriction.

"F-Fuck, please, let go, fuck... oooh, shit..."

Your tongue outlined the underside of his length, humming around his cock, rubbing the base of the head and straining to slurp at it, letting him hear you, lewd, obscene, unafraid.

If he really wanted to, he could pull out now.

Jungkook breathed your name, savoring every syllable.

You stared into dark brown eyes, black pupils expanded, watching his jaw flinch and his shoulders shake, black tattoos shivering as you slowly removed your tight mouth, popping it off his cock with a wet plop.

His normally smooth, silvery voice was trembling, the pleasure deepening it.

"God, I hate you."

Jungkook and you could say it a thousand times, a million times, for all of time, and both of you would know neither ever meant it.

I love you.

Get out, Jungkook.

But–

Get the fuck out! You think you can fuck me and tell me you love me? Like that's going to somehow negate all the previous bullshit you put me though? No. Take your clothes and your pathetic self and get out. Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

He would. He did.

Over and over.

You towered over him now, waiting for him to roll the condom down, watching his face as you sank down onto his stiff length, seeing the elation, the gratification, the absolute bliss in the way your pussy suffocated him, tight, wet, his, your head dipping down and taking his lips, yours, fitting yourself around his girth that became harder as you bottomed out, his moan feathering over your lips as you rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

"Oh, fuck, feels so fucking good..."

He knows you're not going to fuck someone else. You have to see other people so he finally realizes how important you are to him.

That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard in my life, Taehyung.

If you don't refuse him, he won't change.

I was never important enough to him in the first place.

Those chocolate orbs watching you, his strong hands on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and leaving crescents of his nails, matching your pace, harsh, deep slaps of skin to skin, your name on the tip of his tongue, balanced in the tightrope of all or nothing, zero or one.

They want me to take over the family business.

Having a trophy wife is important for that kinda shit.

You're the perfect trophy.

Yeah, me and my mechanical heart.

Jungkook switched your positions, rolling over and pinning you down, perfect white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip, the black mole underneath prominent against his tense jaw, fucking you into your mattress, panting, giving you his all, aching pleasure with every rough thrust, your back arching and hands on his long black hair, clutching his head and raising your hips to meet that full hardness and to hit your favorite spot, sending bursting sparks of ecstasy up your spine and into your lungs, rendering you airless.

Nothing but pleasure, nothing but need, nothing but physicality.

“Look at me,” Jungkook rasped, hoarse from breathing so hard.

You lowered your head and raised an eyebrow. His parted lips had small cuts from stress-biting them. His tan skin was as lovely as ever, dotted with small moles on his nose, cheek, neck, underneath his lip, kisses from the moon, not bothering to wear makeup to cover them. He never did, not with you, not when his time could be better utilized being all over you. Dark brows and chocolate eyes, large, sharp, expressive, beautiful, your Jungkook.

Your country, your world, your universe.

You smirked as you looked at that face. He cocked a brow, black curls falling over his eye as you lifted your hand.

“You know what would piss them off?”

You didn’t need to say who.

He clicked his tongue and slammed his hips down on you, but you only clenched around him, causing him to pause and savor the feeling. His length wrapped in your warmth, connected in the most visceral way, his breath mixing with your breath. Dark brown orbs on you, half-lidded and shadowed by his lashes and long hair.

“What?”

You pushed his hair aside and traced his right eyebrow, stroking the hairs of the tail.

“If you got a face piercing.”

Jungkook grinned, low chuckle in his throat. “Yeah?”

You lifted yourself up to smack your hips into him, holding onto his broad shoulders with your other arm to balance yourself, devious smirk on your lips.

“You won’t do it.”

He leaned down, putting more force into each thrust. Your grip tightening, gasping into his face, eye to eye, dragged along by Jungkook’s intensity and passion, breathing in his exhale, drinking in his fervor, blind to the wrongness, deaf to everything but the sound of bodies, wetness to hardness, and the way he said your name, like there was nothing else, nothing but you and him and ecstasy, nothing but the sensation of how hard and how full his cock felt when he was inside you, nothing but how strongly and viciously you pulsed around him, toppling over the edge, moaning his name and staring into his eyes, into the eyes of the one that made you orgasm and mean it with every fiber of your being.

“Jungkook…”

He sucked in a breath and gasped your name, cock twitching and spurting into the condom, plunging forward, kissing you hungrily and deeply, shoulders shaking in your hands, stealing your breath, muffled cries sliding into your throat from his, anguish at the force of his climax, sweeping you up with him.

It was a long kiss.

He finally broke it, heavy exhale against your lips, not lifting his head, his black hair spilling all over your face, not letting you see anything.

Mouthing words against your cheek that you could feel, but it was a silent utterance, a soundless scream into the abyss that he alone was sinking, living a life without you.

Enjoy your piranha.

Ha, ha, very funny.

She’s not gonna notice?

He hadn’t said anything, pulling his turtleneck over his head and shaking out his long black hair like a dog. You had pulled your blankets over your naked body and looked away, not wanting to see him any longer.

You’re trash, Jungkook.

Yeah, but I could buy you a Louis Vuitton bag, easy.

You’ve been hanging around your parents too much. I don’t give a shit about your money or your influence and I never did.

Everyone likes money.

Everyone likes you too. Oh, wait, except me. I guess I’m excluded from everyone.

He hadn’t said anything more. You didn’t tell him goodbye when he left.

You waited until your heart became numb again. Then you mechanically crawled out of bed and cleaned up all traces of his existence, going all the way outside to dispose of the condom and the wrapper so you wouldn’t accidentally look at them in the trash later. You put your clothes back on, one by one, and went about your day. And the next day. And the next. And the.

And.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you would say to whoever asked. You would smile and nod.

Time went on.

You would open the door and no one was there.

You would close the door and go back inside.

You would open the door.

And Jeon Jungkook was there, with a cut on his lip and a black-purple bruise underneath his left eye.

His right eyebrow was slightly swollen, two stainless steel balls connected by a silver bar pierced into the end of his brow. His clothes were torn up, his white dress shirt dirtied and his dark wash jeans torn, brown mud caked on one knee. He looked at you, chest shuddering, wheezing for breath.

“Hah…”

He smirked, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Those dark brown orbs were desolate, numb. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and winced.

“I think they’re mad at me.”

You raised your eyebrows.

He flicked a hand through his now short black hair and ticked his head. “They told me not to show my face in front of them ever again and that I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.”

You leaned against your doorframe. “They took the silver spoon from your mouth over an eyebrow piercing?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I guess it pissed them off when I said I wasn’t going to take it out.”

He made eye contact and you saw him trying to tell you that he had changed.

Well.

Was forced to change, now poor and cast away.

“I know you said I was a waste of time,” Jungkook sighed, heavy and remorseful. “But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.”

You looked into those chocolate orbs that always told you they loved you.

“They knew, huh?”

He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t try to hide it. She knew, they knew, they probably all knew where I went.”

“And what will you do when they ask you to come back?”

Jungkook stood at your doorstep and told you words that you had always wanted to hear, but he had been too afraid to say, afraid of the repercussions, confused of his own feelings, too selfish at the time to realize how much he had hurt you. Time and emptiness had taught him pain and taught him what it meant to be without.

The time taught him how it felt to be not one, but zero.

“Tell them I should have left a long time ago and stayed with you, because you always let me be whoever I wanted to be even though all I was doing was wasting your time.”

He faced you, you and your mechanical heart that he created with his silence.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology meant nothing to you, far too late.

“Now I have nothing but time.”

It never mattered. You always knew Jungkook was sorry from the moment he asked to fuck with no strings attached. It was for him and for you. For him to touch you once more, even if it was all a lie, and for you and your mechanical heart, cleaning off the rust and giving it a moment to feel. He knew. You knew.

Without each other, you were both zeros when you could have been one.

And it was all his fault.

I know you’re not here, but I love you, Jungkook.

You sighed.

Then you shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I got nothing but time too.” You tilted your head, chuckling. “And even now, I waste it on you.”

Jungkook smiled sadly. He didn’t ask to be forgiven. He didn’t ask to be invited in. He just stood at your doorstep, finally able to say the words he should have said. He didn’t ask you to love him. You already knew he loved you. He mouthed it all the time, I love you, against your cheek, after each and every rendezvous, without fail.

Now he had nothing.

But you could see he was going to give it his all this time.

You stepped away from the doorframe and turned around, waving him in.

“If you’re gonna be my waste of time, at least wash your face.”

-

continued in LO$ER=?, m | jjk

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[1kook]

right place, wrong time

— a someway, somehow jungkook drabble summary Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. warnings angst, heart ache, its actually kinda sad :/ lmfao, jk is a little... uh... como se dice.... jerk without realizing it.... justice for oc.... also there’s a scene where oc throws up so !! rating m wc 1.5k

notes THIS TAKES PLACE 5 YEARS BEFORE SWSH ITSELF ! OK ! enjoy <3 i wanted to try writing angst again <3 also i have no self control i said i would post this in 7 hrs yet here i am. and its not proofread <_<

When you were kids, the fact Jungkook’s birthday fell early on into the school year was a huge deal; everyone in your class was invited, both new and returning students, and the event itself was practically the opening scene to the school year itself. As you got older and he began to move away from colorfully decorated parties, his early birthday still earned him a lot of attention, had everyone at your high school congratulating him from the moment the first bell rang until the last. There weren’t any grand birthday bashes during high school, but the Jeons were a loving family, party or no party, and always got him a cake to celebrate each new year. 

Up until you left for college, you had never missed Jungkook blowing out the candles for his birthday. Be it a backyard party bustling with kids or a smaller affair at his favorite restaurant, you had always been invited, always cheered for him with each new year of life he welcomed. 

As a kid, you had always been adamant on getting the spot closest to him as you sang happy birthday, beaming at your best friend like he was your entire world. His childhood photo albums had been proof of that, filled with a chronological sequencing of every birthday he’s had with you at his side, your smiles changing with the times— from missing teeth to full of braces, you had always been at Jungkook’s side. 

As a young-adult, you had to bite down your pride and watch Sojin fulfill that spot. 

You had missed his last two birthdays since entering college. Your first year away from home, everyone you knew warned you about not going home too early into the year, something about how it would solidify your homesickness and you’d never be able to assimilate afterwards. So you had congratulated Jungkook from Taehyung’s phone screen, greatly appreciating the way Taehyung angled the phone away from Sojin as best he could. Then your second year, you had been drowning in that first wave of projects and essays, and simply couldn’t squeeze a five hour drive there and back into your schedule. Jungkook understood; there was no party this year, just a simple family dinner. The video call ended soon after you congratulated him, his attention drawn away by the voice of another woman you knew all too well. 

For his twenty-first birthday, Jungkook was adamant that you attend. He had told you about it before you had left for the new semester, bent over by the front wheels of your car, making sure everything was in tip-top shape before you went off again. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, trails running down his hairline, over the prominent veins of his neck.“I want you there,” Jungkook had said, taking your offered hand as he stood back up. He must have miscalculated— or maybe it was on purpose —his step, because when he stepped forward, he was all too close. He didn’t let go of your hand. “Please?” 

Your eyes flickered over his chest, to his neck. He smelled like home, or at least the image of it you had created in your mind during your last two years away. Home was lavender fabric softener billowing over you in waves, the faint traces of this morning’s cologne, the subtle scent of his metallic work tools. It was his chocolate curls tickling his eyebrows, his easygoing smile, the way he pulled you closer, made the scents wash over you all over again. 

It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook and his warm touch. It was Jungkook and his softened gaze. Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. It wasn’t this Jungkook and the hickey on his neck. 

The sight made your stomach recoil, eyes quickly averted from the site of the crime. He had gotten here later than usual, said something about having to take Sojin somewhere first. So that’s what that meant. Jungkook, unaware of the fact the collar of his t-shirt has let you in on his private life, squeezes your hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?” 

And you were stupid and you were in love, so of course you said yes. 

It’s a cookout this year, his backyard filled to the brim with relatives and friends and so many cans of beer you don’t know what to do. His parents are ecstatic for your return, babbling on and on about how much he missed you for the last two birthdays. You take it in stride, and maybe in a different timeline you would have believed it, but not this one. Aside from greeting you at the door and taking your keys off your hands, you had barely seen the birthday boy all day. You mingle with old friends, his relatives, tentatively sip at your can of soda. You’re tired, the long drive having sapped the majority of your energy for the day. 

Sometime around sunset, you meet eyes with him across the yard. Jungkook smiles, he always smiles. You okay? he mimes with a thumbs-up, and you want to say yes, but Sojin is sitting on his lap, an obnoxiously loud display, and when he puts his hand back down, it immediately finds its home on her thigh. You send him a half-hearted shrug, play it off like you're still a little carsick from the long drive here. 

(Truthfully, you are sick, but you’re not sure it’s from the drive.) 

Even at twenty-one, his family maintains their tradition and sings him happy birthday. With your return, his mother delegates you to cake cutting duties again, so you’re on standby for the song, at his side with the cake cutter in hand. Jungkook is grinning from ear to ear, Sojin attached to his hip, his arm sling around her shoulders. His family sings and sings, and Jungkook is happy. His eyes jump around the table, taking in the sight before him the way he does every year. And when they reach you at his side, Jungkook beams, reaches for your hand beneath the table and squeezes, all the while keeping his girlfriend closely hugged to his other side. 

You cut the cake. Sojin gets her slice and promptly whisks Jungkook away. 

By ten pm, you find yourself in his upstairs bathroom puking your guts out. It’s the carsickness, you tell yourself, or maybe the cake frosting, throat gagging around nothing, tears clinging to your lash line. But is it really?

“__?” someone says, and you make a weak attempt to turn towards the door. You don’t know what you expected— had you actually wanted Jungkook to find you in this sorry state? —but it isn’t Jungkook. “Shit, what happened?” Taehyung worries, hurrying to your aid. And you’re grateful that there’s someone here to help you, to save you from yourself and your stupid, heartbroken thoughts. But it’s not the man you want it to be, and that has you squeezing your eyes shut tightly, until the mascara on your lashes imprints itself against your under eyes instead. 

The man you want bumps into you downstairs, catches Taehyung helping you into the spare bedroom to lie down. “__?” Jungkook calls out, eyes big and scared. “Where— what’s going on?” he asks, thrusting his plate into Sojin’s hands before rushing to your side. He grabs your forearm, and the touch burns, so you yank yourself away. 

Faintly, you hear Taehyung explain. “She’s sick,” he says, pulling you closer. “She’s been out of it since she first got here. I think it was the long drive.” Yes, it was the long drive, you agree. 

Jungkook, unfazed by your first recoil, reaches for your arm again. “I’ve got her,” he tells Taehyung, underestimating his strength when he tugs you closer, has you stumbling into his chest. His rough handling makes your stomach tighten, your head feel dizzy. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp, hand on his chest. “Wait— I’m—“ And he’s trying to move you back up the stairs, probably into his bedroom to lie down. But the sight of the stairs and his overwhelming scent and the hickey on his neck, the hickey Sojin left on his neck, makes you nauseous all over again. 

Taehyung yelps in your defense. “Jungkook,” he scolds, carefully maneuvering you out of Jungkook’s harm’s way. “You’re making it worse.” 

From a few feet away, Sojin calls out his name. “Jungkook?” she says and her voice is so sweet, yet so sticky; it makes you gag. “Baby, they’re calling for you outside.” 

And everyone is saying his name, so he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know who to prioritize, not when everyone wants his attention. He looks at you, and your heart soars for a millisecond. Then it plummets when he settles on Sojin instead. “I— you’re right, Tae,” he sighs, backing off, letting go. “You got __, right?” Taehyung nods. “Call me if anything happens.”

And he leaves, slips his hand around Sojin’s waist and guides her out the door. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even tell you to get better soon. He just leaves. 

Taehyung lays you down, doesn’t say a word when you start crying because he probably thinks it’s about your stomach and the vomiting. “It’s okay,” he soothes, helping you out of your shoes. “Does it hurt?”

Yes, you sob. It hurts very badly.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #jjk #bts x reader #swshd #mine

[jimlingss]

gladiator jk?? 🤭🗡

I’ve written quite a few historicals, but never in the Rome era or quite as far back. So please excuse the historical inaccuracies and all that. I did my best to do a half hour crash course on it.

↳ Spare and Surrender

2.5k || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || Gladiator!AU

Jungkook is a star.

He’s won eight games — five against wild beasts and three against other gladiators where he killed two and maimed the other. The entire Colosseum always cheers when he enters. He knows he’s become a favourite, that there are those who bet their life savings on him, and most importantly, he always wins.

The fact that he’s alive is enough proof.

But in spite of the horrors he’s had to face, of the lives he’s had to take, Jungkook still likes it. They give him a place to sleep, three delicious meals a day, and baths and massages whenever he wants. Jungkook is good at what he does too. He isn’t like those elite men from the senate who rigged the fights in their favour and perform simply for their own amusement. The scars on his body are the evidence of his strength and true victories. Jungkook is talented. He was one of the best during training, heard endless praise and even now the roars of the people make him feel alive. Even when asked if he wanted to be free, he refused. Jungkook bleeds competitiveness and the games have become his reason to live.

Today, the crowd is cheering again. But it’s not for him.

“Who’s up there?” he asks a fellow fighter, Darius.

“The new one. You haven’t heard of him?”

The two of them climb the steps, candle fire illuminating their figures and casting their shadows against the underground stone walls. 

“They call him the Mouse Dragon.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why?”

“Because he’s as tiny as a mouse, but as fierce and swift as a dragon.” The clamour of the crowds become louder the closer they get to the center. There’s light from the end of the tunnel closest to Jungkook and curiosity makes him go closer. “He’s already won five games, Jeon. He might take your place soon.”

Darius nudges him with a small grin. But Jungkook doesn’t take it lightly.

He follows the light and peeks out of the barred tunnel to see you. 

You’re in amber armour, silver dagger in hand as you encircle a wounded bear. It growls, leaps forward at the speed of light, but you don’t evade. You lurch forward and before the animal’s sharp teeth can rip into your skin, the dagger pierces into the side of its throat.

The bear roars in pain and you dig the blade into it before pulling out to pierce it again.

Finally, the large creature drops dead at your feet. The crowd bursts into wild howls and screams. It’s deafening. 

Jungkook slinks back into the shadows.

He doesn’t know how he remained so ignorant as to not know you, to not know a fellow gladiator who won so many games. Granted, your number of victories is far from his, but it’s still notable especially when most gladiators died in their first games and few made it past ten. Jungkook plans on making it there. But at this rate, you might as well. And there was no room for two stars. Not when fame was fickle and he planned to become the most famous.

He allowed his arrogance to blind him for long enough. It’s time to make himself known to you, to show you what a real gladiator is and let you know your place.

Jungkook returns underground, darting past the many fighters preparing for their own matches. He brushes past the guards and trainers, ignoring the cry of the animals kept in their cages. 

Down here, there was its own chaos. Chaos that is kept from the eyes of the public. 

But when he gets to the place where survivors usually recover and collect themselves, the hall is empty and much quieter. The noise of the Colosseum is merely muffled faintly above him.

Jungkook whips back the curtain of the first room, but it’s empty. He turns on his heel, calms down his temper and glances through the gaps of the curtains, searching for you. He sees no one in the second room and no one in the third.

He’s about to relent and look for you on the training grounds later on. But at the fourth room, Jungkook’s vision unintentionally trails through the small space between the curtain and the wall.

His eyes grow wide as it lands on you. Unraveling your chest bindings.

You look up on instinct. Your pupils connect with his doe, brown eyes. A gasp rips from your throat.

But by then, he’s gone. Like a ghost or the smoke of a flame.

Jungkook strides back from where he came from, feet moving quickly. He’s in disbelief, utter confusion—

And a hand wraps around his wrist. In an instant, Jungkook’s yanked into one of the rooms.

You’re panting, chest rising and falling as you hold your bindings to your breasts.

His eyes weren’t wrong. “You’re a woman.”

“And you’re Jungkook.”

He blinks. “You know me?”

“Who doesn’t?” You slip the worn tunic on, and Jungkook realizes how small you really are. Up close, your neck is slim and your wrists small. But unlike the others, he knows it’s not because you’re a tiny, frail man. You’re a woman. “I’ve watched your games before.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are any of us here?” You face him, gaze intense and fierce without once wavering. He can’t be threatened. Not when he’s Jungkook, someone who’s quickly becoming one of the strongest gladiators of Rome. Yet for some reason, he’s held in his spot because of you. “I was a slave and was going to be sold as a prostitute.”

“So you pretended to be a man and train as a gladiator.”

“At least I can win enough prize earnings to pay for my freedom. Or I can die. Either way, it’s better than what was in store for me.”

Jungkook’s taken aback by the determination ablaze in your eyes, by the strength and conviction in your voice. “There are female gladiators, you don’t need to hide yourself.”

“If they knew I was a woman, they’d want me to expose my breasts and fight and no one would take me seriously.” You hiss at him like he knows nothing, “What kind of prize earnings would I get then if they’re pitting me against dwarves for their own amusement.”

Jungkook looks at you — he really looks at you. Beyond a fighter in the Colosseum, beyond a fellow competitor, beyond a heroic gladiator who garners cheers.

He feels foolish.

Small-minded. Short-sighted.

His intentions of intimidation and putting you in your place has long vanished. You and him are so different. He can’t compare to you.

You don’t fight for sport. You fight to escape.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You soften. “I hate owing others, but please. I beg of you. Let me be.”

“I was a slave too.” In the farthest confines of his mind, Jungkook still hears the screaming, the burning city, Romans taking him in the midst of their conquests. And the others. The difference between him and them was that he was stronger. He survived. But he almost let himself forget. “If you made it this far, it means you’re strong as well. I have no business in revealing your secret.”

Jungkook had almost forgotten what life outside the Colosseum meant. He almost forgot the thirst to survive. To live on without needing to fight another day.

But as he looks at you, the memories return. It makes him feel sickly. He pushes them away.

“But for a price.”

The relief on your expression washes away just as quickly as it came. “What price?”

“Tell me your name. Your real name.”

You hesitate before the secret tumbles from your lips. “It’s Y/N.”

...

Jungkook sees you again in the training barracks. Now that your face isn’t simply one amongst the crowd, blurring together with the men, now that he can pick you out by just the back of your head, he often joins you. Whether it be pity or curiosity, he isn’t quite sure yet. But he speaks to you when he has the chance, invites you to sit and eat at the table with him much to the confusion of fellow gladiators, and he trains with you during the day.

He can tell you’re not fond of his attention as it garners the attention of the other men. After all, Jungkook doesn’t often associate himself with fellow fighters and certainly not those that are supposedly lower than he is. But he can also tell that you like his training help. 

“Stab, don’t slash.”

“I know that.”

“But you’re still doing it.” 

“I survived this far without your help, Jungkook.”

“And you’re going to need my help if you want to keep surviving and earn your way to freedom.”

The corner of his mouth tugs when you’re rendered to silence. 

But you’re not the only one to gain from the relationship. Jungkook enjoys sparring with you. He likes it when your sword clashes against his, when your shields are struck. You’re a formidable competitor. While he is sturdy, swift and strong, you are agile and dexterous. He is especially impressed when you tumble away from him like your bones have turned to air.

Jungkook has always liked his women elegant with intelligent eyes, dressed in beautiful clothes that drift through the breeze. You, on the other hand, are rough when you wield weapons. Your words can be crude and he’s never once seen you in finery. Yet, he is absolutely stricken with you.

And maybe that’s why he feels a need to protect you through the fight—

“The Mouse Dragon! The Unstoppable Beast!”

The crowd goes wild as you both enter the Colosseum together. The nicknames given to the two of you are absurd, but Jungkook still feels pride that he’s famed enough to be named.

It was posted earlier today that you’d be fighting together against an exotic animal from the west. A creature with a large trunk, two tusks and whose height towers him twice over.

Perhaps the trainers saw how close he was becoming with you. Maybe the rumours began to take that he was your mentor and you were going to become the next bold gladiator. Either way, you were put together.

Jungkook looks to you and the both of you nod, preparing your stances as the animal is released from its confines. It cries out and decides to trample towards you.

The game lasts ten minutes. It always does and it’s the longest ten minutes he knows.

Jungkook is reckless this time. More than what he is used to.

“You don’t need to protect me—” you spit at him, standing shoulder to shoulder, catching your breaths.

He knows, but he can’t help it. “Who says I am?”

Jungkook strikes when he should be holding up his shield. He surges forward before you can. And he’s clearly more worn than you are. But it’s not for the cheers, not for the crowd to chant his name, and he isn’t trying to steal the spotlight from you.

You narrow your eyes in on him. “I can handle it on my own.” 

You do. 

The creature becomes wounded from your stabs and blood splatters across your face. But in the moment of the animal’s death, it wails out and leans on its hind legs with its last effort. From the force, you’re thrown to the ground. About to be trampled. About to be crushed.

Yet before it can come down, before you can brace yourself — Jungkook digs his entire sword through its side.

The animal falls over. The dust is awakened into a cloud.

The crowd screams all around you and your gaze meets Jungkook’s, knowing he saved your life.

The game is something to remember. So much so that a close trainer, Marcus Namjoon, whispers that the next time the two of you will have to fight a more ferocious beast. The lion.

“How will you manage?” he asks you that same night as you’re seated on the wooden steps.

“I’ll just have to or I’ll die.” The corner of your mouth curls as the light of the stars glow against your face and makes you look like a goddess. Jungkook is sure you must be the child of Ares and Aphrodite. “May the best warrior survive.”

His hand crumples into a fist. He tears his eyes away from your magnificence.

Sooner or later, you will win your freedom or sooner or later, you will die. Or worse. Jungkook knows how the games go. He’s been here for years and he knows why these matches exist. It’s all to distract the public of more important matters and if something happens, if a big enough distraction is needed, sooner or later, Jungkook will be pitted against you.

Then, he will have to kill you or at least maim you. Or he will have to be your sacrifice.

“Take this.”

He drops a leather pouch into your lap and looks away.

It’s heavy and you tug the strings. A gasp pulls on your lips. Gold and silver gleams back at you.

“Jungkook…”

“It’s all of my earnings I’ve saved so far. With what you have, together it should be enough to buy your freedom.” It becomes silent and he lets the peace of the night settle into him.

“Why?”

“Because you desire freedom more than I have ever desired anything.” That might be a lie. There is one thing Jungkook desires most that could possibly contend — and he’s looking at it. Looking at you. “If there’s anyone who deserves this, it’s you. I would not regret it if this is where my earnings went.”

“W-What about the fight?”

“I’ll have a better chance than you do.”

“Jungkook.”

You take his face within your hands to kiss him. He feels your soft lips and in spite of being a warrior, your body is even softer. You feel feminine under his touch and as he years for more, he grabs a hold of your waist and pulls you flush against him. Jungkook inhales your yelp, your tongues sloppy against one another.

A hunger from inside him awakens. Jungkook wants to have you right here, right now. But you part from him, catching your breath.

Under the stars, Jungkook has become entirely enraptured by you.

“I’ll work.” You make an oath to him. “I’ll save enough to free you.”

Jungkook’s never thought of leaving before. Even as a distinguished warrior, when he had been asked if he wanted to be granted freedom, he refused. He likes it here. There’s a roof over his head, he gets three meals and gains attention and fame that he could never get on his own.

Yet, you are a bigger reason than all other reasons.

He has never desired anything more than being with you.

A smile tugs on his lips. “It’s a promise I’ll hold you to then.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook reader insert #bts reader insert #jungkook x reader #Anonymous #Jimlings #LET'S GOOOO

[jiminrings]

omg omg omg... what if jk sees yn WALKING TAE HOME?? like it looks like that but they’re just passing by his place or something and he’s actually walking yn home ?? and to make matters worse jk THOUGHT it wasn’t like that but someone told him “oh yeah she’s walking him home, she’s always done that with him” sorry if it’s not an original idea

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s raining at a party and jungkook gets the wrong idea

“good evening.”

yoongi sQUAWKS at the shock that’s mere inches away from his face, having only woken up from his afternoon nap that ended up with him waking right before dinner

why were you all up in his face

what the fuck was that for ://

“god, never do that to me again,” he grumbles at the abrupt awakening even if it’s his system that told him to, only a convenience that you happen to be there when he was starting to shift in his now-shallow slumber

“guess what!!!”

oh you’re squealinG??? alright that must be good

it’s nice to hear you excited anyways because you haven’t been for a long time ever since j*ngkook lol

“just show me,” yoongi sits up fully from his position on the couch, rubbing the remaining sleep off his eyes

normally, you would be pissed instantly because him not guessing just spoils your whole excitement

but tHIS time you don’t look bothered at the slightest, proceeding to take his faux disinterest in stride

the door clicks open and seokjin strides in like he owns the place, trying to immerse himself in the situation he’s walked on as fast as possible

you squeal in regard, eyes now switching between him and yoongi before you whip out something from behind your back

“i got a lunchbox!!!!”

you thrust the lunchbox (you recreated it in the way you receiver it) to yoongi’s face and he flinches momentarily, eyes focusing on the lunchbox first before his mind processes your words

“that is a really shiny scarf it’s — wait what??”

you,,, gOT A LUNCHBOX????

..... and it’s not from him??

yoongi looks at seokjin and the way he looks perplex but definitely sure confirms that it isn’t him either

“so someone — you received a lunchbox. huh.”

WOOOOOOW

you nod earnestly, admiring the shiny scarf and the handiwork of an embroidery that’s your name on it

“yup! i was with taehyung when i noticed it on the corner of the room.”

oh god

seokjin scratches the back of his head and it’s a dead giveaway that yoongi notices, something sketchy definitely up in the air that shouldn’t be there

“yoongi! come here for a sec. i have a uh, question about weed :-)”

jin is nOT good when it comes to segues

he takes the liberty to pull aside a yoongi who has question marks knitted on his eyebrows, his gaze immediately trained on him once they’re far enough away from you

“long story but!!!!! that jungkook kid gave y/n the lunchbox. taehyung just happened to be there.”

you see

yoongi could only digest multiple things from a single sentence at once

but the problem is, he’s digesting EVERYTHING from jin’s sentence and he didn’t want to

he’s just gonna omit the parts he hates the most :D

“y/n. taehyung gave you that lunchbox. say thank you to him tomorrow morning.”

NO??????

jin sputters because that is clearly not the truth he’s just said

and apparently, you seem to think so to because you just laughed at his cutthroat statement

“no he didn’t,” you heartily laugh, putting down the lunchbox before crossing your arms across his chest

no way

both jin and yoongs freeze this time because does that mean you already know who gave the lunchbox to you??

and if you know who, and if you’re laughing right now,,,, does that mean you’ve already forgiven jungkook????

pls say no

“i already thanked taehyung, yoongs,” you smile at the fresh memory, “but two seconds later, he told me that he WASN’T the one who made it for me. he said he’s good at baking, but horrendous at cooking!!!!”

...

.....

“....... so you really don’t know who it is?”

“nope! not a clue :D”

whew

yoongi thinks you should never get to know who it is

jin thinks you shouldn’t know who it is tHIS early

yoongi dodges the topic easily to refrain from dwelling on it any longer, about to send an angry text full of queries to jin later on

“mmm. what was the lunch?”

“my favorite!!!” you beam and even whip out your phone to show them the picture of the food you ravaged hours ago

you turn your eyes to jin, giddy in excitement while yoongi’s holding your phone-holding hand to zoom into the picture

“and it’s just like your recipe!!!”

.. hehe

..... that’s because it his

goddamn jungkook managed to recreate it like his recipe???? hmm commendable

alright yoongi’s angrily looking at him rn

maybe he’ll send an angry paragraph text this time >:(

“weren’t you concerned like... since you don’t know the person? what if they poisoned your lunch?”

yoongi suggests in an attempt to make you think rationally, away from his insistence that you should nEVER know that jungkook made you your favorite

“then i got a good meal out of it.”

:O

that’s not,,,, that’s not a good answer

b-bestie ??????

both yoongi and jin are speechless and the former takes the lead once more, clearing his throat because the conflict of this lunchbox thing is presenting makes his head ache

“anyways, there’s another party tonight.”

you raise your hand quick in the prospect of unwinding for free

“i’m in!!”

“you should be. hoseok’s the host.”

that makes it even better!!!

it apparently doesn’t for mr. student affairs because jin groans in annoyance, not really digging his school official position because he’d need to sit this one out forcibly :///

“goddamn it. jung’s throwing it? his parties are sO good that it even reached our radar when i was still a senior!”

it it reaches senior-level status of approval then that’s like,,,, the only seal of approval you’d ever need

“no way,” you’re awed at the newfound fact, not expecting that hoseok was already an A+ party-thrower even before he became a senior this year

“even namjoon liked his parties.”

namjoon THEE student registrar??? the same namjoon as in your friend by extension because he’s sort of a friend to seokjin???? :O

“really? even namjoon found his parties great??? BUT HE’S LIKE-“ yoongi finds the right substitute words to a stick up his ass in the most respectful way possible because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, “he’s like namjoon,, he’s the antithesis to hoseok.”

jin shrugs because everyone knows the saying at this point

there’s something for everyone at jung’s

“wear a face mask?” yoongi suggests to jin so he wouldn’t be recognized, knowing he’s a lil upset that he can’t come to this party because the face he boasts about is known by everybody

“no. i’m gonna look like a fucking narc, yoongi.”

alright that makes sense

he bounces back from that, waving his hand to shoo you and yoongi off

“sucks. yeah whatever. i’ll hold the fort down, just don’t do anything stupid enough for me to pick you up.”

:)

you’re not gonna do anything stupid!! :)

jungkook’s too down to even focus at the moment

he’s at his desk and he’s supposed to study for a test tomorrow, and all the material needed for it is engraved in his mind already, but well

yeah his mind’s only fixed on you right now and not chemistry

“she thought it was someone else who gave her the lunchbox.”

jin flinches as his door bursts open, his lunch break sign posted rIGHT outside the door to avoid things like these happening

oh it’s jungkook

oh. it’s jungkook ://

“i keep telling you that counseling’s right next door, kid.”

jin himself digs the running joke but jungkook apparently doesn’t, a sorrowed look to his face that can’t be fixed by some teasing

jin ignored that obviously because it’s not like he’s on jeon’s side!! he’s just here to be as neutral and realistic as much as possible

“and besides, it’s not like you put your name on it, right?? wasn’t that your whole purpose? do it to her like she did to you?

”m-my name...,. i’ll put my name...?”

WAIT HOLD ON

jungkook jolts from his desk, an epiphany forming in his mind

he may not have understood the interaction he had with mr. kim hours ago, but after replaying it in his head for hours now (along with that part of you mistaking taehyung to be the giver), he fINALLY gets an idea

he rushes out of his room and right to the couch where jimin’s sprawled out and watching a movie

“hi jimin!!! is there a party tonight?”

jimin almost falls out of his seat from the surprise of seeing jungkook altogether, gripping his chest

“f-fuck! — yeah. yeah dude, there’s a party tonight...?”

wait why is he asking

“o-okay!! take me with you.”

WHAT

jimin’s surprised that jungkook wants to come with, let alone even ask in the first place

buuuut jimin’s a good friend and he’ll say his assurances first before he gets to asking the why aspect to this

“alright. by the way about last time, kook — i swear i won’t leave you alone this time!! i’m gonna hold my alcohol in and-“

“no, no!” jungkook interrupts and shakes his head strongly, spooking jimin for a second with how determined he looks

“you can leave me alone at the party!! i-i’ll be there on my own.”

this is his idea

he’s a man with a plan!!! he’s also a man who has your eyedrops and the various containers he made with it inside his gigantic hoodie pocket

he’s more comfortable now than he was the first time he came around at a party

he knows you’re here somewhere along the crowd and that alone brings him comfort :-)

“i’m gonna go outside. these vape juices are annoying.”

you huff the moment you get a whiff of sriracha-flavored vape juice one more time, the whole area where you happen to sit in being the most annoyingly-scented room in the whole house

who does that!!!!! who gets condiments as their fucking vape juice!!!!!

yoongi waves you off as he’s also nearing his limit too, his peeve being mint chocolate juice and he’s gonna dip as sOON as this dude at the corner tries blowing it into laughable smoke rings again

yeah that’s what fresh air smells like alright

.... and rain??

it’s raining???

wow you haven’t even noticed and practically no one else did

hoseok’s sound system must be too good for none of you to notice that it’s raining outside!! a light shower that looks like it’s gonna turn into buckets within a matter of minutes

“Y/N!!!”

a voice yells into the street and your eyes widen with how loud it is, squinting your eyes hard to try and see the source

is that-

“TAEHYUNG?!?!”

is he running towards you??

wait why is he running towards you

(tae actually found out about this party through yoongi and he heard that there were non-alcoholic jello shots and mini cake hors d’oeuvres which are his favorites so he’s sprinting)

the way that he’s running towards you and the water that puddles when he steps gives you anxiety, a worried lilt to your yell

“TAE?? BE CAREFUL IT’S-“

taehyung can’t register what you just yelled out because before he knows it, he slips

he slips suddenly in the rain and there’s a harsh twist to his ankle in doing so that makes him choke out

“WHAT DID YOU — FUCK!!^]%{^]”

oh my god

you grab the nearest umbrella in the rack from your right, speed-walking to where taehyung’s fallen on the ground

he’s visibly startled, blubbering when you get to him

“i-i’m not crying. it’s the rain.”

of course :-)

you lift taehyung without much help from him since it’s hard for him to shift his body weight into one foot, putting yourself underneath his arm

“yeah, i believe you,” you smile as to comfort him and he returns it in relief, knocking the side of his head to the top of yours because his adrenaline’s through the roof

“i’ll walk you home. or to the emergency room. your call.”

“ER please??? god, m-my roommate’s into crystals and i don’t think amethyst can help me with this.”

yeah lmao that’s your cue to start walking

you text seokjin to meet you at the hospital instead of here, having to consider the fact that an official from student affairs is picking you up and is indeed your best friend being enough of a shock for poor taehyung at the moment

jungkook’s been looking for you for the past minute ever since you stood up from the couch, following you out the door but uh,,, you’re not here??

who is here?

oh wait!!! that’s vernon at the bench by the front foor!!! he’s from his stem class :D

“was that y/n? a-and taehyung?”

jungkook doesn’t beat around the bush because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, the same guy who’s a lil giggly with the daiquiris at the moment

“hey jimin!! what’s up dude? yeah, that was y/n and taehyung.”

uhm what

jimin’s BLONDE!! how could he get mistaken for jimin?

jungkook ignores the mistaken identity, eyes anxiously pointing towards the road again

“she’s walking him home?”

“totally. she’s always done that with him.”

what

..... what

he’s trying to trust it on good faith that vernon absolutely doesn’t know what he’s talking about

jungkook’s hurt but god does that pain shoot through him instantly, getting out of the porch wistlessly

wAIT

that’s you!!! that’s still you!!!!

and you’re-

????

you’re holding up taehyung and he’s limping

your ears pick up on the sudden running behind you and that pANICS you and in turn panics tae

but that doesn’t matter

it shouldn’t.

the cabs are atleast three more blocks away and neither of you brought a car because the dorms are walking-distance

everyone that’s left at the party has got to be too intoxicated to even put a key in the ignition

the weight on your shoulder eases and it makes you stop in your tracks to see if tae’s suddenly regrouped

is that —

jungkook lifts taehyung by his other arm, the light shower of rain making his hair damp without an umbrella like yours

“taehyung’s hurt.”

it only registers now that you’re seeing jungkook and he’s right here, surprising you as a whole

jungkook’s as startled as you are, swallowing the nervousness upon seeing you to get his words out

“a-and i wanna talk to you.”

#wHAT SHOULD HAPPEN AT THE NEXT UPDATE OMG #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

[junghelioseok]

guarded.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | bodyguard!au ◇ 1.6k [1/1]

notes: this is actually a repost of an old drabble from my two year anniversary, which was inadvertently deleted. so if it looks familiar, that’s why! i figured i’d give it a (super unoriginal) title and a quick reread before i reposted it, and this is the end result. to the anon who originally requested it, if you’re reading this, thank you and ily! 💕

the prompts i worked off of are below:

❛❛ good girl. ❜❜

❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜

the vibe is this jk right here.

“If that will be all, Miss, I’ll leave you to get settled in.”

You remain silent. Reaching down, you unzip your suitcase before glancing over your shoulder at your loyal bodyguard, hovering near the door of your hotel room like an overgrown bat in his long black jacket and heavy black boots. Innocently, you smile at him as you begin to pull out your belongings, laying a few items onto the perfectly made bed.

“Can you help me unpack?”

His expression doesn’t change. But you’ve always prided yourself on your astuteness, and you certainly don’t miss the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Wordlessly, he steps across the room until he’s standing at your side, accepting the stack of folded skirts and pantsuits you hand over.

“Hang these up, will you, Jungkook?” you ask, keeping your voice syrupy sweet and as innocent as can be. “I don’t want them to wrinkle.”

Jungkook nods curtly and sweeps off. You watch as he slides open the closet door and lays the pile of clothes on the nearest chair, carefully hanging up each garment one by one. There’s the blue pantsuit for tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors, there’s the champagne-colored gown for the investor’s gala afterward, and—

—aha.

You can see the way Jungkook stiffens even from across the room, his broad shoulders tensing. You’re pretty sure he’s not even breathing anymore, his tall frame frozen in place as he stares at the item in his hand.

And the item in question? A very tiny, very skimpy, black lace negligee.

Checkmate, you think to yourself when he finally turns around. It feels as though you’ve been playing this game for ages—though in reality, Jungkook was only assigned as your personal bodyguard a few short months ago. Ever since your father decided that you would inherit his company and take over as chief executive officer, your safety had become paramount. You needed the best protection that money could buy, and that meant Jeon Jungkook.

You’d expected someone older, to be honest. Someone grizzled, with gray hair and hardened eyes the color of flint, maybe. Never in a million years did you expect to get a bodyguard like Jungkook.

Jungkook, with his parted black hair and strong eyebrows that made you weak in the knees. Jungkook, with his oversized dark clothes and combat boots. Jungkook, with his muscular frame that’s so at odds with his boyish face.

Jungkook, whom you’ve been teasing for the last three months—with tight clothes and revealing hemlines, and stepping out of the shower clad in only a towel whenever he’s in the vicinity. Ever since you caught him staring at your cleavage—showcased very nicely by the dress you’d been wearing, you might add—it’s become a game for the two of you. Flirtatious glances and the occasional brush of his hand against your back became commonplace. Once, you’d spotted him doing laps in the pool and nearly drooled at the revelation of his fully tattooed arms, the ink swirling across his honeyed skin. When he’d caught you staring, he’d winked.

But nothing has ever happened beyond that—nothing has ever crossed a line. Jungkook is nothing but professional when on the job, and you do feel safer when he’s around. He’s been a silent shadow at all of the events you’ve accompanied your father to, and now that you are on the verge of taking over the company completely, he’s at your side almost every hour of every day. He’s brought you coffee when you’re working late in your office, and made sure you’ve eaten at least one meal when the stress becomes too much. He’s become a constant, reassuring presence in your hectic life.

And now he’s striding toward you, brown eyes alight with a fire you’ve never seen before.

“You did this on purpose,” he accuses, holding up the negligee.

You tilt your head innocently. “Did I?”

Jungkook growls—a low, dangerous rumble in his throat that has you gushing. “You sure you want to test me like this, princess?”

The pet name sends an electric tingle up your spine. Boldly, you step forward until you’re standing toe-to-toe, the pointed tips of your heels brushing his boots. “Have you ever known me to be uncertain about anything in my life, Jungkook?”

He hasn’t. You know he hasn’t, because in the next instant, he’s kissing you—hands curling around your hips to pull you flush against his firm chest. Your arms wind around his neck, fingers tangling into the silky hair at his nape, and when you sigh, he eagerly swallows the sound. Wandering fingers hike up your dress and delve beneath to trace your bare skin, the touch gentle enough to make you shiver in his embrace.

Jungkook pulls back, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. “Jungk—” you begin, but he cuts you off with a kiss, lips curled up into a smirk.

“You want me to be able to take my shirt off, don’t you?”

Stunned into silence, you can only nod. Jungkook sheds his black overcoat and flings it off to the side, leaving him in a charcoal gray turtleneck that’s tucked into black slacks and a silver-buckled belt. Deft, ring-clad fingers find the hem, and you swallow when you imagine what those fingers could be doing to you in just a few moments.

That train of thought is completely derailed, however, when Jungkook pulls off his shirt entirely, baring honeyed skin and swirling black ink to your ravenous gaze. Your fingers graze along one of the tattoos around his left wrist—a trailing vine decorated with thorny roses—and you shiver again when he chuckles and twines your wandering fingers with his.

“I’ll tell you the story behind it later,” he promises. “I’ll tell you all the stories, if you want. But right now, I want to do this.”

And before you can get another word in edgewise—before you can even breathe—he’s pressing you down onto the bed, the mattress dipping underneath your combined weight. His mouth finds yours again, hot and insistent, before trailing down to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder and latching on there. His teeth sink into the delicate skin, blossoming pain and purple bruises along your flesh, but it’s the delicious sort that leaves you gasping and desperate for more. You’re clutching at his shoulders by this point, nails digging harsh crescents into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as he kisses his way down to the collar of your dress and tears it off with a growl.

Cool air washes across your skin, and you belatedly remember that you’d decided to forego a bra this morning. Jungkook is staring down at your exposed body, transfixed, and you flush under the sudden scrutiny.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs when you move to cross your arms over your chest. “You’re perfect. Pretty, perfect, and all fucking mine.”

Then he’s tugging your arms aside and leaning down to envelop a nipple in his mouth, teasing the hardening peak with his tongue. The sensation has you moaning, and you feel him smile against your skin before he switches his attention to its neglected twin. “So pretty,” he murmurs, pulling back so he can blow a cool puff of air against your dampened skin and chuckling when you shudder. “I bet you’ll look even prettier without this on.”

He snaps the band of your panties against your skin, and you whine out his name. “Hurry up and take them off, then.”

Jungkook grins. “So impatient,” he murmurs, but the growing tent in his pants betrays his own eagerness. In one motion, he’s peeling your panties down your legs, tossing them aside. Reaching down, he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock, gaze never leaving yours as he nudges your thighs apart and settles between them.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, breathy and soft. “Fuck me, please.”

He doesn’t need any more convincing. Jungkook leans forward, his lithe body poised over yours as he slowly guides his cock inside you. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he slides home, and you groan at the feeling of him fully seated inside your body, hot and slick and so, so full.

“Look at you,” he rasps, drawing back so he can thrust forward once more. “Such a good girl, taking my cock like this.”

You whimper at the surge of fullness, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him closer. Jungkook’s fingers curl around your hips, and you keen out his name when he starts up a rough pace that nearly rips the air from your lungs. A stream of praise falls from his lips—how good you feel wrapped around him, how long he’s been dreaming of this moment—and you return his hushed sentiments with airy whispers and pleas for more, more, more.

When you come, it’s with his name on your lips. Jungkook reaches his high just moments later, and you wind your arms around his neck lazily as he catches his breath again, brushing a few strands of black hair off his forehead.

“Fuck,” he sighs, letting his head fall onto your bare shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting your nails scrape gently against his scalp. “Done what? Given me the best fuck of my life?”

He snorts out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think that’s part of my job description.”

“Fuck the job description,” you reply, poking his cheek until he looks up, and kissing him once he does. “You’re my bodyguard, right? So come over here, and guard me.”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bodyguard!au #bodyguard au #lia writes #2yearasks

[hskrealm]

Trick. (m)

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: smut, probably some crack

word count: 4.4k (this was not supposed to be this long)

warnings: piercer!jk, tattooartist!jk, some taehyung in the beginning because i do what i want, oral (f receiving), degradation, dirty talk, pulling jk’s hair, manbun!jk, etc.

summary: you did not come to the tattoo shop that taehyung works at for a clit piercing, but you left with one.

notes: for anon ;)

You hum a tune as you pull open the door to the shop, a small smile on your face as you spot that familiar head of red hair peeking up from behind the front desk.

“Yet again, you always find a way to manage to be unprepared for my appointments.” You playfully scold him, making your way over to the desk and propping your elbows up on top of it.

“Taehyung?” You question, standing on your toes to get a better view of whatever it was that he was doing, when he suddenly shoots up off of the ground with a few different tattoo instruments in hand that you couldn’t even be bothered to try and recognize.

“You’re early, doll.” He does that signature side smirk of his and tosses the tools aside clumsily on the desk. He leans in to place a quick kiss to your forehead, as usual.

“You told me to come at six, right?” You question, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Taehyung strides over to the other side of the shop, grabbing his backpack and his keys.

“I did. Is it six yet?” You tilt your head to the side as you pull your phone out of your back pocket, quickly scanning the screen with your eyes.

“It’s almost 6:30, kid.” You tell him, shaking your head in disbelief as you tuck your phone back into your pocket.

“Oh, well, you’re late.” He shrugs, spinning his keys around his pointer finger as he walks toward you. You stand where you are, arms crossed as your eyes trail up his body toward his face.

“You know how I feel about my time being thrown to waste.” He whispers as he stands in front of you, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest.

“You also know that I take a strong dislike to you calling me a kid, ________.” You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away. Though the two of you were just friends, he had a tendency to mess with you like this.

“I demand respect.” He says, struggling to maintain a serious expression. You laugh at this, and take a seat in the chair at his station.

“Are you about to put your stuff in your car?” You ask, wondering why he gathered all of his things up.

“Yes, and I’m about to leave, too.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“How are you about to leave if I have an appointment-“

“Consider this your punishment for being late.” He shrugs nonchalantly, giving you a half assed wave before heading towards the door.

“What? Is Yoongi here?” If Taehyung was about to leave, then that meant Yoongi was still here. He owned the shop, but he usually left before Tae.

You’d grown quite fond of him as a result of all of the time you’d spent at the shop, so if Taehyung was leaving, then you had no problem going to pay Yoongi a visit instead.

“Nope!” Taehyung calls out over his shoulder, the door already open as he sticks one of his long legs outside.

You stand up, preparing to follow Taehyung out.

“Someone’s there to do your tattoo, doll. He’s in the back.” This was news to you. For the many years that you had known Taehyung, he was the only person to have worked here alongside Yoongi.

“You got a new guy? Who is he?” Taehyung hums, carefully considering how he should introduce the newcomer to you.

“His name is Jungkook. He’s a sweet kid. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s good at what he does. I trust him, because he’s got plenty of experience. You’ll be fine.”

“You know that I only trust—“

“Bye!” Taehyung closes the shop door, the little bell above it ringing a few times afterward.

You huff and make your way to exit as well.

‘Punishment my ass.’ You thought.

“You must be Taehyung’s six o’clock.” You heard a gentle voice from behind you. You quickly turned around after hearing his first few words. Taehyung said he was in the back, but you didn’t expect him to show up so suddenly.

“Did I startle you?” He asks, with a curious tilt of his head. You didn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment, so you nodded instead.

This man was sex on legs.

He had a slim build with a cinched waist to balance his wide shoulders, buff arms that were littered in a few random tattoos, and by the way his shirt clung to his chest, you were safe to assume that he had a chiseled torso as well.

“I heard the bell, so I came out to check if Taehyung left or not. I apologize, ________. It’s ________, right?” You nod again.

“I know that I’m likely not your first choice, but I can promise you that you’ll leave fully satisfied. I’m good at what I do.” He flaunts, somewhat of a cocky smirk on his face.

It looked good on him.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“So I’ve heard.” You respond, walking a bit closer to him to avoid having to continue talking past an awkwardly large gap.

He discreetly swipes his eyes over your figure as you approach him.

“You’re here for a piercing, yeah?” You hum in confirmation. Jungkook smiles.

“It’s a good thing Taehyung left anyway, then. I’m much better at those than he is.” You raise both of your eyebrows in surprise, immediately taken aback by his bold demeanor.

You could’ve sworn Taehyung said that he doesn’t talk much.

“I’ll take you to the back, unless you’d like to get your piercing done out here.” You shake your head, and insist that Jungkook lead you to the back room.

The walk is uncomfortably silent. You aren’t sure whether you should be looking straight at the manbun resting atop his head, the way his arms flex as he walks, or the way he moved with such confidence with every step he took.

Damn, you were being a creep.

You almost bumped into him as he abruptly stopped in front of a closed door with a sign that read ‘Knock before Entering’ on it.

He opened the door, stepping aside to let you take the lead.

“Hop up on that chair and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got to get a few things together before we get started. Is this your first piercing? You know, aside from your ears?” You plop down stiffly onto the chair, holding your elbows to your sides as you watch him carefully.

“Yeah.” You respond dryly. He enters the room and closes the door behind himself.

“You chose a clit piercing for your first time? Shit, you’re a trooper.” Your eyeballs bulge out of your skull.

“I chose a what?” You lean forward, as if that were going to help you better understand the bullshit that just came out of his mouth.

“Yeah?” Jungkook is confused at your reaction. “Taehyung said that’s what you asked for.” You wildly shake your head in disagreement.

How in the hell did he mistake a belly button piercing for a clit piercing?

“No, no no. That’s definitely not what I asked for.” You are completely alert now.

“Oh, hm.” Jungkook shrugs as he sits down on a stool, which was placed to the right of the chair you were on. He continues to prepare his tools, as if you didn’t say that you were not here for a clit piercing.

“Why are you still messing with that stuff, then?” You question, completely on edge. Jungkook shoots you a bewildered gaze.

“Even if you aren’t getting your clit pierced, any other piercing will require the same materials.” He states, staring blankly at you. You clear your throat and lean back in the chair.

Now you felt like a dumbass.

Jungkook turns back around, shaking his head with a small smirk on his face as he continues to prepare his work station.

You took this time to stare at his hands.

He had finger tattoos.

Fuck.

“You should definitely get a clit piercing though.” He comments nonchalantly, opening up a drawer and pulling some pointy object out of it.

“Excuse me?” You were baffled. Jungkook ignores your outburst, and nods as he slips on a pair of latex gloves.

“I’ve heard that it makes sex much more pleasurable, for both you and your partner.” You scrunch your face up, wondering where this was relevant to the conversation.

“Even if you decide to take your pleasure into your own hands, it’ll feel much better than your regular orgasms.”

“It’s just a suggestion, though.” He shrugs, turning to face you with his tattooed hands neatly tucked away in the gloves.

You kind of wished they were off.

“Alright, where’d you want that piercing?” After his little speech, you were certain that he had unintentionally swayed you into forgetting what you originally came for.

A belly button piercing, right?

“How...painful would it be to get my—would it hurt, is my question.” You asked. Jungkook raised both of his eyebrows, surprised at your sudden interest in the topic when you were ready to lose your shit over it just a few moments ago.

He leans his elbow against the counter, propping his head up on his hand as he thinks about it.

“I’ve only given a few, since people don’t really come in for them, but it’s a slight pinch. It’s a needle going through your most sensitive area, so it’s not going to feel nice.” He comments.

“Unless you’re into that, I mean. In that case—“

“Nope, nah, not into that.” You quickly shut the idea down, causing him to laugh.

“Why’d you say people don’t come in for them? Are they not common?”

“They’re more common than you’d think, actually. Clit piercings are only confirmed by appointments, so you can’t just walk in like you would for a tattoo. Most women come in for the consultation, and then they don’t come back.” His fingers fidget inside of the gloves.

“Why’s that?” You would have to apologize to him later for asking all of these questions.

“They probably think that the actual clitoris is getting pierced.” You open your mouth to ask him another question, but he beats you to the chase.

“It’s not.” Oh.

“It’s the clitoral hood.” You hum. That sounded much less painful.

“Literal clit piercings are a thing, but it’s too much of a risk. We don’t offer those here.” You felt a bit better about the idea of it now.

You were literally about to sit here and change your entire plan because of a cute tattooed man.

Then again, you were already here. You know for a fact that you would never come back purposefully to get a clit piercing.

Er, a clitoral hood piercing.

On the bright side, if you didn’t like it, you could take it out. So, was there really any harm in it?

There was one thing you didn’t know, though.

“How long is the healing period?” You ask. Jungkook purses his lips.

“About eight weeks, give or take a few.” Damn, well, there was that.

“Let’s do it.” You smile.

What the hell is wrong with you?

“Really?” Jungkook smiles lazily, and you nod, still a bit unsure, but ready to go for it regardless.

“I do have to give you an unofficial check up before I can determine if this piercing is right for you, though. Slide your pants off for me. Panties too, please.” He pulls the gloves down his wrist. You were frozen in shock.

For what, though? Did you think he was going to pierce you through your fucking pants?

Jungkook waves his hand in front of your face to try and catch your attention. Nothing.

“Would you rather me do it?”

“I got it, I got it.” You hurriedly say, your fingers rushing to the button on your jeans.

You pop it open, and Jungkook respectfully turns away to give you your privacy.

You get down to your zipper, and everything runs smoothly until it gets caught.

‘No, not now. Not right now.’ You tell yourself, trying every possible method to get it free. You try to zip it up and zip it back down, see if any material is caught on it, but nothing works.

Jungkook sees you flailing around out of the corner of his eye and slowly turns his head toward you, stifling a laugh at your frustration.

“Would you like some help?” He offers. You turn to face him, like a deer caught in headlights. A faint blush rises to your cheeks.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” You respond quietly.

He rolls over to you in the small stool he’s sat on, placing his hands on the top part of your pants to have something to hold onto as he grips the zipper between his fingers.

He tries to simply pull it down, but when that fails, he applies a bit more pressure, yanking the zipper so hard that you jolt a bit in the chair.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but it’s really caught in there….” He tries once more to simply pull the zipper, but he too grows frustrated and grips your thigh, his large hand clamped around it as he jerks the zipper with so much force that it breaks.

Your jeans pop open, your black lace panties staring Jungkook right in his face.

You were so thankful that you finally folded your laundry.

“Oh, fuck.” He immediately says, holding the thing between his fingers as he shoots you an unreadable look.

You, on the other hand, were trying to make up any valid excuse to determine why his hand was still on your thigh.

“Oh, uh,” He removes his hands from you and throws the zipper away. You have to stop yourself from making any noise that would show your disappointment at the lack of touch.

“Let’s just—get your pants off and toss them aside.” He grumbles, his voice considerably lower than it was a few minutes ago.

You oblige, sliding your jeans and underwear down in one go, allowing them to pool at your ankles before you take a glance over at Jungkook.

“Is this okay?” You ask, your hands covering your womanhood. Jungkook shakes his head.

“Off, completely.” You gulp, shakily kicking the fabric off of your feet and letting it fall. He catches your jeans before they hit the ground, folding them neatly and sitting them on a table in the corner of the room.

Jungkook rolls his chair around to face you, resting his hands gently on your bare legs. You shiver as he makes contact with your skin through the gloves.

“I’ll make this as quick as possible so it’s a comfortable process for you.” He eyes your hands as you use them to cover yourself, trying to decide what the best method is for you to loosen up a bit.

He taps the side of your leg with his hand twice, somewhat of a knowing smile on his face as he senses your weariness.

“Relax, ________. You have nothing to be afraid of.” You lift your head up to make eye contact with him, slowly lifting your hands as your legs open the smallest bit.

Jungkook gently spreads them further with his own hands, eyeing you intently as he does so.

It looked sexual to you, but you knew that he was probably looking at you like that just in case you decided to stop him.

You allowed Jungkook to spread your legs as wide as he needed in order to successfully complete his study of your anatomy.

You were spread wide in front of this gorgeous man, and you couldn’t have been more nervous. Any other stressful moment in your life didn’t compare to what was happening right now.

“Pull your legs up to your chest for me.” He orders carefully, his hands on your knees as he gently coaxes you to pull your legs up further.

“Shit.” He catches a glimpse of your folds through his peripheral vision, although he covers up his little slip up with a fake coughing fit.

“What was that?” You asked, worried that he might’ve needed you to do something different.

Jungkook shakes his head and waves his hand in a frenzy, as if to silently dismiss your question.

“Nothing, it’s perfect—I, you’re perfect. Stay just like that.” He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bulge. It makes your legs twitch, and Jungkook takes notes of this.

“I’m going to start now, okay?” He warns you, bringing himself closer to you as his hands slowly slip between your legs.

You bite down on your tongue as he lightly runs his fingers between your folds. You almost catch yourself sliding your hips towards his hand before you come to your senses.

He was barely even touching you, just ghosting his fingers over your folds as he inspected whatever he needed to.

“Yeah, you’re perfectly okay to get this piercing.” Jungkook asks, shifting around in his chair as his pants had gotten uncomfortably tight.

“When was the last time you saw a gynecologist?” He asks, as he continues to examine your glistening folds. He knew that it wasn’t necessary, and all he had to do was take a quick look to see if you were eligible to receive the piercing, but he couldn’t help himself.

Jungkook thought your pussy was perfect on its own, but to imagine it with a piercing through it? He could cum in his pants.

God, you just looked so good.

“Last month.” You comment, breaking him out of his trance, watching the way his face changes as he continues to stare between your legs.

He licks his lips, and you immediately clench in response, Jungkook’s gaze shifting to you in an instant as his fingers stutter over your mound.

“Last month what?” He says, letting his fingers linger a little too long around your clit.

“You asked me when I last went to go see a gynecologist.” You say, your voice caught in your throat as Jungkook quickly retreats his hand back to his side.

“I did?” Jungkook was swooning. You nod confusedly.

“I’ve got to get this thing done now.” He tells you, although he was talking mostly to himself. He gathers his tools in his hands, your eyes widening at the size of the needle in his fingers.

You instinctively close your legs as he circles closer to you once more, and he places his arm between them to cut your movement short.

“You want this piercing, don’t you?” He asks, voice low and gravelly. You nod, and he nudges your legs open.

“Keep yourself spread, and don’t wiggle around like that. It’ll hurt more if you do.” You close your eyes and toss your head backward against the chair as you feel his fingers dancing along your clitoral hood.

“Slight pinch, okay?” Jungkook grabs the needle, and even though your eyes aren’t open, you can almost feel it hovering over your body.

“Take a deep breath, and we’ll go on three.” You inhale slowly, your chest rising, as Jungkook begins his countdown.

“1…” He grazes the needle over your skin, and you twitch in the chair, your hands gripping the armrests for dear life.

“2!” He says, pressing the needle through your skin. Your eyes shoot open on contact and you squeal. Your legs do close against Jungkook’s warnings, but he forces his upper body between them to stop you from shutting them completely.

He slides the piece of jewelry through the small hole he’d just created, and you bite back a cry as he twists it around to make it sit more pleasantly.

“There, see?” He cleans up the small mess he’s created and disposes of his materials, the gloves following suit.

He instantly pulls his hair out of its bun, sliding the hair tie onto his wrists as he runs his fingers through his scalp.

“Where the fuck was three?” You scold him, as he reaches for a mirror off of the desk to hand to you.

“I never count to three. Take a look.” You grab the mirror from him and position it between your legs. This had to be one of the most awkward things you’d ever done in your life, but the piercing looked amazing.

You shifted a bit in the chair, the cool metal of it rubbing right against your clit.

You choke out a moan, regretting it as soon as you do.

“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t expect that to feel—feel the way it did.” You force the mirror back into his hands and hurry to get out of the chair, but a strike or soreness hits you right between your legs, and you’re right back on that chair where you started.

“I should’ve told you about the side effects, I suppose.” He watches in amusement as you struggle to even close your legs due to the new pressure applied to your clit.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his jaw clenched as he examines your lower half while you try to contemplate whether or not you should get up again.

“That bad, huh?” He leans forward, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he places his elbows on his knees.

You shoot him a quick glance. God, he looked so good.

“Yeah, that bad.” You groan, deciding to just ask him if he would go grab your clothes for you.

“I know a trick or two that could get rid of the soreness.” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?” He nods slowly, standing and tucking his hands into his pockets.

What? Tell me, and I’ll really owe you one.”

“The first is taking pain killers, and going without underwear whenever you can.” You nod, taking note of his words.

He leans over to whisper into your ear, and you jolt at the close proximity.

“The second is letting me fuck you with my tongue.” He whispers, smirking at your cute little gasp in reaction to his words.

“I don’t get it.”

Oh, you definitely got it.

You understood him loud and clear, but you weren’t sure if you could handle an orgasm right now. The overstimulation would send you through the roof.

“Consider it an apology for breaking your zipper, and your appointment will be free of charge since I was a bit underprepared.” He walks to stand in front of you, and you quickly close your legs, ignoring the burn it takes to do so.

“What’s the catch?” You definitely weren’t going to say no to this offer. How could you?

“This is a bit of an informal setting, so, how about you let me take you out sometime? You know, properly.” You smile.

Today had taken a weird turn of events, but it worked in your favor.

“Sure, sounds nice.” You chuckle.

“Good. Now show me what I want to see, ________.” He retaliates, roughly tugging at your hips to pull you onto the edge of the chair, your ass hanging off of it as he holds you firmly in both of his hands.

”You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.” He pushes your legs apart, and you mistakenly spread yourself wider for him.

Jungkook immediately lands three harsh slaps onto your freshly pierced clit. You cry out, clawing at the chair. You could feel the material ripping under your nails.

Tears pool in your eyes. Sure, it was painful, but it felt so good.

“Holy shit.” You blurt, your legs already shaking. He rolls his eyes.

“You didn't think it would be easy, would you?” You can sense Jungkook’s resentment, as a sadistic smile toys on his face. You laugh nervously.

“I didn’t—fuck!” He lightly rubs his fingers over your clit. He was barely applying any pressure, yet you were thrashing around wildly. Your legs threatened to close around his head, but Jungkook had much more strength than you, so it was easy for him to position you how he wanted.

“Is your little pussy sensitive?” He feigned caring for you, widening his doe eyes as he noticed the tears in yours.

“Very, please.” You whine, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“That’s too fucking bad. You’re vulnerable, and you’re mine, baby.” He hooks your leg over his shoulder, gripping your hands off of the chair and slinging them into his hair.

“Pull my fucking hair.” He orders, lowering his face down to your cunt. You gather his locks in your hands and yank them, a bit harsher than you intended to, but this only seemed to spur Jungkook on.

“Fuck, it feels so good when you do that.” He growls against you as he takes your clit into his mouth, the piercing pressing against his tongue lightly. You moan weakly, your eyes screwed shut as he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub and flicks his tongue ferociously against it.

“That’s so good, Jungkook.” You praise him, one of your hands coming up to tangle in your own hair as he mumbles and moans against your pussy.

“I knew I could turn you into a desperate whore for me. Look at you, chasing my tongue with your hips.” He tsks, although he takes pride in degrading you like this. He enjoyed the way your body trembled after every word he spoke.

“Ask me if you can cum.” He throws one of his arms over your stomach, the other pushing your thighs apart as he slips his tongue inside of your warmth, aiming right for the spot that made you twitch in ecstasy.

“Please, shit, I’m so close. Please don’t make me wait.” You beg.

Jungkook is relentless with his tongue.

He slides it right underneath your clit and begins to flick upward, pushing the metal against the bud with every twist of his tongue.

“Cum, then.” He says, as he grazes his teeth across your clit with the lightest touch.

This was the last straw for you, and your back shoots off of the chair as you pull Jungkook’s head further between your legs, wanting to savor every moment of your orgasm before letting go.

He pulls away from you first, leaning over to thread his fingers through your hair. He presses his lips against yours, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. This sends a shiver down your spine.

Jungkook lets you go, before throwing his hair back up into a messy bun.

“I don’t care that I broke your zipper, actually. Your pants have a button.”

tag list! let me know if you want to be on it. (you could send me a message, an ask, or just comment under this fic)

@bitchyaus @dontaskshhhhh @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @multiqueenss @nekee-lilac02 @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03

#blkjmn #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook au #piercer jungkook #tattoo artist jungkook #jk smut

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Love: Part 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down? 

Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week. 

This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of. 

Banner by me. 

Monday: Pitch Meeting

           “Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.

          Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.

          Today, Claire decided, that would change.  She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.

          “We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.

           “I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.

           “Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”

           “Who are those people?”

           “Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”

           “What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.

           “My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”

           “Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”

           “I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.

           Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”

           “I just, I don’t think it’d be a –

           “Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.

           “Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.

           You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.

“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”

           “It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”

           “I do!” Claire chimed.

           “Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”

           “What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.

           “You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.

           “It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.

           “I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.

           Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.

          Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.

Monday: Your Office

           “Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.

           “You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.

           “How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.

           “Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

           Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.

           “I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”  

           “You can’t have one,”

           “Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”

           “I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.

           “Well, I need their handle,”

           “Fine,”

           “And the intern,” Claire was firm.

           You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”

           “Sure thing,” Alexis replied.

           “Thank you,”

           Claire rolled her eyes.

           “Jealous?” You questioned.

           “Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.

           “Great,”

           “I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.

           “Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.

           “If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”

           “Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.

           “Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.

           Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”

           “Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”

           “Okay,”

           “Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”

           “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –

           “I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”

           “Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.

Tuesday: Happy Hour

           “You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.

           “What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”

           “What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.

           “Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”

           Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”

           “You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”

           “Me?”

           “Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.

           “He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.

           “Potato, Tomato,”

           “You should talk-

           “Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.

           “Fine, fine.”

           “I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.

           “That’s a lie,”

           “Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.  

           “Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”

           “No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”

           “You should,” He suggested.

           “I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.

           “Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.

           “Bitchy?”

           “Your words, then she would like you,”

           “She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.

           “He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.

           “Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”

           “You said his name!” Hoseok argued.

           “He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”  

           Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”

           “If he’s not there,” You answered.

           “I can’t promise that,”

           “Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.

           Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.

           “Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.

           “I’ll think about it,” You resigned.

           “Great!”

           “I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.

           “I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.

           “At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

           “Well-

           “You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”

           “I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.

           “That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”

           “You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-

           “Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.

           “Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.

           Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”

           “I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.

           “Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”

           “Because I love you,”

           “Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.

           “I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.

Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office

           “Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.

           “You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.

           “Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.

           “So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.

           “Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.

           “And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.

           “Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.

           “Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.

           Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.

           “What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”

           “Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”

           “I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.

          Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.

           “Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”

          “What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.

          “In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.

           “No!”

           “Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.  

           “I would never,” You glowered.

           “You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.

          “I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”

          “Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.

          “Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”

          “July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.

          “I, I, no!”

          “October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”

          “He started it!”

          “Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.

          “I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.

          “Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.

          “Know what?”

          “About your vendetta,”

          “It’s not a vendetta!”

          “Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.

          “I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.

          “His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-

          “You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.

          “Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-

          “You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”

          “Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.

          “I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.

          “I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”

          You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.

          “You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.

          “We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.

          “You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.

          “It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.

          “This is entirely personal.”

          “Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.

          “No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.  

          “Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”

          “I take it back. I revoke my consent!”

          “It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”

          “Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.

          “You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.

          “Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.

          “Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.

          “You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.  

          “You agreed to-

          “No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.

          It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.

          “I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”

          Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.

          “Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.

          As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.

          “Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.

          “She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.

          “Did you?”

          “No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.

          “Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.

          “No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-

          “Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-

          “Until you what?”

          “Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.

          “She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”

          Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.

          “Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.

          “No, something weird is going on,”

          You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”

          “I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.

          “He makes me so-

“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.

          “I-

          “Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”

          “What if he-

          “Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.

          “Okay,”

          “I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.

          “Thank you,”

          “I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”

          “I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.

          “I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.

          Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.

          “To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.

          “I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.

          “Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.

          “You still live at the same place?”

          “No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”

          “You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.

          “What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.

          “I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”

          “I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.

          “Okay, see you soon, I guess,”

          “I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.  

Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2

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