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roxenworks · 1 year

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Worse Than Dying

TW// Whumpee is a hater, public humiliation, stabbing, military whump (barely even there), nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, lady whumper, kidnapping, erm ask if I should add more

Dante was currently having an awful day. He was currently in the depths of hell, on a mission. He had worked so hard so that this wouldn't happen. Dante had “convinced” a Warlord to place him as a prison guard for reapers. Reapers that practically laid around doing nothing.

War was indeed such a horrible thing. Especially when your side wasn't doing well. Reapers themselves were generally harmless. They collected the souls of the dead and sent them to the Overworld or Underworld. That wasn't as vital as their ability to travel between The 6 Planes. They could be anywhere anytime, and they were secretive too. As such, the Crowns and the Warlords decided they were too dangerous to keep around without supervision.

Demons having kept around Reapers as workers opposed this, and vehemently fought them. The war since then had been a mess for the Overworld, the Red Crown's disappearance, the losing fights between the Heirs and Warlords, and even several angels vanishing as well…Dante just hoped he wouldn't be the next missing person.

The Underworld was a perilous place, the ground red and dry, and the heat overbearing. Dante was here on the rescue mission, a Warlord had found out where several angels were being kept. If successful, they could have an extra edge in this war. It was an honor to receive this task, and Dante was sure he would come back with his fellow angels in tow.

Now this task was stationed in Wrath's territory, a terrifying demon princess that was one of the main fighters in the war. Which meant she wouldn't be around most of the time. With Dante able to deal with any guards stationed nearby, it was as simple as not setting off any alarms.

The thing is, Dante did not take up this task by choice. He would rather not even be anywhere near here. Unfortunately, this was a direct order from a Warlord, his Warlord. Meaning there was no way to refuse. He just had to find where the angels were being held.

Dante walked along, he was dressed in traditional white gold, and blue robes with a spear in hand. He had no thought present as to dressing any similar to the demonic scum that lived down here. The spear in his hand was sure to cut down just about anyone who tried to cross him.

It remained unused, the walk was long and there was nothing in sight. There was, however, someone who was following him. Dante had felt a pair of eyes staring at him from a while ago. It was unnerving and creepy. This mystery person seemed to always stay away, though…maybe they're scared? Not wanting to get killed, but probably going to report to their superiors after…not good.

“Demon! Face me.” Dante unfurled his wings, his wings were an even more emphasized color than his hair. A bright gold, shining even brighter in the grim environment of this place.

“Oh?” In a swirl of black fog, a lady appeared. Brown skin and braided hair that led all the way down to the ground. Wearing some black and red robes that trailed behind her. “What lovely wings.” A fan covered her mouth, showing only aloof eyes.

Dante frowned, they didn't recognize this demon, perhaps she was previously an affluent human? “…Speak your name, demon.” He pointed the tip of the spear at her.

“Speak my name to you, little angel? Naive.” The demon's eyes flashed a bright orange, and a red mist emerged from the fan. “I think you'll make a great gift for my brother.” The fog curled around Dante. His body started feeling heavy like his bones were made from lead. He used the spear to keep himself standing.

Orange. Orange. Fuck. Dante felt his eyes widen, only the Heirs had those orange eyes. Who? There's no way this was Wrath. Wrath used a sword to cut angels down, not a fan and mist. They were brutish and cruel. “You're an Heir, aren't you? Which one of the bastards are you?” He straightened his back in a poor attempt to appear in fighting condition.

“You'll figure it out soon enough.” The woman got closer, and the swirling mist became thicker and thicker. Dante dropped to his knees, gasping as Wrath grabbed his chin and forced his face up. “Such a pretty little thing…you should be glad, an angel like you would sell well. Who knows what would happen to you? Turned into chopped up and fried angel bits.” Wrath licked her lips.

Dante's face paled. They eat angels? He had to get out of here. He blinked, why couldn't he move?

“Are you finally scared now, angel? Don't worry, I'm sure my brother would love a bird to keep around the house.” A grin full of sharp teeth. The hand slowly moved to his hair, grabbing it roughly. “It's quite the trip, I hope you don't mind.” His head wasn't working fast enough to figure out what that meant.

Wrath was dragging him along with her with leisure. Dante couldn't move his body to even attempt to fight back. His wings were simply twitching uselessly. The surrounding terrain eventually changed, becoming a plain road with scattered houses on either side.

The mist's effects waned, but Dante did not have enough trust in his strength to fight against Wrath. He did have the strength to glare at every demon that looked his way. Was this woman actually planning to drag him all the way through their cities?

She was. Dante felt his face burn in shame as they entered one of the metropolis areas, the streets were crowded, and naturally, him being dragged caught a lot of eyes. He hated every whisper, smirk, and leer in his direction. He'd line them up at the Gate of the Overlord and chop their heads off if he could. Dante could vividly imagine how those wretched things would act when their horns were broken and torn off. Tails chopped into bits. Make them beg and plead…

Dante felt his hand twitch, slowly, but surely he was getting his motor control back. He just gritted his teeth and waited. The Warlords would surely tear this place apart, especially if there was no word from him. He would just have to endure.

Enduring was hard when Dante could tell they were heading to a skyscraper, so much human tech here, tasteless. As they got closer and closer, the looks became less bemused and mocking and more intense and cold. These were definitely demons that fought angels. If he landed in their hands…it would not be pretty.

Dante had to wonder about Wrath's brother, how would he react to his presence? Hopefully, he would just be kept in a cell until rescued.

“We're almost there, angel.” Dante winced, the demon was running now. The brick scrapped his knees badly, regeneration be damned. He tested out opening his mouth, good, it worked. Now it was a test of patience, not cursing the vile brute that's been dragging him for god knows how long.

Now Dante was being dragged up the stairs of the skyscraper, finally being let go once they reached the front door. Dante nearly fell down, but his body reacted for him. His wings flapped, and he shot up, Dante headed straight back in the opposite direction of the skyscraper. He'd take the moment of surprise to try to create some distance, then-

Dante gasped, feeling a sudden pain piercing in his stomach. He slowly looked down and saw a grappling hook sticking out of his stomach. He was filled with a sudden sense of foreboding before he was pulled back down to the earth.

If Dante said the impact didn't hurt at all, he would be lying. He just tried to breathe, looking up at the blurry figures above him. Oh, he must have hit his head pretty hard.

“See! I have good taste, don't I Griff?” Wrath giggled, and he tried to focus on the other one, this Griff.

“…Not bad.” The voice was deep and smooth, and if Dante was any more delirious, he'd mistake it as attractive. It sounded like his Warlord. “Let's take him back.”

Wrath giggled and bent down towards his face. He tried to move to get away, but his stomach burned something terrible, so most of his energy was spent trying not to scream. He could only stare as Wrath hovered the open fan over his face.

She smiled widely, showing off rows of razor-sharp teeth, and closed the fan with a snap. Dante felt a force hit his face, and he was out like a light.

#whump writing #whump oc #whumpblr #tw public humliation #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whumper #lady whumper #tw kidnapping #tw stabbing #roxenwriting

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 3 years

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Mean Girls (jjk)

Summary: Jungkook is usually bored at his job as a tattoo apprentice, but the day you walk in, he finds it a lot more interesting.

Warnings: this got way outta pocket, assertive top reader, some degradation and slight humliation, oral (m. receiving and f. receiving), semi public sex, alcohol (no sex involved), unprotected sex (pls wrap it up irl), reader is just mean and JK loves it, hair pulling, teasing, cum eating, dirty talk, I wrote the last half of this while very ill so probably shitty editing I'm sorry

Word Count: 9138

I like girls that are mean to me...

Meeting women is not the number one perk of Jungkook’s temporary job as a tattoo apprentice, but it’s certainly not a downside. Taking a gap year from college wasn’t something that went over terribly well with his parents, but his friends had rallied around him.

Namjoon offered him his guest bedroom right away, and Yoongi asked him about thirty questions about his art that he had scribbled in various notebooks, and suddenly Jungkook found himself doing tiny hearts and stars on the sensitive skin of someone’s ankle or the inside of their wrist.

Yoongi still watched over him like a hawk, of course, and after three months still wouldn’t let him so much as make a mark without supervision, so Jungkook spent a lot of time in the lobby, waiting around for someone to come in or taking notes on what someone would want while Yoongi was busy.

Women who frequented the tattoo shop were often beautiful, but that’s no surprise since Jungkook is the type to think that the majority of women are beautiful, and he’s finally past his awkward youth phase so that he can talk to them without stammering.

Well...usually.

When you walk in, he notices the tattoo winding down your leg right away.

“Touch up?�� He asks, and you narrow your eyes slightly.

“Who says I need a touch up?”

Jungkook starts, only a little, heart skipping.

He supposes that, if he were in a movie, this would be where they’d use the record scratch sound effect and insert some kind of narration like, “Oh, I forgot to mention that Jeon Jungkook has quite the hardon for mean girls.”

It’s not true, at least not exactly.

Jungkook hadn’t even noticed it until his girlfriend had broken up with him just before his gap year started and he was moping around Namjoon’s apartment.

“Why’d she dump you?” Yoongi asked over a couple of beers.

Jungkook shook his head but it made him dizzy so he just looked down at his beer. “I dunno. Something about how she wants someone more motivated and we’re going in different directions.”

“Isn’t she the one who called you an idiot in front of everyone in that restaurant that time?” Namjoon chimes in and Jungkook groans and nods.

Yoongi snorted out a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. “So you like them a little mean.”

“What?” Jungkook didn’t lift his head but now both Yoongi and Namjoon were cackling so he frowned.

“Like them to slap you around a little bit?” Yoongi doubled down and Jungkook was ready to defend himself but then he paused, picturing it, thinking of a line of exes who had been assertive, even aggressive, even a little...mean.

“Shit, maybe.”

So anyway, that’s where the record should have scratched, but it didn’t, because this is real life and not some weird romantic comedy, some High Fidelity au in which it’s all about tattoos instead of music.

Jungkook fucking loves romantic comedies, but standing nearly six foot tall and wide from all the time he spends in the gym, not to mention a full sleeve with an eyeball on his bicep doesn’t make him seem like the type.

He smiles a little and leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter. He’d started doing this as a teenager, bit of a tip from Namjoon of all people, because it makes your biceps taut and makes you seem larger all at the same time.

Doesn’t work on you, though. In fact, you actually roll your eyes, and maybe his dick does actually twitch beneath his jeans that time.

“I’m looking for Yoongi.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Jungkook knows he’s being a shithead and his mouth keeps wanting to turn up at the corners. Yoongi doesn’t even take appointments. The tattoo shop had always been walk in.

You raise a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “He takes appointments now?”

Jungkook nods. “Lots of business lately, as you see.”

The lobby is completely empty except for the two of you.

You look around and give him a wry smile that he celebrates a little in the back of his head.

“I see.” You look at him for a moment, as if sizing him up, and then dart past him and he can see even more of your tattoo as you move, a well done one that isn’t fading in the least.

Jungkook sighs and stands up, peering through the back door as you interrupt Yoongi’s session and earn a curse but then a big hug, nonetheless.

Jungkook finds himself pouting just a little, he knows he just met you but you’re interesting and Yoongi gets all the interesting girls. They’re usually mean, too. Jungkook isn’t the only one with a penchant for sassy women.

Yoongi introduces you to Jungkook a few moments later.

“Oh, we’ve met.”

“Was he being a little shit?” Yoongi asks, but he gives Jungkook a fond smile.

“I would expect no less from one of your employees,” you say, and when Jungkook laughs it sounds goofy and his ears burn red when you give him a withering look.

“He’s a good kid,” Yoongi says easily. “So what do you want done now? You finally gonna get that-”

“The back piece, yeah,” you agree, and Jungkook perks up.

“I could help with line work, if it’s a big piece.”

Yoongi shoots him a look but you shrug.

“Whatever. Yoongi knows what I want. Hell, you can draw it up for me if you want, give it your best shot.” You lean just a little closer to him. “One condition, though.”

Jungkook’s breath catches but he tries his best not to show it.

“Yeah?”

You smile, a wicked one that just turns up one corner of your mouth. “Call me noona.”

You’re not mean, exactly. You just know what you want. More importantly, you know what you don’t want, and you don’t want some overgrown kid hitting on you while you’re trying to get a tattoo.

However, you’ve been friends with Yoongi for going on ten years, and you trust him with all your body art, so you have no reason not to trust his accomplice, no matter how irritating.

Thing that really sucks is that...well, he’s cute. Really fucking cute. Big doe eyes, bunny smile, big enough to throw you around but something tells you he wouldn’t without permission.

A little sassy, but that’s always fun at least in the bedroom…

You shake your head, realizing that you’ve been reading the same line from your dissertation over and over again. Entering grad school on the wrong side of your twenties wasn’t your plan, but you’d ended up with life experience that you considered worth the wait.

Now, you’re older than most of the friends you’d made (including Yoongi) and so your dating pool tends to be guys a bit younger than you as well, so it makes sense that you’d be attracted to the apprentice.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You know from the past few years you’ve spent having flings with young guys, especially ones that attractive, generally don’t work out and at worst, you end up hurt, so you’re not sure why you agreed to let him work on the back piece you’ve been planning for years.

Maybe you’re more of a masochist than you realized. Either that, or you just liked getting a rise out of him, noting how his ears turned red when you smiled or asked him to call you noona.

You’re woman enough to admit that it’s probably the latter.

You won’t be starting your new piece until after the weekend, though, and you’d rather stay at home and finish up your dissertation but your friends are dragging you out.

Your roommate, Luna, had all but begged you to come with her to karaoke but you’d staunchly refused, knowing that you’re the type to embarrass yourself after too many drinks. Not that you often partook in one too many drinks.

You like to have a semblance of control over your life, and you admit that seeps into your love life as well. Dating younger guys with little ambition means that you don’t actually have to commit, after all. It means that you hold all the cards, and you can take care of yourself when it inevitably doesn’t work out.

You suppose that if your life was a movie, this is around the time that the action would pause as you’re saying “no, I’m absolutely not going to karaoke with you, Luna,” and then it would cut to you, at a karaoke bar, drunkenly singing a Sheryl Crow song.

This isn’t a movie, though, and so it’s two shots before leaving the house and then a two block walk to a nearby bar, which definitely does not offer karaoke, Luna promises with wide, innocent eyes.

For a while, she’s right, but just as you’re taking your third shot, there’s suddenly speakers being set up in the back.

“Luna, goddamnit,” you mumble, turning around and smacking into a wall of chest.

“Excuse me, noona.”

The last word like honey, oozing charm and sass, and you scoff.

“Oh, God, not you.”

“Yep. Me!” Jungkook says cheerfully, leaning over you to order a drink and where does he get off being so big, anyway?

The alcohol is making you even grumpier than usual, and he smells good, freshly showered and with some sweet smelling cologne. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid, anyway? Weeks? Oh God, months?

Keep it together. He’s only a man. Barely a man, even, he’s just a kid in a man’s body, barely old enough to-

“Can I buy you a drink, noona?”

Jungkook blinks at you innocently but you’d swear he’s fighting a smirk.

“No,” you insist, but he does it anyway, just telling the bartender to bring another round of what you’d previously ordered.

He holds out his shot to toast you and you just glare at him.

“What do we have to toast to?”

“Our new and blooming friendship,” he says dryly, and this time you do snort out a laugh, despite yourself, and toast him before slamming your shot back.

He takes his with a little grimace that on any other man in any other circumstance would be quite cute.

“Don’t get it twisted. We’re not friends. This is a professional relationship.”

Jungkook nods but his eyes sparkle. “Yeah, of course. I’m a professional, noona.”

You choke on your mixed drink, but manage to cover it by clearing your throat. He has a way of calling you noona in the absolute brattiest way that makes your skin heat up.

“You gonna sing?” He asks, and you vigorously shake your head.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? Are you scared?”

You huff a breath out through your nostrils.

“Fuck you. No, I’m not scared. I just don’t like making a fool of myself.”

“Why don’t we make a deal?”

“Why don’t you fuck off?”

You’d blame it on the alcohol but this is often your knee jerk response, and Jungkook pouts a little and you soften.

Fuck, he is cute.

“Sorry, tequila makes me a bitch,” you apologize. “Fine, what kind of deal?”

Jungkook breaks into a big smile, then, as if all is forgiven and you stare at him for much longer than you’d intended.

“I sing first, then you sing. Just one song.”

You shake your head again but then he pouts again and the tequila is doing funny things to your head so you finally agree.

“Just one.”

You’d been wrong before. The true cut to you drunkenly singing karaoke should have come after Jungkook made the deal with you, because since you’ve been drinking and you’re in a place with lots of noise and people, it seems like you blinked and then Jungkook is singing karaoke, a ballad of all things.

An eighties ballad, and he has the voice of an archangel and what, you’re supposed to follow that?

Fuck that, you do hate him, despite his cute little poutit and bunny teeth and red ears when you smile at him. You’re trying to decide how to shimmy out the bathroom window when Luna, traitorous bitch that she is, comes dragging you out of the bathroom to sing.

It is, indeed, like in your movie fantasy, an old Sheryl Crow song that you used to sing when you were younger, and Jungkook applauds even louder than Luna.

“You know, you have a really pretty singing voice, noona.”

The term isn’t as biting or sarcastic as usual, at least, but you scoff, nonetheless and sit back in your booth.

Luna continues to be a traitorous bitch by inviting him to sit with the two of you and he pulls up a chair at the end of the booth.

“I’m serious. It’s like husky, kind of...sexy.” He turns the chair around to sit on it backwards, propping his forearms on the back and looking at you.

Your skin feels flushed and you blame it on the alcohol and the body heat of the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“You’re not good at accepting compliments.” Jungkook states, as if it’s a fact.

“Yes I am.” You argue, even though he might have a point.

“Hmm.” He keeps looking at you and you turn your face away, staring down into your mixed drink. “Do you go out a lot?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t.” You glare at Luna. “She made me.”

Jungkook laughs and then turns to Luna.

“Thank you, for bringing her out. It was nice to see you both.”

He stands up and you frown up at him.

“Where are you going?”

“Early morning. What’s the matter, noona? Don’t want me to go?”

You want to hit him. You want to kiss him.

You want to hit him because you want to kiss him, and you’re tipsy enough to realize that.

“I’ll see you on Monday. Don’t even think of fucking up my tattoo.”

Jungkook only gives you a slow smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, noona. I told you, I'm a professional.”

Jungkook had been instantly attracted to you, but he’s attracted to a lot of women who come through the doors of the tattoo shop. Particularly, the mean ones, and even more particularly, the mean, older ones.

Ever since he was young, he’d preferred the more experienced girls, and that was no different now that he was an adult. Every girlfriend he’d had was at least a few years older than him, and it wasn’t by accident.

At least, not exactly. He’d dated girls his age, too, of course, but when he thought of his perfect woman….it was someone both assertive and experienced, and by and large older women were more likely to have those qualities.

You happen to have those qualities and all the physical qualities he looks for in a lover, as well, so he isn’t surprised that he ends up being really and truly interested in you after seeing you at the bar.

He is surprised by how much he thinks of you the next day, and how anxious he is when he asks Yoongi if the two of you had ever dated.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

“Hyung, please,” Jungkook whines, giving his friend the big doe eyes which usually gets him what he wants.

Yoongi groans. “You’re not gonna be this cute forever, kid, use it while you can.”

Jungkook gives him a big smile. “That’s what you always say, hyung.”

“No, we never dated. Just friends.”

Jungkook shifts his weight back and forth for a moment. “Does that mean I have a green light?”

Yoongi snorts. “With her?” He pats Jungkook on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Jungkook isn’t sure what that means, but he’s grateful at least that you aren’t one of the mean girls Yoongi has dated, and he barely sleeps the night before you’re scheduled to come in for your first session.

He’s done the sketch that you wanted, a pretty elaborate piece with a lot of fine line art, and he does his best to keep it from getting wrinkled on his walk to the shop but his hands are sweaty and he’s nervous.

He had taken this job originally because he had no other options, but he has to admit that doing this sketch made him enjoy it much more than he’d anticipated.

You look over the sketch for what seems like an inordinately long time, but when you look back up at him, you smile.

“I love it, Jungkook.”

It makes his chest feel as if it’s swelling, the pride that he feels, and he thinks maybe Yoongi is right, that this job is something he’d enjoy.

Either that or he just really likes the way you smile at him.

Could be either, honestly. Jungkook doesn’t kid himself and fancy that he’s some kind of casanova. He doesn’t get a lot of girls, despite being attractive, and it’s mostly because he’s really more of a relationship guy.

He’d never reveal that to his younger friends, but it’s true that he believes in real romance, maybe even at love at first sight, so he doesn’t normally do things like one night stands or short flings. Maybe it’s uncommon for a man under 25 to be looking for love, but it’s just always the way he’s seen things.

You’re walking past him into the back room where the chairs are before he realizes it and he sputters.

“Ah, Y-Yoongi isn’t here, yet.”

You take off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding it, before sitting down on the chair and resting your chin on the back of it. You look back at him while you’re unhooking your bra and he’s just gaping at you from the doorway like an idiot.

Jungkook isn’t a sixteen year old anymore, but he’d be lying if he said that the expanse of smooth skin on your back, the arch of your spine, didn’t appeal to him.

“Hyung will be here-”

You groan. “Shut up about Yoongi. You said you could do some of the line work, yeah? You can do the line work and sketch, he can do the color. Easy.”

Easy, you say. Easy. He’s never done a tattoo bigger than the size of a stamp due to Yoongi’s control issues, and yet you say easy.

He’s not about to tell you that, not about to give up the chance to do a bigger piece, so he applies the sketch to your back, checks the placement with you before loading up the gun with hands that tremble just slightly.

Your skin is so soft and smooth, freckles dusting your shoulders and when he puts his hand on the slope of your waist you giggle softly.

“Sorry. Ticklish.”

Jungkook finds himself just staring at you, wide eyed, before he clears his throat and more gently places his hand on your hip to steady you as he turns on the gun.

It’s meticulous, the line art, and he figures you’ll need a break before he’s halfway through the outline but you grit your teeth and hold on to the chair arms, shaking your head when he asks you and breathing out through your nose.

Jungkook’s impressed and...a little curious, if he’s honest with himself.

He manages to focus on the task at hand, which is more difficult than he’d imagined with all your bare skin under his palm. He gets the outer outline done on your large back piece when he sits back.

“I’m good, you can keep going.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Yoongi says multiple sessions are better so we can get it right.”

You turn your head just slightly on the back of the chair, smiling. “Do you always do what Yoongi tells you to do?”

He feels his cheeks heat up. “N-no.”

“Cute,” you mutter, and his ears feel hot now so he puts the gun away, takes off his gloves and stands up to clean up the tattoo, showing you in the mirror.

You stand there for a moment, looking, before slipping your bra off.

Jungkook chokes on air and looks down at the floor immediately.

You laugh softly. “Never expected you to be a gentleman.”

Jungkook doesn’t look up until he hears your shirt shift when you put it back on.

“I’m a professional, noona, I told you.”

You don’t break eye contact, and he wants to look down, busy himself with cleaning the instruments, but he doesn’t, waits.

Eventually, you just smile and walk out and Jungkook lets out a long breath.

This is fine. It’s fine. He learned to control his dick in high school, tattooing someone he finds intriguing and sexy should be no issue at all.

Yoongi finally shows up an hour late and Jungkook glares at him.

“I own the place,” he says with a mouthful of kimbap. “I come in when I want.”

Jungkook looks longingly at the to-go box Yoongi puts down on the back table and Yoongi rolls his eyes and shoves it toward him. “Spoiled,” he scolds, but he smiles.

Jungkook, grateful to be thinking about something other than your bare skin under his fingertips, shoves the food into his mouth.

“Did anyone come in?”

Jungkook swallows and nods, not looking up. “Your friend. Y/n.”

“Oh?”

Jungkook still isn’t looking up but he can feel the way Yoongi is looking at him, all smug.

“What? You weren’t here, I did her outline. It was fine.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook does look up, scowling, and Yoongi chuckles.

“You should ask her out.”

Jungkook chokes on the pilfered kimbap and has to take a sip from his water bottle before responding.

“What? Why?”

“She’ll probably say yes.”

“What? No, she wouldn’t--what, no. I don’t even like her. She’s mean.”

The words are fumbling out of Jungkook’s mouth before he can think about them and Yoongi laughs again, louder, staring at him.

“Thought you liked mean girls.”

Jungkook groans and bangs his forehead against the table.

“Shut up.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up. “No, it’s not like that.”

“So then I can ask her out?”

Jungkook startles and bangs his knee on the table, wincing as he frowns at Yoongi.

“I thought you were just friends.”

Yoongi shrugs and he’s still got this shit eating grin on his face. “You never know.”

Jungkook huffs and stands up. “I’m going to hit the gym and come back after lunch, since I covered for you this morning.”

Yoongi waves a dismissive hand at him, rifling through some sketches Jungkook had brought in for various tattoos.

“These are actually pretty good,” he mutters, and Jungkook rolls his eyes, knowing that the comment wasn’t meant to praise him but more of Yoongi’s inner monologue.

He supposes he’s flattered, nonetheless, but he feels antsy, like he needs to move and stop thinking.

Yoongi grunts. “Yah, get out, go do your meathead thing before you start bouncing off the walls.”

Jungkook doesn’t have to be told twice, all but bolting out of the building and walking to the gym. It’s six blocks away, but at least it’ll give him something to do.

He doesn’t know why he told Yoongi he didn’t like you, especially when he’d just had a revelation about how much he did like you. It was some stupid knee jerk reaction, not wanting to admit he had a crush on Yoongi’s friend. It isn’t as if he hadn’t had crushes in the past, even a few small ones on his friend’s girlfriends, not that he would have ever admitted it out loud.

He’s not sure he’s ever so instantly had a crush, though, the way he had with you. You’d walked in the door, said something snarky, and it was like his brain turned to mush.

You’re so very clearly not interested that he feels like it’s stupid to even consider what Yoongi said. You’re so self assured and mature and hell, he has no idea what he even wants to do with his life.

Jungkook is good at a lot of things, but not very good at anything, or so he believes. A jack of all trades is often a master of none, and it makes Jungkook’s stomach roll to think of not being the best at whatever he chooses as a career. He’s handsome, he’s fun, but long term? What can he offer a woman like you? A roll in the hay and a couple of drinks down at the karaoke bar?

He shakes his head as he walks into the gym, not wanting to think about it further.

It’s not as if you hate Jungkook, not exactly, anyway. It’s more that you’re annoyed by his confidence and flirty behavior, especially now that you realize he has no plans on doing anything about it.

You’d come back into the tattoo parlor when you’d passed Yoongi’s car, wanting to say hello to your friend, and managed to overhear what Jungkook said. You’d gone back to your car, fuming, but ended up coming back into the shop anyway.

He said you were mean? You’re aware that you’ve been told that before, and you’ve laughed it off, but someone it seems more serious coming from Jungkook. You’re still stewing about it in the lobby when Yoongi meanders in from the back.

“Oh, shit. Why didn’t you call for me? I didn’t know you were waiting.”

“Just forgot to get the lotion stuff,” you mutter, and that part is true, at least mostly.Maybe you’d wanted to make Jungkook blush one last time, but apparently that makes you mean.

Yoongi rifles through the cabinets behind the desk for a moment before sitting a bottle on the counter.

You pull out a few bills to cover it but he waves you away.

“Aw, I get special treatment?” You tease, feeling a little better when Yoongi gives you a gummy smile.

“Nah, no special treatment. You’re gonna buy all my drinks tonight.”

You scoff. “You drink like a fish, that’ll cost a lot more than this lotion.”

“I’ll take some off your tat, too. C’mon, you can meet my friends.”

“I don’t know if I want to meet any more of your friends.”

Yoongi tilts his head at you curiously. “What, you don’t like Kook? He’s a good kid.”

You make a harrumph sound under your breath and Yoongi just laughs.

“Fair enough. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“You know what that means.”

Yoongi stares at you blankly.

You grin. “You have to dance with me.”

Yoongi lets out the most exaggerated groan and you can’t help but laugh.

“That’s the rules, Yoongs. I buy your overpriced booze, and you dance with me.”

“One dance.” He bargains, and you shake your head.

“All the dances.”

“You’re terrible at compromise.”

You shrug. “You can buy your own drinks, then.”

“Okay, okay! You got me, I’ll do it. I’ll dance with an attractive woman, God, I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Aw, Yoongi, you say the sweetest things.”

Yoongi has the good grace to flush a little, and it makes you happy.

“Meet me here after close at ten.”

Hey, punk, come out with us tonight. 10:30 at the Dirty Dozen.

Jungkook sees the text around 9, which doesn’t give him a whole lot of time to get ready, and he goes back and forth about whether to attend at all for about half an hour before he reckons that anything is better than pretending to watch television and being mad at himself for developing yet another crush on someone way out of his league.

He doesn’t do much but slick back his hair and put on a pair of jeans instead of sweats, opting for just a simple t-shirt and his boots instead of something more formal. The Dirty Dozen is a dive bar even on the weekends, and it’s a Thursday night.

When he arrives, he’s almost an hour late and everyone has clearly already been drinking, Taehyung greeting him by enveloping Jungkook in a bear hug that almost bruises his ribs.

Jungkook hasn’t been around the entire crew for a few weeks, so there’s lots to catch up on, and he doesn’t notice that Yoongi is absent until he's poured himself a second beer and taken a shot with Jimin.

The lights in the bar seem to swirl a bit when he turns around to look at him and Jungkook makes a mental note to drink water before the next drink. He knows well enough that among his friends, refusing another drink this early in the night outright would be near blasphemy, but he can at least take a break.

“Where’s Yoongi-hyung?” He asks finally. The bar is surprisingly packed for a weekday and he doesn’t see him at any of the nearby tables.

“Probably snuck out with that girl,” Jimin suggests, leaning over the bar to try and get the bartender’s attention. It’s 50/50 whether he’s trying to order a drink or flirt with her.

Hoseok laughs and nods. “The mean one?”

Jungkook suddenly feels like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. “Wait. What girl?”

“Oh, there they are.” Taehyung takes Jungkook’s shoulder in his hand to pivot him toward the dance floor, and Yoongi doesn’t dance, so Jungkook hadn’t even thought of looking in that direction.

In fact, hardly anyone danced at the Dozen, save Jimin or Hoseok while they were romancing one of the various girls they picked up there. Tonight, though, there’s a few couples on the dance floor, some low and sultry R&B playing on the jukebox.

Jungkook sees Yoongi’s bleached hair first, his hand on your hip and he’ll admit that for a few seconds all he can look at are the long expanse of your legs in the white skirt you’re wearing.

He’s not jealous. He’s absolutely not jealous, because that would make no sense. Sure, he thinks you’re gorgeous and witty and well, a little mean, just the way he likes his partners, but he’s not jealous when Yoongi puts both hands on your hips, pulls you back against him to whisper something in your ear that makes a grin spread across your face.

“Is Kookie drunk?” Taehyung whispers, but of course this is Taehyung and he whispers like he was raised in a saw mill, so Jungkook gives him a harsh stare and downs what’s left of his beer.

“Of course not. Jimin, order us shots. My treat.”

The guys whoop and yell and Jungkook refrains from taking a look back to the dance floor with real effort. He’s out with his friends, and what you and Yoongi are up to is frankly none of his business, even if it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up to think about it.

Thinking is for morons, anyway.

The night flies by for you, and you’re not surprised. You always have a good time with Yoongi; there’s a reason you’ve been friends for so long. Yoongi appreciates your sense of humor and gives back any mean comment you give him. He’s also, despite his distaste for doing it in public, a great dancer, and the other guys are all fun and sweet, as well. You find yourself not thinking about Jungkook and his dumb big wide doe eyes and his stupid muscles and how he called you mean. Even when he shows up, fashionably late, you just roll your eyes and try to ignore him, which is easy enough because he’s doing his level best to pretend that you don’t exist most of the night.

You end up sitting at a table near the jukebox with Yoongi, having switched to water around 1 a.m. Yoongi has promised to walk you back to your hotel room and what the hell, you might just fuck around and invite him up. The only reason you and Yoongi haven’t hooked up before tonight is because one or both of you have been in relationships most of your friendship. You’re pretty sure he’ll say yes, too, and you’re trying to remember if you’re wearing matching underwear or not when one of Yoongi’s friends (Hoseok, you think) is whispering something in his ear.

Yoongi mutters a curse under his breath and takes your elbow. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

You frown but nod and he’s swept off by his friend.

You wait for a while but you’re definitely not known for your patience so eventually you see the cluster of men at the bar, and one of them, Namjoon, if you remember correctly, is heaving another off a barstool to piggyback him.

You smile a little, figuring one of them drank too much, and it’s sweet how they all come together to help out.

“Kid forgot how to drink, I guess,” Yoongi mutters, but he’s smiling a little.

You realize belatedly that it’s Jungkook that’s being carried out, when he turns his head at Yoongi’s voice and his glassy eyes lock on yours.

He narrows them, scrunching his nose a bit and you’re struck yet again by how very cute he is.

“Mean,” he slurs, and despite the alcohol flowing through you, it’s a bit of an arrow through your heart.

You open your mouth, about to say that you’re not mean, thank you very much, but then he sighs and puts his chin on the elder man’s shoulder.

“Pretty, though.”

The younger two are laughing as they help Namjoon take Jungkook out to a car.

“They’re going to eat,” Yoongi explains as you stare out the door they left through. “You wanna go?”

You shake your head. “I better not. Have some work to finish up in the morning.”

It’s a lie, but your heart is racing in this weird way and you feel down all of a sudden.

Yoongi walks you back to your hotel, and you’re just about to invite him up when he leans over at the elevator to kiss your cheek. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You almost want to pout, but he’s turning away as the elevator door closes and he’s right, it’s for the best, with the mood you’re in.

You don’t like Jeon Jungkook. Not one bit, especially the fact that he had the ability to affect your mood so easily.

When you return to the tattoo parlor in two days, Yoongi is the only one there.

“You ready?” He asks easily, and you can’t help but frown. Maybe you don’t like Jungkook, but he started this tattoo, and if he was a professional as he so often reminded you, shouldn’t he finish it?

“Jungkook was supposed to finish the outline.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and hands you his phone. “You wanna call him and yell at him?”

You flush just slightly but then nod. Yoongi knows you’re not one to have someone else do your dirty work.

“Hyung, I know I’m late-” Jungkook answers.

“I’m waiting for you.” You blurt out, and there’s dead silence on the line. “Hello?”

“Ah, is this-this isn’t-” He stammers.

“You’re supposed to finish the outline. You’re a professional, remember?”

“I-I’m coming. I mean, I’m on my way.”

“You better be,” you mumble, and he makes a sound in the back of his throat.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You hand Yoongi back his phone and he’s shaking his head, smiling.

“What?” You ask, pouting.

“You’re gonna eat him alive.”

You can’t help the way your mouth turns up at one corner, even though you don’t answer.

Jungkook’s hands are absolutely not shaking because you’re in a chair with your shirt off, again, or because your very proximity makes him nervous. He’s probably still hungover from the other night.

While that might be true, the way you shiver when he puts a hand on your waist to steady your position, just like before, he draws in a sharp breath.

“What’s the matter, Jungkook?”

There’s something about the way you say his name that makes his hand tighten at your waist instinctively.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, turning on the tattoo gun, but this time you keep talking instead of being quiet while he works.

“You’re a professional.”

“Wh-what?” He pauses just before touching the needle to your skin.

“That’s what you always say. ‘I’m a professional, noona.’ What, I can’t tease you anymore?”

“N-no. You shouldn’t.” Jungkook huffs, and touches the pen to the outline where he’d left off earlier that week.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you dating hyung now?”

You snort out a laugh. “What? Yoongi?”

“Yeah, Yoongi,” Jungkook grumbles, and you don’t fail to notice how he drops the honorific.

You feel oddly giddy, as if it means anything that a guy you barely know is a little territorial.

“No, I’m not dating Yoongi. You think I should ask him out?”

“No!” Jungkook cries, his voice a little high pitched. He pauses tattooing only for a second to readjust before the buzzing starts, vibrating along your skin again. “I mean...whatever. If you want to.”

You twist your head slightly, being careful not to move your torso. He’s looking down at your back but the tips of his ears flush red.

“Are you jealous, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook shifts in his seat and pulls the needle off your skin again. You take a deep breath, it had begun to be a bit uncomfortable, so you’re grateful for the break.

“Kind of,” Jungkook admits, and you’re shocked. When he finally looks up at you, his eyes are wide and earnest.

You feel giddy all over again.

“Is that so?”

Jungkook’s hand tightens on your waist, sending a thrill through you that makes you jerk.

“Stay still, noona.” A pause before he cups your chin in his hand to turn your head toward the wall again. His voice seems lower, more confident, like when you’d first met. “Be professional.”

Your mouth goes dry and you manage to sit out the rest of the outline.

It’s only after you’ve applied the ointment you’d bought from Yoongi and put your shirt back on that he’ll look you in the face again.

“You told me I was pretty.” You blurt out.

Jungkook’s eyes widen further and he sticks his tongue out to wet his lips. You watch his mouth far too long.

“I-I didn’t,” He stutters, and you wonder if he always stutters when he’s nervous.

Just another thing to add to the list of things that Jungkook does that are almost unbearably cute, along with that nose scrunch. Not that you have a list in your head like that. Of course not. (You do.).

“The other night, at the bar. You said I was mean, but pretty.”

Jungkook frowns. “You are mean.”

You take a step closer to him, looking up at him from beneath your eyelashes. “And?”

“And what?” His voice gets softer as he looks down at you, as you slowly place your palms on his chest.

“Mean, but-”

“Pretty,” he breathes, chest rising beneath your palms and you can’t help yourself. You lean up and kiss the corner of his mouth, and when he doesn’t pull away, just making a choked sound in the back of his throat, you kiss the other corner.

You’d planned on just teasing him a little, but you find yourself swaying closer, just barely brushing your lips against his.

Jungkook takes in a deep breath through his nostrils and then dips his head to press his mouth harder against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips.

You moan into his mouth and press your nails into his chest and his hands go to your waist, just where he always steadies you before your tattooing sessions.

He makes this noise almost like a whine in the back of his throat and it spurs you on, makes you kiss him again, working your tongue against his and it’s messy and dirty and exactly how you like it.

You’ve always been a bit aggressive when you kiss and otherwise, so you can’t help threading your fingers through his long hair, tugging it gently to get him closer, and he breathes in through his nose and kisses you deeper, even hungrier, his hands steady on your hips, not roaming like you’ve had other guys do.

He’s the one that pulls away first and you make a disappointed sound, pouting. He doesn’t see it, though, burying his face against your neck.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, and he shakes his head against your skin so you put your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, tug him toward you and you press against him and you can feel him hard against your stomach.

He moans against the skin of your neck, kissing there open mouthed and you gasp, surprised.

“Are you shy, Jungkook-ah?” You croon, stroking his hair now instead of pulling it, and you just know that if you could see them the tips of his ears would be red.

“D-don’t be mean,” he stutters, and you can’t help but laugh.

“But Jungkook, I think you like it when I’m mean.”

He doesn’t respond but he lifts his head and yes, his ears are red and it delights you. He opens his mouth and then closes it again before nodding.

“Do you want to fuck me on Yoongi’s tattoo chair?” You ask nonchalantly, and Jungkook sputters.

“I-” He starts, and then stops again, taking another breath in through his nostrils to calm himself.

Fuck, he’s cute.

“Yes,” he finally finishes, as if he can’t manage more than a few words and the way he’s so worked up after only a kiss makes heat rush through you.

In the end, you have to push at his chest to get him to move, leading him to sit down on the chair so that you can straddle him, kissing along his collar bone, sucking and biting until his hips buck up beneath you.

His hands go to his belt, scrabbling at the buckle and you giggle softly and help him, palming him through his boxers after you release him from the confines of his jeans.

“God, fuck, Y/n,” he groans low in his chest and you’re sure your panties are soaked. His hands finally seem to be roaming like you’d expected, his fingers tracing the tattoo on your thigh.

You pull away only long enough to discard your shirt again and his eyes drop to your breasts immediately, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He’s already hard beneath your hand when you put his hand on your hip, sliding his fingers underneath.

“Rip them off,” you order, and Jungkook finally moves his eyes from your breasts to your face, hesitating.

You tilt your head. “Come on, you’re strong enough, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” he answers, chin jutting out as if he’s offended, and he rips them on either side, pulling them out from under you and looking down at your bare sex.

“Are you clean?” You ask, and he doesn’t answer, still staring down at you so you tug on his hair, harder than before and he whines, looking up at you with those big eyes.

“Wh-what?”

“Are you clean?” You ask, more harshly. “Are you so eager to fuck me that you can’t even answer a question?”

“F-fuck.” He pauses as if struggling to think. “Yeah, clean. I’m clean.”

You tug his hair again. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Jungkook?”

His mouth is parted, gaze a bit glassy when he looks at you, shaking his head.

“No, noona. Wouldn’t lie.”

You favor him with a smile and he smiles back, bunny teeth showing just a bit.

“Good. Now be a good boy and stay still.”

Jungkook’s thighs tremble where you’ve pulled his jeans down but he stays still, just staring at you.

He makes a distressed noise when you slide off him, but then his eyes widen when you get on your knees, put your hands on his thighs.

“I’m going to suck you off, but you’re not allowed to cum. Got that?”

Jungkook nods dumbly but when you tug his boxers down and circle his cock with your fingers, he closes his mouth, makes a muffled moan and God, he’s so hot, you haven’t been with anyone in so long and definitely no one this...well, pliable.

He’s bigger than you would have thought, although not overly so, mostly his dick is just pretty, just like his face. You flatten your tongue against the seam of his balls first, working your way up until you take the head into your mouth, tasting precum on your tongue.

“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, and his thighs flex under your hands and you squeeze and his hips buck, just a little, but enough to make you gag.

“Oh no,” he gasps, sounding distressed. “N-noona, I’m sorry.”

Instead of responding you hum around him, taking him deeper and then sliding up, making a vacuum of your mouth.

Jungkook is breathing hard at first but then starts to hold his breath, going stiff, but you keep bobbing your head until he shifts to take your face in his hands.

“Noona, please, I’m gonna-”

You come off him and he gasps in a breath as if he’s relieved but you don’t give him time to recover, just bunch your skirt around your hips and straddle him again, this time guiding his dick so that it slides through your slick, working the head of it against your clit and watching his face.

His eyes are open and wide, mouth parted, face flushed a pretty rose.

You knew he’d look so pretty like this, and he does and you can’t help but say it.

“So pretty,” you murmur, feeling hot all over, as if you might cum just from the way his dick feels against you and how he’s looking at you.

“Pl-please,” he pleads in a choked whisper and when he screws his eyes shut you shift your hips to guide him inside of you and then grab his chin in your hand to part his mouth further, kissing him hard and sloppy.

While he’s distracted you shift to guide him inside you, sliding down on his length slowly as he gasps into your mouth, his hips twitching beneath you but not bucking like you’d expected.

“Good,” you murmur, nipping at his bottom lip, and his hands tighten at your hips.

“Noona,” he whispers, cheeks flushed, big eyes looking up at you as if embarrassed.

“Hmm?” You rock your hips forward and he makes a strangled noise and locks his hands tighter on your hips.

“I um, I’m g-gonna-”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his stutter, his adorable face. All these muscles and a big dick and still such a baby.

“Gonna blow, baby?” You rock forward and back again, ignoring the sting of his thumbs at your hip bones.

“Ah-don’t-”

He looks so distressed that you stop, frowning a little.

“You’re okay, Jungkook? You want me to stop?”

“No!” He bursts out in a gasp and it makes you giggle. You’re a little lightheaded from how close you are to an orgasm. “No, no, I don’t want you to stop. I just don’t want to-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, leaning to kiss along his jawline before biting down at his throat. “You can cum, I don’t mind.”

“B-but-”

“I think it’s sexy, how you’ve barely gotten inside me and you’re already close to bursting. You like my cunt, Jungkook-ah?”

“God,” he whimpers, throwing his head back. “Yes. Yes, noona, I love it.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” you mumble against his skin, your hips starting to move again as he heaves in deep breaths. “You can cum inside me, but then you have to clean me up.”

“Ah,” he sighs as if relieved. “Of course, I-”

You lift your head to look at him as you swivel your hips in a wider circle, making his cock pull almost out of you before sliding back in.

“With your tongue.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, pupils blown as he looks at you and then down at your breasts bouncing as you pick up the pace. “Fuck, you are mean.”

You give him a fake pout.

“It’s just what’s fair, Jungkook. You make a mess, you clean it up. If you don’t want to, I could stop, take care of things myself-”

Jungkook shakes his head fervently. “No, please, fuck, don’t stop.”

If he lasts just a few moments more, you’re sure you could reach your orgasm too but the way he looks he’s too far gone, mouth slack, his hands now bouncing you on top of him and he cries out before you get there. You can feel him pulsing inside you and you moan, not at all disappointed but a little frustrated.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m s-sorry,” he manages, and you find his stutter so cute you can barely stand it, can’t help yourself from breaking your mean girl character to kiss him.

You wait until his breathing regulates before sliding off of him, standing on shaky legs. It has been a while since you’ve done this.

Jungkook stares at you dumbly, mouth still open, until you nudge him with your foot.

“C’mon, we’ve only got a while before Yoongi comes back.”

Jungkook stands abruptly, movements a bit delayed as he zips up his jeans with a wince.

“Oh, shit, hyung will be back, I should-”

You narrow your eyes at him. “We had a deal.”

Jungkook swallows. “Uh, yeah, I remember.”

You sit down on the chair again, this time planting your feet on either side of you, scooting down to the edge a bit ungracefully, but it’ll do.

He freezes for a moment, looking back at the door, but it’s locked for your privacy since you had to remove your shirt for the session.

“Jungkook,” you whine, exasperated, your skin feeling tight and hot.

He finally turns back toward you, looking down at your exposed pussy and licks his lips before kneeling in front of you.

He doesn’t put his mouth on you right away, instead kissing along your thighs, sliding a finger inside you to push his cum back inside you and you hit your head against the chair back a little hard when you throw your head back.

“Fuck.”

Maybe you’re in more trouble than you realized.

Jungkook can’t deny that he’s somewhat...nervous about all of this. Up to this point, he’d been convinced you either didn’t like him or were completely uninterested in him.

It isn’t as if he isn’t experienced, but he’s never done this, exactly, although in most of his relationships his partner “took the reins” quite often, this is different.

He feels ashamed in the most delicious way, and he thinks maybe Yoongi is right about his penchant for mean girls, after all.

Jungkook had tasted his own cum, of course, doesn’t everyone get curious? But something about eating it out of you makes him feel even more ashamed, his face hot as he slides his fingers inside you.

You seem to like what he’s doing, your hips rolling to get him deeper, but after only a few moments you huff out a breath and say his name in that scolding way you have that makes his cock twitch in his jeans all over again.

“Jungkook.”

He lifts his head from where he’d been planting open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and blinks at you.

“You’re supposed to be cleaning me up, not making a bigger mess.”

Jungkook groans, his face feeling flushed and tingly.

“S-sorry,” he manages, and lowers his head again to suck onto your clit.

You hiss and put your hands in his hair, not pulling like you had before pressing his face more deeply into you so that he has to breathe through his mouth.

You’re slick with your own pleasure and his cum and it’s messy and sloppy and he didn’t know he was into that but his body is certainly reacting, he’s half hard again already like a horny teenager.

After your thighs start trembling around his head and you let loose of his hair, he slips his tongue lower, tasting himself salty along with your taste, moaning against you, his nose slipping against your clit and you’re cursing and roling your hips and he’s almost dizzy.

He does clean you up, does just like you ask even after you’re pulsing around his tongue and fingers and whimpering.

When he finally lifts his head he knows his face must be covered, but you wrap your legs around him and sit up to kiss him roughly.

Something strange starts happening to his heart, a skip and an ache, when he wonders if all of this was just physical, and why should it matter anyway?

He asks, anyway, when you pull away smiling.

“N-noona. Do you...do you even like me?”

You tilt your head as if considering, but you’re still smiling.

“Maybe.”

“I’m serious.” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from you and gathering your discarded clothes.

You laugh but it doesn’t seem to be at him, exactly, and that’s a relief.

He’s busying himself folding your clothes when you touch his hand.

“Jungkook. I like you.”

He frowns, disbelieving. “Then why are you so mean to me?”

You smile and then hide your face for a second before peeking at him between your fingers.

It’s cute. You’re cute and he kind of hates how it makes his heart skip again.

“Don’t you like it when I’m mean, Jungkook-ah?”

Fuck. You’ve got him there.

“Not...not all the time.” He protests.

You nod slowly. “Okay. So I won’t always be mean. I can be pretty nice when I want to be.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you and you laugh, sit up still half naked, breasts bared and unashamed, and pull him to you by his belt loops.

“Want me to show you?”

You’ve got his jeans unzipped and your hand down them when there’s a banging on the door.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” Yoongi yells.

Jungkook groans loudly and you giggle before gingerly zipping his pants back up over a very obvious erection.

You slide your clothes back on and slip on your shoes before opening the door unceremoniously.

Jungkook yelps and turns around, face flushed and embarrassed, tugging down his too small shirt to hide it.

“Oh,” Yoongi says, taking in the scene.

Jungkook cannot look at him, he’s humiliated and not because he’s been caught, with a group of friends like theirs he’d walked in on worse, but because Yoongi was right, goddamnit.

Jungkook does have a thing for mean girls. One in particular, and he can't help but laugh when you ask him if he's gonna be professional on your first date.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jjk smut #bts imagines #noonasinnetwork #btswritersclub

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