#boxer!jungkook

[euphorajeon]

trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #boxer!jungkook #boxer!gguk #jungkook pwp

[fics-lovebot]

jungkook recs

main masterlist

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

e.r means established relationship

disclaimer: if you came back to read that one fic you liked but can´t find it, its bc the link wasn´t working anymore so I deleted it :/

yandere / mafia / bad boy

bloody love - smutty, king jk, evil jk, obsessed jk, posessive jk, blood thirsty jk like fr, he honestly loves bathing in the blood of those who did him wrong in his eyes, reader is lgb. this is an on going series but I´LL BE DAMNED IF IT ISN´T THE BEST THING I´VE READ in a minute!!, the writing its so captivating, not a single dull or boring moment, i can´t wait for the next part tbh

romantic dreams - yandere!jungkook, tattoo artist jk, boxer!jk, UGHH ITS GOODDD, he´s so toxic frfr, namjoon is sick of his ass lmao, totally obsessed with reader, jealous and possesive af, he´s crazy sdlfjs but i´m into it

toxic noona - yandere!noona, toxic controling relationship, jk is a victim, he´d rather die than leave, reader likes to make him cry, manipulation

crafting new memories - yandere!jk FR, stockholm syndrome, jk kiddnaped reader and fucks her while making her watch herself on the news,,,her own missing sign

twin flame bruise - twin!jk, jeon jeongguk and jeon jungkook, they look the same but are opposites, the one thing they have in common is you. it´s an on going series but I like how the plot is vvv different from what we´re used to

yours insanely - yandere!jk, serial killer jk, detective!reader, he kills women who look like you

darknet - yandere!jk, the internet is scary, human trafficking, jk is scary dangerous, it´s a LOT, just wow

who is in control? - yandere-ish, lawyer!jk, posessive jk, obsessive jk, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, secret relationship, he´s cray-cray

hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au / alien au

his bunny - smut, fluff, bunny hybrid reader, fem reader, clingy reader

bunnytalk - bunny hybrid jk, owner reader, jk is a sad bunny bc reader won´t return his feelings but it´s all just a misunderstanding

night vision - e.r, alien!jk, suggestive, lowkey smut, bunny hybrid reader, jk has tentacles ,,,,,nothing else to say, flirty fluffy jk, this is dIFFERENTTTT i love it

closer - smut, step siblings au, noona reader, yandere!jk, jk is obsessed with him older step sister, WHEWWW this is intense, very detailed, loved it

slice of life / university au / idol jk

soju - fluff, shy baby hubby jk, reader cooks him his fav meal and he basically looks at her with heart eyes, i love it

you make him go crazy - fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way

you wear his clothes - fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd

all my fault - angst, fluffy end, hubby jk, in which you pass out after an argument and find him crying when you wake up

call me soon - summer break up, strangers to fwb to lovers, obsessed jk

screw up; over wine - finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way

kiss me better -angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way

you´re leaving me - angst af, hubby!jk, daddy!jk, he found divorce papers after an argument and thought the worse, he starts going crrrazy but as always, it´s a happy ending

snowball - fluff, angst, crack, implied E2L, flashback from their college days. this is part of an upcoming series, and I already love it bc wdym it was lovE at first sight?? galaxy in his eyes, artsy space love talks, fireworks exploding in his chest bc ur giggles are his fav soundddd and everything?? I am HERE for it. he lit spaces out, brain dead, no other thoughts but youyouyou and your pretty self

you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - e.r, its cuteeeee

movie night monday -fluff, e.r, he is impatient lmao, clingy cuddly loving fluffy jk

couple questions with vogue - fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute

devoted to trouble - fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS

show you what devotion is - boxer!jk, ballerina!reader, fluff, angst. you´re like his safe place, it´s giving exes to wannabe lovers, they deff like each other and jk wants to eat her uP but he´s wants it to be romantic and stuff, idk idk I liked itttt

you surprise him for his birthday - he´s so boyfriendddddd, this is so wholesome and cute

he can´t sleep bc he loves you so much - now THIS makes me want to drink bleach and die bc of how cute it is, THEY ARE SO IN LOVEEEE, there´s a lot of giggling, a lot of praising, a lot of disgustingly sweet loving talk after sex :´)))))) its such a good read i promise

fighting heart - boxer!jk, fluff, angst, he´s so stressed sldfkj, reader gets in a small accident and jk went crazy when a nurse answered your phone

make a wish - fluff, little smut, best friends to lovers, reader is so sweet, birthday surprise, jk shoots his shot, he only wants to spend his birthday with you

daft pretty boy - basketball cap!jk, classmates to lovers ig, see he´s smart but when he´s with you he gets nervous and forgets how to exist, he lowkey confesses and he´s sraightforward with itt, he´s got a hUGE crush on you lmao

ride - strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, jk is a fucc boy on campus, reader has tattoos and rides the coolest bike, jk has an instant crush, love at firts sight i would say, got him blushing and sweating lmao, this is an on going series but I KNOW it´ll be gREAT, I love it already

in your arms - e.r, fluff, smut, morning secs, waking up by his side for the first time after moving in

encore - game designer!jk, he is cool af, has a fat crush on reader, this is just the teaser of the fic but I really like it

crave you - idol!jk, crack, smut, fluff, hispanic choreographer reader, texting, taejikook, jk is HORNY but he´s a softie too, he´s got a big big fat crush, strenght kink bc we all know he can throw her around like a ragdoll

pretty girl - smut, tattoo artist!jk, chubby reader, THIS IS ITTTTT, he´s tall, dark and handsome, flirty af too, "pretty girl" stFUUUU, they both want to fuck so he shoots his shot at the tattoo appointment

easy - angsty, fuckboy jk, bet!trope, jk plays you so he can get his rent paid, i read this one a lawwngg time ago and decided i was an angst loving hoe

Inevitable - angst, fluff, smut, lovers to exes to lovers, baseball player!jk, dad!jk, parents au, you break up with jk years ago after you got pregnant bc you wanted him to follow his dreams and now he´s back home just to find out there´s a boy who looks just like him.. this is a masterpiece, honestly one of THEE best jk series out there, it has it all fr, the angst is angsty and the fluff is FLUFFY, i love it sm i´ve read it 3 times and never get tired of it

finish line -fluff, nerdy!jk, racer!jki loooooveee itttttt, so cute, so fluffy, this blurb uGHHHHH, just read the whole thing pls

ungodly hour - crack, smut, fluff, college au, broke college student!reader, lowkey slutty!reader, jk is thirsstttyyyyy, simping atp, "who´s dick do i have to suck for a hulu account?" this series is honestly so funny ksjakskjs

ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au

Over The Odds | The Confession - ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series

wrong time - smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life

don´t blame me - sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc

failed quickie - cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!

someone older -smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again

break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au

night after night - smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it

seven plus one - smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it

what could've been - smut, angst, rockstar jk, fuckboy jk, ex gf oc, he breaks her heart then leaves to become world famouse, the sees her again, they fuck, he wants to get back together bc he´s still in love but she does´t want him like that

pwp / fwb

woof, woof, woof - smut, angsty, kinda E2L, jealousy, toxic relationship, teasing , unprotected sex

you good?? - drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak

afterglow - smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone

every side of you - very pwp, he is a rough sex loverrr, he compares readers moans with angelic melodies like??? he´s so romantic like that, but also: degrading dirty talk, he is rouGH alright, straight up clingy bf after sex, sweet loving talk + cute cute aftercare, he is just pERFECT

come sit on my lap - pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEEE :´)

birthday gift - honoring his 26th birthday with this masterpiece, he like to talkkkk ok?? dirty talk, degrading nicknames kinda talk, "dumb bitch" kinda talk, growling while he calls you names, i was shook fr

he has a lot of cum - boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man

riding jungkook´s nose - we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease

fucking in the gym - this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors

wicked - smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading

#jungkook fic recs #bts fic rec #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook seven #soft yandere #yandere!jungkook #mafia au #mafia!jungkook #boxer!jungkook #pwp fics #jungkook pwp #bts pwp

[borahaerhy]

Round Two - jjk

Summary: Jungkook has a big fight coming up, and he's not allowed to have sex for a month prior.

Genre: Boxer!JungkookxReader, SMUT

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Just filth, Jungkook is obscenely horny, desperate, and possessive, mentions of them being VERY sexually active before this, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't), choking? (not really, his hands just there), creampie

“No climaxing for a month before any large-scale fight.” 

A sentence Jungkook had hated the first time is was said to him, but respected nonetheless. He hated not even being able to jack-off for that long, but it was manageable before he met you. 

Then you showed up right as his career began to take off. A lot more of his fights were high-profile; all televised, and a lot rode on him winning - and him winning rode very heavily on him obeying that one rule he despised so much. 

The first high-profile fight he had while with you, that rule wasn’t exactly something he paid much mind to; chalking it all up to superstition. He knew he was good, and having sex wasn’t going to change that, right? 

Wrong. 

He bombed the fight and his manager was pissed, to say the least. “I swear to god, JK, your career will be over if you pull another move like that.” 

So a few months later when he was told about the next big fight, his manager repeated those words to him, and by God, he listened. 

Hated having to break the news to you though. 

“So, we can’t have sex? Like at all?” 

“No,” He shook his head before his expression changed slightly, thinking for a moment before he continued, “Well, I can do stuff to you, I just can’t really do anything that involves my dick, and probably nothing at all for two weeks before the fight,” You sat in almost complete amazement. 

“Jungkook, sweetie, since we’ve started dating we haven’t gone more than twenty-four hours without fucking, shit, I’d be surprised if we made it twelve,” you laughed, only kind of joking as Jungkook smirked, thinking back to all the times you’d had sex three and four times a day for months on end. 

“Yeah, I know, but that’s why I lost my last fight so bad. I really can’t this time,” He spoke almost solemnly, his hand coming over to rub your thigh soothingly; though it really just made you want to rip his clothes off. 

“A month?” You asked softly, almost whining as your eyes remained glued to his hand. 

“Just a month, It’ll be easy.” 

Like hell it was. 

But you did it, and man, did this fight go differently from the last one. 

This time, the other guy was barely even able to land a punch on Jungkook. His punches barely landed, and his attempts to overpower him were struck down as Jungkook was easily able to knock him back down and off of him. By the end of the fight, everyone was screaming his name; everyone except the one person he wanted to be screaming it the most. 

He immediately closed the door to his dressing room, you already sitting on the couch wearing the skimpiest dress you owned, smiling from ear to ear as you waited to congratulate him. He’d been in a near constant state of arousal for the past several weeks, and you, while trying your best not to add to his struggle of not being able to bend you over every surface in his house, were no help. 

Sure, you covered up more, and went out more than you stayed in to avoid temptations, but you were still you. You still made dirty jokes that made his mind wander, you still ran your hand across his leg absentmindedly, your perfume still smelled intoxicating and your lips still tasted like desire. 

So, when he saw you in the room he knew you’d be waiting for him in, showing more skin than he had seem in a month, he cut off your words when you went to congratulate him, his mouth engulfing yours as his tongue past your lips and into the furthest corners of your mouth. You moaned into him softly, while his actions were not fully unexpected, he still threw you off balance before his hands gripped your hips and pulled you into him. 

Seconds later his his hands were up your dress, gripping your ass roughly as he pulled you further into him, his cock already hard as it pressed against your stomach. He desperately pulled your dress up and over your head, throwing it roughly to the side as your hand went down his shorts, gripping his hard length gently as you moved up and down. 

He groaned deeply, throwing his head back in pleasure as your other hand ran down his chest and abs. He moved his head back up, going back and forth between watching you stroke him under his shorts and watching your tits move as you did. 

A wave of overwhelming need came over him, pulling your hand out of his pants before he grabbed you by the hips and spun you around and pushed you down onto the couch, your hands bracing you on the back of the couch. 

“You have no fucking idea,” He started, hastily pulling his shorts and underwear down before he stepped toward you, running his dick along the crack of your ass as he lets out a low groan. “How hard it was for me to not fuck you,” He used his middle finger to pull your thong to the side as you pushed your ass back further, desperate for him to touch you. 

He groaned as he thrust into you roughly, having to hold himself back from pounding into you relentlessly. “Fuck,” A swift slap landed on your ass as you moaned out, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “I had to rush through that fight,” His words were low as you could tell he was trying to avoid cumming too soon. “Because i knew you were back here,” thrust “wearing that,” thrust “waiting for me to come back here and fuck you,” 

He snapped into you roughly, hands on your hips as he thrust into you faster than he ever had before. Your moans were obnoxiously loud and constant, something people outside this room could definitely hear; but neither of you cared. He reached on hand around your neck and pulled you back against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he continued thrusting in and out of you. 

“You’ve been my good little slut, hmm?” he hummed into your ear, his free hand wrapping around you to play with your tits. “Waiting so patiently for me, all for me,” you nodded against him as he kissed starting sucking harshly on your shoulder as his pace became unsteady. “Gotta cum, baby,” he whispered into your shoulder was he moved the hand from your neck down to your clit, rubbing it harshly as you reached back to pull his hair, feeling yourself about to come undone. 

He pushed you back down as you came, fingers digging into your hips as he drilled into you ruthlessly before he spilled into you, his sticky cum filling you up quickly and began spurting out of you, dripping onto the couch. 

He sighed heavily as he pulled out of you, falling back into the couch next to you, his body spent. He adjusted to sit next to him, your legs draped over his as he pulled you into his heaving chest. “Fuck, that was good,” he spoke after catching his breath, his voice low as his eyes remained shut. 

You hummed in response, kissing his chest softly before you stood, grabbing your dress from off the ground and slipping it back on, Jungkook’s eyes low as he watched you. “Ready for round two when we get back to your place?” You smiled, noticing the way his eyes were watching you. 

He smirked lightly as his eyes moved back up to meet yours. He swiftly stood and pulled you into him, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his eyes stayed glued on your lips. “When we get back to my place?” His smirk widening as he looked into your eyes. “Round two’s happening right here and now, baby,”

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #boxer!jungkook #jk #bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #Jungkook fic #Jungkook fanfic #jjk #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jk fic #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts writing #kpop writing #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #bts oneshot smut #kpop oneshot #kpop fic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader

[dollfaceksj]

reminder | jjk (m) pt. 3

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits

➥ CATEGORY: three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lots of arguing, angst so much angst, toxicity, strong language, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, reader gets a taste of her own medicine, slightly aggressive jk (not @ reader dw), cockblocker!yoongi, hater!yoongi, mean!yoongi, yoongi just cares about jungkook okay, another bts member cameo and he’s the only normal person in this frfr, a bit of jungkook pov, quick forgiveness bc they love each other so much guys like theyre such losers omg, mentions of.. THE NECKLACE… sorry in advance, oral sex (m. rec), unprotected sex (dont be dumb), rough love making, make-up sex, shirtless ck jk because why not…, kinda subby!jk for a moment… :D, creampie, mentions of edging, mentions of overstimulation, teasing, imo both reader and jk are extremely dumb in this tbh, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 12.5k

a/n: ah. its the final part. i wanna take the time to thank you guys for loving this three-shot! the love reminder has received really did have me considering making it into a series (i really did) but honestly i think it’s best to keep it a three-shot. HOWEVER: i wanna write a lot of drabbles for it so look out for those!

a/n 2: ignore any mistakes u see or you are cloverphobic. not betaread.

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The distant thud of a car door slamming shut makes Jungkook jerk awake in his car. With a hiss, he slurps up the drool that had trickled down his chin from being knocked out and he shoots upright in his seat. He’s jetlagged as hell after flying out from Australia but he still insisted on seeing you first.

Unfortunately, when he knocked at your front door around 12AM, you weren’t home. Being his stubborn self, he decided to wait for your arrival in his car. He dropped Yoongi off at home and returned, parked in front of your door and waited.

But the sound of that car door slamming shut has pulled him out of his slumber. He looks out of the car window on his side, and there you are in the distance, dolled up and searching for your house keys in your clutch as you make your way to the front door.

Wearing a tight dress, hair did exactly the way you know Jungkook likes and from this angle he can’t see your face but without a doubt, he knows you’re absolutely gorgeous.

He takes his phone out of his pocket to check the time and the numbers on his lockscreen – which is a picture of his hand holding yours – tell him it’s 4:08AM. He’d been here for hours but all of it felt like minutes when he finally set his eyes on you again.

Right as he’s about to get out of his car, the figure of another person walks around the car you had just gotten out of. With a squint in his eyes, Jungkook tries to figure out who’s walking up to you right now.

A man, not much older than himself, holds you by your arm as he leads you to your front door. A frown creeps onto his brows when you don’t seem to have a reaction to this man touching you.

Jungkook watches as you keep digging into your purse, seemingly searching for your keys but that doesn’t matter to him anymore.

With a scowl on his pretty face, he silently gets out of his car and sneaks up on the both of you. He makes sure not to make any noise as he stands directly behind the unfamiliar man. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as he says, “She can handle the rest from here.”

He watches with a stern look in his eyes as you and the man slightly jump from the sudden interruption. Your head snaps in his direction and so does the man’s head next to you.

Jungkook can see the horror in your eyes as you come to the realization that it’s none other than Jeon Jungkook standing right next to you.

You’re staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Jungkook’s eyes trail your face and scan your features, committing it all to memory. Pupils dilated, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead, lips swollen, remnants of lipstick smudged across your chin.

“Who’s this?” the unknown man asks you after the deafening silence that had settled around the three of you, a raise to his eyebrow as he turns his head to look at you.

You quickly compose yourself and clear your throat to speak but before you can answer, Jungkook butts in. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, cockily.

The man slowly nods to Jungkook’s introduction and opens his mouth to respond with his own name as he says, “Hoseok.”

Jungkook nods again after puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance and replying, “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. It’s awfully late, though. You should go home.”

Hoseok turns to look at you with a confused yet concerned look in his eyes, checking with you to see if it’s okay to leave you with this man named Jungkook.

You let a soft sigh push past your lips and give him a nod of reassurance. You place your hand on Hoseok’s bicep to wordlessly tell him it’s okay but he doesn’t look convinced. That’s when you say, “It’s fine, Hobi. Thank you for helping me get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches at not only the nickname but at the fact that you’ve seemingly agreed to meet up with this man tomorrow. His gaze drops to your hand on Hoseok’s bicep and he rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to flex his own arms but quickly realizing how stupid he’s being.

Hoseok nods once he sees the sincere look in your eyes and slowly starts walking backwards whilst staring Jungkook down. Jungkook isn’t backing down, though, staring back head-on. Hoseok clicks his tongue and finally spins on his heels, making his way back to his car. He looks back one more time.

Jungkook hasn’t budged from where he was staring Hoseok down and Hoseok glances at you one last time before getting into his car and driving off.

Jungkook glares at the retreating vehicle until it has literally disappeared down the street.

With a frown on his face he turns to you but you avoid his gaze as you turn your keys in the keyhole, unlocking the door to your home. You don’t even hold the door open for Jungkook as you walk in, heels clicking against the tiles as you kick them off and make your way to your living room.

You toss your purse at the couch, watching as it tumbles to the ground with a loud clatter, spilling all its contents but you don’t seem to care as you turn to look at him once he closes the door behind him, in the midst of kicking his own shoes off.

“Why the hell are you here, Jungkook?”

His brows pinch together at your words, the urge to nibble on his bottom lip starting to creep up his spine. “What do you mean, why am I here?”

You stare at him for a moment longer with frustrated eyes and your lips pressed into a thin line, watching his every move but he isn’t budging an inch.

You shake your head as you start walking away from him but he quickly stops you, hand wrapping around your bicep as he tugs you back. “Y/N, speak.”

You glance down at his inked hand wrapped around your bicep and try to wiggle it out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you.

You scoff, “Seriously? I don’t fucking hear from you the entire two months you were in Australia and you have the nerve to come back and act like nothing has happened?”

Record scratch.

Jungkook can hear the cry threatening to spill from your throat and it stings him as bad as when he was punched in the mouth a week ago during a sparring match.

He’s usually gone for a week or two, never longer than that. Not only has he been gone for two months, he didn’t contact you at all while he was away.

He shakes his head, tugging you even closer to him. “You never hear from me when I’m gone, I always come back like nothing has happened! Why are you suddenly acting like it’s a big deal? We’ve been doing this for two years.”

You press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no real strength behind it. “Because this time, it’s not the same!”

He quickly takes notice to your quickened breathing and the hurt in your eyes but he doesn’t comment on them and decides to stand his ground and defend his actions. “How is it not the same?”

The look of disbelief you give him has his heartbeat stuttering in its rhythm and his throat tightening as it starts drying out.

“Don’t act dumb, Jungkook,” you say, adding more strength behind your push against his chest.

He doesn’t budge nor respond, instead, he continues to stare you down with eyes that flicker with uncertainty and desperation.

You shake your head in disbelief again at his lack of response. “Last time was different. You know it was.”

Again, he has no rebuttal because he knows. He knows it was.

But Jungkook was scared. Terrified, even.

Before he reminds himself of how he’s felt the past two months, he changes the topic. “Who was that?” is all he asks.

Your brows pinch together as your eyes scan his face, dropping to his lips and catching the way he wets them with his tongue, a substitute for chewing on them. “What?” you ask him in confusion.

“Hoseok,” he pauses. “Who is he?” he asks, the face of the unfamiliar man flashing in his mind makes his blood boil all over again, fingers adjusting around your bicep to make sure you don’t slip from his grasp.

You can’t believe he’s deterring the conversation to this, apparent by the raise in your brows and the change in your pitch. “Are you serious?”

“Answer the fucking question, Y/N.” He closes the distance between you two, menacingly towering over you as he stares you down with his onyx eyes.

You huff in frustration and with a shake of your head, you reply, “He’s my friend.”

Jungkook nods to your words in mockery and then reaches up with his other hand, wetting his thumb with his tongue to wipe your chin clean of the makeup. “Friends follow you to your front door at 4AM with the same lipstick on their face that’s smudged across your chin?”

“Oh,” you begin with your eyes narrowed, “don’t you fucking start.” You wiggle your arm out of his grasp and this time he lets you, allowing you to make your way towards your bedroom. His presence is in your wake, following close behind you.

He ignores your words and as soon as the both of you enter your once-shared bedroom, he asks, “Did you fuck him?”

You groan, “No, Jungkook. I didn’t fuck him.” You start taking your jewelry off as you continue, “But friends do share New Year’s kisses.” You fully turn your back to him, tucking away your jewelry in their rightful place. “You didn’t even fucking wish me happy holidays.”

He sighs in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. He knows the fact that it’s New Years is why you’re dolled up, why you’re dressed like this, why you came home this late.

But that doesn’t make him hate it any less.

With a shake of his head, he says, “You know how busy I am, Y/N. There’s nothing more I would’ve wanted than to be here with you, you know that.” His tone has softened and he’s closing the gap between you two but he stops dead in his tracks when your head snaps in his direction.

“I’m not asking you to be here while you can’t. I know you can’t. I’m asking for at least a phone call.” You reach for the zipper on your dress right under your armpit, tugging it down to your hip. “Not even a text, are you fucking kidding me?”

He loudly exhales again, shaking his head as he throws it back and his gaze shifts up to the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows down what he really wants to say.

You bitterly chuckle as you eye the short distance between the two of you – he’s standing about two meters away. “Bet you had enough time for other people.”

Your accusating words make his eyebrows twitch and so, his response is immediate. “I didn’t fuck anyone.”

“Aht,” you say as you hold your hand up. “Don’t you fucking bullshit me,” you add, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

He shakes his head in disbelief, face turning to the side as his eyes shift to the wall on his left. He glares at the wall for a while, his hands on his hips and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Then, he says, “Is he the one?”

Jungkook can tell by the way you sigh in exasperation that you’re fighting the urge to start yanking on your own hair.

“The one what?” you groan in annoyance as you start tugging your dress down your body, exposing your body in a matching underwear set and letting the dress pool at your feet before reaching for your bathrobe.

He rubs his face harshly as he adds, “The one you fucked.”

He’s still not looking at you but by your tone and heavened breathing, he knows you probably look like you want to bend over and scream until your vocal chords burst.

“I told you, I didn’t fuck–”

He immediately cuts you off. “I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about what you told me in the shower before I left for Australia,” he says. Then he repeats, “Did you fuck him?”

At that, you go quiet.

He closes his eyes at the silence, jaw clenching as you fidget with the ropes of your bathrobe and his own throat tightens at how you go speechless. You glance up at him with big eyes and a tremble in your chin.

At your lack of response, Jungkook finally looks at you, eyes dropping to your mouth, not missing the quiver in your pretty lips. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You shrug your shoulders and finally find your voice after what seems like ages. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.” He stomps the rest of the way over to you, menacingly towering over you. He adds, “I’m not buddy-buddy with the people I fuck.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, brows knitted together and a scowl forming on your face. “Drop it, Jungkook,” you mumble, tying the bathrobe around your waist.

He closes whatever small distance is still in between you, his body pressed up against your arm before he leans down to directly say the next words into your ear, “Was he good? Did he fuck you good? Did he do the thing you like?”

You move your arm up, pressing your elbow against his chest in an attempt to push him off but he doesn’t budge an inch. “Stop it,” you warn.

He clicks his tongue and kisses his teeth with a loud smack, still not backing away from you. “Not so fun to be on the receiving end of that, is it?”

He’s right. You’ve been pestering him like that for years, always bringing up his sex life with other people to provoke him, to annoy him, out of your own selfishness. Why can’t he return the energy? Put you in that situation? Give you a taste of your own medicine?

You click your tongue in annoyance not only with him but yourself. Teasing him all those times has come back to directly bite you in the ass.

“Shut up, seriously.” You bump your shoulder into his as you make your way to the bathroom but he doesn’t let you get away that easily.

“Were you together? Or was it casual?” He follows close behind you as he continues to pester you.

“Jungkook.”

He doesn’t care about the warning tone in your voice or the scowl on your face. “I just wanna know. I wanna know if he knows I fucked you all those times too.”

You don’t even respond as you start taking your makeup off, ignoring Jungkook’s gaze through the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, cockily staring at you through the mirror and you do your best to ignore him.

When it’s been quiet too long for his liking, he says, “Does he know you’ll always let me do whatever I want to you?” He begins to walk closer, closing the distance between you two until his chest is pressed up against your back and continues to menacingly stare at you through the mirror. “That you’ll never forget about me?”

You slam your makeup wipes down onto the sink with a loud thud, turning to face him. He’s completely pressed up against you at this point, caging you in between the sink and his own body.

You don’t even know what to say because that’s exactly how you’d talk to him ever since the break-up. You tilt your chin to look up at him. “Stop.”

He scoffs as he stares you down with intense eyes. He kisses his teeth with a loud smack and says, “Yeah, not so fun, is it?”

You ignore his provocations like he did yours all those times and move your elbows up to his chest, pushing past him to walk back into your room. Jungkook is aware that you’re constantly creating extra space between the two of you because his proximity will have you bending to his will.

He stays back this time, just quietly watching as you get ready for bed. He can’t ignore the sinking heart in his chest as your bottom lip quivers and your breath has gotten shaky, he can never be mean to you for long and he knows that.

He deeply sighs and shakes his head at his own antics. “Come here,” he mumbles as he makes his way to you.

You don’t respond, you just keep your back turned to him as you prepare your pillows and sheets.

He quietly sighs to himself as he wraps his arms around you from the back, halting you in your movements.

He turns your body to make you face him, his big hands firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things.” He leans into the crook of your neck and nudges your ear with the tip of his nose. “You drive me crazy and it’s making me act a fool.”

Your arms stay limp by your side, your way of telling him you’re still mad at him but you turn your face slightly to give him more access to your neck like you’ll always do.

“I fucking hate how much I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbones, fingers digging through the fabric of your bathrobe to grip your hips tightly.

You sigh softly at the sensation of his lips on your skin again, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know, baby.” His voice is muffled by your neck but you feel the smile on his lips against your skin. “Didn’t like the taste of your own medicine?”

You grunt in response, pinching his biceps which makes him hiss and chuckle before pulling away from your neck to glance down at you.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he asks you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones as his pretty black eyes roam your features.

“No,” you reply, moving your hands up to his chest and rubbing circles through his shirt.

His lips pucker up in a childish pout but he doesn’t push it any further, your proximity is enough for him.

“What’s the magic word?” you say.

His chest puffs as he chuckles, shaking his head. “Will you let me kiss you, please?”

You huff like a little kid that’s just finished throwing a tantrum but you nod your head to his question nonetheless, hands moving up to cup his cheeks.

His face closes in on yours and he presses his lips to your attention-seeking ones. He melts into your kiss, hands traveling up your sides to hold your waist tightly.

It’s been too long since he last saw you, so kissing you feels like a thousand years ago. He makes the most of it as he tightly holds onto your waist as if you don’t have breakable bones, as if you’ll slip through his fingers, as if you’ll disappear into thin air.

He slowly pulls back from your kiss. “I have something to show you,” he says as he reaches for something in his pocket. His phone seems to be in the way so he takes it out of his pocket and hands it to you so you can hold it while he searches for what he so desperately wants to show you.

You glance down at the screen as it automatically lights up and your eyes mindlessly drop down to the 3 hours old notifications.

[1:02AM]

René (AUS)

Are you still at the same hotel? Want me to come over?

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (1)

He watches your face twist into confusion and pain as his own eyes drop to where you’re looking at, the realization dawning on him like he got hit by a fucking train.

Jungkook’s body tenses up under your touch. His other hand drops from your hip and your eyes slowly trail to look up at him.

In a panic, he quickly says, “I swear, it’s not what you think. I swea–”

You don’t let him finish as you slam his phone into his chest and directly stare into his concerned eyes. “Fuck you.”

The way you say it with so much venom in your voice knocks the air directly out of Jungkook’s lungs.

He can hear an imaginary record scratch when you point toward your door and say, “Get out.”

Jungkook is stunned.

You have never made him leave.

You have never told him to just get out.

And for some reason, the ‘get out’ hurts even more than the vicious ‘fuck you’.

“Y/N–”

“Out.”

Jungkook shakes his head, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Don’t make me leave. Please.”

You immediately reply, “I want you to leave. Right now.”

He stares at the wall for a few moments as he gathers his thoughts. You stare at his side profile for a few seconds before you spin on your heels and head towards your bed.

As you plop down on your bed, you’re just in time to watch Jungkook dig in the pocket of his sweatpants and roughly throw something across the room, aimed right at the wall to your right.

You flinch at the clatter of a small box being smashed against the wall and turn to look at him with a frown etched onto your features.

He has never shown you any aggressiveness ever so you’re shocked at the sudden switch. “What the hell, Jungkook?”

He tugs on his long black locks before he quietly curses and turns, loudly stomping out of your room. The shuffling of him putting his shoes on reaches your ears and before you know it, the front door has been slammed shut.

Your hand sits on your chest, right over where your pounding heart is. You’re not scared of Jungkook and never will be but there’s a reason you don’t go to his matches. You don’t like seeing the boy with the entire galaxy in his eyes be aggressive, be angry, be consumed by hate.

When you’ve finally composed yourself, you take a few breaths to steady your ragged breathing. You deeply exhale and get up from your bed, walking over to the mini box and its spilled contents.

The small blue box is on its side, wide open and something shiny is sprawled out next to it.

Small tear shaped sapphire earrings that would fit perfectly with your estranged necklace.

The words – which you recognize as Jungkook’s handwriting – on the neon pink post-it that’s stuck to the inside of the lid shatters your heart into a million pieces.

‘Be my girlfriend (again)? :)’

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[6:30PM]

Hobi

I’m outside ^_^

You smile at your phone and apply your lip gloss as your finishing touch. With a final glance in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a nod before heading into the hall and sliding your feet into your pumps.

You leave your home after locking up and quickly make your way down to the vehicle in front of your home before hopping into Hobi’s car, leaning over to give him a greeting hug.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he leans back and starts accelerating after you’ve closed the car door.

“Yeah. You?” you say as you buckle your seatbelt and open up the interior mirror above your head to check your makeup again.

“I’m fine.” He slows down in front of a red light and glances over at you. “What was all that about?”

“What?” you ask, already knowing what he’s talking about as you continue to check your teeth and waterline, ignoring the persistent lump that’s forming in your throat.

“Yesterday.” He returns his gaze to the road in front of him. “Well, more like this morning.”

You sigh and close the mirror, slouching in your seat as you glance over at him. “I’m sorry about that, Hoseok.”

Even if Hoseok was just helping you get inside, you feel bad about sending him away like that.

A chuckle leaves his mouth. “I know you are, I just thought I was seconds away from being decked in the mouth.”

You look out the window, pressing your lips together in an attempt at blending your gloss with your peachy nude lip combo.

“I know. Jungkook is just,” you pause, rubbing the scrunch between your brows.

He accelerates once the light jumps to green. “Is he the boxer?”

You merely hum in response, picking at the loose flesh around your manicured nails.

“You love him, right?” Hoseok’s question knocks the air right out of your lungs. The lump that had started forming in your throat has lodged down your esophagus and has unleashed a stream of lava that causes your heart to burn.

Your lack of response makes him nod his head, his hand coming to his jaw and rubbing his freshly shaven chin.

“And he certainly didn’t seem happy to see me,” he chuckles as he recalls the events of this morning.

“Yeah, well.” You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. “He can’t just show up at my front door after two months of not talking to me.”

“Two months?” he repeats, leaning his left elbow against the window next to him and rubbing his chin with his hand whilst his other hand manages the gear shift and steering wheel.

You nod and cross your arms over your shoulders, adjusting the belt that’s digging into your neck.

He asks, “What was he doing for two months?”

You explain the events that happened two months ago, from Jungkook showing up to you telling him for the first time (again) that you love him. You explain the entire history between you and Jungkook, all the problems, all the love, all the pain, everything.

Hoseok knew you were still head over heels in love with an ex-boyfriend that also happened to be a professional boxer but he never pried. However, as he witnessed that embarrassing moment firsthand, you’re of the opinion that you owe him an explanation.

“Hm.” He thinks about what you just told him for a few moments, seemingly in deep thought. Unfortunately, you know Hoseok well enough to know when he wants to say something.

You turn your head to look at him, chest already tightening at the thought of him not agreeing with you. “You’ve got something to say.”

He looks at you for a moment before glancing back at the road. “I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

The raise in your brows indicates intrigue and surprise at his words. “Well, now you have to say it.”

He chuckles at the switch in your tone and parks in the theater’s parking lot before turning to look at you again. “To me, it just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.”

“Suffocate me? He’s not going to suffocate me by texting me once in two months, Hobi.”

“No, I get that, and he is incredibly stupid for that but it seems to me like he’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything?” he explains, his point of view being a reminder that not everything may be what it initially seems to you.

You furrow your brows and part your lips to argue but Hoseok cuts you off before you can.

“What did he say after I left? Did he seem different?”

You think about it for a while. Yes, he did seem different, now that you think about it.

And then you’re reminded of Jungkook’s gift and his question. And at that, a surge of guilt spreads through your chest and starts bubbling up your throat.

“He, uh,” you start as you clear your throat, “he just asked who you were. The usual ex-boyfriend stuff. But he did kind of ask me to be his girlfriend again.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and then turns to you. “So, I take it y’all made up, then.”

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze as you open up the mirror again to check if there’s anything in between your teeth to pretend you don’t care. “I told him to leave.”

“Why?” His brows are pinched together in confusion and you can see him aiming his frown at you in your peripheral vision.

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly again, hoping to appear unbothered. “I saw his phone, one of his groupies texted him. Just wasn’t in the mood.”

“Did he text them or did they text him?”

You slowly turn to look at him as a frown climbs its way onto your brows. “What?”

Hoseok stares at your for a few moments in silence before repeating his question, “Did he text them?”

You idly blink at him, the image of Jungkook’s face when he swore it wasn’t what it looked like flashing in your mind. Fuck.

You quickly compose yourself and say, “I don’t know.”

Hoseok blinks at you for a few times with a slight pinch in his brows before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“You want to say something again,” you groan loudly, rubbing the scrunch on your forehead to prepare yourself for what he has to say now.

Surprisingly, he chooses not to. “I’m not going to this time.” A chuckle leaves his mouth after he says that, shaking his head in the process. “Let’s go, the movie is about to start.”

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Australia, 1 week ago

With a big gulp, Jungkook slams his glass down onto the wooden surface of the bar he’s sitting at. He winces at the burning liquid sliding down his esophagus, bringing his hand up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He stares at his lockscreen, a smile creeping on his lips at the picture. His eyes trail your fingers and your hand, how well they fit in his.

With a tilt of his phone, he unlocks it using Face ID and opens the message app. He scrolls until he sees your name, it’s been over a year since either of you last texted each other. Like mentioned before, he always comes back unannounced and you always act like nothing has happened.

It’s how it’s been for two damn years.

His fingers slowly start hovering over your contact name. Should he text you? Should he not?

He shouldn’t. You told him the two of you would talk about it when he’s back. Maybe he’d scare you off if he were to text you right now.

Besides, he’d be back in town in five days anyways.

Right as he locks his phone again, he’s dragged out of his thoughts when a hand squeezes his bicep.

He snaps his head in the person’s direction.

“You gonna keep acting like you don’t see me?” Ashley – an ‘acquaintance’ of Jungkook’s – says as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear.

(Read: acquaintance meaning a person he’d usually fuck if he was back in their country.)

“Oh,” he mumbles, his arm tensing up under her touch. Not to flex his arm but because he doesn’t want her touching him. “Ashley, right?”

“Hm,” she hums as she drops her hand from his arm, swiveling in her stool to face him, her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. “Doing anything tonight?”

He shakes his head as he continues to stare at the ice ball in his glass, his fingers fidgeting with the rim.

“Wanna do me?” she suggests, her feet making their way to rub up and down his calves in a teasing way.

He instantly regrets all the times he had her bent over his hotel couch, pounding into her from behind and kept his eyes shut to imagine he was fucking you.

He quietly exhales and rubs his eyes with the back of the knuckle of his index fingers as he looks for an excuse to reject her. “I don’t have any protection on me,” he mumbles, hoping she’ll get the hint.

Jungkook is responsible when it comes to his sex life. He’s quite literally always carrying protection. The only person he had ever fucked raw and would continue to do so are you.

So, these past two months he’d been walking around with nothing of the sort because he didn’t feel the need to. Now that there was that blossoming chance that he’d get back together with you, he’d wait for you.

He doesn’t want anyone else moaning his name, he doesn’t want to hold onto anyone else’s hips while pounding into them, he doesn’t want anyone but you.

“We could pass a nightshop on the way to my apartment,” she offers, her hand coming back to his bicep and sliding up his shoulder to his neck, the tips of her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

The thought of anyone else touching him right now has goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of his skin and not in a good way.

“Let me use the restroom first,” he says as he gets up from his stool, subtly shrugging her hand off his neck in the meantime.

He looks her way for the first time since acknowledging her at the start and gives her the fakest smile he can muster. He walks around her and disappears in the sea of bodies that had started growing behind them.

He quietly makes his exit through a backdoor, standing in front of the building with his back to the door as it shuts loudly behind him. He tilts his head back and allows the infinite soft rain droplets to gently kiss his face and neck.

After a few more moments of enjoying the rain and distant booming music, he whistles at a taxi that he sees passing by and jogs toward it, hopping in the back before anyone else catches him.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

present

Damn Hoseok.

It just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.

He’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything.

Did he text them?

Should you have heard him out?

You couldn’t even focus on that damn movie. Hoseok’s words and input kept clouding your mind, kept reminding you of maybe – just maybe – you were being unreasonable.

No, you’re not at fault for being upset that he didn’t say a word for two months.

You still think he’s an idiot for that.

Even if it’s been like that for the past two years. This time it was different and you’re not going to let anyone gaslight you into thinking it wasn’t.

But with how well you know his heart, his love, his passion for you, you should’ve known better. You don’t even know how long he’d been waiting in front of your door on New Years.

And there you were during New Years, opening up your front door with a man in your wake that had been in your (once Jungkook’s) bed.

You and Hoseok met at a party of a mutual friend one night and immediately hit it off. For the first time since Jungkook (about a year and a half after the break-up), you finally allowed yourself to let loose and do the thing Jungkook did to get his mind off of you.

You ended up having casual hook-ups with Hoseok, and goodness, was he amazing.

He fucked you good, touched you in the right places, said the right things, did everything right.

But he wasn’t him.

So, after about four months, you’d called it quits. Hoseok, being the amazing person he is, didn’t pry but insisted on staying friends and being there for you.

And that brings you back to the conversation you had with him in the car on your way to the movies.

He didn’t excuse Jungkook’s behavior but he made some good points, and damn him for that. Because now you can’t stop thinking about it. All of it. The worst being that Jungkook had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend again on New Years.

And thanks to all of that thinking, you find yourself in front of Min Yoongi’s front door a few days later.

Since you broke up with Jungkook, he never bothered to find a new place since he’s gone a lot. So, you assume he must be crashing at Yoongi’s when he’s not crashing at yours.

You raise your shaky fist and knock on the door.

A few seconds later, the sound of shuffling and keys jingling reach your ears and instantly sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. The door swings open and you make eye contact with his manager, his intense eyes make your heart almost implode within your ribs.

His frown at your presence almost stings. “What are you doing here?”

You look to the side as you swallow, hoping it helps you gather your courage. “Is Jungkook here?”

He scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “Why?”

“I need to talk to him.” You turn your head to look at him again, hoping you look as determined as you feel.

He dryly chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “So, you can kick him out at 4AM without hearing him out but he needs to hear you out because you’re the one that needs to talk now?”

You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself from fidgeting and glance at the floor. “I want to apologize to him for that.”

“You want me to believe that?” He glances at his watch as if he’s unimpressed with your reasoning.

Gosh, why is he so stubborn?

Before you can even reply, he bitterly adds, “You need to quit playing with that boy’s feelings, Y/N.”

You finally look up at the older man, a quiver in your bottom lip and an imaginary bag of sand unleashing in your throat as your mouth dries out at his accusation. “I’m not playing with his feelings, Min,” you pause as you look away. “Please, just let me talk to him.”

“You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way out here just so you can apologize to him.” He slides his feet into his shoes, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.

He looks so nonchalant, as if what you’re saying is of absolutely no significance to him. The tightening in your chest tells you that you’re starting to lose your patience. “And why the fuck not?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows twitch as he takes a step closer to you, menacingly looming over you. You now know where Jungkook gets that from. “You could’ve texted him and he would come over in a heartbeat, you know that.”

“Let me stop you right there,” you say as you raise your hand, holding it up in front of his chest. “He’s not a fucking dog. I’m not going to text him so he can jump at every command. I know he would, which is why I took it upon myself to come here and personally apologize to him.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side as he listens to your ramble, his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glimmer of something in his eyes but you can’t tell what it is, he’s always been too hard to read.

You drop your hand, wrapping it around the straps of the purse you’re holding in your sweaty palms to tug it over your shoulder. “So, will you let me?” you say after a few seconds of silence from Yoongi.

He narrows his eyes at you, still trying to read you and your intentions. But your sincerity is clear, evident by the fire in your eyes, your balled fists at your sides and the pinch in between your brows.

He takes a deep breath and steps aside to let you in. “Do what you want. I was about to leave anyway,” he mumbles as he slides his coat on and walks around you, heading out the front door.

He abruptly stops and turns to look at you one last time. “Don’t make him do anything stupid, Y/N. Or so, help me God.”

He stares you down as if he wants to obliterate you with a single blink of his eyes and with that, he leaves.

Jesus. What is his deal?

You clear your throat and compose yourself. You quietly close the door after he’s left, kicking your shoes off and make your way down the corridor, peeking into rooms until you find a door that’s shut. You try to open it but it’s locked so you quietly sigh before bringing your fist up and knocking softly on it.

“Can it wait ‘till tomorrow, hyung?” Jungkook’s groggy voice is muffled from behind the door.

Your chest tightens at his voice.

You shakily exhale as you drop your hand, your other hand still sitting on the door handle. “It’s me. Can we talk?”

Instant shuffling behind the closed door has butterflies eating your stomach from the inside out, your fingers tightly wrapped around the straps of your purse as you forcefully swallow down the bubble of panic that’s threatening to rush up your throat.

The door swings open and you’re met with bed hair, shirtless, sleepy Jungkook.

Your eyes drop down his figure but you quickly return them to his eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line.

His eyeballs are practically bulging out of his eye sockets at the sight of you here and his brows are dramatically pinched together but he quickly composes himself and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why are you here?”

It stings, it does. You realize that asking him that day what he was doing at your place must’ve hurt this way. Burned this way. Stung this way.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, your hands in front of your thighs with your fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of your purse as you swing it back and forth to distract yourself from the nerves creeping up on you.

He tilts his head to the side, parting his lips to answer your call but he closes his lips right away. The fact that he’s not replying is enough to have your heart stuttering in its rhythm, veins pulsating with fear. What if he tells you to get out like you did?

His silence makes you speak up and say, “I’m sorry.”

His expression doesn’t change but there’s a glint of surprise in his eyes. “For?”

“Everything.” Your reply is immediate.

He slowly crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, Y/N,” he says with a stern tone in his voice that has your stomach twisting into a wringed out shirt.

You sigh as you watch him step backwards into the room again, leaving the door open for you, a wordless invitation.

He doesn’t even turn the light on, just goes back to sit on the bed but he reaches over to turn the flashlight of his phone on and turns his phone face down on the bed so it lights up some of the room.

You walk in and close the door behind you, looking around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time but not much has changed.

Your feet bring you to the foot of his bed, his eyes staring you down the entire time. “I’m sorry for sending you away and not hearing you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” You place your purse on his bed but stand in front of it still, anxiously fidgeting with the strap.

He continues to quietly stare at you which makes you continue, “I was,” you pause to sigh deeply, “I was upset because you didn’t talk to me.”

He exhales deeply and looks to the side, your eyes watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You told me we’d talk about it when I was back.”

“I know I did but I thought I’d at least hear from you if it was going to last that long. I was waiting,” you explain, not missing the way Jungkook has nervously started nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I just thought that last time…” You shake your head as you continue, “I thought last time was different.”

He slowly nods as he returns the eye contact finally. “You’re right, it was,” he quietly says. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out. I was just scared you’d push me away again if I reached out to you just because you said–” he pauses as he glances at you and then turns his head to look away again, “those words. That you’d think I was too excited or something.”

Hoseok — a complete stranger to him — read Jungkook better than you. You should be fucking ashamed.

You gently rub your eyes to not mess up your eye makeup and then walk around the bed, moving to stand in front of him. He refuses to look at you, though, staring at his lap as if it’s playing a movie to him.

“Jungkook,” you start, “look at me.”

He slowly turns his head and tilts his chin to look up at you. If he notices the way your hand slightly hesitates before reaching out to him, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.

Your fingers delicately tuck his long black hair behind his ear, mindlessly playing with the shell of his ear.

“Will you hear me out this time?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with hope.

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear him out because he doesn’t owe you an explanation. “You don’t owe me anything, Jungkook. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist as your own fingers play with his locks. “I want to. Will you let me?”

Your chest deflates as you deeply exhale at his stubbornness. “Okay.”

He reaches for his phone that he left face turned down on his nightstand and hands it to you. He’s telling you to check his phone to prove his innocence.

You shake your head as you push his phone away, you’re not that kind of person. You’re aware you and Jungkook don’t have the healthiest relationship but snooping in each other’s phones is something neither of you ever felt the need to do.

However, Jungkook is determined. “Just look at it,” he pleads.

Your eyes shift downwards as you curiously glance at the screen. It’s a text conversation between him and someone.

René.

You realize he’s showing you the full text conversation that you read last time and there are no replies from Jungkook at all.

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Why didn’t you tell me you were back in Australia? We could’ve gotten together and hung out!! Let me know when you’re back x

[1:06AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (2)

You rub the scrunch between your brows and take a deep breath as the reality of the situation dawns on you. His words play on a continuous loop in your head.

I didn’t fuck anyone.

Jungkook had never denied it before. He would usually be quiet if you’d imply he’d been with someone. And if you think about it, that wasn’t even the part that made you upset. It was not hearing from him at all.

You push his phone back toward his chest when the text messages have mockingly stared at you long enough. “I’m sorry, Kook. I was such an ass.”

You continue, “This doesn’t change anything, I’m still a prick for not considering your feelings.”

He looks up at you through his pretty lashes, teeth chewing on his bottom lip which has reddened from all that nibbling.

You mindlessly press your thumb into his chin to make him release his bottom lip as you conclude, “Even if you did do whatever I thought it was you were doing, you have every right to. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing.”

“Just stop.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”

You sigh as he dismisses your statements, he’s going to keep dismissing them so there’s no point in pressing him about it. “Well, I’m sorry. Are we good?” you ask as you tuck another lock of his hair behind his ear.

A soft smile stretches onto his pretty lips, his eyes glimmering like he’s holding the entire galaxy in his gaze, which is you. “Of course we are,” he says, eyelashes fluttering at you and if it was any quieter, you could probably hear the blinking of his eyelids. “Did you come all the way out here to apologize?” he adds, his voice quiet and uncertain.

No, you didn’t.

You slowly nod, sliding your fingers to his earlobe and down his jaw, rubbing his chin with your thumb. “I did.”

He nods his head and you notice the scrunch in his nose for a split second, a habit he has when he becomes emotional. Becoming emotional is the last thing you need right now so you avert your gaze to your purse on his mattress. “When will I see you again?” he quietly asks.

“You know where I live,” you say, telling him he’s always welcome whenever he needs you. You drop your hand from his face and reach for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you head towards the door again. The sound of him following behind you reaches your ears, letting you know he at least wants to walk you out.

It’s a direct parallel of whenever you walk him out of your house.

However, you change your mind and decide that right now is the best time to respond to his unanswered question.

“Actually,” you say as you turn on your heels, “I came for one more thing.” You take his phone out of his hand to use his flashlight.

He halts in his steps behind you and raises his brows, eyes shifting to your hands as you pull out a box from your purse.

You hold it out to him, shaking it slightly when it takes him too long to take from your hands. A frown sits on his brows for a moment but he takes it into his hands nonetheless, opening it to look inside of it.

It’s your estranged necklace, the one he gave you three years ago.

He glances up at you, his pretty eyes once full of love and hope now full of hurt and despair. His misunderstanding squeezes your heart until you almost can’t breathe under his pained gaze.

“You’re giving this back to me?” he asks, voice so small and barely loud enough to be heard.

You shake your head. “I’m asking you to help put it on me.” You turn the flashlight around to aim it at your face, allowing him to finally see the tear-shaped sapphire earrings he got you hanging from your earlobes for the first time since you walked in.

It had been dark in the room so he never noticed you wearing them until this very moment.

His eyes jump from your right ear to your left, the reality of the situation dawning on him like a pile of bricks. The smile that suddenly stretches onto his lips singlehandedly glues all the pieces of your broken heart together again.

He can’t contain his wide smile, fingers scrambling as he takes it out of the box. He throws the unimportant box somewhere on his bed and unclasps the necklace, wrapping the chain around your neck from the front, never breaking eye contact with you as his fingers fasten the chain behind your neck. He adjusts the pretty necklace around your neck and reaches up to play with the earring in your right ear.

You can’t help but smile at his giddy reaction, your fingers coming up to fidget with the pendant.

His hand drops from your earlobe to his side, fingers pinching at the fabric of his swears. “Is this a yes?”

(Read: He’s referring to the question he wrote on the post-it note.)

You shrug your shoulders with a smug grin and add, “Clearly it’s not a no.”

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head at your teasing. His hands reach out and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him and your heart jolts in between your lungs at his proximity. He nudges your nose with his and respectfully drops his hands to your hips.

“Will you let me kiss you?”

The two of you giggle when you realize you’ve both asked each other the same question in unison. You bring your hands up to cup his face and press your lips to his.

He pulls you closer, closing the distance between the two of you as he tilts his head. His hands squeeze your hips and you hum into the kiss, moving your hands behind his neck so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

You pull away slowly and move to cup his cheeks, rubbing the apple of his burning cheek with your thumb.

“Stay the night. We’ll talk some more in the morning,” he says carefully, hoping you’ll agree.

You tilt your head to the side as his offer reaches your ears, a thinking pout on your lips before you part them to say, “I don’t think Min Yoongi would appreciate me staying over. He hates my guts.”

He stares at you for a moment longer and then glances at the wall. He knows you’re right. “He doesn’t hate y–”

You cut him off. “Yes, he does.”

“He hates what I let the relationship do to me. It’s not anything against you.” He tries to reason but you can’t forget the way Yoongi looks at you like he wishes you would just disappear into thin air.

He must’ve noticed the uncertainty in your expression. “I’ll lock the door,” he adds as he nods over your shoulder at the door.

“What are we, teenagers?” you laugh, rubbing his chest to make him look at you and he does.

He kisses his teeth after being in deep thought. “Okay, then just stay for a little while.” He pulls you down onto his bed, making you let out a surprised yelp.

You fall on top of him, hands still on his chest. You glance down at him and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips. He whimpers when you bring your hand down to slap his chest before you roll off of him to take your jacket off.

You toss the article of clothing somewhere across the room and your attention is disrupted when he wraps his hand around your wrist to pull you down and back into his embrace.

He pulls your back flat into his chest, arm hooked around your waist and his lips pressed into the back of your neck. He inhales through his nose and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“I missed you so much.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your neck, not paying any mind to the goosebumps that he’s awakening directly under the soft flesh of his lips.

You hum in response and let your eyes flutter close. “I haven’t had sex in months so if you don’t stop kissing me right now, I’ll ride you for three hours.”

He chuckles and pulls away to say, “Aren’t we moving too fast?”

You roll your eyes at his stupid joke as you wiggle out of his grasp and sit up, your gaze shifting to him next to you, eyes scanning his cocky face. “You fucked me for two years, Jungkook.”

“Still.” He rolls onto his back to be able to look at you better and moves his hands up to place the back of his head on top of his palms, allowing you to look at the clear outline of his biceps and triceps. He adds, “We just started dating, you horndog.”

“Right,” you say as you mockingly nod your head and get up from his bed, starting to head out of his room. “Guess I’ll just ask Hoseok.”

By the time the ruffling of his sheets have reached your ears, you haven’t even made it halfway through the room. Jungkook drags you back by your bicep, pulling you backwards into the room. You let out a quiet shriek when he spins you in one swift motion, hooks his hands around your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the dresser and holding you tightly by your waist, fingers draped over your ribcage. “You just love exploring my limits, don’t you?”

You chuckle and reach up to tuck his beautiful hair behind his ears with both hands. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

He shakes his head with a smile stretched onto lips, wrapping his arm around the perimeter of your waist to push your chest flat into his. “Yeah? I could also just text René right now,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders before adding, “ask what she’s wearing.”

Your face twists into a scowl as you press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no strength behind the push because you don’t want to push him off and luckily, Jungkook is not budging.

You huff and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his jaw and leaving a trail of soft kisses on his honey skin. “You could but you won’t.” Your breath tickles him, apparent by how quickly you can get goosebumps to pop out of his skin.

“Hm,” he hums nonchalantly and tilts his head to give you more access. He adds, “You sound awfully confident.”

“Yep,” you retort right away, dropping your arms and placing your hands on top of the dresser, leaning back on them as you look at him. “Want me to show you how confident I am?”

He cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, contemplating your words. “And how would you show me?”

You blink at him, fluttering your eyelashes innocently as you push him back and hop off the dresser. You turn him around and press his back into the dresser.

You slowly sink down, squatting in front of him and caging his calves in between your thighs in the process.

You look up at him with an innocent twinkle in your eyes as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, waiting for him to give you the green light.

“Shit,” he breathes out before eagerly nodding.

A soft giggle pushes past your lips as you start tugging his sweats down his legs and letting them pool at his ankles. You’re faced with his black Calvin Klein boxers and fuck, does he look good.

You tuck your fingers under the hem of his CK boxers and slowly tug them down his legs as well. His dick isn’t hard yet but it’s slowly growing.

You place your hands on the outer-sides of his bare thighs and move your head downwards to take the head of his dick into your mouth without using your hands, pretty eyes still staring into his.

He curses quietly and places one of his hands on your head, staring down at you to watch your every move.

You keep your eyes glued to him, lashes kissing your brows with the same innocent glimmer in your pretty eyes. You continue to move your head down his shaft, feeling it harden in your mouth and grow heavy with blood on your tongue.

His dick starts rapidly inflating in your mouth but you’ve already completely lathered it in your saliva, making it easier for you to pump his base as you continue to suck on the first few inches of his hardened dick.

You slide your tongue down his shaft, tracing one of the veins down to his balls as you gently suck on them whilst pumping his shaft, your eyes never breaking the intense lock you have his gaze in.

He winces in sensitivity and his thighs tense in pleasure as you continue to suck on his balls, your thumb gracefully rubbing over the head of his dick every time your hand makes it up his shaft.

“Quit teasing me,” he demands but it comes out in a pleading tone, his hips slightly jerking as he tries to fight the urge to thrust into your hand.

“Quit teasing me, what?” you press a kiss to the side of his shaft, eyes menacingly mocking him as you refuse to look anywhere else. You love when Jungkook submits to you because he rarely does.

He grunts in annoyance. “Quit teasing me, please.” His hand on your head gently strokes your cranium, hopeful that you’ll comply.

But you have other plans.

You haven’t taken him into your mouth since you’ve started teasing because the moment you do, he’ll make you eat your own shit by mercilessly fucking your throat. And you’re in need of teasing him some more before you let that happen.

You lick a wet stripe up the downside of his dick ‘till you make it to his tip, collecting all the precum that had started oozing out of his dick onto your tongue. You teasingly lick all around the head, the tip of your tongue sliding in between his slit which makes him hiss.

“Y/N,” he warns, trying to sound stern but his mouth betrays him when a soft, desperate moan pushes past his lips right after he says your name.

You simply hum in response. He can sound stern all he wants to but you’re the one in control, not him.

One of your hands abandons his thigh, letting the cold air hit the warm spot on his skin that your hand has left and you bring it up to massage his balls, tongue still wickedly teasing his slit.

You innocently blink up at him as you start pressing kisses to his tip, the precum sticking to your lips as you leave a sloppy trail of kisses down his shaft.

“Y/N, please,” he whimpers.

The moment his plea reaches your ears, you part your lips wide enough for him to fit through but you don’t move. It’s a wordless invitation for him to come use your mouth however he pleases.

He gets the memo right away and doesn’t waste any time to slide right into your mouth, holding your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth, groaning when the head of his dick slams into your soft palate.

You blink your tears away but it’s useless as he continues to assault the back of your throat, tears uncontrollably spilling from your eyes and rolling down your hot cheeks, ruining your makeup in the process.

You tap his thigh twice and he understands, halting his thrusts and glancing down at you to check. Once you take his dick back into your mouth and move your own head down his shaft again after catching your breath, he throws his head back and lets you suck him off to the best of your abilities.

Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t mind, not when Jungkook loves it. You gracefully move your mouth down his dick, committing the feeling of his hardened shaft effortlessly sliding over your tongue to memory.

He moans and groans a few more times and that tells you he’s nearing his orgasm. But just as you’re about to speed up, he stops you.

“I want to cum inside of you,” he tells you before sliding out of your sloppy mouth.

You try to catch your breath and nod as you wipe your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before rising to your feet.

“I don’t like that I’m completely naked and you’re fully clothed.” He reminds you that you are – in fact – fully clothed and he is – in fact – buttnaked.

“I don’t know, seems kind of fair to me.” You shrug your shoulders once you tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You bring your fingers up to right under your eyes to try and clean up some of the makeup stains on your hot cheeks. “‘Cause aren’t you a pervert, anyway?”

He scoffs as he crosses his arms. “I’m the pervert?”

He takes a breath to continue his argument but it’s abruptly cut off when you unclasp your bra and toss it at him, watching as it gracefully drapes over his shoulder.

His eyes drop down to your chest as if he’s forgotten you even have eyes before his hands wrap around your waist and push you toward his bed with a quickness.

You let yourself fall back against the soft mattress but you can barely enjoy the feeling before his fingers tug your pants down your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he mindlessly tugs your jeans off your ankles, angrily tossing it aside.

A soft giggle leaves your lips as you watch him be passive aggressive with your pants but not for long when his eyes shift to yours.

“Something funny?” he quips, eyes dropping down to the only piece of fabric that’s hindering what he wants to do to you.

You glance down at your panties before back up at him. Your hand travels down your stomach to your pelvis, slowly sliding your panties to the side, allowing him to see what a mess he’s made between your legs.

His tongue peeks out at the corner of his lips, sliding along his bottom lip as he eyes your attention-seeking sex. He hooks his fingers around your panties and slides them down your legs, tugging them off your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor over his shoulder.

He hunches over and positions his mouth right above your pussy before spitting on it, watching your legs jerk as he rubs it into your already soaked sex with his fingers. He knows you like it and he’s right, it drives you up the fucking wall every time he does.

He straightens his back and positions himself at your sticky sex, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your wet slit.

He wastes no time as he looks into your eyes when he pushes in, watching your face and how your eyes widen, your mouth falls open, your body jerks.

“Jungkook.” His name leaves your mouth in a desperate moan as he bottoms out, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

He lets out a low grunt and after a while of adjusting to the feeling of being inside of you again, he starts thrusting into you.

Your eyes shift to where you’re connected, intently watching how his dick disappears in and out of you. A pathetic moan falls from your lips, a surprised yelp following directly after when he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging it in his palm as he fucks into you.

His hips speed up in pace, the sound of his skin slamming into yours has your eyes rolling back and your arms give out, making you fall back against the mattress, sprawled out in front of him again.

He lets go of your breast and pushes one of your legs back, hooking it around his arm to keep it in place and mercilessly starts pounding into you, face hovering right over yours. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words, the only thing you can think about now is the stretching in your walls and his beautiful face in front of yours.

“You belong to me, don’t you?” he muses, face closing in on your neck as he presses soft kisses to your sweaty skin. The soft whines and whimpers leaving your mouth makes him fuck you harder yet gentler, full of love yet full of hate, want but also need.

You gather your breath to answer his question, in the mood to tease him now that he’s finally yours again. “No.”

Teasing each other is your love language.

His hips slow down and his face appears in front of yours again with a frown. His jet black eyes staring you down makes you want to sink into his mattress and disappear off the face of the Earth. He arrogantly clicks his tongue as he says, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you hum, closing your eyes as you move your hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers.

He mockingly nods at your teasing. “You know damn well no one else fucks you like I do.” His thrusts get harsher, eyes dropping to your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his pounding.

You whimper at the switch, the rough pounding makes the wetness squelch extra loud and you’ve made a disgusting mess against his sex with your slick.

“You know, Hoseok was pretty goo–”

“But who’s the one fucking you right now?”

His rebuttal has you dead silent aside from the occasional, pathetic moans and heavy breathing. You open your eyes and the first thing you’re met with are his own, black and frustrated.

“The love of my life.”

Your reply to him has his hips stuttering in their rhythm, the corners of his lips twitching as he tries to fight the smile threatening to creep onto his lips. In order to hide his smile, he starts leaning down and presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips.

Make-up sex really is the best.

You decide it’s enough teasing and wrap your legs around his waist, caging him in between your thighs as you pull him even closer. “I love you so much,” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to fully keep him trapped in your embrace.

He nods at the words, his pelvis still repeatedly slamming into yours. His hips slow down but the power behind them never subsides, the rough pounding has all your nerve endings set alight and your thighs jerk violently when the head of his dick barely grazes your cervix with each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles against your lips, allowing you to lick into his mouth. You clench around his dick, walls wrapping tightly around him. He groans into your mouth, it’s your way of milking him of every drop and he knows it.

“Harder,” you moan once he pulls away from your lips, his brows knitting together as he complies, roughly slamming his hips into yours.

His breath is getting heavier by the second and his dick twitches in between your walls, alerting you that he’s seconds away from his climax. “I love you so much,” he mumbles as he ejaculates, painting your insides with his cum.

He keeps thrusting and lets long groans and moans leave his lips as he fucks his load into you, your soft whimpers in his ear are the cherry on top that drives him insane.

He gives you a couple more thrusts before he fully comes to a halt, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The synced heavy breathing, his proximity, the reality of the situation, it all has tears pricking in your eyes.

He slowly lifts his head off your shoulder, eyes searching yours. “You haven’t cum yet, hm?”

You shake your head in response.

“Remember when you teased me while sucking my dick 20 minutes ago?” he asks as he unhooks your legs from his waist.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you listen to him, already knowing where this is headed.

“Get ready,” is all he says.

He pulls out and drags you all the way to the edge of his bed, forcefully shoving his fingers into your mouth while the other wastes no time traveling to your sex and beginning its torturous assault on your sensitive clit.

Your throat is ruined from the screams you’ve let out when he continues to edge and overstimulate you for the next 30 minutes, watching in satisfaction as you writhe and squirm under his touch.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You wrap the towel around your frame as you leave his bathroom, eyes glued to him as he’s staring at the ceiling before his eyes shift to you. He turns on his side and props his head up on one hand, a smile on his lips as he watches you dig into his dresser for something to wear.

“When do you leave again?” you ask quietly as you pull out a pair of his sweats.

He stares at your back for a moment longer before answering, “Next Thursday.”

(Read: For context, it’s Friday right now.)

Your hands find one of his bigger shirts and you pull it out, placing it next to the sweats you chose on top of the dresser.

You continue, “Where are you going?”

He thinks about his answer for a few seconds. “Brazil,” he says. This conversation happens every time and yet he answers like it’s the first time you’re asking him these questions.

You slowly nod as you consider asking him what you want to ask him.

“How long will you be staying there?” you ask as you drop your towel and slide his sweats and shirt on, ditching your bra and underwear.

He looks up at you as he says, “I’m not sure, probably a week or two.”

Your feet slowly take you to him and you take your seat on his bed right next to him.

You nod your head in understanding again before you reach out to tuck his hair behind his ear, addicted to the way his soft hair feels against your skin.

“Will you let me come with you?”

Your question has him perking up like a cartoon character, lips twitching, eyes wide, ears expanding.

Ever since you met him, you had never flown out with him anywhere. You love change but you also love the comfort of your own home.

But love is about compromise, is it not?

He instantly shoots up in his bed and lunges at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, face buried in your hair. He deeply inhales, his arms almost crushing your ribs, his pounding heart beating against your chest.

His breath has gotten shaky but you can tell that he’s fighting the urge to bawl in your presence. And eventually, he finally finds the voice that abandoned him in his time of need.

“I would love that.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook au #jungkook aus #boxer!jungkook #jeon jungkook au #jeon jungkook aus #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fics #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fics #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #reminder jjk #minors dni

[alphabetboyluvr]

throttle | jjk - series masterlist

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers

synopsis

in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you.

current wc: 160,244

warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

specific smut warnings will be given at the start of each chapter - just know that jungkook loves tits, showers frequently and has a tongue piercing. oh and he's blonde he he &lt;3 <3

cross posted to wattpad & ao3

minors dni | start date - late 2021

one - 17.8k

jungkook stops for gas. his receipt reads: petrol (38 litres), samgak gimbap (one), bottle of soju (one), curiosity of the cashier (piqued). - dangerous driving, depictions of violence, foul language, alcohol

two - 13.4 k

you consummate a hypothetical marriage - but hey, on the plus side, at least you can't testify against a spouse, right? - dangerous driving, smut, tipsy hookup

three - 7.5k

in the words of jimin, jungkook is 'all cock and balls, no brain', but luckily that's just how you like your men - smut, car sex

four - 9.1k

jungkook is a pied piper. whether you like it or not, you know you'll let him drag you to the river, just for him to watch you drown. - smut, the angst is upon us

five - 18.5k

you're 'just a friend from daegu' and jungkook is just a big fat filthy liar. - smut, angst intensifies

six - 20k

with lovers like jungkook, there's really no need for enemies - smut, angst

seven - 13.5k

jungkook sniffs powder how he used to sniff your hair; incessantly, obsessively. - depictions of violence, drug usage, angst

eight - 16.5k

yoongi chokes; on your hand around his throat, on his unspoken feelings, and on the courage it takes to tell you he's seeing someone else. - smut, infidelity

nine - 11.4k

you hate jungkook in the same way that teenagers hate their hometowns: no matter how much you want to run from it, you know it will always be the place you go back to.

ten

eleven

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #boxer!jungkook #mafia!jungkook #throttle #byholly #jungkook fluff #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n

[tsukisrants]

First Prize - Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.068

Warnings: Boxer!Jungkook, Possessive Behavior, Violence, Spankings, Manhandling, Dom/Sub undertones, Name-Calling, Hair-pulling, Fingering, Rough sex, Spit, Creampie.

Summary: "I need these eyes, little one. I need my number one fan, huh? Or I'll lose my mind, and we don't want that, do we?”

smut under the cut

A blow.

Another one.

The pungent smell of blood intoxicates him.

His mixed with that of his opponent.

Anger rises in his chest, overwhelming and distorting him.

Clouding his senses.

The gaze of the audience turned towards him. People look at him and devour him with their eyes.

Among them, yours.

You, who look at him with your childish eyes.

With that curiosity and desire.

Your eyes, his fuel.

Everything around him catches fire.

The flames blaze uncontrollably and his body is moved by an intoxicating adrenaline that creates addiction.

Despite the pain, the fatigue.

He wins.

The opponent falls to the ground.

He, on the other hand, stands triumphantly.

The shouts rise, the screams caress his ears, and he revels in every moment of glory.

He was born for this.

You, on the other hand, tremble.

You look at him with dreamy eyes, as you have been doing for a long time now.

Since you were dragged, against your will, to one of these fights.

You didn't want to come at all, but in the end, you gave in, and thank heaven every day that you did.

You saw him, and since then you have done nothing but come back.

Come back to him, for him.

Enchanted, bewitched.

At every encounter, you stand in the front row.

At every encounter, you have eyes only for him.

You scream his name, you smile.

You smile and everyone's eyes are on you.

But yours? Yours are only on him.

Your gaze belongs to him completely, like every single part of you.

And fuck, he likes it.

Jungkook lives for the desire he has for you and for the desire you have for him.

At every encounter, he checks if you’re there.

But as always, he does nothing.

He looks at you.

He observes you, and burns your skin with those dark pits.

Jungkook keeps playing this little game with you for a while.

Then, one evening, you don't show up.

You miss a fight.

You didn't want to, but exhaustion didn't allow you to move.

Too tired from work, you skipped a fight.

That night, they had to urgently take Jungkook's challenger to the hospital.

Furious, he ended the evening by downing a bottle of vodka, and then picking a fight with a group of idiots, emerging victorious.

Jungkook never loses.

At the next fight, you are there.

You are there, you have returned, and when you look at him, your curiosity turns into confusion, then fear.

In his eyes, the deepest darkness.

Jaw clenched, he delivers precise and devastating blows.

He wins, because he can't do otherwise.

He wins, and you timidly exult.

He steps down from the ring, drinks a drink.

He downs it in one gulp, and you remain enchanted watching his neck shine under the dim light of the gym, his Adam's apple moving up and down.

He redeems the winnings, and leans against the wall.

His friends congratulate him, now accustomed to his successes.

He crosses his arms, and then you notice.

Jungkook is looking at you.

Your hands tremble, and you look around, as if to make sure that he is really looking at you.

You want to run, to escape from him.

But your body seems unresponsive.

It is no longer yours, but his.

Dominated by his eyes.

With a nod of his head, he gestures for you to follow him.

Before you can realize it, you are following him.

A dark corner, and a hand that grabs you.

He pulls you.

You are in a room you have never seen before, you realize it is the room where he prepares before the fights, before dominating the whole world with the strength of his fists, of his body.

"You weren't there last friday," he says.

You gasp, trying to find the words to answer him, completely caught off guard.

"I-I... no, I wasn't there," you reply.

He approaches you, making you step back.

Your body collides with the wall, and he towers over you.

One of his hands next to your face, and you feel your breath catch.

With the other, he grabs your chin.

He forces you to look at him.

You part your lips, and you have to forcefully suppress the moan of astonishment that tries to escape from your throat.

"Don't do it again. Don't miss again, I need you there."

His confession leaves you stunned.

Your confusion clear and evident on your face.

"I need these eyes, little one. I need my number one fan, huh? Or I'll lose my mind, and we don't want that, do we?"

You shake your head. No, you don't want that.

God.

He needs you.

He just said it, and he did it with his eyes locked into yours. He meant it.

He means it.

"I will never miss a fight again, never," you promise him.

As you say it, you truly believe it. You would be ready to do anything for him, and it doesn't matter if you don't really know each other: you belong to him.

He smiles, and Jungkook's smile scares you.

It excites you.

It makes your panties wet.

You feel warmth spreading through your body, your skin filled with uncontrollable shivers.

"Good girl," he says.

His words burn: they set your mind to flames.

There’s nothing in the world you want more than to hear those two little words over and over again.

As he speaks, the hand that was holding your chin moves.

Jungkook rubs his thumb against your lips, his tattoos marked with scratches and splatters of blood make the image even more exciting than it already is.

Jungkook pushes his finger into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue.

The taste of his salty skin is enough to elicit a faint moan from you.

"These eyes, little one. They make me want to hurt you, do you understand? I want to destroy you," he growls, hungry.

He pushes his finger even deeper into your mouth, making you gag.

Jungkook fucks your mouth with his thumb, and you take everything he gives you.

You cough.

He moans at the sight, releasing your mouth.

A trail of saliva connects his thumb to your parted lips, and Jungkook's breath becomes more labored. Heavier.

"Do it. Hurt me. Do whatever you want to me," you beg him.

In an instant, he grabs you by the hair.

His hand tightens with force at the base of your neck.

The strength with which he pulls you excites you: you love the idea that he can do whatever he wants with you, that Jungkook is so much stronger than you that he can bend you and fuck you whenever and wherever he wants.

A cry of pain escapes you, and he laughs.

Jungkook laughs as he drags you by the hair across the room, until he positions you in front of a table.

Once there, he forces you to move as he pleases, shoving you around like a rag doll.

He pushes you down, bending you over the table.

You flinch, tears of pain streaming down your cheeks, meeting your lips, still wet with your saliva.

You feel the taste of your own tears, let it intoxicate you.

The cold surface of the table against your cheek keeps you anchored to reality, and when Jungkook pushes your face forcefully against it, you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

You love to suffer for him.

You've dreamt of him at every encounter, and finally it's reality.

He’s finally giving you the pain that you craved for so long. Too long.

"From now on, you're mine. Say it."

"I'm yours."

Then, he spanks you.

Hard.

Jungkook's hand collides with your ass, again and again.

Over the skirt you're wearing.

The black one, the one you know is a provocation made for him.

Designed for him.

The one that hugs your body, short in just the right places.

Then, he pulls it up, making it tangle around your waist.

He grabs your panties, and then Jungkook tears them.

They're the pink ones, with the sweet pattern you love.

He loves them even more.

Jungkook gets off to the thought of corrupting you, ruining you for anyone else.

Scraps of fabric from your ripped panties fall to the ground, forgotten.

"If I see wearing a skirt like this again I’ll make sure you regret it, you hear me? You don’t wear shit like this, not without me, do you understand?", he asks.

In another circumstance, you would have probably screamed and resisted.

But now, for him, you would do anything.

Everything is so wrong that it feels so fucking right to you.

When you don't respond, he spanks you one more time.

"Do you understand?", he asks again, leaning forward to grab your face, pressed against the table, and forcing you to look at him.

Your gazes meet and you feel insignificant under the weight of Jungkook’s.

You love feeling this way.

You don't want to be anything other than a little toy for him to use and fuck.

"Y-yes! I understand!", you exclaim.

He smiles satisfied, before pushing two of his fingers deep inside your mouth.

In their rightful place.

With his other hand, he unbuttons his pants.

He pulls down the zipper, then pushes them down, letting them slide down his thighs.

You can't see the scene clearly, but you hear the metallic sound of the zipper being pulled down, the buckle of his belt briefly hitting the table.

He lowers his boxers, stained with his pleasure: a wet spot that marks the level of his desire for you.

He pulls out his cock, and you widen your eyes.

It's big.

Thick, long, and shining from how wet he is, drops of pre-cum sliding down his pulsing tip.

You want it in your hhmouth, in your pussy.

"Good girl, lick them for me, make them wet," he encourages you.

He fucks your mouth with his fingers, once again forcing you to choke on them, pushing them deep into your throat.

As he watches the scene, he touches himself.

His hand moves quickly against his cock, his hips pushing forward in a desperate attempt to receive more friction.

Jungkook grunts and hisses in pleasure, gritting his teeth and wetting his lips with his tongue.

Then, your mouth is left empty.

Jungkook brings those same fingers between your legs, rubbing them against your pussy, before plunging them into you without any regard.

"So tight, so warm for be, fuck...", he murmurs.

He's not talking to you, but to himself.

As if you are nothing more than a little fuck-toy. Nothing more than a flashlight.

Perhaps you really are nothing but that.

He moves his fingers quickly, thrusting them inside you.

The sound of your wetness, of your pleasure, echoes in the room.

It’s all so fucking messy.

You are wetter than you have ever been before, and it is solely and exclusively for him.

Hot droplets of your juices splash down his hand, down his wrist. The veins of his forearm popping out with the strength that he’s using to finger-fuck you.

You feel your wetness trickle down your legs in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

As he touches you, he rubs his cock against your flushed and sensitive skin, against your ass.

He leaves behind a glistening trail of his pleasure, his pure desire for you. Your ass wet with his pre-cum.

When Jungkook deems that he has stretched you enough, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy.

You feel empty without a part of him inside of you, and it feels so wrong not to have him inside of your body.

"Open," he orders, tapping those fingers on your lips.

You open them, and he forces you to taste yourself, pushing those wet fingers against your parted lips and then against your tongue.

"You make me so horny, baby..."

When he's satisfied, he cleans his fingers on your face, on your cheeks.

He grabs you by the hips first, then his hands slide down your body: he spreads your legs, firmly grabs your ass, and keeps you open for him.

From above, he lets his saliva slide onto you, onto your throbbing pussy.

He spits on your pussy and the sound is enough to make you moan loudly, gasping his name.

Your fluids mix, becoming one.

He rubs the tip of his cock against you, pushing it inside your pussy.

Just the tip.

It's not enough, not even close to being enough for you.

"Beg me. Beg me to give you my cock, come on, you fucking slut," he groans.

You can clearly feel that Jungkook is teasing you.

The humiliation burns fiercely in your stomach, and only serves to make your pussy even wetter for him.

You are now lost in your own perversion, and decide to let go.

To embrace your deepest desires and needs.

"G-give it to me. Please, Jungkook, please... fuck me, fuck me..."

He does. Jungkook satisfies you, because he can't resist when you beg him so sweetly to fuck you.

"Fuck, baby," he pants.

He buries himself in you completely, and a moan similar to a scream escapes your lips.

Your folds open up to accommodate his length, the lips of your pussy hugging him tightly as your tight walls suck him in.

"You're such a dirty little whore. You like getting fucked like a bitch in heat? You were made to take my cock, made to get fucked like nothing more than a flashlight."

You tremble. You nod and moan.

Jungkook laughs as he fucks you. He laughs at the state you're in: desperate and lost in the pleasure that he is giving you. His cock thrusts inside you again and again, hitting all the right spots, driving you crazy.

"Yours. Only for you. Your whore, only yours, y-yours only, J-Jungkook please..."

Hearing you say it drives him crazy.

He grabs your wrists and, pulling at them, he holds them behind your back, bending your arms.

With one hand, Jungkook keeps you still, gripping your wrists so tightly that you're sure you'll wear his marks for days. While he fucks you he releases the adrenaline of the encounter, the anger of not having seen you last time, and the explosive desire he has had of you for weeks.

He spanks you.

Again, and again.

He does it until the mark of his hand is imprinted on your ass, a mark that will last on your skin for a long time.

You are his.

His and only his.

You belong to Jungkook.

With each spank, you thank him.

He grits his teeth, thrusting into you forcefully and violently. He pushes his cock into your wet pussy with precision and fervor.

The sound of his length slamming into you makes you tremble, it's a sound so obscene, so wet that it brings you close to the edge.

He understands, recognizing the signals of pleasure building relentlessly in your belly.

One of his hands slips between your legs, his rough fingers teasing your swollen and pulsating clit.

He moves his fingertips against you in fast circular motions, in rhythm with the impetuous thrusts of his cock.

You pulse around his length, the orgasm getting closer and closer.

"Come. Come on my cock, little one, go ahead," he growls, abusing your clit until all you can do is tremble, caught in spasms.

Jungkook's voice caresses your ears and gives you the final push you need to finally let go and surrender to pleasure.

"C-Cumming, K-kookie! F-for you, I'm cumming for you!"

You cum, just like that, trembling and covering his cock with your pleasure.

Drops of it splash down his cock, and your pussy pulses against him again and again, making him grunt and moan.

Even Jungkook trembles.

He leans forward, burying his face in the hollow of your neck and bites you.

He bites your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin, and Jungkook buries himself even deeper in your hole, now almost at his limit too.

You are exhausted, hypersensitive. Your clitoris begs for mercy, and he shows a little compassion by stopping teasing it.

He pants against your neck, his warm breath colliding with your skin, and your body feels like it's filled with pure electricity.

Then, he grabs a piece of skin between his lips and starts sucking.

Next to the bite, a purplish bruise now occupies your otherwise pristine neck.

Despite the tiredness, despite your body begging for mercy, you take his cock, again and again.

You let him use you to pleasure himself.

You let Jungkook use you to empty his balls, thrusting inside you as much and as hard as he wants.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck, kitten..."

You beg him to do it, to fill you up, to mark you indelibly.

You beg Jungkook to cum inside you, to give you every drop of his thick, warm cum.

"Take it. Fuck, baby, I'm cumming. Christ, can you feel it? Feel it, feel my cum inside you, take it all, every fucking drop."

As he says this, he releases your wrists, now adorned with the marks of his hands.

Deep bruises that will hardly fade.

He grabs you by the hair and turns your face to the side.

He kisses you, bites your lips.

Jungkook's saliva mixes with yours and drips onto your chins.

"All my cum in your pussy, little one. The best pussy I've ever fucked, all mine..."

With these words, he buries himself in you one last time, fulfilling his promises: he fills you. He claims you. He makes you his.

Hot spurts of his cum fill you, and part of you believes to feel every drop filling your pussy.

He thrusts into you and both moan in unison, seized by violent spasms of pleasure.

You both stay still for a while, locked together.

Your breaths mirror each other.

You both tremble and gasp.

Jungkook gently kisses your shoulder, right where he bit you minutes ago, leaving the mark of his teeth.

The gesture is gentle, contrasting with everything you just shared.

Yet, it feels so right.

"Mmh, baby. Here it is, the first prize," he whispers, softly rubbing his cheek against yours.

You smile, reveling in his tender caresses.

Despite his words, though, you feel that in reality, it is you who have won.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jk x y/n #bts #bts x reader #bts fic #oneshot #boxer jungkook #boxing au #jeon jungguk #bts smut #jungkook smut #jk smut

[moni-logues]

Haircut

Pairing: Boxer!JK x reader

Genre: pwp/smut but honestly it ends kind of cute uwu

Summary: Watching Jungkook work out, coupled with that new haircut, gets you so hot and bothered, you don't make it home before you have to do something about it

Word count: 2.5k

Content: car sex therefore sort of semi-public but they aren't seen, unprotected sex

A/N: so.... JK's live sent me insane and Jess said 'Thirteen Rounds drabble?' and now here we are. You don't actually have to have read Thirteen Rounds to read this but, honestly, I'd recommend it because I actually think it is quite good lmao. Y'all have this little bastard to thank for all of it 😂😂😂 and yes that is the picture I've chosen and I'm sticking with it!!!!!1

You leant on the doorframe, watching Jungkook train, still not over the novelty of being able to. 

After a lot of soul-searching and debating and to-ing and fro-ing, he had decided to part ways with his now-former coach (you cheered only inwardly because you knew how hard a decision it had been for him). You liked his new coach; his new coach liked you. His new coach let you inside the gym; his new coach let you sit in on training.  

You knew as well as JK did (and much better than his new coach did) that you would be a distraction if you sat and watched a whole session but sometimes you liked to show up just a little early when picking him up.  

You watched him from the door as he grunted and whined his way through another set of inchworms. He looked about ready to collapse when his coach asked him for one more. He cried out and you giggled to yourself as he nevertheless walked forwards on his hands into a plank, panting noisily, groaning as he pushed himself back towards his toes. His T-shirt long abandoned at the side of the room, he was glistening with sweat, his muscles rippling as he worked. You couldn’t not think about his hand around your neck, the salty zing of his sweat when you kissed his skin, all those noises he was making now but making them only for you, only in the effort of fucking you like you wanted, like you needed. Like, he said, you deserved. 

It gave you pause sometimes, how much, how badly you wanted him. Still. All the time. Your friends thought you were crazy, a horndog outlier on the normal distribution of sexual appetite which you had to admit seemed true, but you hadn’t been that way until you’d met Jungkook. No one had ever wanted you like he did, as much, as badly, as all the time as he did. He was all-in from day one. That’s just who he was: he gave all of himself to everything that he did; everything meant everything to him; he was burning up, all day and all night, an eternal fire of keen passion, of relentless energy, of an unstoppable drive.  

And the way he fucked you. You couldn’t say no. Couldn’t turn it down. Couldn’t live without it. It was months ago now, that month off, that painfully long stretch of time without him, and you still felt like you were making up for it.  

His coach finally told him it was over, he was finished, and he collapsed in a sweaty heap on the floor. He rolled onto his back, starfishing, his chest heaving, his hair in his face. It looked different. You knew he was getting it cut before training (a decision that made no sense to you, since it was now, already, dirty with sweat and whatever grime it was picking up from the floor). You couldn’t quite tell what it was going to look like. 

He’d been growing it out. It was the longest you’d ever seen it. You liked it. Liked to run your fingers through it when you were trying to get to sleep at night. Liked to wrap it around your fingers when his head was between your legs. He liked that, too.  

As he sat up, his back to you, you were relieved that he hadn’t taken any length off. That relief evaporated in an instant when, having put his T-shirt back on, he turned around and you saw what he had done. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, swallowing hard.  

Jungkook’s eyes widened when he saw you. 

“Baby!” he cried, his arms thrown wide as he approached.  

He wrapped you in a sweaty hug, holding you as tight as he could, rubbing his sweaty head over yours. 

“Ew, stop it! Stop it!”  

You swatted at him and he giggled, pulling back but not letting you go.  

“You love it.” 

You could only nod as you reached a hand up to brush over his hair, the front cut short above his eyes. He closed them and scrunched his nose; you saw a tiny blush creep onto his cheeks and you wanted to scream with how badly it made you want him, right there, right that second. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.  

“I-” you started and had to stop, clear your throat, tell your heart to slow its roll for a second. “Yes, Kookie, I like it. I like it a lot.”  

You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip.  

“You do?”  

You had to look away, take a momentary break from his huge, sparkling, puppy-dog eyes, from his little hopeful smile and, fuck, that haircut. You tightened your grip on his shoulders. 

“Yes, Jungkook, I do and if you don’t let me take you home right this second and show you how much I like it, I might literally die.”  

He trailed a hand up your side, a sneaking smirk on his face. 

“Is that right? You like it that much, huh?” 

“Yes, now let’s go.” 

He laughed and walked back for his bag, taking his sweet time, walking as slowly as he could, stopping to tie his shoelace. 

“Jungkook!”  

* * * 

You sat at a red light, grateful that it was late, that it was dark, that people couldn’t see you, flushed and antsy, fidgeting in your seat as you tried not to break every single speed limit on your way home.  

Jungkook was not helping. He hummed along with the radio with his hand on your thigh. Mostly just resting there, occasionally letting his fingers wander higher and higher. You wished you had worn jeans, or something thicker than leggings, so that when he gently dragged a finger over your aching core, you wouldn’t feel it so much, it wouldn’t make you squirm in your seat, your mouth wouldn’t drop open in a silent gasp, your clit wouldn’t throb.  

“Jungkook,” you breathed. 

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking like butter wouldn’t melt. 

“I mean it. I am literally going to die if you keep teasing me like this.” 

Jungkook removed his hand from your crotch and hummed thoughtfully. He brought up the navigation on the screen and started punching in an address. 

“Just follow this,” he said when he’d finished.  

You’d have done anything he asked you at that point. The streets were familiar to you, but you couldn’t work out why Jungkook was taking you here. You pulled into the empty car park of a retail estate, the shops all closed hours ago, lights off.  

“You have reached your destination,” intoned the satnav. 

“Um, this is a car park.” 

“Yeah, my love, go over there.” 

He pointed towards a dark corner, where the streetlights didn’t quite reach. You manoeuvred the car into the space, put it into park, and turned the engine off. Jungkook unclipped your seatbelt as he unclipped his own and then he barrelled into the backseat. He patted his lap. 

“Come here, you.”  

Sex in the car wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind but any inhibitions you might have had, any hesitations about fucking somewhere so public, where anyone could see were drowned out by the desperation you felt, the desire bordering on hysterical. You might have got out and fucked him against a shop window if you’d had to. But you were glad you didn’t have to. 

You straddled Jungkook and took his face in your hands, not wasting a second more. You crashed your lips together and the spark ignited. You rolled your hips over his and gasped to feel him already hard beneath his trousers. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your open mouth, moaning as his hands disappeared inside your T-shirt. You were hot all over, shivering under his touch. He unclasped your bra and you ripped your top off, letting your bra fall with it. When he dipped his head to suck your nipple into his mouth, you whined, dizzy with need, shaking with it, your hips still rocking against his clothed length. It had been twelve hours since he was last there, beneath you, on top of you, inside you, but that might as well have been a lifetime. Your need eclipsed everything else. You weren’t thinking with your cunt; you weren’t thinking at all. You were aching, wanting, lusting, dripping. You were a siren screaming Jungkook’s name, wailing into the dark night for him and him alone.  

“I need you, Kookie- fuck. Please. Fuck me.”  

He hooked his fingers around the waistband of your leggings and tugged them down. You separated so you could pull them all the way off, so Jungkook could lift his hips and remove his trousers and boxers. You pushed him backwards, so he was lying on the backseat, and climbed back on. You took his cock, all heavy-heat and velvet-rigidity, leaking already—how much, how badly he always wanted you—and slid yourself along it, your arousal sticky-sweet and all over. He was coated in your juices, slick as you wrapped your hand around him and settled yourself over him, lodging the tip in your entrance.  

Jungkooked hissed as you lowered yourself, his hands gripping your hips, his mouth falling open as you took him in, every inch. You sat, him full inside you, this pressure and pleasure spreading, aching in your cunt and your clit, your hips and your thighs, too. You couldn’t bear to move, didn’t want to lose this feeling, didn’t want the emptiness to return even for a second.  

“You ok, baby?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you, cocking it to the side. 

You nodded, eyes closed, one hand ghosting over your clit, not really touching, not really not.  

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just want to stay like this for a bit.” 

“Ok.” 

He ran his hands down your thighs, back up to your hips, and you luxuriated in it. How he fit you, stretched you, felt made for you. The radiating heat and stickiness of his dried-sweat skin. The softness of his touch. The things he whispered to you, how you felt so good, how much he loved you, loved to fuck you. When he moved your hand aside and pressed his thumb against your clit, you jerked, the direct pressure suddenly too much when you had been craving it for so long.  He lifted his thumb away and then returned it, slowly, gently, rubbing circles over you.  

You cursed and tipped your head back, looking skyward, as you felt everything in you pull together, the tension white-hot, the pleasure barbed, the heat bubbling and roaring. Your hips began to move, your clit chasing his touch, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Jungkook groaned and he gripped your hip with one hand, stilling you so he could take over. He braced himself carefully, one foot on the seat, one on the floor, and directed you upwards, the drag of his dick against your walls enough to make you whine. Then he held you there, his tip still clutched inside, and began to thrust, hard and fast.  

You scrabbled at the ceiling of the car for purchase, weak suddenly as he fucked into you; where he found the strength, you’d never know. He had not twenty minutes ago been collapsed on the gym floor; you knew you’d be collapsing soon if you couldn’t find something to grip, something to hold your body up. Jungkook pushed harder with his thumb, rubbing rougher circles now and you fell forward with a quiet cry, leaning heavily on his chest. He huffed and paused and you tried to catch your breath. 

“Don’t stop, please.”  

He chuckled breathlessly and held still, lazily tracing your nipple with his finger. You whined. 

“Please. I’m literally begging you, Kookie. Don’t be mean.”  

He didn’t answer except to slam into you, once, hard. Then he dragged himself slowly out and did it again. The new angle had him squeezing tight past your g-spot with every thrust. It had you seeing stars. It had you digging your nails into his shoulders. He kept at it, torturously slow, and you were begging, again, pleading with him for more. 

“Kookie,” you cried, using all your strength to lift yourself up to look in his eyes.  

They were black, sparkling, a galaxy of mischief as he sucked his lip ring into mouth and bit his bottom lip. You clenched tight as he dragged himself out and the smirk tugging at his lips fell, faltering. He whimpered softly, accidentally. 

“See, Kookie? You want it, too. Please. Please. More. I need more. Oh- Fuck, please.”  

Your fingers twisted around the hair at the nape of his neck and you tugged as your face fell into the crook of his neck. You pressed your lips against his salty skin, dragged your tongue up the column of his neck and felt him shiver beneath you. He groaned and then gripped you hard with both of his hands on your hips. He sped up. Faster and harder. Pistoning into you with gasping grunts of effort, his jaw tight, his hair sticking to his forehead. Yeses tumbled from your mouth. Yes and thank you and words that were no longer words, little moaned vowels and consonants stuck in your throat. 

You slipped a hand between your bodies and picked up where Jungkook left off. Your cunt spasmed at the lightest touch on your clit and Jungkook’s grunt was broken and high-pitched as you squeezed him, vice-tight and slippery. Words and breath all strangled, tangled up in pleasure as you began to shake all over, Jungkook crying out loud, your name over and over again, how good you felt, how good you were, how close he was.  

A rush of heat and gush of arousal. A twitching trembling in your legs. A shaking stuttering in your heart. A screaming, careening ecstasy. Rapture.  

A numb, tingling weakness after a fusion of strength and force. A warm body, yours; a warm body, his. The ratatat-tat of your hearts against each other. The ocean rush of your breath, heaving, panting, gasping.  

“So you really like my new haircut, huh, baby?” 

You whined, feeling boneless and shivery but hot all over. You reached one hand up with a groan and tugged at a forelock.  

“It’s dangerous, my little oreo. You are dangerously fucking sexy. I don’t know how we’re going to get home. I don’t even know how I’m going to get dressed. I can’t feel my legs.”  

Jungkook kissed the top of your head and pulled his hands under his head with a satisfied sigh. He used to think you’d get tired of him, sick of him. Because everyone else did. No one could ever keep up, no one ever wanted anything as much as he did. Too much. He knew it was too much—he was too much. For everyone. They told him to stop and calm down and get over things, tone it down a little, take a breather. But not you. He was never too much for you. You always met him there. You kept wanting him, so much, so badly, even after all this time. He was never too much, for the first time in his life.  

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #boxer jungkook #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook

[yok00k]

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

sanrio!oc & boxer!jk headcannon

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

⤷ ⊹₊⋆ series masterlist ⊹₊⋆

>pics from pinterest<

—warning: some mature contents, read at your own risk—

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

ᡣ𐭩 y/n l/n, 19

ʚɞ lives in a tiny/luxurious apartment nearby the lake

ʚɞ works at a bubble tea store. you love being in a minimalistic and cute place. indeed you think you’re just a girl and your world is full of sanrio and cute stuff.

ʚɞ currently studying cosmetology. you dont know what you want to do just yet but you’re trying to figure it out. you love doing your own makeup, nails, and eyelashes. anything that makes you feel that feminine energy you’ll do it. that’s the reason why you’re pursuing something that’s related to your very own interest!

ʚɞ obsessed with hello kitty. you just has to collect at least one every week so you can function properly

ʚɞ has daddy’s issue (just like the author)

ʚɞ friendly to everyone but you have 3 real friends who you know really well. you open up to them about some details of you and jungkook’s relationship. there’s always there to give you advice or just listen to your rants

ʚɞ you’re very affectionate and genuinely loves the people in your life + sensitive: cry yourself to sleep when someone yells at you. how dare they

ʚɞ had multiple sugar daddies prior to entering a relationship with jk

ʚɞ your go-to outfits are mini skirts+black platform boots/mary janes + crop tops

ʚɞ dumb and slow as a turtle. you just never get what’s going on most of the time & that’s why guys get to take advantage of you and your dummy self won’t even realize it.

ʚɞ may look innocent but be the freakiest in the bedroom. 100% certified virgin (just for the first 6 months of her and jk’s relationship) but that doesn’t mean you can’t own multiple toys + toys that jk gifted you.

ʚɞ unintentionally and intentionally tease jk. you just likes seeing all worked up for nothing.. or something

ʚɞ sucker for creampie & cockwarming

ʚɞ listen to kali uchis, lana del rey, mitski, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

<pics from pinterest>

ᡣ𐭩 Jeongguk Jeon, 23

ꕤ born from a wealthy family. he rebels against his parents: they wanted him to be the heir of their business, but jungkook said “fuck that imma do my own thing”

ꕤ was an underground boxer at the age of 20, but because of his skills, he became somewhat popular in mainstream boxing.

ꕤ has lots of boxing competition [i think he likes to fight]

ꕤ has anger issues. especially when he sees men taking advantage of you. boxing helps him to let out all the anger and he’s learning how to be better. [ you can fix him ]

ꕤ nonchalant but possessive? he doesn’t like to share

ꕤ lives on his own for some time now, in a huge penthouse. he gets lonely most of the time, he’s used to it though

ꕤ @ the gym 24/7. he basically lives there.

ꕤ rumor has it that he was a fuckboy? there’s no proof though.. yet. there’s been rumors around and they don’t sound nice.

ꕤ smokes + vapes [oc hates it]

ꕤ has a big dog named Bam, he’s such a good dog to you!

ꕤ always horny, he keeps the videos of you playing with yourself for his personal use

ꕤ has lots of fantasy of you, he’s infatuated then later on will be in love

ꕤ listens to partynextdoor, metro boomin, brent faiyaz, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#jungkook ff #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #bts jk #jeon jk #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeongguk #headcanon #sanrihoe #boxer au #bts ff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jjk fluff #fluff #bts fluff #bts ffs #jeon jungkoooook #i love him #so silly #x reader #jjk x you

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic | JJK || Masterlist

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 -

#armpirate #army #boxer #bts #btsfanfic #btsff #btsjungkook #btssmut #btsxreader #fanfic #ff #jeongguk #jeonjungkook #jk #jkxreader #jungkook #jungkookxreader #kook #kookie #kpop #reader #readerinsert

[euphorajeon]

in the sheets | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college!au, boxer!jk

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: short-haired, chubby-cheeked, sleepy jk, they're crude ahahah, a bit teasing on jk's end because what is jk without teases (non sexual), basically nothing big it's just jk and oc being fluffy in the morning.

— summary: a sleepy jeongguk in the morning is very soft and whiny, a stark contrast to the usual annoying and full-of-tease jeongguk. (either way, you love him all the same.)

— author's note: i just miss boxer!gguk and what better opportunity to bring him back than this sleepy jk live hahaha. hope you enjoy! :)

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s a norm to mornings you spend at Jeongguk’s house after dating him, one involving his white blankets, his pillow that sometimes you both struggle to share, and his inked arm draped heavily around your waist. Most mornings see you both fighting to keep sleep away from your eyes and denying the warmth of the blankets to get ready for whatever you got planned that day, but on the mornings you have the luxury to stay a bit longer in bed, Jeongguk always makes the most of your time by pressing his lips to yours in slow kisses, pinning you further against the sheets. Often you find yourself panting under him after said slow kisses escalate into something more, his sweaty body on top of you not faring any better.

This morning, that norm is broken as you’re standing beside Jeongguk’s bed watching him hog the pillow and blankets to himself as he puts his arm around the bunched up blankets instead of your waist. His recently-cut hair sits like a nest on top of his head, stray strands curling into his eyelashes. It frames his face way differently compared to his long hair, letting you see the roundness of his cheek pressing into his pillow. His half-open eyes stare blearily at you, squinting to fight the sunlight peeking from behind his blinds.

“You haven’t slept, have you.” It’s not even a question anymore. “Your mom told me you were having a karaoke session and just stopped like thirty minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t sleeeep,” Jeongguk moans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Got tired after boxing, then I slept, woke up at two. Couldn’t fall back asleep so I just picked up the mic.” His voice is mufled by the pillow but somehow you understand him through experience and willpower. Drunk Jeongguk is way worse than sleepy Jeongguk. “What are you doing here at seven anyway?”

You climb into his bed to sit next to his lying down form, leaning against the headboard. “Mom kicked me out,” you sigh.

The way Jeongguk sits up quickly sends you into a fit of giggles, his alarmed eyes jumping around the features on your face in panic worsening it. “Kidding, kidding. Annoying Aunt is coming so mom sends me here to avoid her.” A big yawn interrupts your sentence. “Plus, your mom asked me to check on you and your karaoke-ing ass.”

“I told you I couldn’t sleep,” Jeongguk mumbles around a yawn as well, slumping back into the mattress upon knowing your mom isn’t evil. “Judging from your yawn, you couldn’t either?”

“No, I slept.” Another yawn. “At four.”

Jeongguk snorts. “Yeah, that’s hardly sleeping.” He lifts the blanket without even opening his eyes. “C’mere. Sleep with me.”

The silence you responds him with is obvious, which makes him chuckle while dropping the blanket back down. “Just sleep, babe, I don’t have the energy to fuck you right now.” He purses his lips in thought. “Although, if you want to fuck me, that can be arranged..”

“Jeon Jeongguk.” You swat at his shoulder weakly, having little to no energy either today to scold him your usual way. “Don’t tempt me. Having your dick hard while being sleepy is worse than being blue-balled.”

“Hm.. speaking from experience, are we?” Your boyfriend lets out a small grin. “You’re hot but I don’t think I can even get it up if I want to. I’m really beat.”

“Then you should’ve gone to sleep instead of singing your ass off at the crack of dawn,” you say without any real bite, fingers combing through his hair slowly. Jeongguk lets out a sigh, seemingly enjoying your touch on his scalp.

“Yeah, yeah. Now will you let me cuddle you or not?” he whines, taking your hand away from his hair to press his lips softly on your fingers. Sleepy Jeongguk is one soft and mushy Jeongguk indeed. “Cold without you here.”

“Tempting, but pass,” you say, letting him wedge your hand between his lips and pillow. It lets your fingers graze the smallest of his cheek and you poke it playfully with what tiny room you have to move your fingers. “I promised your mom I’ll eat her pancakes with her.”

Your poking results in an exaggerated pout of your boyfriend’s lips, which lets out the most petulant sound you’ve ever heard come out of this man. “So you choose mom over me.”

He’s petulant, but his puckered lips are cute and tempting all the same, so you don’t resist the urge to lean down and give him a kiss right on his pillowy lips. “Pancakes,” you say after, slowly pulling your hand from his grasp. “Later, Jeon. Go to sleep, I’ll come back after eating.”

Jeongguk lets out a sound between a whine and a hum from deep inside his chest, nuzzling his pillow and letting his hair get even messier on top of his head. This time, you have to fight yourself from reaching out to run your hand through his hair again, to slip the stray strands behind his ear. Instead, you slip off his bed to finally go downstairs to Mrs. Jeon and her awaiting pancakes, but you find yourself stay rooted in place watching the steady rise and fall of Jeongguk’s chest as he slowly slips into slumber.

It’s not every day that you have the opportunity to map his face with your eyes like this—because most of the time he’d wake up earlier than you—so you take your time tracing over his features, from the way his bangs are covering his eyebrows, the ends of it touching his eyelashes, to his big nose that sometimes get red around the bridge from his glasses, to his very round and pinchable cheek, made more prominent by his shorter hair. Your eyes land on the pair of his lips last, now no longer pulled into a pout as soft breaths come out of it. The pair of lips with the piercing that started it all, the thing that got you addicted to having your lips against his, the tiny piece of jewelry that stays cold even when his lips are warm after working out.

Jeon Jeongguk is beautiful.

Your eyes are still stuck on the metal ring when the plush flesh around it spreads into a grin. “You’re staring, aren’t you?”

Caught red-handed, and he doesn’t even need to open his eyes.

“Shut up.” But still, his grin is contagious as you find one creeping onto your face as well. You shake your head to yourself, unable to believe just how much you love this guy. “Go to sleep, Jeon.”

“Mhm. Love you, babe,” he mumbles, then adds: “enjoy the pancakes.”

A chuckle bubbles up from your chest, finally getting your hand on the door to step out.

“Love you too. Sleep tight, baby.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this little drabble of sleepy jeongguk~ any feedback here would be very appreciated :) thank you for reading!

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #boxer!jungkook #boxer!gguk

[kookluvre]

gold is dull. || jjk || masterlist.

your once-love abandoned you to chase his dreams as a boxer, leaving you and unknowingly, at the time, his son. as much as you want to forget him, you can't. you see him on the billboard, tv commercials, and in your son's room, reminding you of everything you once were.

“momma! please take me to golden boy's fight! he’s fighting here! in our hometown. please, momma. for my birthday? i wanna see him in person!”

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

genre: boxer!jk, dilf!jk, single mom! oc, heavy angst, ex-boyfriend, eventual smut, fluff

warnings: financial struggles, mentions of off-screen death, angst, blood, fighting, mentions of pregnancy, *will be updated with every chapter *each chapter will have a warning tab

posting schedule: new chapter every tuesday!! (unless otherwise noted)

დmoodboards(teasers)

✩ playlist

❦ outfits

if you want to be added to taglist, please ask on this post დ

➺ chapter 1

"jungkook, the person you once believed was the love of your life, has turned into the stranger of your life."

♫: Come on Doom, Let's Party

➺ chapter 2

"it’s not a warm feeling, though. It’s something in between. it still feels strange. It’s the middle ground between cold and warm."

♫: Heal

➺ chapter 3

“you and me are never going to be okay. but…even if we aren’t, for him we are.”

♫: High Hopes

➺ chapter 4

"it’s slowly pulling him and he seeks a distraction to let himself enjoy everything before it completely consumes him."

♫: Falling

➺ chapter 5

“very happy that you are able to live with all this,” you spin around, imitating him, “with no remorse. no guilt. no conscience of leaving everyone behind. of leaving me behind. but who gives a shit, right?”

♫: lie

➺ chapter 6

"the look holds a certain longing to do more than just stare at each other. you feel the door that was opening up slowly, be slammed to its complete openness. the gaze has left you right at the entrance of his warm home."

♫: never let me go

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #fanfiction #masterlist #boxer jk #dilf jk #dilf!jk #bts series #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #dad jungkook #dilf jungkook #smut #bts smut #single mom oc #gold is dull #first series i write #angst #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook smut

[urmingirl]

230211 Jungkook's live

#the black chair tho #his hair #so pretty #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jk #bts jungkook #boxer jungkook #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bangtan #bts army #bts gifs #btsgif #jungkook gif #jungkookie #jjk

[alphabetboyluvr]

throttle │ jjk - two

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - just a littleeee (read: mostly) smut... fingering, titty sucking (his fave <3), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), creampie, post-creampie-pussy-eating, cum swapping, a little spitting i guess, titty worship, ?? more, maybe ??, idk, you get the idea. oh, and also dangerous driving and jk being down bad within like 5 seconds flat

word count - 13.4k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

Jungkook's cheeks are red, his nose blushed from the chill of the wind by the time you reach his place. It's just on the outskirts of town, past the jewellers' district and out towards the station, and it has you wondering why he's always getting fuel from your neck of the woods. It seems inconvenient, and if you were sober, you'd be questioning it. 

Sober, you might have even made assumptions about it.

Hell, you know you would be making assumptions about it.

But you're not sober, and he's got a hold on your hand like you're one of the priceless jewels in the windows you've just walked past.

You're gold dust; a diamond in amongst the rough of downtown Daegu.

In fact, he's holding you so tightly that it's almost as if there's a price on your head, and he wants to be the one to reap the rewards. No sharing. His, all his.

He doesn't loosen his grip on your hand as he begins to punch in the code to his apartment door. It's steel, and robust, hiding everything that Jungkook is behind it. You don't know him, not really - not like you want to - but there's something so painfully intimate about being invited into his space. Has you thinking that maybe you'll get the chance to know him. For a few hours, at least.

The lock beeps, a mechanical whir sounding as the bolt retracts, but he pauses as he puts pressure down on the handle.

"Can you, like, close your eyes?" He grimaces, glancing back around at you. His tongue is tipsy, about to make admissions he never would do sober. "I left in a rush, and there are clothes everywhere 'cause I couldn't decide what to wear and I-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you grin, eyes centred on his. "Did someone get pre-date nerves?"

Jungkook presses his eyes shut, smiling as he rolls his head back. He's never nervous. Always cool, calm, collected - but he can hear your little drunk giggles, and his heart rate is up, and shit, he thinks he might be nervous.

He knows he was nervous before he left. 

"I just-" he says with a frustrated groan, too exasperated to finish his sentence before he starts laughing, too. 

You're both a little tipsy, swaying, drawing closer to one another. It's innate, the way your body leans into his, with zero resistance from Jungkook as your hands grip the front of his coat for support.

"Shuuuush," he whispers, all giddy and coy, holding his index finger to your lips. It's almost as if he gives a fuck about his neighbours.

He doesn't.

He's just using it as an excuse to get closer to you.

"You shush!" You whisper back, mirroring his actions and holding your finger to his lips, too. 

His smile is so big that his dimples are on full display. They're as deep as his eyes are dark, and you just know he must have broken his fair share of hearts in the past. His hands cup your jaw, thumbs resting on the edges of your smile as if he's framing a work of art. He'd argue that he is. 

You look so dainty in his hold, and he finds himself overwhelmed with the need to savour your pretty little laugh. It'll taste just like his, but he doesn't care. Thinks it'll be sweeter coming from your lips. 

And, so, somewhere between your simpering laugh and his darting eyes, as a flickering light in his hallway beats in unison with your hearts, his lips find yours. 

He's still telling you to shush as he does so, and you tell him it back -  but neither of you actually shush until your tongues are in each other's mouths. 

He fumbles the keypad of his door again, getting you both through the threshold and into his tiny studio before you can even look at the mess of clothes everywhere.

The nerves he once had are gone, because he's confident about this; about you.

The movements of your bodies bleed into one another, neither one of you taking the lead. Instead, it's as if you're a pair of figure skaters gliding through his apartment, eyes closed - not that it makes much of a difference. The lights are off, and a string of fairy lights left up since Christmas provides the only source of illumination. 

Jungkook hadn't entirely planned on stumbling home drunk with you, but he knew he'd be stumbling home in some capacity, so leaving them on had seemed like a good idea at the time. He's proven right.  

And even though this night hasn't gone exactly how he had planned, he's not complaining. Especially not when your hands begin to fumble with his jacket. You undo it, push it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. 

Casual arrogance graces his lips as he smirks against you, unbuttoning the top of your skirt.

"I don't fuck on first dates," you tell him, but you don't stop him as he pushes the black denim over your hips and lets it fall to the floor. In fact, you're kind of giving him mixed signals as you reach for his belt, sliding the leather through its buckle.

"We've had, like, 300 GS25 dates," he mumbles into your lips between kisses, so casually that it's almost believable.

He pulls his shirt over his head, tosses it to the floor, and grabs your face just to kiss you again as soon as he can. 

It's about now, just after he's finished evaluating your 'dating' history, that you notice the pressure of two small metal balls flicking against your tongue. They're evenly spaced across the centre of his own tongue, and the mere acknowledgement of them has your legs clenching together. The lip ring was bad enough, but a tongue piercing? Fuck. 

He smiles as you moan into his lips, and assures you: "I think it's okay if we fuck."

Your hands are in his hair, his gripping onto your waistline before he rids you of your sweater, and all you can do is nod. Playing hard to get is a game for fools, and you're not really sure why you tried it in the first place. You're gonna be winning either way.

"Yeah, you're right," you mumble into his mouth. "We're basically married."

He laughs, and for a second you think that he must have been made by the Gods. It's the only way to explain how a human could be created so heavenly, even when they're about to commit enough sins to send them straight down to the pits.

"Happy honeymoon," he smirks, assisting you as you begin to push his jeans past his ass and down his thighs. Teamwork makes the dream work, after all.

You're both in your underwear, yet neither of you have even looked at the other's bodies yet. Too preoccupied. Too eager. Too consumed by the overwhelming need to feel one another.

His skin is warm, but the ridges of his torso are so hard that you'd be forgiven for thinking he's carved from stone.

Nudging his parted lips against yours, you gasp as his fingers curl in your hair.  Jungkook just claims your breaths as his own, pressing his lips firmly shut against yours.

One hand clasps your throat, keeping you secure, as the other trails up your thighs.

"Sure you wanna consummate this marriage?" He asks a little breathlessly, playing on the narrative you built up for this moment, just checking before he does anything he can't take back.

But you're impatient, and you don't think you could be any clearer even if you tried.

"Oh my god," you whine. "Just finger me already." 

Your words have him laughing all over again. He likes this, likes that you're not afraid to ask for what you want. He hadn't expected anything less, but it's satisfying to have his assumptions proven right. He kind of gets why you like making so many of them, now.

He fumbles about a little bit, not bothering to turn on the lights. It's not his first rodeo, and he doesn't think it's yours either - in fact, he knows it isn't. You wouldn't be so bold if it was. He doesn't embarrass easy, and knows that there are lessons to be learned with every new woman he acquaints himself with. You're no exception. 

"Gotta tell me what you like," he notes as he presses a kiss against your neck, the smell of your perfume so divine that he thinks you must be some kind of lorelei. It's like a meeting of black cherry and vanilla, but when his nose nestles into your hair, he can smell gasoline - and he thinks it might just be the hottest thing about you. 

You hum a response, the anticipation causing your heart to beat a mile a minute. He pushes the lace of your underwear to the side, his middle finger running between your folds. You're slick from his kisses alone, but so is he is. As you palm at the bulge in his pants, you can feel the wetness of precum leaking from his tip. He wants this just as much as you do.

"You can do better, little miss clutch control," he teases you. "Speak up."

Part of you wants to kick him in the balls. He's so sexy but so fucking annoying - he can hear how much you're enjoying his touch. He doesn't need confirmation - he just wants the gratification of hearing you say it. It's a power trip for him. You don't like giving men power.

"I like it when you shut the fuck up," you reply, hands in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. If your words won't do it, then at least your lips will. The vibration of his laugh hums into your mouth, before he pulls away - only by an inch or so.

"That's more like it."

His lips return to yours, as quickly as they left, while he continues to roam. His fingers stay in your underwear, the very tip of his index finger mapping you out. Your body shudders when he brushes your clit, the direct contact a little too much.

He dips down to your entrance, pauses, and says "been thinking about this since the moment I met you," and then pushes two of his fingers into your cunt.

Your walls are tight and hot, but oh-so fucking wet. There's nothing about your pussy that he doesn't love. His thick knuckles are celestial inside of you, just as cosmic as the reflection of his fairy lights in his eyes, and you find yourself thinking that maybe those tattooed hands of his are something special, after all.

"Bra off," he husks, and you do as you're told. He'd have done it himself, but his hands are a little preoccupied. 

He adjusts the pair of you as your bra hits the floor, encouraging your legs around his waist.  Hoisting you up before you really have a chance to comprehend what he's doing, you're pretty certain that this is just an excuse to display his strength. You're impressed, so it's working, but you're also unable to really think about anything other than the way he feels inside of you.

Your back is against the wall, the weight of his body keeping you pinned in position as he fucks his fingers into you. There's no real calculation to his movements, just an awareness that he absolutely cannot fuck you yet. He'll simply finish too quickly. 

It's not that he doesn't enjoy a quickie - truth be told, he finds them far more convenient - it's just that it would be mortifying. 

He's not sure he'd actually be able to show up at the gas station ever again if you heard him whine like a little bitch and unload himself in five seconds flat.

Equally, he doesn't want you to dread his car coming into the forecourt. 

He wants you daydreaming about him, all hazy-eyed, like you are when you're drunk, waiting for his car to roll in. He wants you musing about the way his tongue feels against your neck, and your coworker asking why you're smiling so much. He wants you blushing as you try to think of a justification, and he wants you excusing yourself to go to the bathroom to sort out the wetness pooling in your underwear. 

So, yeah. A quickie simply won't do.

He grips onto the side of your neck with his spare hand as he sinks his fingers into your pussy again. The way you gasp is like music to his ears, every single one of his senses overrun by the entity that you are. 

It's mutual though. You're consumed by everything that he is; his scent, the sound of his laboured grunts, the taste of his tongue and the feel of his hands all over your body. The only sense he isn't violating is your sight - but it's only 'cause he's making you feel so good that your eyes are forced to rest shut. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, exclusively watches you. He marvels at the way your head leans back against the wall, neck exposed for him to leave a trail of pretty purple bruises. He knows he shouldn't. Knows he shouldn't leave a single mark on your skin. Knows better than to leave evidence of his crimes, but it's a sin he thinks he'd quite like to commit over and over again.

You're pretty good at faking it. A string of careless lovers, of whom you used to entertain prior to learning your worth, had helped you to perfect a moan. You can manipulate your body, make your chest heave with exertion, your pussy throb around their fingers, their cocks. You can make it leak, get yourself looking like a fucking mess for them, as if it's because of them. It's a fine art. 

Botticelli would admire you, you think. His Venus couldn't compete with you. Femme fatal; a kisser of jaws, a killer of the men you have to let down gently because they fall too in love with you for your liking. Understandably, given what you can do. You've mastered it. Mastered men.

And it's for this reason, that you don't fake anymore. If someone isn't pleasing you, you let them know. You view it as a way of helping humanity - or their future girlfriends, at least. Why waste time letting someone else think they're getting you off, when it's you doing all the hard work?

You'd gone into this prepared; ready to remedy what would inevitably be a disappointing shag with a near stranger.

But you're not throbbing around Jungkook's fingers - you're trembling. There's no self-made stutter in your chest, but there's one a little lower down, one that you've got absolutely no jurisdiction over. Y'see, the way you're gasping, like you're struggling against a riptide, caught in the wave that is Jeon Jungkook, can't be faked. 

It's what has him smirking as he puts pressure behind the kisses he's placing on your neck. It's the fact that every time you try and speak, even if it's just a curse or the sound of his name, it's cut short. You've no control. Fuck all. It's all on him, on account of him being inside you. If he's learnt anything about you in the short time that he's known you, it's that you're never speechless. Always getting that last word in. 

But you can't even formulate one now, his fingers pumping into you at such a speed, that the lewd wet noise is almost louder than your moans. Almost.

Jungkook isn't a jealous kind of guy, especially not when it comes to casual hookups - but he kind of thinks he's jealous of his own fucking fingers. 

Every single part of him wants your pussy; his tongue, his cock. You feel so good around him that he regrets not making a move sooner. Should have asked to fuck you as soon as you started talking about his car on his first visit to the gas station. Lord knows he thought about it.

His lips are on yours, not really kissing you, resting open, his breaths heavy and laboured. The way he's pushing into you, deeper, deeper, has you mirroring his expression, small moans pouring into his mouth. He wants to eat them up, devour them, use them as fuel.

You loosen the grip you have in his pale hair, gripping onto his neck with one hand, the other falling to his bicep. He likes the scratch of your nails against his bare skin, but there's a distance between you both that he wants to close. He pulls his hand from beneath your ass, relying on his core strength alone to keep you pressed into the wall, and reaches for your fingers. Intertwining them, he places his hand, with yours beneath it, back against the wall, above your head. 

The change in position has your chest lifting, almost as if your tits are begging to have his lips around them - and who is he to refuse?

His tongue finds your nipple, flicking against the hardened nub before sucking it between his lips. The vibration of his studs against your sensitive bud has your back arching. He sucks you further into his mouth, tongue lapping against you, before he releases your nipple - but it's so puffy, and wet, and perfect, and fuck- he can't help himself, teasing at it again with his tongue. 

So fixated on how you feel in his mouth, he's forgotten that he meant to be fucking you. His cock throbs beneath his boxers, as his fingers are kept warm by your walls, slick wetness creaming around the base of his knuckles and dripping down his palm.

His apartment is small, so it only takes him a moment to move you from the wall and toss you down into his sheets. There's a waft of his fabric conditioner as he does so, floral and soft. It's hard to imagine a man so broad, so handsome, so god damn irresistible, paying any attention to laundry - but you suppose it must just add to his charm.

"C'mere," you whine, as he takes a moment to take in the sight of you. Missing the way he feels, you pull him down onto the bed -  but he's scared that even just rutting against you will have him spilling himself all over your stomach. Instead, he places himself beside you, and gets to work.

There's a familiarity now, his mouth taking your nipple again, wet and wanting, as his fingers toy with your pussy. He's not sure which he prefers, your pussy or tits, but he's more than happy to play with them both. His thumb presses on your swollen clit, and you writhe beneath him. "You like that, huh?"

You try and respond, but his thumb begins to rub languid circles against you. If you couldn't muster a word before, then like fuck can you speak now.

"Huh?" he teases, teeth grazing your hardened nipple, now. His finger strokes at your walls as he sinks into you once more, on the hunt for something that no one has ever been able to find, except you. The way your legs are tensing lets him know he's close. 

"I asked if you like that." He's only a knuckle deep, stroking pretty little circles against your walls. Closer. You whine. "Don't go all shy on me now, doll."

Your body writhes beneath his, toes curling, teeth digging down on his shoulder in a failed attempt at keeping quiet. He hopes you'll leave a mark. His thumb presses a little harder against your clit, encircling it with pressure so deep that you're almost certain you'll die from his touch.

"Don't stop," is all you can manage. "Don't stop- fuck."

"Better," he says, pressing a kiss into your neck. You can feel his precum leaking onto your thigh, and the idea of him dirtying you has you insatiable. He can tell you're at his level now, so close to finishing that it won't be embarrassing when he's done in five-seconds-flat -  but the way you're putty in his hands has him unable to stop himself. He's gotta make you cum. Needs to. 

He presses his thumb down, fingers up, as if he's pinching them together, and then he's stroking and - "Oh, fuck it. Right there. Right fucking there." - he's found it. 

He's fucking found it, the little ridge in your pussy that up until now has been just for you. You've lied before, told guys they've hit your g-spot and faked a little something that convinces them of it - but it's never been like this. Ever. Not even when you find it. 

Jungkook follows your commands. He won't stop, doesn't stop, not even when your nails grab at his wrist because the pleasure is so unbearable, so intense, that it fucking hurts. 

"Like that," you encourage, knowing your grip probably says otherwise. "Like that, fuck."

He does as he's told, and keeps like that, lips latching onto your nipple, sucking just as hard as his fingers are massaging. The slickness of your walls compared with the texture of your g-spot has him going insane. He doesn't think it's his first time finding such a sacred spot, but it's never been this easy, and the reaction has never been this good. 

You moan out his name, 'cause he's all you can think about. Any and all articulation of your pleasure goes on him.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, forgetting that he doesn't know you nearly well enough to be addressing you like that, but he doesn't slow down. You just moan. He can call you whatever the fuck he wants at this point. It's too good. Too much.

"Kook, I-" you try, but your hips are bucking, and there's fuck all you can do to stop it.

"Just a little more, baby," he promises you. 

He will make you cum. Will do whatever it takes, if needs be. The tip of his cock is red and leaky against your thigh, ready to fuck into you, but he doesn't give a shit. Your walls are hot. Burning hot. And then they're throbbing, and your torso begins to tense. You whisper his name like a secret prayer, legs trying to close around the welcome intrusion of his hand. 

"That's it," he keens. "Cum for me, doll. All over my fingers. That's it."

You're fucking mewling as your body shudders against his. There's no dignity left in your body. It's pooling in the palm of his hand, slick and slippery, just where he wants it.

"You're unreal," he hums, drawing the last of your little death from you. "Fucking insane, babe. So fucking hot."

Turns out the Grim Reaper had made an appearance that evening, just in the form of a 6-foot adonis, who knows his way around a pussy like he does a bloody electric switchboard. 

You're panting, and so is he, his lips curving against your skin. Neither of you speaks for a minute, both casually aware that it - this, the night - isn't over yet. 

And then Jungkook just thinks to hell with acting coy, or playing it cool. You're naked in his bed, and so is he. No point in beating around the bush (unless you're into it).

"Wanna eat you out," he says as he presses a kiss into your neck, placing himself more centrally over you. Your chest is still heaving, and the thought of cumming again makes you feel all dizzy. His elbows are rested by your head, cock stiff against your tummy. You wrap your arms around his neck, toying with his pretty blonde hair. "Wanna fuck you first, though."

There's a logistical step to be taken there. You're on birth control, and the subject of regularly testing had come up during a particularly suggestive conversation over dinner. You both know he'll be fucking you raw - which means he's finishing raw, too.

"But-"

"I don't care," he mumbles into your lips, a little rough, claiming them as his own. He really doesn't give a fuck if it means eating his own cum. Not like he hasn't done it before. He's probably just gonna spit it into your mouth, anyways.

He pulls his hips back to line himself up. The tip of his cock nudges into you slowly, gently, and then he eases himself forward. It burns, the thickness of his shaft spreading you in a way that his fingers couldn't. It's bliss. Divine. Heavenly, and yet absolute sin. 

He revels in the way you feel, for a moment, letting your walls stretch before he sinks into you fully. You curse as he does so, the pain overridden by pleasure. His hips begin to pick up pace, eyes on yours to make sure that you're okay as he ploughs into you. 

It's like he's digging for diamonds, almost. Funny thing is, when you gasp, eyes all wide and focused on his, it's looks like he's found them in your eyes. It's just the reflection of his fairy lights, but the illusion fools him.

Looking at you is too much for him to handle, so Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. He really wasn't kidding when he figured he'd finish in no time at all. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls.

"Gonna make me cum," he drowsily mewls, fucking himself into you like it's where he belongs. 

His body is clammy against yours, stamina impressive but dwindling. His thrusts are getting sloppy, and so are his kisses, but you kind of love it like this; Jungkook so out of control he isn't even trying to keep a pace anymore. The rhythm of your body beneath his, the way he fits inside of you, how soft and warm your tits are as they pillow against his chest, it's all too much for him. 

He's so deep he's practically kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and yet he still hooks your leg over his elbow. He needs to be deeper. 

"Gonna make me cum so much. You want that, huh? Wanna be the reason I cum?" he grunts, and then his words become needy. "Tell me you want it, doll. Tell me."

He licks into your mouth, toying with your tongue before you even get a chance to respond.

"Don't want it," you pant, his harsh thrusts interrupting your words. He's about to be offended, all needy and pouty while he's buried inside you, but you're biting down on your lip and - oh, god - he's obsessed. "Need it. Cum for me. Want it so bad."

He smiles against your cheek as his hips move languidly between your legs. One of his hands comes down to your hip to help him control himself, but he can't. Not when he can feel you smiling, too. He laughs a little, soft and mellow against your skin - and when you do the same thing back, Jungkook knows he's absolutely done for.

"I'm gonna-" he rasps, unable to finish his sentence. "Where? Where do you want me?"

You don't say anything, just tighten the grip of your legs around his waist. You're a fucking mess, mentally, physically. He's ruined you in every sense of the word.

"Sure?"

"Sure," you pant against his skin, before repeating your earlier claim. "Need it. Need you."

It's a lie. You don't. You barely know him - but you feel so in tune, so aligned, when he's inside you that it feels like your pussy is the only place his cum deserves to be. It'd be wasted on your tits (though Jungkook would definitely disagree).

"God," he groans. "Don't say shit like that."

Jungkook has severely underestimated just how much of a little bitch you can be.

"Like what?" you pout as his thrusts get even sloppier, his skin slapping against yours. "What can't I say? How much I need you?"

He curses your name, lips showering you in pretty kisses. His tongue finds its home inside your mouth, but it's just an attempt to shut you up. A pretty good one, in all fairness. The way his studs feel against your tongue has you dripping around the base of his cock.

You can hear it; Jungkook slipping in and out of your soaked pussy like you're fire and he's ice.

"Need you," you simper again, just to fuck with him a little more. "Need to feel you fill me up."

"You want it that bad, huh?"

He pulls himself back a little, sitting up on his heels, holding onto your hips as he fucks himself into you. Your tits pillow on your chest, bouncing in time with his thrusts, hypnotising him, almost. You're smiling as your forearms cover your eyes, a little shameful of being caught in such a compromising position, but loving it nonetheless.

"Looking a little shy, there," he says, but his tone is so low it almost sounds like a growl. You pull your arms away, and he's amazed that you can still manage to raise a brow and throw him a pissed off glare even when he's balls deep in you. Truth be told, it just makes him want you even more. He's fond as he smiles at you. "There she is."

Even if you can't fake your orgasms for him, you can still fake annoyance.

"You gonna cum, or what?" You sigh, and then he's laughing, sinking back down, elbows either side of your head as he kisses you. "All men do is lie."

"Not gonna cum," he says, and you're right - it is a lie. "Just gonna keep fucking you forever."

"I have work tomorrow."

"Fuck if I care," he sinks his tongue back into your mouth, briefly, just to remind you who's really in control here. "Said I'll fuck you forever, so forever it is."

There's a bell chiming in your tummy, and you're not able to convince yourself that it's just another building orgasm. It's still him, though, in a round about way.

"We're not allowed to bring our pets to work," you deadpan. "No can do."

Jungkook stops thrusting, and pulls his head back, almost to look at you in disbelief. He's smiling, and he's so desperately turned on that his balls fucking hurt, but he's never been more perplexed in bed. You're equal parts a siren and a little shit.

You're grinning too, pleased to have rendered him speechless. "What is it, huh? Cat got your tongue?"

He smirks, now. "Nah. Not yet. But it will."

And then he's back at it, hips erratic, building such a pace that you can't even think, let alone come out with some dumb remark.  

"Still need it, huh?" He recites your words back to you, voice raspy and hushed, so close it feels like his body could give out at any second. He's edging himself, trying to make it last just a little bit longer, but it's so wet, and you're so fucking tight, and he's throbbing, and grunting and - fuck - it's so fucking good he might just die. 

"You're gonna look so pretty when I fill you up," he moans, before correcting himself. "Already pretty. So fucking pretty."

His hips slap against yours, once, twice, and then it's happening. 

He buries himself in you, body tense as a shiver runs down his spine. Your nails dig into his back, a hushed whine escaping from his mouth and getting lost in your hair. 

His cock unloads thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy, coating you with the very essence of everything that he is. It's overindulgent and unrestrained. Fuck if it isn't the most full you've ever felt, ropes of thick cum spurting into you like he was built to fucking breed.

He pumps himself gently inside you for a moment or so, just to ease the remainder of his hot cum into you. The sound is lewd as he adjusts, his job very much done.

Neither of you speak for a moment, hedonism taking heed. The way his heart beats in his chest is unlike anything you've ever felt before. In fact, you're almost in a state of shock, and so is he.

Only for a moment, though. He's not actually done yet.

Your first orgasm was cute - but there's no way he's letting you see him that pathetic, that weak, without making sure you end up in the exact same state. 

He presses a few kisses to your damp neck, laughing softly. "Get what you wanted?"

Looking at you, brown eyes all big and sparkling, he pulls his torso back up, ass resting on his heels, before checking the state of his cock as he withdraws himself. 

You're smiling as you watch him stare at where the pair of you meet with such devotion that it's hard not to feel a little enamoured with him. Even if it is just a casual fuck.

"Got what I wanted." Your voice is light and airy, like you're a Disney princess waking up from centuries of slumber. Might not have had true loves kiss, but you bet none of them has ever had a fuck like Jungkook. 

You pout a little when he finishes pulling out, sad to have lost the feeling of fullness. He catches your expression, and smiles. 

"Cute," he says a little mindlessly, articulating a thought that wasn't meant to be shared.

"Shut up," you reply, embarrassed, but he doesn't mind. Not in the slightest. In fact, he loves that you didn't want him to leave. Kind of wishes that he could have kept his cock buried inside you, instead.

But Jungkook is a man of convictions, and a firm believer that he'll simply die if he can't eat you out.

You sort of think the moment has passed, that it was something he said in the heat of the moment. Figure now he's orgasmed, he's finished - but Jungkook is an endurance athlete, not a sprinter. There's still a hurdle left to jump.

He presses your legs apart so that he can look at you. Your hole is creamy and fucked out, his load slowly seeping out of you with every beat of your heart. His fingers dip just beneath your entrance, collecting his cum on them, before he pushes it back into you. He doesn't look at you, just your cunt, as he says, "told you you'd look pretty full of my cum."

The way he's staring at you, like a man who hasn't eaten for days being presented with a three course meal, has you feeling all hot and bothered.

You're satisfied. The sex you just had was enough. More than enough - but you're getting weak at the knees again, his desire infectious. You can't remember a time you've ever wanted someone as badly as you want him. Not for any deeper reason than the selfish fact that he makes you feel good. It's pure lust, no romance about it.

His fingers continue to push his cum into you, stroking up and down your walls, applying just enough pressure to let you know he's there.

He moves his body back, keeping his fingers snug inside you - and then he lowers his body, just a couple of inches from you. His breath feels cold against the slick wetness covering your pussy. 

"Also told you I wanted to eat you," he adds, as if you need reminding.

His spare hand strokes down the inside of your thigh before it reaches your hot core, and he begins to toy with your pussy. He spreads your lips open, just like he did your legs, and then he's studying you. Figuring out ways he can get your squirming. 

The first initial contact is brief; the tip of his tongue licking across the top of your clit. A parched moan escapes your lips, and he smiles. "There?"

"There," you moan, eyes closed, head pushed back into his pillows. 

He does it again, tongue a little flatter, a little firmer. You feel his piercing against you this time, smooth and hard. Your clit is snug between the two studs, like it was made to be there. He does it again. Wetter, deeper. And again. Slower, harder - and then his speed builds. 

He licks up and down across your clit, rolling it beneath his tongue, once, twice- and then you lose count, so lost in ecstasy that all you can think about is his tongue lapping at your cum-filled cunt, plugged with his fingers.

Occasionally, he sucks gently on your clit, just to earn a little extra moan from you. It works every single time.

You're leaking around his fingers at this point, so close to cumming again that it's impossible to keep your legs open. He feels the pressure of your thighs against his head, and it only serves to encourage him. His speed builds, both his tongue and his fingers meeting with your pussy at such divine speeds that you're sure you'll cum in such an undignified manner that'll he'll perhaps regret his choices.

As your muscles begin to tense, his head in a literal death grip, he smiles, dimples deep and lips pretty against your pussy. Jungkook is utterly enthralled with how it feels to have his face between your thighs. 

He keeps his eyes closed, letting himself experience the sensations of your body completely unadulterated. If he could see you, he'd be so obsessed with the view that he might not savour you in the way that he wants to. He wants to taste you, to smell you, to feel how soft and warm you are. If he wasn't obsessed before (which he was), then he definitely is, now.

The pressure builds, his tongue lapping against you, one of your hands tangled in his messy blonde hair, the other holding one of your boobs for a little moral support. 

You're too far gone to even let him know you're about to come undone all over again. He knows, though. He can feel you pulsing, and then you're gasping, and panting, and mewling and fuck, he loves the way you sound.

Your muscles throb as he brings you to orgasm. It's so undignified that you're certain you'll never cum like this again. Your abdomen flexes involuntarily, making sure your orgasm is signed, sealed, delivered to you. He pushes your legs apart again, glancing up towards you as he licks one final stripe up your exposed mess.

You ignore the slick on his fingers that's now coating your thigh as he spreads them apart, too busy with the fact his chin is soaked, hair a mess, nose blushed. He's watching your entrance seep; a mixture of himself and you. 

It's hard to know what belongs to who, but as he dips down and licks it up with the tip of his pointed tongue, the ownership is clear. It doesn't matter whose is whose, because your pussy belongs to him, now. 

It's all his. 

He gathers the creamy slick on his tongue, and then he pulls on your hand to encourage you into a sitting position.

You're putty in his hands, doing whatever he tells you, which is albeit very little. In fact, he doesn't say anything - just looks at your lips, then your eyes, and clasps your jaw. 

He opens his mouth and pools his tongue, letting the mess that you've both made sit prettily in his mouth, dancing over his studs. He nods gently, moving his thumb from your jaw to your pillowy bottom lip, pressing down on it. 

Open. 

He's insatiable. Wants his cum on your tongue, but wants yours on his, too.

You spread your lips apart, eyes exclusively on his. Your tongue flicks against his thumb.

And then you nod.

Please.

Jungkook is slow in his approach, tentative as he holds your jaw, bringing your closer to him. His tongue licks into your mouth, swiping against yours, swapping his cum between the pair of you. It's a languid exchange, slow and sensual, neither of you caring for the boundaries that are being crossed. 

He pulls away from you, hand gripping your jaw again. You open your mouth instinctively, just like he wants you to. Neither of you pay any attention to his phone, which is flashing on the floor next to his bed. 

Spit gathers in his mouth, rinsing himself of the pair of you as he draws you closer to him, your mouth still resting open. He spits directly into it. You whimper a little as he does so, his grip on your jaw keeping your mouth open for him to observe just how messy it is; all thanks to him.

"Swallow," he tells you, easing his grip, and so you do. 

Lips closed, you swallow everything; his spit, his cum, your cum, all of it. When he grips your jaw again, you know the drill, but it doesn't stop him from commanding you. 

"Open."

He's pleased when you do, mouth all pretty and clean for him to ruin again - but instead, he just kisses you softly, hands on your cheeks, pushing your bodies back down into his sheets. There's a tenderness to the way in which he touches you; as if he realises you sacrificed a little dignity for him, so he's trying to restore it.

He's hard again - had never really softened, in all honesty - but he's too sensitive to do anything about it.

"Stay," he mumbles against your lips. Your hands are in his hair, keeping him close, as your legs wrap around his waist. "Stay the night. Wanna wake up to this."

You moan into his lips. His cock is firmly pressed into your stomach, his naked body warm against yours. 

There's something about the weight of his body, the firmness of his muscular chest against the soft pillow of your own, that is unrivalled by any other sleeping arrangement you could think of.

And despite knowing exactly what he's saying, and being far too skeptical to think he means anything other than sex, you still choose to toy with him a little.

"Wake up to what?" You purr into his lips, aware that your hips are languidly rolling against him again. 

He kisses down your neck, laughing softly to himself. His smile vibrates against your skin, and, for a moment, it's your favourite feeling in the whole entire world.

"To you."

You're pretty sure he can feel the way your pulse skips a beat in your neck. But again, you're difficult. And this arrangement definitely isn't anything more than just sex.

"You mean to my pussy, right?"

He presses pretty little kisses back up your neck, along your jaw and into your lips. They're cute. Kind. Romantic, even. 

"Oh, a hundred percent," he grins against your lips, and then you're laughing too.

"You're so mean," you pout, as if you weren't the one to put the words into his mouth. There's a dimple etched into his cheek, eyes all hazy and sparkling as he shakes his head. He thinks you look adorable when you pout. So damn cute. He steals another kiss, and protests.

"Made you cum twice," Jungkook says, and has the audacity to scrunch his nose, acting all cute and shit. You're embarrassed, bringing your hands from his hair to cover your face, which you just know is flaming red. "I think that's actually pretty nice of me." 

He pulls one of your hands away from your face, and kisses your knuckles. His smile matches yours - because while yes, you're embarrassed, you're still riding the post-fuck high, too.

"You also spat in mouth," you remind him, and then he's cringing. Jekyll and Hyde have nothing on Jungkook when it comes to him and, well, him in bed. "That's not very nice."

He covers his eyes with his hands, but his teeth are still on show, smile prevailing. "Shut up."

And then he's kissing you again, 'cause fuck it, he just can't stop himself. 

It's been a while since he last got like this. In fact, he probably hasn't been this giddy post-fuck since he was a teenager. He's normally in the shower by this point, ridding himself of whoever he's been inside - but he doesn't have the compulsion to do that with you.

He knows that when he breaks from the spell you've cast upon him, he'll be back to reality. The fairy dust will settle on the ground like ashes, and the magic that once was will become nothing but malice.

There's a bridge to be crossed.

Jungkook has been fixing it up - repairing the cracks, making it sturdy - but he's not sure he wants what's on the other side, anymore. Not when you're in his bed, not when he can feel your chest wobble with every little laugh you do, and not when your nails are tenderly scratching at his scalp.

See, he likes being on this side of the bridge. Likes being with you.

But if he doesn't cross it, the trolls beneath it will inevitably come for him.

And so he asks you to stay again, but this time he says it like he means it.

"I want you to stay with me," he speaks quietly, rolling off of you and curling up beside you, reaching for the duvet that ended up at the end of his bed. He brings it back over your bodies, as if he's locking you in. You have to stay now.

You turn to face him, curling up too, mirroring him. Your fingers delicately tuck strands of his beautiful blonde hair behind his ear, ignoring the way his eyes are focused on you. Instead, you watch your hand as it moves, curiously touched by the fact he wants you to stay. You don't peg him as guy who often wants a girl to stay.

You're right to assume that.

Right to assume that he normally doesn't do this.

One night stands? Yeah, sure. He's had a handful - but never at his place. He doesn't like inviting people back to his apartment. It feels too personal. He likes being able to leave. He doesn't do the whole waking up together thing - no matter how much he likes morning sex (of which he does ( a LOT)).

But Jungkook's thinking about that bridge again.

He's thinking about the fact he knows shouldn't be at home right now.

He's thinking about the fact that you should be at home right now.

He's thinking about the fact his phone is on silent, and that Namjoon is probably cursing him out on voicemail right now.

But then you kiss him, and for a moment, he forgets again.

"I get grouchy when I'm hungover," you warn him, giving him an out, just in case he wants to retract his offer.

"Mhmm," he hums, pulling you into his chest. Your legs intertwine as he squeezes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're grouchy when you're not hungover."

You laugh, cheeks plump and full, resting right where his heart is pumping a little faster than usual.

"You're lucky you're a good fuck, or else I'd be out of that door ASAP."

It's a lie, and you both know it.

"Thank god for my cock," he says, grinning like an absolute twat. 

He decides that he's still really drunk. It's the only way to explain how his body feels all disjointed but perfectly together at the same time.

"Thank god for your cock."

────────────

You're still awake as the sun begins to rise. He's mumbling, saying something about how a town in Alaska has a cat for a mayor, while your head rests on his bare chest.

He's a little clammy, the smell of sex stuck to him. Neither of you have showered yet. You enjoy the way your bodies are a little sticky, skin on skin, as if you're made for his bed; for him.

Every now and again, his hands roam out of the realm of safety, and you find your breath hitching, toes curling, lips parting. It's always accompanied by the sound of an airy smirk from Jungkook.

You learn that he's obsessed with your chest. Your tits, more specifically. So pillowy, so soft. A gift bestowed upon you from Venus herself, he thinks, or at least he would, if he knew who Venus was.

He just wants to hold them forever. In his hands, in his mouth, he doesn't care. He'll put his dick between them too, eventually. Another time. He's too sensitive right now. But definitely one day, and definitely soon.

A little sunlight pours in, and you watch speckles of dust as they dance around in the air. When he laughs, soft and serene in the hazy atmosphere of a post-fuck come down, it's nice. You imagine that you'd quite like to do this again. You hope he feels the same.

"Just think it's funny," he says, toying with your fingers. "How a cat can do a better job than fully grown men."

"Pussy power," you smile, and so does he, before he presses a kiss into your hair. It still smells like gasoline and he still thinks it's the sexiest thing in the world. It's funny, 'cause if you knew it smelt that way, you'd feel insecure about it. It's why he doesn't mention it. Doesn't want you withdrawing from his touch.

He nestles down, shifts his naked body beneath his duvet but keeps you close. His legs interlock with yours and his lips find a home on the curve of your shoulder. "I'm really glad you said yes."

The comment seems out of the blue, but it's not. Your thoughts have been echoing in his mind, too. It sounds a lot like vulnerability. To him, it feels more like he's laying down a safety net. Making his intentions clear. Doesn't want you second-guessing. Not this, at least. He knows the way you like to theorise.

"You didn't really give me a choice," you rib, as if that chime isn't back in your diaphragm.

He squeezes you tightly. "Don't say that. You could have said no."

You shuffle down, tilt your head, and press a kiss into his chest, just between his pecks. Sweet like honey, your lips trail across, placing delicate kisses in pride of place.

His firm muscle; one, two. His dark nipple; a flick of your tongue, one, two. Just above his beating heart; one, two, three.

Your lips feather across his collarbone and land where tattoo leaks ever so slightly onto the top of his chest. You sign the art with your kisses like the ultimate thief. Stolen. Yours, now.

"You'd have still shown up regardless."

And you're right, he would have done.

Not for any grand romantic gesture, nor to coerce you into something you didn't want. He's just got a job to do, that's all.

He doesn't respond, but you don't really notice.

By the time you're dressed and leaving his apartment, the 503 is running. He offers to pay for your fare, but you tell him that it's fine, and hop on the bus as if your insides don't burn. It's been a while since you had a workout that vigorous.

There are a few old women and a middle-aged man in a business suit taking the same journey as you.

Your cheeks flush crimson when you start to think about the ache in the pit of your stomach, right beneath that little chime that likes to ding every now and again. That feeling? The one that made you quietly gasp as you sat down? That's Jungkook.

The acknowledgement ruminates. It's insidious. Has you feeling all dirty.

You wonder if they know. The people on the bus, the one's sat around you. They couldn't possibly know, not really, but you brood over the notion that you give off an aura; one that says you've just been fucked by the most beautiful man you've ever laid eyes upon.

You wonder if the old ladies glance at you and long for the days when they'd go home with strangers.

You wonder if the middle-aged man is responding to the pheromones you're releasing without realising it, cock a little plump in his pants.

It's a morbid curiosity, but one that makes you feel all hot, and sticky, and sordid. Makes you feel good, too. A little dangerous. A little bit like you wanna get off the 503 and leg it back to Jungkook's place.

It has you reaching for your phone, pulling up kakaotalk and clicking through on your most recent contact. There's still a message at the top of your thread, warning about spam, or fraud, or whatever it is. You don't read it. Too busy typing away.

You're about to press send on a poorly thought out message when your phone vibrates in your palm. You pause. Cringe. Are aware that Jungkook will have seen how quickly you read his own message that's just come through to you.

꾹:  i wanna do that again.

You: the galbi or the sex?

꾹: both.

꾹: mainly the sex, though.

꾹: the galbi i can take or leave.

Your legs press together, and realise you're squirming in your seat. It's subtle, but anyone who's looking at you must know.

You: funny, im the opposite.

You:  id die for the galbi.

You:  sex was alright.

꾹: wow, a glowing review.

꾹: can i add it to my tinder profile?

Like fuck you can, you think to yourself. If he's still active on tinder after the night you had together, you'll do the reasonable thing and learn witchcraft just so you can hex him. You tell yourself you're just joking, but honestly, the idea is tempting.

You: uh-huh.

You: you can put it right beneath a bullet point where you let them know how much you like eating your own cum :)

꾹:  technically, you ate it.

꾹: i just delivered it :)

You: thank you for your services.

꾹: any time.

You: tonight?

꾹: please.

And so he arrives at the gas station just before nine, hood up, angelic strands of blonde hair tickling over his eyes. He's got a mask on, like he usually does, a black turtle neck resting prettily around his throat. An earth-toned flannel shirt peeks out from the bottom of his jacket, where the hem meets a pair of black jeans. He has a charm about him that makes the world stop turning for a moment when you first look at him.

He's not really sure how to greet you. With a kiss? A high five? Neither of these seems like a good idea, so he just does an awkward half-bow, which leaves cringing.

"Just gotta cash up," you smile from behind the kiosk. "You walked?"

He shakes his head. "Parked around the corner again. Didn't wanna block the forecourt."

It's a reasonable enough excuse, even if a little weird. You finish what you're doing, cash up, give Jieun the keys (and ignore the way she's grinning at you) and then toss your jacket over your shoulders. He walks beside you as you leave the store, popping your hood up again just like he did the night before. "It's windy."

The forecast said it would rain, too, but Jungkook doesn't know this. Doesn't actually give a shit about the weather. Just needs excuses to put your hood up.

"So I've been thinking," he says as you make your way to the side lane.

"Dangerous," you quip, but he ignores it - though he does nudge you a little. You let your body move in accordance with his, swaying back into him slightly. Like a swinging pendulum, you're about to recoil, but Jungkook's arm drapes around your shoulders, keeping you close. The scent of his clothes is a mix of fresh cotton and WD-40. It makes you laugh, how much a walking juxtaposition he really is.

"I've been thinking," he reinforces, and pauses just in case you're planning on interrupting again - but you don't. You want to hear his thoughts. All of them. No matter how big or small. "What if... What if we skip the sex tonight?"

You don't respond immediately, walking around to the passenger's side of his car. He clicks down on his key, opening up the locks. The lights flood your features, illuminating you in warm hues, reds and oranges, as if to send Jungkook a warning: she's dangerous.

"Skip the sex?" You raise a brow, ignoring the butterfly atrium that has spontaneously constructed beneath your ribs. "You lured me here under false pretences, Mr Gimbap."

He doesn't question the nickname. Figures he'll find out its origins this evening. After all, all he wants to do is talk.

Talk about you, where you come from, where you plan on going. He wants to know more; what makes you tick, your favourite chocolate bar wrapper joke, if you really meant what you said about not fucking on first dates. Wants to know if he's special. Wants to know if he gets to you the same way you do to him.

He'll ask you about your favourite Shakespeare play, and he'll hope that you'll say Romeo & Juliet. It's the only one he's read.

You'll tell him that it's not a representation of love, and he'll say he knows. He doesn't - he just won't want you to think that he bases his idea of romance on such ill-fated endeavours. Thinks it's about stars-crossing, illicit affairs, love that prevails. Shit like that.

He isn't really sure what it all means, but he's seen the Baz Luhrmann adaptation, and that's enough.

You'll say that Romeo is an ass, and he'll feign offence and tell you that you'll never be his Juliet. It'll earn him a laugh from you. That's fine; you never wanted to be her.

You're a Beatrice in search of her Benedict, after all - and the way that the pair of you bicker, it seems like you might have just found him - even if he does think he's a Romeo. Twat.

"I didn't," he laughs in response to your earlier statement. "I just like to know the girls I'm sticking my dick in, that's all."

"Ohh, romance," you whistle through pursed lips, throwing him a coy smile.

He nods towards the buckle by your seat and tells you to do the belt up, as his key turns in the ignition. There's a small rumble, his exhaust rattling as fumes begin to bluster around the end of the pipe. He's listening again, revving the engine ever so gently, foot on the throttle.

The way he cares for his motor makes you laugh. He's so temperate, so careful - but you know he abuses the engine like no tomorrow whenever he races it. He treats it almost as if it's a racehorse; something with actual feelings.

You do as you're told, clicking the belt into place, and remind him to do the same.

"The girls?" You question as he passes you the aux. "Multiple?"

There's a static click as you plug it into your phone, before your playlist starts up again. His hands move like machines, smooth and automatic as he slips into first gear.

"The girls," he echoes, eyes flicking up to the rear-view mirror, and then over his shoulder to check the blind spots, before easing onto the main road.

"Charming," you say dryly.

It's not like you hadn't assumed this already. You had already decided that he at least had a friend with benefits lurking about (even if she had become too clingy (actually, no, especially if she had become too clingy)).

You'd figured that it was where he had been on the night that he was a no show - but then he'd shown up all apologetic and shit. You had let his innocent eyes win your skeptical mind over.

"Guys aren't really my thing," he follows up, sensing your discomfort. He knows he's beating around the bush, not giving you the answer that you want - and he also knows that you're getting in your head about it. Knows you'll be questioning what he means, and if he's sleeping with anyone else. He'd be within his right to. You barely know each other. Where he sticks his dick isn't really any of your business. "And I'm hardly a virgin, am I?"

"Gasp," you say. "You're not?! Could have fooled me."

He's smiling again.

You like how much he does that around you. Wonder if he's like that around other girls, too.

"Was I really that bad?" He flirts.

Jungkook knows how to fuck. He's been given enough positive reviews to know that he's anything but bad. Although... he kinda is. But in a good way. In the way that you want him to be bad.

"I've had better."

Liar.

"Ouch," he laughs as he presses down on his indicator for the next left. "Guess I'll just have to keep practising."

City lights cascade over the pair of you as his car rolls through the quiet streets, splintering like refractions of a mirror ball. He hates that he has to keep his eyes on the road. Wants to drink in the way you look almost as much as he wants to drink up the way you taste again. The night is dark, the moon hiding behind a fluffy cloud that looks like charcoal cotton candy beneath its radiant light. Jungkook loves nights like these; likes them even better with you in his passenger seat.

Green flashes over your features as he passes beneath a traffic light. You cross your legs, adjusting your posture. It's so subtle that you don't even realise you're doing it - but Jungkook does.

"On your other girls?"

There she is, he thinks. It's what he's been waiting for. Confirmation that the idea of him fucking other girls irritates you. He reaches across and taps your knee. He enjoys the predictability of you.

You resist the gentle nudge of his hand, the pads of his thumb and fingers resting on your kneecap. Your legs remain crossed, just as his hand remains on your knee. The stretch of road you're on is straight, requiring no gear change for a little while. He can play this game, if you really want him to.

"No," he says. There's pressure beneath his fingertips now. "Be a waste of time, wouldn't it? Everyone's different. If I wanna get better at fucking you, specifically, then I gotta keep fucking you."

He's not wrong. You can't fault his logic, and in all honesty, the way he's talking is so abrasive, so raw, that it's got you feeling all hot and bothered again. He may as well be stroking your pussy, not your knee, with the impact he's having on you.

His grip tightens, then pulls your knee back over. Commanding, not requesting. Your legs part for him, because of course they do. There's something about knowing he has options, knowing that he could be with someone else, but is choosing to be with you that gives you a little ego boost.

"Maybe I've changed my mind," you feign indifference, but Jungkook knows there's a handful of feelings beneath your words. "Maybe I don't wanna fuck you anymore."

He strokes his broad palm along the inside of your thigh. It's warm, wrapped in the sheer nylon cover of tights, and he'd obsessed with the way they feel. So smooth, so soft, so perfectly pristine. He wonders if you're making a mess of them. Hopes you are.

"I don't like maybes," he says. "Either you wanna fuck me or you don't."

"I don't like fucking boys who fuck other girls."

"Who said I was fucking other girls?" he smirks, and lets his hand trail a little further up. He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, getting a feel for you.

"You did."

"No," he corrects. "I said I've fucked other girls. Past tense. Never said I'm currently fucking other girls. You really gotta stop making assumptions, little Miss Clutch Control."

"I hate you," you say with a smile, and you really do mean it.

"I like girls who hate me. Makes the sex so much hotter."

"Despise you."

"Ugh," he grins, as he lets his hand reach the top of your thigh. He squeezes again, and you hum a little moan for him. "Doesn't sound like you hate me."

You giggle, soft and serene in the safety of his car. Reaching a junction, he pulls his hand back to change gear. You're at a four-way intersection, the light only just hitting amber, so he reckons he has a least a couple of minutes to toy with you.

When his hand returns to your thigh, just like you hoped it would, it's beneath your skirt. Right at the top. Right where it belongs. The pressure beneath his palm is firm, fingers sinking into the softness of your leg.

"But I do," you say, voice quiet, anticipation lacing your breath.

His pinky finger stretches out a little, just to stoke over the mound that rests between your legs. He can already feel the heat, but what surprises him - and excites him - is the slick that's seeped through your panties and onto the outer side of your tights.

"Doesn't feel like you hate me, either."

"No?" You toy. "Feel again."

And so he does. He points his index and middle finger, and holds them flat against you. They're instantly met with a slippery mess. He slides them up and down, once, twice, three times, and then cups your pussy with his palm. You're fucking pulsing in his touch.

"See?" You speak as if you don't wanna whine his name. "Loathe you."

"So you do," he mumbles as he presses his palm tight against you, inhaling sharply as he does so. One glance at his lap and you can tell he's just as turned on as you are. His cock is solid beneath his trousers, jeans tight, keeping him concealed. Part of you feels a little bad. Looks painful. He's too big to be confined by such unforgiving material.

"Still wanna skip the sex?"

Jungkook presses in index finger against where he can feel your entrance is. You're so wet that his fingers are already coated in everything that you are. He wants more. Wants your tights gone. Wants his fingers inside you.

But he's a stubborn asshole, and hates being proven wrong.

"Sex?" he pulls his fingers back, and rests the heel of his palm on the top of his steering wheel. They're covered in your juices. He considers licking them clean, but figures that might be a bit too brash - and then thinks fuck it, and does it anyway. There's a sweetness to your taste, one that has him holding back a moan. Absolutely fucking divine. You don't even realise that you're staring at his hands - the way they sink into his mouth - until he pulls them back out. He looks at you. Shrugs. "Yeah. Not really in the mood."

"Thank god," you say, not skipping a beat. Even when your need to fuck him is so intense that it manifests into a physical form and leaks onto his passenger seat, you're still able to bicker with him. It satisfies him like nothing else. Makes his cock so hard. "Me either."

The light turns to green, his hand is back on his gear stick. You stick to looking out the window, not favouring looking at him. The temptation to palm his crotch is overwhelming, but you're just as stubborn as he is. If you've said you don't wanna fuck, then you're damn well gonna act like you don't wanna fuck, until you simply can't take it anymore.

"Glad we agree," he says. "So let's talk."

You half wonder if this was his plan all along. You actually do think you hate him - but only cause he makes you feel weak. You don't enjoy that feeling, but you enjoy him.

"I'm an open book," you lie.

He flicks his eyes to the rearview and mutters under his breath, "shit."

"What is it?" you glance over your shoulder, noticing a pair of headlights flashing Jungkook. You can't make the car out. Its lamps are on full-beam. Blinding.

Jungkook leans over, the fingers that had been stroking against your pussy now pressing down into your buckle. There's a click as it releases, before he moves down and pulls up on the lever by the front of your seat, dragging you forward.

"Get in the back," he says, as if he isn't still driving. You go to question him, but he cuts you off. "In the back. Now. Middle seat."

You stare for a second, until he glances over to you, jaw tense, with no hint of a smile. "Don't argue with me, now. Middle seat. C'mon."

"Kook-"

"Now."

And as unsafe as it feels, you find yourself twisting, hands gripping onto the back of the passenger seat as you bring your legs up to crouch.

"Quickly, babe," he says, his hand reaching over to tap your ass gently. Your back is to the windshield, and Jungkook's terrified that the fucker behind him isn't gonna wait for a respectable start - but he's also anxiously aware of the fact he isn't explaining himself to you, and that it's gonna make you hesitant. "Please. Trust me."

And so you do. You wobble a little as your leg dips over the centre console, his hand still on your ass to keep you stable.

"That's it," he encourages. You make your way into the back, a little squeal as you leap soundtracking the move. "Seat belt. Now."

The leather of the backseat is cold against your tight-covered thighs, legs pressed together, feet firmly on the raised centre of the footwell. You do as you're told, all rather quickly.

"Hands on the seats," he tells you again, and you don't question it, even though it's all that you want to do. There's a time and a place for bickering with him, and while it's the perfect place, the urgency of his commands suggest that now isn't the right time. You grip onto the seats in front of you, and Jungkook reaches up to feel your hand, just to make sure it's where he wants it. His hand is clammy and warm, safe against yours. He lingers for a second, not wanting to lose the way your feel against his skin. "Hold tight."

He slows to a near stop, and you almost laugh when you realise where you are. That fucking bridge, again. The car behind you pulls up beside him, but it's hard to make it out through his back windows. They're so intensely tinted that all you can figure out is the rough shape. "Is that-"

"Yep," he cuts you off, knowing what you'll ask. "Car from the last time. It's cool. I got this. I will warn you, though, he's a little pissed with me at the moment."

"A little?"

You can hear the engine revving. Sounds more than just a little pissed.

"We're friends. It's okay."

Friends is a loose description. It would have been the right term, once. Jungkook thinks of him more as a colleague these days. A pain in his ass.

"Doesn't sound very friendly."

"I'ma need you to be quiet, babe," he says, voice soft. He isn't trying to be rude, he just needs to concentrate. Needs to win this. Needs to get Namjoon off his back. Needs to get you away from, well, here.

"Noted."

Jungkook watches the lights. It's how races like these work; the impromptu kind that first got him acquainted with Namjoon. They wait for the lights to shift, throttle teasing on amber, rubber-burning on green.

His gaze is on the lights and the lights only. The leather binding of his wheel almost squeaks as he grips against it, shoulders rolling back ever so slightly. Glancing over to the black SsangYong, he nods, and then his eyes are back on the lights. The lack of a flagger has never bothered them. In fact, Jungkook prefers racing without one. Fewer variables. Less chance of things going wrong. He knows the time of the lights. Trusts them. Trusts his muscle memory to do the hard work for him.

You can feel that chime in your stomach again - but it's different this time. It's a warning bell. The kind that tells you to get out of the situation you're in. Fat fucking chance.

There's a purr as the lights flicker into amber, Jungkook's rev count building. The sound of the SsangYong rips through the windows, letting you know just how powerful it is. Ain't no way Jungkook's fucking Pony is beating it. His grip adjusts, foot sinking further down onto his throttle. He builds it, 2, 3, 4 - and then the light is green.

The way Jungkook moves is as if he's at one with his car.

His movements are slick, well-oiled.

There's no hesitation, just an innate understanding of what needs to be done. His car tears from the starting line, and you forget all about the SsangYong he's racing.

It's hard to think about anything at all, in all honesty. Hard to comprehend the speed he's built so quickly; the control he has. There's a rush pulsing through you that you haven't felt since, well, ever. You don't enjoy racing, not really. You hate it whenever Yoongi rags his car about, but you trust him.

And you find yourself trusting Jungkook, too.

Maybe it's because you've already seen him tame his car when it's been out of control, or maybe it's because you've already trusted him with your body, so what difference does your life make?

His tyres are almost silent, moving at such a pace that there's no chance for anything to reverb. He grunts a little, pushing the car up to fifth, building, building and then -

"Corner," he braces you.

You're pretty certain you're going to throw up.

It's a route that Jungkook knows well, just a short circuit, over the bridge, sharp left out along the riverside road until they reach Kang's. Same every time. Hasn't yet thought about what he's gonna do when he gets there. Just knows he has to get there first to buy himself a little time.

He knocks the car into neutral, clutch down, brakes too, and then he's turning the wheel just a little. Not too sharp. Doesn't wanna oversteer. He coasts it round the bend, knowing better than to be in neutral, but he isn't thinking about that right now. He's thinking about the fact that Namjoon's car is fucking faster, and he needs every gain he can get.

Your hands grip into the padding of his seats, desperately trying to stop yourself from toppling over. Elbows locked, it's hard to determine the sheer amount of force you're putting behind your bones.

There's a screech as the tyres burn against the road, no doubt leaving thick black streaks on the tarmac. You're so used to seeing them on your way to work that you never really consider how they get there. Now you know.

He pummels the car forward, knocking it back into third, and then up into fourth. It's a miscalculation. Should have jumped right up into fifth - but he can lament that later.

He corrects his mistake. Strikes it into fifth. Namjoon is trailing. Jungkook has got this.

Eyes hard against the horizon line, Jungkook has no time to think. He flicks his eyes up to the rearview, catching sight of the SsangYong's bonnet. He's miles ahead.

Well, no. Not even a metre - but it may as well be miles. He just needs to keep up this pace.

Foot to the floor, he's tanking it. The shops you dart past become a blur of neon lights, nothing for your eyes to absorb other than the chaos of light beneath a dark sky. In the distance, you see Kang's.

"Shit," he hisses as the light at the intersection ahead begins to flash amber.

"Hold on," he says, as if you've even thought about letting go. Hands clammy from nerves, you adjust your grip. Tighter. So tight, your nails will leave prints in his leather.

He pushes further, further, further, but the lights are flashing quicker, quicker, quicker. "C'mon, beauty. C'mon."

He hits the junction line.

The lights are still amber.

And then he switches from gas to clutch. Easy does it.

Jungkook pulls the handbrake up. Clicks it into place. Pulls the car round with a single hand on his steering wheel.

He has full control over the vehicle as it roars into position right in the middle of the cross-section.

There's a blaring horn sounding behind you - but it's not directed at the Pony.

It's directed at the SsangYong, which has screeched to a halt. The oncoming traffic has been set free, lights fully changed. Jungkook made it just in time.

"He's stuck," you tell Jungkook, head over your shoulder, making sure that the SsangYong hasn't moved. "Can't get past the traffic. You're good."

You expect Jungkook to ease off the throttle, but he doesn't. He takes a sharp right instead, and begins to tunnel down back allies. Right, then left. Then left again, and another right. Takes so many rogue turns that you don't even know which direction you're facing in by the time he comes to a stop. It's been nearly five minutes since you lost the SsangYong - and yet he just won't ease off the gas. Not until he's certain Namjoon isn't lurking in the shadows of his exhaust fumes.

By the time he does eventually stop, his chest is heaving. Breathless.

You're down a back alley, across the other side of town. You don't recognise it.

Pressing down into the buckle, you undo your belt and clamber forward into the passenger seat again, feet up, body facing towards him.

He doesn't look at you for a while. Just stares ahead. Inhale, exhale. You can see his jugular vein beating.

"Hey," you reach out to his wrist, and stroke on his arm gently. He doesn't respond instantly. Just lets his eyes close. It's nice, the way you're so gentle with him, he thinks. So nice. So soothing.

And then his body acts before his mind does. He pulls on your wrist, grip firm, as his other hand pushes down the lever by the front of his seat. Weight on his feet, he pushes himself back, making space for you in his lap.

The way you clamber over the centre console is less than elegant, but he doesn't care. Just needs you on his thighs. Needs to suffocate in the scent of your gasoline tainted hair, and taste the sweetness of your tongue in his mouth. Needs to remember everything that you are, so he can forget who he is.

His hungry lips find yours, a hand in your hair, the other on your cheek.

There's really not enough room, your legs straddled over his, trapped by the door on one side, the gear stick on the other. It's tight and claustrophobic, but he likes it. Likes how ensnared he is by you. Wants to be even more trapped.

He licks against your lips and begs for permission to enter - as if you'd ever refuse. His tongue strokes against yours, the studs you'd (somehow) forgotten about making you whimper. He's rough and aggressive with his kisses, the adrenaline manifesting itself in the form of intimacy.

"I lied," he says breathlessly. "About the sex. I want it. Let me fuck you."

He wants to lose himself in you. Needs to.

"Backseat?" you moan into his lips as he begins to encourage the movement of your hips against his painfully hard crotch.

"Backseat."

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #boxer!jungkook #mafia!jungkook #throttle #byholly #jungkook fluff #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n

[jeon-s-sins]

Fighter - Three

Synopsis: YN, a young student in her final year of a master’s degree in international business, is forced to move. She is in a “bad” part of Seoul, without much income. Prostitution, drugs, and violence are commonplace, and the police think twice before setting foot in the area. Jungkook, a young student living alone in this cruel world, is forced to fight underground to earn money to pay for his rent and expensive studies. Unfortunately, the two young people meet in a very inconvenient situation and will see their lives change overnight.

Warning: Mention of alcohol, violence (fight), bad words, flirting that will make you sleep upright; the rest you will discover as you read, no spoilers. 😉

Word count: 12.8k

Chapter song: Unstoppable - NEFFEX

n/a: English is not my first language, so I may have missed some mistakes while proofreading. Happy New Year to all! May this year be full of joy and success. It took a long time, but it's finally here! I had a lot of fun writing this part, and I hope you enjoy it. Enjoy reading, and please don’t forget to vote, comment, and ask questions if there are any. 😁.

Translations, republications, and rewritings of my stories are not allowed. Failure to comply with this request will result in legal action.

©Jeon_s_Sins

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Hearing the garbage truck outside because of the windows' poor insulation, you estimated it was early morning, around 6:30. It's often around this time that they pass through your neighborhood.

Changing position in your bed, you toss and turn, trying to find a more comfortable position to immerse yourself in the world of dreams a little longer.

Since you hadn't found an internship, there was no point in getting up early. The deadline for finding and applying for an internship at your university was yesterday. It was too late to find anything; even the meaningless internships wouldn't serve.

Fortunately, you had the chance to try your luck the following school year. But this was your one and only chance. If you hadn't found anything by the start of the new school year, you'd be off to do it again. Since you'd passed your previous semester, you didn't have to attend classes; you only completed your six-month internship before writing and defending a thesis before finally graduating and bidding farewell to student life.

In the meantime, you had plenty of time to find something to do, so you wouldn't rush things and enjoy a little more time to make up for missed sleep.

Besides, you couldn't even remember how you got home. Still with your eyes closed, yet wide awake, your brain hadn't allowed you to sleep peacefully, projecting a few vague, disordered images.

You only knew that Jungkook had told Minjun he was taking you home... Jungkook...

You jumped up, sitting on the bed, finally awake and disoriented. Once you knew where you were, you concluded you weren't home.

You turned on the bedside lamp and noticed the room was tiny and dilapidated. The curtains blocked out the sun's rays, but given the time the alarm clock indicated, the sun hadn't risen yet, at least not entirely.

The walls were in a deplorable state. There were holes here and there, probably from bullet holes. Some of them had been shabbily plugged with plaster, but nobody had bothered to repaint over them, leaving big white marks on a disgusting salmon-orange wall.

An old wooden cross stood just above your head, and the bed's headboard was made of old bars.

There were two single beds in the room. Your bed was the one against the wall, just below the window, while barely a meter away from you was another identical bed, with only a pitiful little bedside table separating them.

The state of the other bed indicated that you hadn't spent the night alone. Jungkook had been keeping you company. But you didn't know that the poor man hadn't slept a wink all night and watched over you with his eyes glued to the bedroom door.

He knew what went on inside the walls of such buildings. Prostitution, kidnapping, and worse. But there was no way he would let a stranger into his home. Sure, he'd saved you on your first night in the neighborhood and offered to keep an eye on you for tonight, but deep down, he didn't know you.

He didn't doubt your innocence, but you never know. That's why he preferred to bring you to this hotel so that you couldn't say where he lived in case you got into trouble and were asked where he lived.

Jungkook was no fool. If you lived a life like he did, fighting underground for a few years, you'd have accumulated countless enemies, and almost certainly, unfortunately for you, some of them must have interacted with you.

Living in the neighborhood and frequenting the Den, you'll quickly learn that rumors travel faster than the blink of an eye. So it's for your own good to avoid each other.

Although you were not close, and Jungkook had no intention of becoming so, it was best to maintain a distance between you both. This protects you from further harm and ensures that he does not waste his time unnecessarily saving a stranger. He has more important matters to attend to than playing the hero.

Before ending whatever you guys had, he left the room quickly to buy you hangover medicine and haejangguk, a soup known for its effectiveness against hangovers. Haejangguk is a soup with Chinese cabbage, vegetables, and meat cooked in beef broth.

Having no table, he had left them on the bed he had occupied at night. As you approach the latter to take the contents left by Jungkook, you notice that he has left a note.

"Eat quickly. Come to your senses and get the hell out of here. Your car is parked in front of the entrance on your left. Stay out of trouble, princess. - JK. "

"Tsk." A simple good morning sufficed.

Barely awake, and you were already in a bad mood. Even when Jungkook wasn't around, he still managed to annoy you. On the other hand, you had to admit, it was nice of him to think of your hangover. He didn't have to.

Although you like to contradict and annoy him, you followed his instructions today. You do not even eat the haejangguk; instead, you take the hangover medicine, pack your things, and leave the hellish place. Opening the bedroom door, you stumble into a sinister, dark corridor.

"And they dare to call it a hotel. This is more like a place straight out of hell."

A few holes in the wall allowed the first thin rays of sunlight to enter. As you turn at the end of the corridor, you encounter a man lying on the floor, who appears to be heavily intoxicated. It is unclear whether he is breathing, and you wouldn't approach him to find out.

You quickly exited this gloomy place, taking the stairs despite the strong smell of urine and vomit. You passed through an empty reception area before leaving the key on the counter and skipping out.

As indicated in Jungkook's note, your car was parked near the entrance to this so-called hotel. Thank goodness you found it in one piece and in its original condition.

It was time to go home, shower, and enjoy the haejangguk.

The rest of the day had been dull. You tried your best to find something to do but soon ran out of options. It had been a few weeks since you'd watched the last game of AOT (Attack on Titans), and you'd finished it for good. It was the same for Naruto and Naruto Shippuden. You'd started Boruto but weren't too hooked after watching a few episodes. Maybe it was because you'd watched both Naruto series in succession. So you will let some time go by before picking it up again.

So, that afternoon, you opted for something different. You've been watching a Thai BL series. You even came to envy the characters. Sure, their stories had plenty of drama, but at least they weren't alone and had someone who shared their feelings.

In these moments, you realized just how alone you were in this world. No parents, no family, no friends, let alone a boyfriend. You even acknowledged that no one would notice if anything ever happened to you.

If at least you had a job or were still going to class, your absence would be noted, but you had neither. In your current situation, the only way your disappearance will be noted is by your landlord when you stop paying the rent, which would be too late.

"You lead a sorrowful life, my poor girl." Sighing, you look towards the wall clock and notice that the day is drawing to a close and sunset is just around the corner.

Grabbing your plaid, journal, phone, AirPods, and small portable photo printer, you headed for your fridge, grabbed a couple of cans of beer, and headed up to the rooftop to which only you had access.

With all the events that had taken place in your life over the last few days, you'd still found time to do up the roof, which from now on would be your safe place in this corrupt and hellish world.

You had bought artificial turf to cover the rough concrete floor. On the left-hand side, you had placed a small round garden table in case you wanted to eat quietly one day while admiring the view and take advantage of the sunny days to sunbathe a little. Moreover, the timing was perfect, as you had no neighbors. No one would notice if you felt like sunbathing in the nude, which was an idea to keep in your mind.

Continuing your property tour, you added plant pots and flowerpots here and there. Garden gnomes would keep you company on days like today when you came alone, which would be very often until proven otherwise.

There were a few comfortable bean bags where you could take delicious naps. You'd hung a few rows of garlands that could be recharged using solar panels. You'd hung a few more on the concrete railing.

You still had some things to buy, but for the moment, it was already better and more comfortable than before.

Although you'd invested in a table and some footstools, you decided to stand on the concrete balcony railing for now. You use a small bench already there the day you moved in to do this. You climb on it before finding yourself with both feet dangling in the air and looking off into the distance.

You had an incredible view. The sky was painted in a multitude of colors. Even though the sky was still blue when you looked overhead, the blue faded to violet in the distance, then pink, red, and finally orange. This orange color revived to become brighter, even golden, as the sun was setting. The clouds, too, took on a completely different color, blending in with those of the sky.

From where you stood, you had a view of the Namsan Tower. But unlike its usual size, it looked tiny to you.

At this very moment, to put you in an even more relaxed mood, you put on your Airpods and switch on your chillax playlist on Spotify before pulling out your phone and taking many photos.

Still enjoying the presence of the sun and its last majestic moments, you open your first can of beer and take a sip.

You take a deep breath before releasing it all.

"Now that's what I call living." You didn't understand how quiet moments like that scare some people.

Not that you judged them, because you're no one to judge others. But you didn't understand how people can't stand to be alone and have quiet moments. You didn't understand how people lived constantly surrounded by many people. A loner as you are, the little time you get to hang out with your classmates, your social battery runs out in a snap. Living like this, going out and partying every day, you'd end up losing your mind or shooting yourself between the eyes. But that was just your personal opinion. Everyone was free to live as they wished.

The music playing in your ears, matching the comfortable atmosphere, was interrupted by Siri's robotic voice.

"You have an incoming call from 'My Hero.' Would you like to take the call?" Who the hell is my hero? You had no idea you'd registered a contact under that name. Especially as you didn't have any friends, you got on well with only a few classmates, but not enough to call them that.

Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to take the call anyway.

"Hello?" Your voice sounded uncertain.

"Isn't it very cordial to take pictures of your neighbors without their knowledge?" An unfamiliar male voice sounded from the other end of the line. "What about other people's image rights and privacy rights?"

You were confused. What was your neighbor talking about?

"Excuse me, but I think you've got the wrong person." You were about to hang up when his voice rang out again.

"Ouch. You offend me, YN." The sound of your first name calls out to you. "It pains me to see you not recognize your savior's voice." There was sarcasm in his voice, a far cry from the sorrow he claimed to feel.

"My savior?" You twisted your brain in all directions but didn't recognize the person. The only person who could have that title was-

"Jung... Jungkook?"

"Bingo. Princess." The more he spoke, the more his voice sounded like Jungkook's. How did this moron get your number?

"How?"

"Face ID is great these days. You should be more careful when you sleep in the company of strangers."

"Don't worry, after that one, I learned my lesson. The question is, why?" This question had been burning your lips since you learned of his identity.

"As much as I don't want to, we'll see a lot of each other. So I thought, 'Why not?' "

"Bold of you to think I'd want to see you."

"Stop giving yourself such big shoes to fill, princess. We both know you're dying to see me again. In fact, to make it easier for you, I will give you a little present." You could tell from his voice that he was smirking.

"Oh, yeah? What?" You expected anything but what he was about to tell you.

"Look ahead." By pure automatism, you look in the direction of the ground, which makes Jungkook laugh.

"I said before you, not toward the ground, dummy." You're about to throw a good one in his face when your gaze fixes on a point across the street.

In the house opposite yours was a shirtless Jungkook perched at his window.

You'd already seen him shirtless on your first visit to the Den when he was fighting Bazooka. But his constant movements had made it hard for you to get a good look at him. But now that he was standing in front of you, motionless, you had all the time in the world to look at him and analyze him in depth.

He looked like he'd just stepped out of the shower. He had a small white towel around his neck, which he'd probably used to dry his hair. His pecs were well-rounded and prominent. Since his forearms were resting on the window railing, you couldn't see his abs very well, but you could see two small valleys announcing their start.

"Take a picture, it'll stay longer."

Out of your contemplation, your defensive mode is directly activated.

"Like I'd want to waste space on my phone's storage with a picture of you. Although, I could use it to scare the monsters out from under my bed."

"That's perfect, princess. That way, I'll be your hero once again."

You pretend to find his words hilarious. "In your dreams, Quasimodo."

"Are you aware that in the end, Quasimodo is considered a hero? So that little nickname coming from you sounds like a compliment." From your perch, you see Jungkook bring a hand to his heart as if your words had gone straight to it.

"It wasn't a compliment, you fool. You're insufferable." This makes him laugh and brings a smile to your face.

Although you pretended you couldn't stand him, you couldn't hide that he wasn't unpleasant to look at and that his company wasn't unpleasant either. Moreover, he seemed alright from the few times you'd been around him. He was a bit like you, a good person in a world of bullies, trying to survive as best as possible.

Besides, it reminds you that you hadn't had a chance to thank him for caring for you and saving you from a massive headache again.

"By the way, thanks for last night and this morning."

"Stop it, princess, you'll make me shed a tear." He teases you again.

Rolling your eyes, you reply. "No, forget what I said. I'll take it back. That'll teach me to be polite to a guy with an ego as big as his head."

His laugh was soft, childlike, though infectious, provoking yours in return. "But seriously." He says once he regains his seriousness. "Watch out. I won't be around all the time. Remember, some weirdos are lurking around."

"I told you yesterday, and I'm telling you again, I don't need to be taken care of. So you don't have to worry, Mr. Vigilante."

"Ha. Right," Jungkook figured you were too naive for this world. He didn't know your situation or even if you had a family, but he said you seemed to have been raised in the world of Care Bears. The few times he'd seen you, you'd been wrapped up in a mess, or almost certainly would have been if he hadn't intervened yesterday.

But he didn't know anything about you or your story. He didn't know that you were an orphan and that, for a time, you'd been living on the streets. Fighting tooth and nail for an expired milk carton before entering the orphanage. He also didn't know how many times you'd moved from family to family before finding the right one, only to have it savagely ripped away from you overnight.

But that was too topical for him to know. You doubted he'd ever find out.

"Anyway, thanks again." He doesn't respond verbally; you just see him nod. "Hey? You going to the Den tonight?"

Jungkook didn't understand the reason for your question but answered you anyway. "No. I only go there when I have fights."

If you only knew how much Jungkook hated this place and its atmosphere. He only goes there because the pay is attractive, which allows him to pay his rent and schooling, as well as what will enable him to make ends meet.

"Why do you ask?" You couldn't see, but Jungkook raises an eyebrow skeptically.

"No reason. Pure curiosity, that's all."

"YN, curiosity killed the cat. And a little friendly advice: you shouldn't go back there."

"Tsk, I didn't know we'd become friends." You retort.

"Us, friends? Ha. No, baby, you're the bane of my existence, a far cry from what I call being friends. It's just that I don't want to have to step in again to save your pretty little ass from the brink again. I've already had my fill."

"Don't worry, dear, you're the last person I'd ask for help in a jam." You could hardly believe it yourself, so Jungkook's following reaction was well and truly understandable.

"We'll see about that."

"Your lack of faith in me is hurtful." You tell him falsely offended.

"And justified. Remind me how we met?" Silence on your part had answered him. "That's what I say."

"Shut up, Quasimodo." For all answers, Jungkook sends you a floating kiss, which you pretend to dodge, almost falling backward.

Regaining your balance, you send an embarrassed smile toward your hero slash neighbor. In worry, Jungkook straightens; if looks could kill, you'd already be six feet under.

"YN, I swear you'll be the death of me."

To kill your discomfort, you retort, "Like that will keep me up at night. Sounds like a you problem, buddy."

For all answers, Jungkook shakes his head.

"That's not all, but I've got to go, princess. I remind you, I have a life."

You give him the thumbs-up and thank him again, but Jungkook says one last thing before you hang up. "Good night, neighbor. And try not to kill yourself coming down from your perch."

"I might come and haunt you." You hear him laugh. "Good night, Quasimodo." Then you hang up.

You watch as your new neighbor closes his windows and sinks into his home. On the other hand, you decide to stay outside a little longer, admiring the starry sky, while the music picks up where it left off.

It's crazy to say that some stars you're looking at now no longer exist. The sky is something that will always fascinate you. The days go by, and not for a single day will the sky resemble that of the day before or two or even three centuries ago. The same goes for the stars.

Many of today's stars are already dead. Some are so far away that their light takes billions of years to reach us. In the meantime, something may have happened to them, causing them to disappear from the universe.

That's why we say looking at the sky is like looking into the past.

It's also why you didn't understand people who bought stars. Sure, it may be romantic and incredible, but in the end, they're probably buying something that no longer exists.

But then again, you're not judging anyone or anything. Once again, you're just stating your opinion. Still, if someone were to tell you and prove that they'd bought you a star, you'd be touched by the gesture because, in the end, it's the gesture and the intention that counts.

Opening your second can of beer, you take a few sips before turning your attention to your phone and the little photo printer, long abandoned on the low wall beside you.

Like all other youngsters and children from your orphanage, you participated in a therapy session. And during one of them, the psychologist suggested that you take some time to write down everything that was going on in your head in a journal. This would allow you to clear your mind of all the toxins, doubts, and questions that poisoned your spirit to make way for serenity.

So, for years, you'd been playing the game. At first, you were a little lost, not knowing what to write down. Then, as time passed, you gave your imagination desires and needs free rein. You wrote about your experiences during the day. But also your doubts, your sorrows, the words of a song running through your head. Inspiring phrases that matched your life and state of mind at the time.

Tonight, you decided to put up the photo you'd taken of the sunset and, with it, your thoughts of the moment.

You thanked the heavens for having put Jungkook in your path, which at the moment was proving to be a beautiful encounter. Just like the magnificent sunset, he had brought a little color into your dull life, dulled by time and the deeds and accomplishments of recent times. And even if Jungkook's presence in your life is as fleeting as the time of a sunset, you'll always be grateful to him.

As night falls, you return to the shelter of your home. Leaning back on your bed, you gaze up at the ceiling of your room, asking yourself: "And now, what?"

You'll be out of school for a year with no source of income. If you wanted to continue living under this roof, you'd have to work your ass off to find something to pay the rent and make ends meet. You had no choice but to work and no longer rely on the government aid given to young students in times of hardship.

From now on, you have to rely on your own resources and manage to bring home the money and the food, like the big girl you are.

You spend about two hours looking for ads for odd jobs here and there on the Internet, but nothing comes up. At least, nothing exciting or close to home. Most ads come from the center of Seoul, only a few kilometers from where you live. Doing a thankless job, finishing very late at night, and having to take public transport for forty-five or even an hour's journey is demotivating.

But just as you were giving up hope of finding anything tonight, a flash from the night before comes back to mind.

Before you were entirely out of your mind, you remembered that Minjun had put up an ad saying they were looking for a bartender.

Admittedly, there were better kinds of jobs than this - you were bound to come across some insufferable drunkards and guys who would be quick to want to have you in their bed. Not to mention the harmful, violent, and damaging atmosphere for your little person, but on the other hand was that it wasn't really far from home, and you already knew Minjun.

You've got nothing to lose by trying. You can always break the contract if it becomes too much of a burden.

You didn't have Minjun's number and couldn't find the bar's contact details online. You had no choice but to go there and talk to him face-to-face.

It was still early, so the place was closed to the public. You hoped, by some miracle, that Minjun would already be there and that they'd agree to let you talk to him.

The two substantial black doors were closed, so you knocked forcefully on the door without wasting any more time and praying to heaven that you'd be heard. The place was vast, and you had to go down some stairs before you could access the main space, so you wouldn't typically make yourself heard by knocking.

A few moments later, having achieved nothing, you try again. You were about to knock a third time, but the door opened, almost hitting you in the face.

A man, no... a gorilla opens the door. He was most certainly two meters by two meters. You could even bet he was wider than your fridge. Dressed in black from head to toe, while he had an earpiece in his ear.

"Drop by later, we're closed." The man grunts and shuts the door in your face without even giving you time to express yourself. Except that, before he's had a chance to close it completely, you block it with your foot, just like you've seen people do in the movies. Except in the film, they don't show how much this shit hurts.

Swallowing a complaint, you try to negotiate with a gorilla. "I know, but please, I need to talk to Minjun. It's about the barmaid position." Scrutinizing you up and down, the man opens the door a little more, barely enough to let you in.

"Thank you."

He lets you pass him before locking the large doors and asking you to follow him. After descending the few steps separating you from the main area, you notice that everything has stayed the same as the previous day. The only difference was that all the lights were on, and you had a better view of the space.

"Minjun, there's someone here for you. It's about the bartender position." Announces the gorilla, immediately stepping aside to resume his activities, leaving you alone facing an empty bar. Empty until you hear the clink of glass bottles before a brunette head appears in your field of vision.

"Good evening-" Rising to his feet and looking in your direction, Minjun seemed surprised to see you standing before him.

"So, just like that, little one wants to play in the big leagues." He teases.

"Yeah, well, I'm not necessarily thrilled with the idea, but I'm really in need."

"Do you have any experience in the field?" Minjun rests his forearms on the counter, putting down what he is doing to give you his full attention.

"If you consider drinking everything you can get your hands on when you find out your ex is cheating on you, then yes."

"Tsk." He shakes his head, escaping a small laugh. "That's not exactly reassuring, little one. But you're lucky we're actually in need." This isn't very advantageous for him because whoever says no experience says training and lack of time to train you. But on the plus side, you're already there, and there are still three hours to go before the first customers show up. So he had some time to show you the basics, and he'd show you the rest as time went on and as you needed it.

"Join me behind the counter. I'll show you where things are and the most basic and common recipes. But before that, I'll show you the staff changing rooms where you can get rid of your stuff." He said once you'd joined him behind the bar counter.

You passed through a door linking the bar directly to the storeroom, which gave direct access to a corridor that only staff could use, leading to a checkroom and toilets. There was also another door on the left, providing access to the outside. "You can go through there when you start your shifts instead of through the front door, but also to smoke during your breaks or just to get some fresh air."

Having cleared away your belongings and returned to the bar, you give Minjun a hand. You restocked the drinks and other things you would need during the evening. You were also allowed to familiarize yourself more with where everything was placed.

Minjun also took the opportunity to explain a few recipes to you. "Don't worry if you can't remember them; just have some cheat sheet on the worktop." Indeed, some small laminated sheets were stuck on the worktop and on the counter's inner barrier, sheltered from the customers' view. "Cheater."

"What? Sometimes even the best have memory lapses." He pats you on the shoulder teasingly.

"Anyway, the most important thing is not to panic at the sight of the crowd. Do the orders one by one to avoid getting lost, and if you have any doubts, don't hesitate to come and ask me or Sohan, the other barman."

You nod and continue to prepare the drinks he asks you to practice. It wasn't all plain sailing. Tonight, you had to prove to him and the others that you were trustworthy and that you did indeed belong here. Besides, it was one less thing to worry about.

"When do I start?" You ask.

"Are you free tonight?" You nod, "Then tonight will be."

Oh. That fast? At least you won't have to wait long to have an answer. Mentally unprepared, you start to feel your hands becoming sweating.

"Be thankful tonight's fight was between amateurs and not Bullet Fists. Otherwise, it would have been hell for you."

Bullet Fists. Jungkook. Quasimodo.

You hadn't thought much about it, but working at the Den - if it became official in the days - meant you might see your beautiful neighbor more often than you'd imagined, which, in all honesty, wasn't unpleasant.

"Good." He says, clapping his hands and pulling you out of your thoughts. "Let's talk about the payment." Now you were starting to speak the same language.

"For tonight, if you can make it to the end and manage properly, you'll be paid 1 .291 .689₩" (€900 │ $991.30 │ £780.41).

"That much?" Shocked to earn so much for a few hours of work.

"Yeah, not counting tips from customers. And if you ever come to do business with us, you'll earn double. Don't forget, darling, that you're working in a place that's underground and where money flows freely."

No wonder, even in places like this, some people like you accept work without worrying about the risks.

"We've got half an hour before we open. Do you think that's enough time to get dolled up? I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for in the lost and found." He points to you.

"Did you guys find make-up?"

"You'll be shocked at how much we find once the customers leave."

Wasting no more time, you head off to the changing rooms and rummage through the lost and found. Everything: lipsticks, pencils, liner, mascara, perfume, clothes, and even shoes and telephones. It's in circumstances like this that you realize how absent-minded people can be when they're drunk. Worst of all, no one seems to have come to claim them.

It was barely ten o'clock on a Saturday morning when Jungkook's phone rang while he slept peacefully. The only sound in his house was his snoring, which clattered against his bedroom walls.

At first, Jungkook thought the unbearable noise from his phone was a dream, but when his subconscious awakened, trapping Jungkook in between the real world and the dream world, he realized it was his phone ringing.

He groped his mattress for his phone without even opening his eyes.

"What?" His morning voice was hoarse, low, and raspy. He knew very well who was on the line. That dog-bark ringing was registered to his "trainer," or the man who only called him when he had to fight for large sums of money.

"A little respect for your elders, you moron." Jungkook didn't care; he only wanted to go back to sleep. The night before, Jungkook stayed up until four to finish a job due first thing Monday.

This assignment was a group project, but Jungkook did it alone as usual, refusing to waste time socializing with his classmates.

"Get on with it." he barks again, becoming increasingly grumpy.

"All right, then. Tonight. The Den. Fight against Bazooka. See you at midnight. Is that short enough for Sleeping Beauty?" His trainer teased, knowing full well that this was playing on the younger man's nerves.

"Hmm." Jungkook grunts, rubbing his face against the mattress for lack of a pillow. "I've told you before that for this sort of thing, you can leave a message just fine."

"Yeah, and run the risk of you not reading it."

"Tsk. As if I'm going to miss an opportunity to kick this bastard's ass. Besides, it looks like last time's beating wasn't enough for him."

"Apparently not. Jung-Ho's trainer kept bombarding my phone with calls and messages to arrange a meeting between you."

"That guy must really be a masochist." Says Jungkook, referring to his opponent, fully awake now.

"Or maybe he's fallen for your charm." Jungkook rolls his eyes as his trainer laughs at the possible situation.

"It's possible. He's not the first and certainly won't be the last. Everyone falls for Bullet Fists' charm and charisma."

"Okay. That's my cue to cut this call short. You're fully awake, and your oversized ego has resurfaced."

"Oh, come on, coach, fess up. You've fallen for it too."

"Yeah, right. Well, come on, kid. Don't forget, midnight sharp." Then he hangs up.

It had been a week since Jungkook had set foot in the Den, and he wasn't unhappy about it. The farther away he was from this place, the better off he was.

Since the death of his parents a few years ago, when Jungkook was just eighteen, his life has been turned upside down.

This happened during the summer vacations when his parents were away on a romantic evening without Jungkook. On their way home, they were hit by a car belonging to a group of young people returning from a night out.

The news sent Jungkook into a frenzy, and he was only calmed when he made those responsible for his parents' death pay.

Before the death of his parents, Jungkook was what we consider a good boy. Polite, kind, helpful, and very shy. Especially towards girls. Today, Jungkook was a completely different man. Rude to some, no longer shy and charming. He was a massive hit with the ladies.

But deep down, he was still the sweet boy he once was; it's just that after all the shit life had thrown at him in the dark hours of his life, Jungkook found himself trapped in a darkness that refused to leave him.

It was pure chance that one night, he came across a man who later became his coach. It was this man who had introduced him to the life of an underground fighter he led today.

He had no ill intentions towards Jungkook. He wanted to help him, but he didn't have the means to do so, so he did it the only way he knew how. He had seen a glimmer of hope and life in Jungkook that he hadn't believed in for many years.

So the man welcomed him into the cubbyhole that was his apartment and taught him how to fight. Introducing him to street fighting was the only way he could help Jungkook make a decent sum of money fairly quickly.

In return, without realizing it, Jungkook brought a glimmer of life into the man who had taken him in. He let him know what it was like to be a father. For the man, Seokjin, life wasn't all rosy either, and Jungkook had given him a breath of fresh air.

The relationship between Jungkook and Seokjin was not just that of coach and fighter. It was that of a father and son but also of two brothers.

Seokjin sometimes regretted his decision to introduce his dark life to Jungkook. But as he looked back on Jungkook's living conditions when he first met him, he felt the poor boy could have fallen even further.

For the rest of the day, Jungkook prepared for his evening fight. With all the money he'd made from his fights, he'd been able to save up enough to buy some body-building equipment.

But while taking a break after having already trained for an hour and forty-five minutes without respite, he allowed himself a break to drink water and smoke.

Opening his windows, his gaze wandered in the direction of your home. Who would have thought that the distressed young woman he saved one evening would turn his thoughts upside down?

It had been a week since your last interaction, but it was still fresh in his mind.

It may have been wrong and out of place given the circumstances in which your paths crossed, but Jungkook still remembers the shape of your topless, perfect body.

The image of the valley of your breasts, though covered by your bra, haunted his memory. The curves of your body, right where it should be, the warmth of your body caressing his. Your scent still wafting through his car after he dropped you off at home.

Then, that famous night after his fight just a week ago when he'd realized you were his kind of girl. Sweet and naive, but also a strong woman with much fight.

The cat-and-mouse game you two played over the phone was like sweet music in his ears.

That night at the dingy hotel, Jungkook couldn't close his eyes all night, his gaze riveted on your silhouette, which he glimpsed thanks to the moonbeams seeping through the window. And although you found yourself in a nauseating place with a man you didn't really know, you slept so peacefully. As if you trusted him completely.

"Idiot." Yet a gentle, blissful smile that gave him a boyish air had taken possession of his soft lips.

Realizing how silly he looked, Jungkook shook his head to chase away these ideas that would get him nowhere. On the other hand, even though he hadn't heard from you since that famous time, he had noticed that you'd been going out at the same time for the past week and coming home at noon.

And here you are again.

Not that he was worried but curious. What could you be doing alone at such hours when you'd only just moved into a neighborhood like this?

"What are you meddling with, man? What she does or doesn't do is none of your business." And with that reprimand, he closes his windows to get ready.

"Hey, Little one. So, are you ready for the big night?" Minjun and Sohan were already behind the counter, preparing the necessities for tonight.

"What do you mean?" You shook off your belongings as the two men exchanged a look.

"You don't know who's fighting tonight?" You shake your head. "Bullet Fists versus Bazooka. So expect to get ripped off at the controls." Sohan was a tall man with blue hair and black eyes, although he opted for green lenses tonight. He also had muscles, and from what you'd seen during his last fight, Sohan seemed a little less muscular than Jungkook. He wore his hair up and back, which highlighted his face.

Like Minjun and you, he was dressed entirely in black. A slim black shirt with a few buttons undone and jeans pants adorned his legs, while his look was finished off with a pair of combat boots.

Minjun was dressed pretty much the same as Johan, the only difference being that he wore a tight T-shirt, revealing his muscles and pectorals. As for his black hair, it was in its usual form, with its fringe parted in the middle of his forehead. Giving him a bad-boy look.

Without planning it with your two colleagues, you'd opt for an all-black look tonight. Loose hair with a few curls, prominent make-up with smoky eyes, making your gaze bewitching. You wore a tight, sheer lace crop top. Accompanying your femme fatale look, you wore a high-waisted leather skirt with a slit up the right thigh. And while heeled boots would have been perfect, you couldn't forget that you would spend the rest of the evening standing behind the counter, so you left it out, opting for combat boots with clutches, which was very handy for putting your tips in.

"Awesome. I'm going to get my first rush. Not stressful at all." You give them a tense little smile.

"Don't worry." Minjun places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll do as usual. You take orders individually and ask us what you need."

The two men are pretty pleased with your work. They see that you're giving it your all and already have your bearings, although you haven't been here long.

"Don't worry about it. Don't think about it; everything's going to be fine."

"Now go and get ready because the first wave of customers is coming."

It had already been two hours since you'd arrived, and the crowd was still growing, but the good news was that you were keeping up just as well as your two colleagues. 

As you prepared the orders, you couldn't help glancing around the room in search of just one person. You kept wondering if he was already there? Was he too stressed? And would he stop by the bar for a drink before his fight? 

And yet, five fights had already taken place, and the sixth had just begun, with no sign of your neighbor. As the show's highlight, the Bullet Fists and Bazooka fight was decreed to be the last. It's all very strategic. The organizers know that their audience's two favorites are these two fighters - mainly Bullet Fists - so by making them fight last, they're sure to attract more customers and make a maximum profit from the beginning to the end of the evening.  

Meanwhile, you hoped to see Jungkook before he entered the cage, but your hopes were dashed as his fight drew nearer. Deciding not to dwell on the subject any longer, you return the drinks to one customer before moving on to another. 

"Good evening. What can I get you?" You change your look of disappointment to a broad business smile. 

When your gaze settles on the customer in question, you have a vague impression of having seen him somewhere before, but you are having trouble remembering where and when precisely. 

"I'd say the bombshell I'm looking at." Pfff. So, he falls into the category of annoying, redneck customer. But hey, you're not going to criticize and try to make him understand nicely that you won't go any further than serving his order. 

"Ha. That's going to be tricky, buddy." You were trying to say it with a teasing attitude. It's not like you were with Jungkook, but a little more distant, leaning more towards sarcasm than anything else. 

It's well known that barmen/barmaids are known to be flirts; it's part of the show if they feel like ending up with tips; after all, they have to make a living from their trade. 

"Nothing's really complicated when you really want it to be." You hold back from telling him that so he has his answer, but you hold back, not wanting to be rude and risk losing your job just a week in. 

"What can I put you down for?" Not wanting to waste more time in his company, you change the subject directly. Not to mention that the line is getting longer and longer, so you've got your work cut out for you. It's either he orders, or he bolts. 

"Pint of ruby, baby." Boy, did you hate it when someone as reluctant as him called you baby? 

It's crazy because you'd never talked to him about your life before, and yet he was already pissing you off. Some people like that don't do anything to us, but just seeing them or hearing their voices takes us out of our depths. It's something inexplicable, and yet you were ready to put your hand on the fact that you weren't the only one in the world to feel that way, and secretly, it reassured you. 

"Right away." Unfortunately for you, the draught beer tap was right in front of you, so you had no escape route, but on the bright side, you could quickly give him his order as soon as you'd finished serving it and hope he'd get out of the way as soon as possible too. 

Misfortune never comes alone. While the man already had his order in hand, he was still perched on the counter, clinging on as if his life depended on it. Worst of all, his gaze never left your side, and you hated the feeling of being spied on.

"I've never seen you around here. You must be new around here." Your only response was a vague glance in her direction as you continued to prepare another customer's order. 

"I would like to be a dead leaf in front of your door so that you can overwhelm me with your beauty every time you leave your house." Hang in there, YN; you'll be fine. Just don't roll your eyes at him. 

Sohan, who wasn't far from you, seemed to have heard the shit flirty floppy pickup lines the stranger was trying to throw at you because when your eyes met, he laughed.

Returning the order to the customer, you moved on to the next one. Fortunately, this time, you had to prepare a cocktail, and what you needed was laid out on the worktop behind you, giving you a little respite from the dolt guy starting to get on your nerves. 

You tried to drag out the process of preparing the cocktail as best you could, taking your time and making the pleasure of not hearing the sound of his voice last, but all good things must come to an end, and you had to turn around to give the customer his order back and cash it at the same time. 

As you waited for the customer to enter his credit card code on the EPT machine, the guy took the opportunity to pull another bullshit. 

"Your ass is so beautiful; it's a shame you have to sit on it." You'd like to know where he comes up with these ready-made moronic phrases. 

"Let me guess," you say, addressing the guy, "Last night you had trouble falling asleep, so you couldn't think of anything better than searching the internet for 'the top 50 worst pickup lines for hitting on a girl?" 

Sohan and Minjun were preparing their own orders without losing any of your interaction with the stranger and couldn't help but laugh at what you said, which had the knack of nipping the other guy in the bud for a while. 

Unfortunately for him, just as he was most certainly about to come out with some new bullshit, a slightly older guy interrupts him. 

"Jung-Ho, man, I've been looking for you for ten minutes. Hurry up; it's time to get ready for the fight." Without the annoying guy - Jung-Ho, from what you'd heard - even having time to retaliate, his buddy drags him by the arm away from the bar. 

Unaware that you were holding your breath, you let go of it suddenly, a sign of relief, while you gave a small smile to a customer who hadn't lost anything for some time. 

Some time had passed after Jung-Ho had been dragged off somewhere, and in the meantime, the previous fight had just ended. One of the fighters ended badly banged up by his opponent's blows. 

"YN, flee. Go take a five-minute break." Minjun takes the bottle of vodka from your hand.

"But there are still plenty of customers."

"Don't worry, the crowd is thinning out. We can handle it." Sohan takes you by the forearm and gently pushes you toward the back door. 

"All right." Crossing the storeroom and the back corridor leading to the checkroom, you enter the room before grabbing your pack of cigarettes and your lighter and using the door leading to the back exit for staff members only. 

And to think you never smoked before. It all started three years ago when your life became a mess, and you found yourself with your head underwater. Alone in the world, with no one to turn to or confide in while your life took such a rapid turn that you couldn't keep up. 

You were aware that this wasn't the best solution, but the temptation had been stronger, and you took up smoking. 

It's unfortunate to say, but smoking takes away all the pressure you build up over a day. Sometimes, you manage to go days without smoking, but these past few days, when you're faced with a heavy, tiring day, you sometimes smoke a few. Ironically, as a smoker, you hate the smell of cigarettes and, even worse, the smell of cold tobacco. That's why you invested in an electronic cigarette. Not only could you control the level of nicotine you consumed, but you could also have the possibility to change the taste, and even better, you didn't have the stench of cold tobacco.

You used it more at home because even though you had a roof terrace, you were sometimes too lazy to go out just to smoke even more when the evenings were cold. And that awful smell was out of the question.

But in the evening or at work, you'd allow yourself a few normal cigarettes. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, delighted to see so many of you here. The moment of the long-awaited evening is finally upon us. The fight we've all been waiting for is about to begin." 

That was your signal to go back inside. The fight you, too, had been waiting for was about to begin, and the boys could finally take their break in turn. 

"So, without further ado, give your champion a fervent cheer to encourage them." Back at the bar, you noticed no more customers surrounded the counter, all drawn like flies had taken their places around the cage. "I hope you've made your bets, and may luck be with you." 

Since there were no customers, Minjun and Sohan went off to take their break simultaneously. "Let's start immediately by calling the young stallion, the handsome one, the tall one I named Ba-Zoo-Ka." 

As last time, cheers and jeers are heard in the hall. When the named Bazooka enters the cage. Your drink in your mouth goes down the wrong hole when you swallow. 

Bazooka is none other than Jung-Ho, a.k.a. the super-boring guy with the stupid pickup lines. 

Showing off, he waves to the crowd and sends flying kisses in the direction of the ladies before stepping into a corner, wisely awaiting the arrival of his opponent. 

"Now, let's all cheer for your favorite, the charmer, the beast, the god. I named Bullet Fists." 

Once again, it was to the sound of NEFFEX that Jungkook decided to enter. But this time, he changed his sound, opting for Untoppable.

I'm unstoppable (yeah)

Do the impossible (that's right)

I'm irresponsible (oh)

Yet I'm phenomenal (oh)

I got an arsenal (oh, yeah)

I'm dropping bombs, you know (oh, yeah)

No, I'm not stopping, no (let's go)

Conquer the obstacle (yeah)

Jungkook usually chooses his songs according to his current state of mind. Tonight, he chose this song because he wanted his opponent to understand that he would do everything he could to win this fight and make his opponent bite the dust. Jungkook was unstoppable and had come tonight to conquer the obstacle and return home with the spoils.

To the top, here I go, think I'm chosen

To be the king of rock, think the people have spoken

I can hear the tic toc of the clock, I'm in motion

So, now I'm gonna pop, causing all this commotion, yeah

Entering the cage in his turn, just like his opponent, Jungkook makes the rounds, charming the women with smiles and winks.

Positioning himself on the opposite side of the cage from Jung-Ho, Jungkook discards his black-and-white silk bathrobe before baling it up and tossing it over the cage towards his coach, Seokjin.

When the ring girl finishes her turn, holding high the sign indicating the first round, she exits the cage, closing the door behind her. In no time at all, the ring gong sounds, signaling the start of the match.

The crowd holds its breath, and so do you, waiting for one of the two opponents to throw the first punch.

Impatient to make his opponent pay for the beating he had given him the previous time, Jung-Ho launched himself first, advancing toward Jungkook before trying to throw his fist in his face. However, Jungkook was beginning to know his opponent's habits, as he didn't play on the element of surprise, making him predictable for his opponent.

Sohan and Minjun return from their break, and you hand them their drink, which you had prepared in advance, knowing the two men's predilection after the week spent in their company.

Rounding the balcony, the three of you sit on the high stools while enjoying your drink and well-deserved rest after charcoaling like mad for over three hours without a break.

"So, what did we miss?" Sohan asks, his eyes still riveted on the battle ahead.

"Nothing. It just started." Sohan nods. "Did you know the pathetic guy was Jungkook's opponent tonight?" The two men look at each other, laughing.

"Yeah. He's a regular here."

"And Bullet Fists' number one opponent." Says each of your colleagues in turn. "Every week he's there, trying to get his revenge on the previous time, but every time the result comes back to be the same." Adds Minjun.

"Let me guess, defeat." You ask without really asking.

"Bull's-eye, young lady," Sohan replies as your conversation dies and you focus on the fight.

Jungkook does nothing but take Jung-Ho's blows, much to the frustration of his supporters. He parries them without a care, but some manage to hit him.

"What you're witnessing is typical Bullet Fists." Riveting your attention in Minjun's direction, you waited for him to elaborate. "The fans don't understand that Jungkook takes his opponent's blows not to waste their time but to analyze his opponent."

"You see," Minjun continues his explanation. "By cashing in Bazooka's blows, Bullet Fists analyzes his power and strong and weak points. From the strength of his blows to the stability of his body and fighting style. That way, once Jungkook has deciphered his opponent a little, he can strike at Jung-Ho's weak points, ensuring victory."

"Besides," Sohan continued, "it allows him one more thing."

"What?" You ask.

"It allows him to tire out his opponent faster."

"What do you mean?" It's super nice of them to explain the fight to you. It's nice to watch the proceedings before you, but it's better to watch and understand the tactics and techniques of the fight and the fighters.

"Take a good look at Jung-Ho; how does he seem? Focus on the movements of his breathing, the expression on his face, but above all on his current performance compared to what it was at the beginning of the engagement."

In turn, you analyze the fight, and some things have changed.

"His breathing seems to be getting faster and irregular. He seems irritated and annoyed while his blows are slower and less frequent than before."

"I'm proud of you, little one. Give me five." Minjun says to you.

"So, in conclusion...?" Sohan asks you.

"As a result, I feel that Jung-Ho is already tiring." You conclude.

"Right on the money. And get ready because, in the next round, Jungkook will make mincemeat of Jung-Ho. For a change."

Again, the three of you focus on the fight while sipping drinks.

When the three minutes are up, the gong rings again, indicating a one-minute break for the boxers.

A few people return to the bar to replenish their drinks before the next kick-off. Only a few people, just a handful, return to their seats once the gong has sounded again. You take the opportunity to refill your glass with your favorite drink and those of the boys before joining them on the high stool you occupied before.

As Sohan told you, Jungkook makes short work of his opponent without finishing him off. But this time, he's not only taking the blows, he's also delivering them, which revives the crowd with every impact, raising the excitement level.

Unlike the rest of the room, the bar was also lit, which was pitch black except for a few neon lights and the ring light. Not with a powerful light, but somewhat subdued, allowing you to work in good conditions. As Jungkook shifted position, his gaze wandered over the crowd. But against all odds, his gaze landed on the bar where, despite the poor lighting, Jungkook noticed three people sitting there.

It's true that, returning to the Den today, Jungkook had vaguely heard that they had recruited a new person for the bar and that, this time, it was a young woman. But he hadn't given it much thought. Now that he could see her in the dark, he couldn't suppress the feeling of familiarity.

So, dodging a last-second blow from his opponent. Jungkook looked back toward the bar, and with a bit of prodding to adapt his view to the necessary condition, he saw that the young woman in the company of the usual bartenders was none other than you. YN. The woman who, for a week, had been haunting his thoughts.

"What?" His contemplation is interrupted by a right hook from his opponent, which causes silence from the people in the room and jubilation from Jung-Ho.

Unable to retaliate, as the gong sounds again, indicating the end of the second round, Jungkook returns to his corner.

From where he stood, Jungkook had a perfect view of the bar. If his memories were correct, he told you not to return to the Den during your phone call. So what the hell were you doing here. He only hoped that you weren't the new barmaid the others discussed.

"Pighead." You were pretty true to yourself, just going through the motions when he'd told you otherwise.

During his whole minute's pause, Jungkook hadn't taken his eyes off you, which didn't go unnoticed by Jung-Ho. Had Jungkook had a case with this chick? That was the question on Jung-Ho's mind. Were you related to him? He didn't know that; all he knew was that you'd attracted the attention of his sworn enemy and that he intended to use it to his advantage.

The Ring Girl finishes her round after indicating the third round, leave, the gong sounds, and the third round begins where the previous one left off.

Jungkook throws Jung-Ho a straight punch right in the face. As the punch was thrown and Jungkook's fist made contact with his opponent's nose, he felt a crack coming from his opponent. He had just broken his nose. Confirmation followed as soon as Jung-Ho's nose bled.

The blow had knocked him back a few steps, and instinctively, Jung-Ho brought his hand to his bruised nose.

"I see you saw my chick at the bar. So don't try anything with her because she's mine." Jung-Ho was playing with fire and knew it very well; he knew full well that Jungkook would retaliate, but the game was worth the candle. He wanted to get him off his back, and he was going to succeed. He would try with words if he couldn't rattle his opponent with blows.

This was precisely why Jungkook didn't get involved with anyone, to avoid this situation. To prevent his opponents from finding his weak point(s) and turning them against him. Yet he hadn't been able to help himself tonight with you, and as feared, his opponent had caught on and was now making him pay for his imprudence.

On the other hand, Jungkook wasn't fooled; he knew what Jung-Ho was up to by using you against him. But if his aim was to piss him off, he must not have been very clever because Jungkook was going to let off steam. So, in both cases, Jung-Ho would come out as the loser and more humiliated than on previous occasions.

"Once I'm done with you, I'll take care of her. Take her back to my place and fuck her so hard, she'll forget her own name."

Jungkook knew reacting or feeling affected by these words was pointless, especially since he was nothing and no one to you. He was just a simple guy who was lucky enough to be around when you needed him and who helped you out a few times before you found out he was your neighbor. Your 'relationship' ended there.

Then why did he feel a lousy emotion surging inside him? Usually, when his opponents tried this childish tactic on him - Jung-Ho was not the first and certainly not the last to do so - they couldn't succeed. Usually, they'd try it with the few booty calls Jungkook had, thinking they were his girlfriend, but they'd just turn out to be chicks he'd slept with.

With you, however, it's not the same. The man feels possessiveness, no, rather a protective instinct towards you. An attraction that's still difficult for him to determine is whether it's because he wants to have you constantly with him or whether it's simply physical attraction. In either case, he wasn't going to try to figure out which one turned out to be his.

You didn't understand what was going on between the two men. All you could see, however, was that Jung-Ho was engaged in a monologue, and by Jungkook's facial expression, you'd be willing to bet it was getting on his nerves.

Although there had been no physical exertion on the fighters' part, Jungkook's breathing was jerky. His face was closed, eyebrows furrowed as he played with his tongue, caressing the inner corner of his cheek. His closed eyes made him vulnerable to his opponent, yet Jungkook didn't care. He was trying to channel his nerves and calm down before committing the irreparable.

Although, as an underground fighter, Jungkook avoided having a man's blood on his hands. For the stupidest, most inconsequential thing Jung-Ho could be, for Jungkook's psychological sake, he was trying not to kill him tonight.

But the more obscene things came out of Jung-Ho's foul mouth, the more difficult it became.

From your point of view, everything happened very quickly for the human eye and brain to properly assimilate and transmit what happened to the brain. The only thing you and the supporters knew was that one second, Jung-Ho, a.k.a Bazooka, was standing with a goofy grin, and the next, he was knocked to the ground.

The crowd went wild, and the referee entered the cage to start the countdown to ten. Inwardly and unconsciously, you prayed that Jung-Ho would stay down and that Jungkook would be the big winner.

At the end of the ten seconds, Bullet Fists is crowned the winner after knocking out his opponent.

Once all the evening's fights were over, people went home. It's been almost an hour since everything ended, and still no Jungkook in sight. So you get on with life and work with Minjun and Sohan, who can't stop talking about tonight's fights.

Meanwhile, you continued wiping glasses, Minjun washed and disinfected the counter and worktop, and Sohan cleaned and put away bottles.

"Hey man, what can I get you?" Sohan's voice snaps you out of your concentration, and you rivet your attention to the person he is addressing.

Finally, Jungkook showed up. You couldn't see his full clothes, but he wore a black hoodie. He was kindly seated on the counter's high stool.

"As usual, but give me a triple shot." With that, Sohan grabs the bottle of Whisky and, as requested, pours a triple shot before adding a large diamond-sized ice cube.

Although you try to make eye contact with Jungkook, he seems determined not to meet your gaze. Pretending to be focused on his glass and its contents before drinking it and asking for more.

Finish wiping up and putting away the last glass, you take the bottle of Whiskey from Sohan's hands.

"Don't worry, I'll manage." You dismiss him as he takes the opportunity to grab the mop and take care of the floor.

Meanwhile, you pour the bottle's contents into Jungkook's glass before handing it to him. Reaching for the glass, his fingers brush yours. It's undoubtedly a cliché to say it, but as you do so, a gentle warmth seizes you while an electric current runs through your body, causing goosebumps.

But as if burned by fire, Jungkook quickly moves his hand away from you and sips the drink. You didn't understand this distance on his part. You knew he was ignoring you, but the question was, why?

During your last exchange, everything had gone well, so you didn't understand his hostile behavior towards you. Ignoring all this, you tried an approach.

"Hey, Quasimodo, that was a hell of a fight. What did he say to you, Bazooka, to get you all worked up and send him to dreamland." You try to tease him to dispel the electricity between you.

There's nothing worse in this world than the silent treatment and being ignored by someone. Jungkook heard you all right. You had no doubt about that. You were alone in the room, Minjun having finished his duty while Sohan had gone to put the mop away in its place.

Instead of answering you, Jungkook empties his glass and stubbornly does not address you or even look at you; he gestures for you to serve him again.

"No." Two could play this stubborn game.

Surprised, Jungkook decided to look at you at last, one eyebrow raised as if to ask if you were serious, which you were. You close the bottle and put it back to show him you weren't joking.

Jungkook gives a little laugh, taken aback by your audacity. "All right."

He stands up, throws a bill on the counter, and heads for the exit without giving you another glance.

On the other hand, in total incomprehension, you let out a loud sigh.

"Trouble in paradise, sexy?" Startling you by not having seen him coming, you turn your head to come face to face with a rather severely banged-up Jung-Ho.

"Not in the least." You pretended to be busy so as not to have to interact with the individual. Luckily, you still had Jungkook's glass to wash.

"Can you pour me a drink?" Jung-Ho asks.

"Sorry, but the bar's closed, and I don't know if you realize it, but tonight was pretty hectic, and I just want to go home."

"All right, what do you say we go back to your place, and you buy me a drink?"

The audacity of this guy. What could you say to get him off your back once and for all? It was late at night, and your socializing battery was at minus a thousand, so you were planning to make it clear to him word for word that you weren't interested in him, but you didn't have the time to do it.

You were so absorbed in avoiding Jung-Ho that you hadn't noticed that Jungkook was still present, standing in the middle of the stairs. He had caught all of your interaction with his opponent.

He was determined to ignore you and head home for a hot shower to relax his tense muscles. He would also take the opportunity to treat his wounds before throwing himself on his bed, but once again, you eradicated his plans.

He couldn't ignore the obscene images playing in his head. Imagining everything, Jung-Ho told him he would do to you once the fight ended. He turned around and walked back down the steps towards the bar.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook." He berates himself as he braves the distance between you.

"Get your stuff, we're going home." And lo and behold, once again, Jungkook holds out the stick to be beaten.

"Excuse me?" Stunned by his nerve. First, he ignores you for no good reason, and now he wants to take you home? What a joke.

"Grab your stuff, and let's get out of here." Minjun and Sohan return from wherever they are and stumble upon a scene they never thought they'd witness, especially from Jungkook.

In all the years the two men had worked in the Den and rubbed shoulders with Jungkook, they'd never seen him in such a state.

"Who's we? You, you mean."

Closing his eyes and sighing, Jungkook blurts, "YN, don't play smart with me. I'm exhausted and want to go home." He finally opens his eyes, and his gaze is dark. "Get your damn things, and let's go home."

"The lady doesn't want to go home with you, buddy. So fuck off." Swings Jung-Ho finds the situation amusing and throws more fuel on the fire.

"You shut up, you prick." Jungkook was ready to knock him out again, but Minjun intervened.

"Okay, guys, let's take it down a notch. The fight's over."

"Here." Sohan hands your jacket and bag before gently pushing you out from behind the bar.

"See you Tuesday," Minjun tells you as you walk past him.

"All right, I'm going home, but definitely not with you." You walk past a greatly annoyed Jungkook and pretend to ignore him as you put your leather jacket back on before adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

"I'm going to kill her," Jungkook mutters to himself before taking you by the hand and dragging you to the exit.

"What the fuck, man? I can walk on my own."

Suddenly, just as you'd reached level zero and were walking down the short corridor to the exit, Jungkook pushed you against the wall, trapping your body between the wall and his body.

"Don't play with my nerves, princess. I think I've had enough for tonight."

"Then leave me alone and go home." You shake off his hold and leave the building before starting to walk in the direction of your home.

"Don't be stubborn, YN, and let me take you home."

"How kind of you to come to my aid, my good man. But I can get home just fine on my own." His attitude and mood swings were beginning to make your head spin and play with your nerves.

"Goddammit, woman, get back here." Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. So he runs after you, grabs you in bride mode, being sure you can't get out of his grip, and walks towards his car the opposite way you'd gone.

Arriving at his vehicle, Jungkook unlocks it and opens the passenger-side door before sitting you in the front seat and buckling your seatbelt.

"I know how to buckle myself in. " You clap your hands to ward them off. Your eyes met no sooner than you felt electricity in the air again.

"Great." With that, Jungkook straightens up before slamming the door. He walks around to his car, climbs on the driver's side, puts the keys in the ignition, and starts the vehicle toward your respective homes.

All the way home, you sulked, refusing to speak to him as he had done to you. For his part, Jungkook was seeing red. He gripped the steering wheel angrily, driving like a madman while his knuckles were white.

He wasn't angry with you, even though you didn't listen when he told you to not set foot in the Den, and as usual, you didn't listen to him. No, he was pissed at himself for giving his opponent something to get at and, even worse, for succumbing and getting involved with you once again.

"Fuck." He punches the steering wheel as he accelerates again.

"You're fucking crazy. Slow down; I don't want to die." Once again, he ignored you, and the current speed exceeds 100 km/h.

"Jungkook." You could see that he was no longer present among you; his gaze seemed lost in the vague. You really were going to die tonight because of a fool.

Images of you and Jung-Ho replayed in his head, making him even more angry. But luckily, you had just entered your street. Stopping short in front of his house, Jungkook barely had time to save you from banging your head against the space just above the glove compartment.

"Sick bastard." And with that, you undo your seatbelt and get out of the car, not forgetting to slam the door.

That snapped him out of his delusion. "Shit." He gets out of the car just in time as you circle the car to cross the road and finally return to the comfort of home.

You had two days off, so you would enjoy forgetting this catastrophic evening. But your plans were postponed, as Jungkook managed to pin you against his car and wedge you between it and his muscular body.

"What's the matter with you?" You shouted in his face.

For crying out loud, Jungkook says nothing. Taking your cheeks between his calloused yet gentle hands, he seals your lips. He draws you into a kiss filled with passion and desire but also filled with frustration. His frustrations. Deepening your kiss by inserting his tongue into your mouth and pressing his body to yours, Jungkook takes you out of this world and into a whole new one.

You didn't know why you let that kiss go on. Indeed eager for Jungkook, too. Of their own accord, your hands pass under his sweatshirt, making direct contact with his skin and those iron abs he had. Your lips let themselves be led by his, engaged in a frenzied yet sensual dance, while your tongue was carried away by the rhythm. Your kiss was torrid initially, but Jungkook still built up the intensity.

Your body reacted well to his, fitting together perfectly despite your size difference, like chemical elements that, when stimulated, became incandescent with desire.

You let yourself be carried away by his hands that roamed your body, memorizing every curve. Your hands got lost in his hair, and out of pure reflex, you tugged gently on it, eliciting a grunt of pleasure from him. You both needed oxygen but feared that the reality would spoil everything if you paused to catch your breath. But Jungkook tried anyway and went for your neck.

He leaves his mark as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your neck, in the joint between your neck and shoulder. Running a hand over your back, you feel his broad hand move down to your butt before he takes one of them in his hand. A delicious moan escapes you, going straight into his ear and cock. With his hand still positioned on your butt, Jungkook greedily pulls you against him, pressing you even closer.

You resume your torrid kiss again, which causes you to lose all signs of strength in your legs, and you have to hold on to him to keep from collapsing to the floor. The streets were empty, and the brothel below your house was already closed, given the late hour. Only the moon and stars witnessed your moment.

Your moans mixed with Jungkook's grunts were a sweet melody in your ears. Tongue dancing together, teeth chattering, and his hands on you were the perfect mix to bring you to the gates of Nirvana. You felt that with Jungkook, you had unlocked all the keys to liberate yourself from your condition of suffering, illusion, and ignorance.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Jungkook is the one who ends your fiery exchange. Yet his body remains glued to yours as he gently rests his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed as he inhales your scent, imprinting it once and for all on his mind. Your scent was sweet and bewitching. Your breaths are jerky and violent.

Caressing your cheek with his thumb, Jungkook succumbed to his weakness one last time before ending your exchange.

"You're driving me crazy." His voice was low, weak, and hoarse. "What are you doing to me, princess." And with that, he broke the gentle contact of your bodies and looked at you one last time before heading off to his home, leaving you alone, still leaning against his car, wondering what the hell had just happened.

n/a: I hope you enjoy this short story as much as I do. To ensure you don’t miss the progress of the chapters and their release, don’t forget to check out the Working on and Updates section. There, you’ll find updates on “Fighter” and other stories and “One Shot” that you’ll probably enjoy. Also, don’t forget to check out the Masterlist. You’ll probably find something for you among my other stories in progress and those to come.

Also, don’t forget that if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider buying me a coffee.

Taglist : @variety-is-the-joy-of-life ; @ttanniett

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© Jeon_s_Sins

#jk fighter #yaya #jeon s sins #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #jk boxer #jk underground fighter

[kxxkiecxre]

ʚ✟⃛ɞ Like a Moth to a Flame || J.J.K ʚ✟⃛ɞ

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader/x jimin.

SUMMARY: Your best friends older brother meant more to you than just a friend, unfortunately it’s a little too late now.

WARNINGS: smut implied on multiple occasions.

GENRE: best friends brother au.

WC: 5.4K

//unedited, y’all should get the gist by now :’)\

NEXT

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PERHAPS **the most **important part of being someone’s best friend is being honest, truthful and sharing everything you can. And if you can’t share a secret with your best friend, then it most be something she can never find out. Right?

Exactly.

Which is why you’re currently biting your nails, sitting like a duck on your own egg shells. Hoping to god that your reddened cheeks can be blamed for the spicy jalapeño pizza you just shared between each other as well as the many soju bottles. However you cannot be 100% sure everyone is buying your little gimmick, seeing as he’s staring at you with an amused smirk, pretending he’s all too interested in making himself a cup of tea.

Why does he have to be like that? Besides he wasn’t even suppose to be in the house in the first place, Yeji explicitly told him to leave the house since she’s going to throw a small birthday party for her 20th. Doesn’t seem like he got the memo from what you can see.

“Anyway,” yeji, cuts herself short, “what’s the dirtiest place you have had sex in y/n”.

Cheeks reddening to a beetroot red, you clear your throat slightly, looking around the table before choosing your words carefully, “back of his car”.

“Just back of his car?”

“At the rear parking lot of 7/11, at midnight”, you finish.

“Risky, wouldn’t of said such an innocent little Angel like you would actually commit such a heinous crime huh” he voiced his opinion without missing a beat, watching as the death glare formed on your face.

“Don’t act like you’d even know what having a bit of fun means,” you scoff, Yeji oblivious to your little game.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself y/n,” he warns with a slight smirk, sipping his tea.

“Don’t project your insecurities on me cause you can’t get bitches Jungkook” you roll your eyes, clearly not amused by his obvious teasing.

“I’m sure you’d know” he chuckles, exiting the kitchen and leaving your almost growling at the kitchen table, where everyone’s eyes are on you.

“What… was that?” Sujin asks.

“What was what!” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but with Jungkook’s teasing and shit eating grin engraved in your mind you felt like popping.

“That roast battle?” Yeji asks, “by the way you ate him up”.

“He had it coming” you slumped back into your chair, sipping your sweet old whiskey mix.

Yeji brings her hands up in surrender, letting the subject drop faster than a needle to the ground. It’s not that there was much she could ask. You never made it super clear that her brother angers you so much that you wish he’d rearrange your guts on more than one occasion. But like mentioned, not everything can be shared, somethings are just better left unsaid.

After a few more hours of drinking past your limit and eating way too many spicy foods, you felt like you’ve had your fun. Ready to leave the party right after everyone has gone and dusted. But Yeji was too good of a friend, too sweet and protective. And who were you to give up an immediate soft place to crash on?

“Yeah but where would I stay, it’s not like,” you hiccuped past your slurred sentences, Jungkook right behind you and Yeji, chuckling to himself as he watched both of your try to speak in your slurred states like two toddlers trying to learn to speak for the first time, “we could fit on the same bed, because let’s me be honest ji, I’ve got a fat ass and your single bed will not handle me”

She pondered for a second, lips formed in a cute pout and eyes wide despite the droop from the alcohol in her system. She was the spitting image of her brother, except in female form and a lot more daintier, “take Jungkook’s bed, he’s been an asshole anyway”

You snort unattractively, hand covering your mouth as you and Yeji fall into a fit of drunken giggles, almost falling over while leaning on each other for support, “okay, I’ll leave a bunch of cockroaches behind too”

“No I’m serious,” she whines slightly, “it’s not safe to go home now, and Uber drivers are perverts.”

“I’ll just walk I’ll be fine Ji,” you grabbed her shoulders, confident in your remark but before you could even take the slightest step to the door, Yeji has other plans.

In the process of trying to grab your shoulder, she accidentally grabs your boob, rather harshly at that, and because of the slight pain that you still have in your freshly pierced nipple, you almost fall over in pain, “ow my boob!”

“Oh shit sorry!” She chuckles, “hey, at least the piercing feels nice!”

You smirk at her, keeping eye contact as you stumble closer to her, “it looks even better in real life”.

“I know,” she giggles, “because I’m the one that put it there”

Once again falling into a pit of giggles with a traumatised Jungkook behind you, you finally reach your end stage of being drunk, a small sob leaving your lips, “can I actually sleep in his stinky room?, what if I get kidnapped on the way home”

“Of course you can,” Yejis lower lip trembles, finally reaching that stage with you, “can’t she Jungkook”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, not quiet sure how you guys got to this stage since he left with his tea and what’s worse is he hasn’t realised that to your drunken eyes it looks like he just said no, so now you’re not sobbing, you’re practically wailing together, grabbing each other’s hands like it’s the end of the world.

“He really is an asshole” she wipes her eyes, “all the times Y/N, bought you banana milk and you won’t let her sleep in your room!”

“I-“ the poor man tries to defend himself.

“And all the times I’ve got you gimbap!”

He sighs in defeat, muttering incoherent words to himself as he finally leans off of the wall and stalks over to both of you very gently and slowly, “first off, I did not shake my head-NO- and second of all, please stop staring at me like that I feel threatened-“

“As you should” his younger sister practically growls.

“Anyway, y/n, why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable in my roo-“

“I’m sorry if I obliterate your bathroom with vomit, I really don’t mean to” you sniffle, right nostril blocked from crying.

He blinks, mentally counting down from 10 and begging god for patience because not only is there a possibility he’ll have to clean your vomit up and be there for you because his sister will be sleeping like she’s dead, but she’s currently pss’pssing as if there was a cat in the house… which there isn’t.

“It’s okay, just please, go to sleep”

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Maybe the smarter idea would of been to stay at home after literally burning your entire digestive system with alcohol not even a four days ago, but despite that, and the lack of a boyfriend, somehow, you have found yourself immersed by yet another tequila drink and music booming around your entire aura. Hips swaying side to side and hair absolutely going wild after you have successfully lost your hair tie around two hours ago.

Yeji was no better, screaming down the phone to her annoying and hot brother, who apparently is very pissed and worried because he’s had a tough training with his coach today, and now his night is going to be filled with yet again taking care of two drunk messes. She keeps yelling at him, telling him she’s absolutely not giving him the name of the bar you’re currently trashed in. You vaguely hear her scream a bunch of curses at him before your attention is diverted to a pair of hands on your hips.

Turning around to meet this gaze you find probably one of the hottest creatures of man kind. With hooded dark eyes, and pink floppy hair and luscious plump lips he looks like a sinning Angel. His pearl white teeth sink into his plump bottom lip, the cross necklace on his dark shirt stealing your attention as you start dancing with this handsome stranger, absolutely perfect.

Without much thought to your current situation, you signal to Yeji that you are leaving with, Jimin, as you learned his name is. Right the second Jungkook enters, expression clearly not amused by your little escapade with his sister. You giggled to yourself as Jimin chuckled, helping you into the taxi.

And by the time you could really think about what you’re doing, his cross is swinging by your face as he hovers above you, kissing his way down your body right after giving you the best orgasm you’ve experienced, eyes sultry and lips coated in your essence. You were on cloud nine as he left marks on your neck and chest, rubbing his thick cock along your folds, before sliding in with ease, gasping as you clench around him, watching as his expression twists into ecstasy, he was gorgeous. Railing you like there was no tomorrow, and you know for fact you will not regret this night, not even in a million years.

Waking up the next morning was a daze, finding yourself nausea but not throwing up, and laying down next to a extraterrestrial being, you got out of bed in a rush, realising you promised Yeji to grab hungover brunch together. The man beside you groans, stirring awake, “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up”.

“You don’t have to do the walk of shame babe,” he chuckled, voice incredibly arousing, stirring something deep inside your stomach.

“No-“ maybe that was too quick of a reaction, “it’s- I meant to be meeting my friend in ten minutes for brunch, and I don’t want to be late.”

He gets out of his bed, watching you as you put your clothes on deciding to do the same, “maybe I could drop you?..”.

Your lips part in thought, “Uhm are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you don’t owe me anything actually yesterday night was amazing-“.

“Do you really not remember me?” He asks with a soft chuckle.

Your brain stirs, realising the familiar gaze, voice and eyes. He definitely changed, but good god did he even get hotter, and maybe you were to drunk to realise yesterday that his name was literally the same as your ex friends with benefits partner.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, to which he laughs gently, now dressed in grey sweats and a black shirt.

“I see time did you good y/n”

“Fuck me did it do you good” you laughed, slipping your red dress back on, cringing a little.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?” He asks, already going to his drawer full of hoodies and sweats.

“I mean if you’re okay with it-“

“Come on don’t act like we didn’t use to do all the time” he hands you a brown hoodie and black sweats.

Smiling a little, you slipped the clothes on he gave you, watching as his eyes gleamed with a certain twinkle, “so? You disappeared for five years Park, where have you been?”

“Studying in Canada, I came back because I got a good job offer here” he mutters as you head out of his apartment, and straight down into the underground parking lot.

“Oh, damn. That’s nice, I’ve still another year of studying to do unfortunately” you chuckle a little, buckling your seat belt as he starts his car.

Within small talk you get to the small cafe by Jungkook’s place, being met with the man himself and his younger sister. Jungkook does not look pleased at all, a prominent scowl on his face while he glares at his whining sister, but in all fairness, he looked absolutely ravishing. In blue ripped jeans, and a white polo shirt. Hair slightly messy but never the less he looks gorgeous, just like always. With your stare on him and voice more clear he whips his head up, noticing you with a man is quite the strange sight for him, and he’s not really sure why he all of a sudden feels even angrier than he was during training.

Sitting down next to Jungkook and Jimin next to Yeji, you sigh, the crispy breeze of autumn absolutely devouring your lungs, “remind me to never drink again hm?”.

Jimin chuckles before you realise you never actually introduced him, “oh right, guys this is Jimin my friend, Jimin Jungkook and Yeji my best friend”.

“Ah the famous Yeji”

“Famous?” Your best friend managed even though her voice was ragged just like a cat being dragged through her vocal chords.

jimin chuckles a little, rearranging the cap ingulfing his hair, “yeah, Y/N wouldn’t shut up about you yesterday night, kept complaining saying you’ll be concerned, but to be honest you didn’t seem all too worried yesterday night’’

Yeji hums, squinting while the sun shines in her eyes. you on the other hand whine, hand covering your stomach while you pout a little, clearly very hungry with your hungover. Jimin picks up on that, smiling a little before ordering you a smoothie and an acai bowl. how sweet. seemingly, though, Jungkook doesn’t quite like the picture in front of his eyes, muttering something incoherent under his breath, and while you notice you choose to blame his sour mood on his training.

‘‘so kook, how was training’‘, you ask, nibbling on your paper straw.

‘‘good’‘ is all he answers, clearly not excited to overindulge you.

‘‘when’s the upcoming fight’‘, you say, trying to make it clear you’re devoting your entire attention on him.

he sits up in his chair, still slacking but not as bad as before, one hand under his chin as he looks into the small cafe, “friday week” he answers.

“are you excited”

he scoffs a little, “you could say that”

Confused and slightly baffled at why he’s giving you the cold shoulder you sigh, closing the menu you were scanning for no apparent reason and stand up of your chair, “kook, would you mind going in with me for some water?”

He looks at you with minimal hesitation, “for.. water?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly tilting your head trying to make it obvious to him that you are trying to to talk to him in private, “water”.

He licks his lips swiftly, clearing his throat and following your lead, watching your back with intent, wondering why the hell you’re dressed in oversized mens clothing, when suddenly, like a lighting strike just hit him, he realises.

Once at a small corner at the cafe away from others he looks you dead in the eyes, clearly some type of emotion swarming his head as he suddenly looks slightly pissed off, body tense and brows stern, “you slept with him”.

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Like he was there last night and saw all the things Jimin did to you. Shocked and maybe a little shy, you gulp, “well… it’s my life. I can choose who I sleep with..”.

He scoffs with a slight smirk, no, not the type of smirk where you want to kiss it right of his lips or the type you want to smack away because he’s cocky, no, the type were he’s clearly pissed.. beyond pissed, “why him?”

Now you were getting agitated, foxy gaze hardening and cheeks warming to a serene pink, “why not him!”

“Because!” He controls his voice, looking around to Make sure he hasn’t captured any unwanted attention.

“Because?” You questioned, clearly baffled now at where this man has gotten his audacity.

“Goddamnit y/n” he sighs rubbing his face with his hands.

“What’s so wrong with him that I can’t sleep with-“

“He is my fucking opponent this Friday.”

“Oh”

He stares at you, tight lipped and fuming, and all though you know better than to continue egging him on. You still open your big mouth, “well I don’t know how that affects the fight since it’s my vagina and not yours he fucked”.

Blinking about a hundred times in one second he literally just stands there for a solid minute trying to decipher what you had just said to him, “I don’t have a vagina”.

“Sucks for you I guess” you shrug your shoulders with a straight face.

He bites into his lower lip, clearly not amused by your little shenanigans, inching closer to you, he has a certain glimmer in his usually brown eyes, with just a little sheen of cloudy darkness, “I promise when I win that fight, I will prove to you that no other man will *ever *compare to me… physically…mentally” he moves in closer, just an inch away from your ear, “stamina wise,” his hot breath on your delicate skin was exciting, hairs rising on your neck and goosebumps forming, “and bed wise”

With his final words he moved away from you slowly, before tucking your hair behind your ear all while you’re sure someone has electrocuted your insides. Maybe this man is trying to kill you, maybes he trying to tease you or perhaps, he means what he says.

But two can always play the same game, “well,” you give him your best innocent look, “I hope you’re a man of your words, good luck.. Kookie” swiftly moving around him, you shoot straight for the door, heart racing and insides melting. what . the . actual . fuck.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Fuming… that’s what you are right now. Angrily stomping your way to the familiar building you dig your nails further into the palm of your hand, cheeks blushed with the anger coursing through your blood and face stern. Not quite concerned with the people, most of them already know you.. and who you are coming to see, it’s pretty obvious.

Coming up straight to the punching bag the tall man is apparently taking his frustration out on, you bit into your lip. Calming your breathes and trying your best to not pop, “I will personally take a rope, put it round your neck and choke you. Who the fuck do you think you are”.

Not really paying attention to you, or more so being bothered by your outrage because he’s expected this, he throws a mere glance your way before speaking up again, “do you have anyone else to bother but me?”.

Rolling your eyes so far back into your skull that it physically hurts, you give him a sarcastic laugh, “you’re so funny don’t you think? Stay out of my business Jungkook. I’m serious”.

He stops punching the bag, holding it in place with his gloved hands, “you, got into, my, business, first.”

At this stage you will need all mighty gods strength to stop yourself from absolutely obliterating his face right this second, “fuck you Jungkook, you’re so fucking annoying. YOU are not my brother, YOU are not my father or my boyfriend. YOU do not dictate who I can fuck and who I can’t. Stay in your own lane”.

Suddenly angry, deep frustration taking over his eyes, darkening his orbs to a colour almost unrecognisable, “do you know what he says about you?” He stalks towards you, almost like a prey to its victim, “do you know how he tells everyone of his friends he fucks your everyday? That you’re desperate? Choking on his fucking dick? My entire friend group has been bombarding me, telling me my sisters best friend is getting railed by my opponent, never mind that actually, it’s the fact he has so little respect for you. I promise you, when I’ll be in the ring, he won’t come out of my hands alive”.

Throwing the gloves off his hands to the floor, he walks to the locker room with one last look at you, but you’re stupid, and not at all listening to your rational brain telling you to let him cool down, “well I just think it’s stupid you’re so willing to risk disqualification over me”

He chuckles emptily, “so I’m stupid because I care?”

“No, you’re stupid because you’re risking the biggest fight of your career.”

“So help me god Y/N,” he stands up off the bench, sweaty figure close to your body to the point you can feel his heat radiating warmth onto your skin, “I’ll do it all again and again and again, if it means you get the respect you deserve.”

Because you absolutely have no self control and curiosity always gets the best of you, you look into his eyes and ask, “why do you care so much?”

His expression turns soft, eyes melting every worry, anxiety and pain away, “because you’re my friend too, and my friends mean a lot to me.”

Understandable, but despite the feeling that there’s more to this words than he lets on, you nod in slight agreement, “fine, I’ll stop seeing him”.

He says nothing, simply turns around and begins to take his shirt off, “you might wanna wait outside unless you want coach to explode with anger”.

The hardest part about being alone is… being alone. Simply put. There is only so much a person can do by themselves, and sure it’s relaxing to be alone sometimes, but not all the time. It gets lonely, dark… soulless. Not only in the caged four walls of your home, but generally speaking. A human needs another human, it’s instinctual, it’s inevitable. Just like any other creature, a soul needs a partner. Surely, by now you’d have found someone if you were interesting enough, but in all fairness, you seem to be probably the most general, imperfect and boring person alive.

Staring at the ceiling for what feels like a decade, which in reality was an hour, your mind sinks deeper into your feelings, into the depth of your heart. It almost feelings like your brain is rummaging around, throwing things randomly while accidentally continuously hitting that one spot, that one spot that hurts. And since it’s busy, it doesn’t help you find out why exactly it hurts. It makes no sense. Being in pain, without a source. Without a reason, without pain.

Most people like to believe that their one and true love will come by, wether that be in five minutes or twenty odd years, you choose to not be foolish. You don’t believe in falling in love instantly, you don’t believe in love at first sight. Call it depressing, but you like to believe you’re quite the optimist. Just not in this scenario.

Any sane person would probably avoid walking in lashing rain to ease said -pain without pain- situation, but that’s exactly it. You’re not sane enough right now. You’re not exactly functioning properly, is it because of the lack of humanly touch? Or because the last time you saw another human being was when Jungkook almost killed Jimin in the boxing ring? Sighing you shrug your coat on and leave your apartment. Forgoing your umbrella.

What happened that day? What got into him? That despite the fact you begged him hours before to not hurt him too much, he went further of your plea and obliterated Jimin. The screaming and roaring in his apartment didn’t help his busted lip, but during that heated fight were Yeji stood in the hallway door silently crying as both you and him swore to never even look each other’s way again, you left a tiny yet crucial part of your being with them.

What the fuck happened that day.

To put it short, Jungkook wasn’t handling everything well, and when you pushed through into his place, he scoffed, asking you to leave. Maybe you should have, but you weren’t just pissed that he hurt Jimin, no, you were pissed that despite everything you begged him for, you especially begged for him to not get this disqualified. And sure it’s not the end of his career, but it was not needed. It was not necessary. Yet he’d gone and did it, which is why you started yelling, and from one word to another, both of you started cussing each other out, the entire argument was pathetic but it thought you many things, and it’s only been a month since that said fight, yet all of you is slowly dying and you don’t know why.

Maybe ignoring Yeji was not necessary, but if you talked to her, you knew it would blow up in your face. It’s too soon, too soon to be even near him.

*“Are you crazy” he yelled, anger at a boiling point. *

“*Maybe I am, but fuck Jungkook you got yourself disqualified!” *

*“So what?” He scoffed bitterly, “stop pretending like you give a shit about me” *

“*Oh that’s just pathetic” you sighed rubbing your forehead. *

“*So now I’m pathetic too?” *

“Yeah as a matter of fact you are! You’re pathetic, pathetic for throwing away your chance like that” you yelled, sure you face was getting red.

“*And you’re just a naive little girl, grow up Y/N, open your fucking eyes, stop trying to find good in everyone, stop believing everyone, stop trusting everyone! Stop sleeping around with everyone!” He yelled back, equally as pissed. *

Your face dropped, a needle to your heart, that’s what his words felt like, “oh that’s just low Jungkook, that’s just low even for you. Fuck. You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to call me a whore or whatever else because what I do with my body is none of your business. You’re so low for that Jungkook, that was a douche bag move”.

“*It’s the truth!” He countered, not looking in your eyes. *

“*Yeah,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting the tears back from your eyes, “you’re right, I’ll stop being naive, I’ll stop trusting people, as a matter of fact Jungkook, I swear I will never look your way again, I promise you’ll never hear from me again and I’ll make sure that the last you’ll see of me is if I were to die. I swear on everything that is dear to me in this world”. *

“*So do I” he shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. *

*Without looking back, you stormed out of his apartment. Desperately trying to stop the tears flowing from your eyes, but your efforts were just that, efforts. *

Crazy is what it was, it was a spurt of dumb non meaningful words. It was like spinning in a tunnel of webs, with absolutely no way out. Like sitting in four walls painted black with no escape. Like sitting ducks waiting to be eaten by their prey. It was in the heat of the moment. Yet it hurts like hell, maybe because you’re crazy in love with him, or maybe because it’s just that. Love.

*Not sure when he’s arrived at your house or how he got in, but he stumbled in regardless, holding a bag of snacks, drinks and a bottle of red wine with a small smile on his pouty lips, “horror marathon?” *

*Giggling you nod, watching him slip of his shoes and coat, neatly placing them beside yours. He practically skips his way to your small living room, cozying himself up beside you and nuzzling his nose into your arm like a dog would to get head rubs. *

*within half an hour into the movie you find yourself running your fingers through his silky hair as his head laid on your stomach, sleeping peacefully. He was beautiful, serene and too cute for his own good as he breathed in softly. He was as lovely as he could be, kind yet teasing but he always took care of you, even when you wouldn’t realise it, and you’re not exactly sure why, but it didn’t matter. *

It was hard to look back at the memories, it’s like knowing a stranger who knew all your secrets, a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be. How incredulous. How generic, the girl who doesn’t believe in true love, falling so hard and so quick, it’s honestly laughable. A joke. Maybe even a whole circus.

*“Okay, but under the condition that I get to braid your hair?” He bargains. *

*What was there to bargain? Well you wanted to put mascara on his lashes since they’re so curly and long, but of course he has to bargain, “wait really?” *

*You couldn’t careless that he’d braid your hair if you’re honest but rather you couldn’t believe he actually agreed at all, “mmm only because I love you so much” he said, holding your waist as you sat on his lap on your bed. *

“That’s literally unbelievable!” You gasped after generously applying the mascara to his lashes, “can I please take a picture?” You begged.

*“what- no absolutely no” he shook his head *

*“oh but please kook!” You whined, pouting a little to make sure your charm was working, *

*he squirmed a little before mumbling, “fine but you have to put it as your screen lock for three months and you have to pinky promise it!” *

Staring at your lock screen, you feel your heart break just a little more, you can feel it get squeezed and beg to be let go off, but despite its efforts the band tightens a little more when you remember where you are, and where you’re sitting.

*sitting beside you on the dirty old bench He looked absolutely adorable as he sipped softly on your pumpkin spice latte, face lighting up as his taste buds responded well, and you could swear his eyes had little stars splattered around his pupils. He was incredible, in every sense of the word. *

“It’s amazing wow” he says after awhile, the snow beneath your feet melting at the sight of his adorable pink cheeks.

*“it is isn’t it?” You hummed, smiling softly. *

“*No like it’s literally beautiful Y/N” *

*you giggled at that, taking the sip he offers you so kindly, his upper half covered in the mustard color puffered coat you bought him for his birthday. *

You hated reminiscing, because it’s not snowing right now, and he’s not sitting beside you melting you down with his soft gaze and what became his pumpkin spiced latte, instead it’s pouring rain, with thunder rumbling the skies and your soaked and absolutely freezing.

*Giggling you begged him to stop, but instead he continued tickling your sides demanding an apology and a kiss to his cheek, “I promise I won’t slap your butt again!” *

*His attacks stopped, “now the kiss” and as obedient as ever you did as he asked. *

You were sort of thankful for the rain as it disguised the stream of tears running down your face, hiding the entire pain your body was engulfed in as you watched the deserted streets.

“Yeji would absolutely kill you for being here right now”

Which was your bed, doing something he absolutely hated, cuddling. “Yeah well she can suck it because it’s her fault, she threw a goddamn party”.

“*I know, I was suppose to be there” *

“awww sucks for you I guess, besides I am the party”.

In dire need of warmth you finally got up from the bench, heading back towards your apartment like you should have done a long time ago. What you thought would of been a source of stress relief was instead the opposite. Barely feeling your hands you stuff them in the pockets of your coat, that did absolutely nothing to keep you warm.

And as you stare ahead, you see him. You see him strolling ahead under dressed for this weather just like you, he noticed you too, and for a second you thought everything that happened within that month, was just a fever dream, but you realise it’s just wishful thinking.

And just as promised,

You walked by each other, without looking each other’s way.

**A/N: I’m sorry if it’s rushed I’ve literally wrote this in under an hour while at the ER lol. I hope you enjoyed this! Leave a comment or request if you have any! **

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

#bts drabble #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook #bts #fiction #kpop #boxer jungkook #boxing au #bts jeon jungkook #jeon junkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook drabble

[btsgotjams27]

jungkook has a big match coming up and you love teasing him.

✨ title: stay focused | ✨ pairing: boxer!jk x girlfriend!reader ✨ word count: 643 words | ✨ rating: M ✨ genre: established relationship, boxing au ✨ warnings: reader is chesty and a tease, jungkook is mean but really horny because he's on a sex ban, there's a heatwave, swearing, groping, touching ✨ a/n: based off of this tweet. i apologize for ensuing chaos on my dash ;)

"jeon, what's your girl doing here?" jimmy, his trainer asked, glaring in your direction.

jungkook straightened his posture, turning around to see you walking in with a white tank top, ripped a little down the middle, tits practically hanging out, and those stupid jean shorts he loved so much.

you couldn't help yourself, you'd been teasing him at home with booty shorts, oversized shirts with hardly anything underneath, driving him completely insane. also, you blame your outfit choices on the stupid heatwave, it wasn't your fault.

"fucking hell--" jungkook wiped the sweat off of his head, beginning to take off his gloves. "i'll take care of it," he said to his trainer.

"you have five minutes jeon."

unabashedly, you grin and wave your manicured fingers at your boyfriend who's heading towards you.

he walked over, pulling you away into a darkened hallway, away from the others, caging you in against the wall. "what are you doing here? you know you can't be here," jungkook scowled at you. you knew how important this match was to him, his career.

"you weren't picking up your phone and i needed a cool place to hang out in because our air conditioning broke...again," you explained, hoping he'd have some kind of sympathy for you.

jungkook clicked his teeth. "fuck. okay, i'll call someone to come repair it, but you...you gotta go. now."

"you're not happy to see me?" you teased, tucking a piece of his drenched fringe back, only to have it fall back into place.

he licked his lips. "of course, i love seeing you, but i gotta stay focused...and right now...i'm not focused," he said, glancing down at your tits, causing his dick to become strained in his shorts. jungkook darted his eyes back at yours. "you should go."

you shrugged, proceeding to walk away. "'kay. see you at home kook."

fuck. jungkook felt bad for being so brash with you, but he needed to be. "wait--" you abruptly stop, returning to your previous position against the wall, peering through your long eyelashes at him. he closes the distance between the two of you. "sorry--i just...haven't being able to touch you in weeks has made me gone mad."

"you're a dummy. jimmy said you can't fuck me, he didn't say you couldn't touch me or yourself."

"i know but...if i touch you, then i can't stop, you know that," he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.

you slightly nudge your nose against his. "jimmy didn't say anything about me touching you..." your words trailing off...hands too, toying with the elastic of his shorts.

"baby... don't..." His eyes flutter shut, imagining your hands wrapped around his hard length. you bit your bottom lip, watching the torture and tension happening within himself.

"turn around," he whispered. fuck--he knew this was a bad idea, but you couldn't help grinning while you turned to face the wall, cheeks pressed against the cool wall.

jungkook glanced in the direction of his trainer to make sure no one was watching. your breathing began to slow down, waiting for him to make his move. jungkook placed his large hand on your right ass cheek, squeezing and kneading causing you to whine. the simplest touch put you over the edge. this is the first time he's touched you in four weeks, you'd been doing the work yourself since he refused to go near you. his body was now flushed against yours, making you feel his hard length pressed against your ass.

he leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear, "you're gonna be the death me, you know that." you nodded at his words, biting down on your bottom lip, wiggling your ass at his strained cock. but jungkook stepped back, leaving you frustrated and annoyed.

"gotta stay focused, baby," he said casually before walking off, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #idk what came over me #i just had to write this for funsies #boxer jk #jungkook drabble #fic: stay focused #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut