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jeon-s-sins · 2 months ago

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Fighter — Four

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. You will discover the rest as you read, and there will be no spoilers. 😉

Word count: 7.1 k

Chapter song: Bumpy Ride by Mohombi

n/a: English is not my first language, so I may have missed some mistakes while proofreading. 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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Spring was timidly announcing its return, gradually erasing the traces of winter. The days were slowly getting longer, and the golden twilight light warmed the still-chilly streets. The trees, which had lost their leaves months ago, were now adorned with delicate young buds, promising new blooms. Outside your home, the cherry trees, though not bearing fruit, blossomed majestically, spreading a soft fragrance in the fresh air. Under the gentle breeze, the subtle scent of the flowers filled the atmosphere, creating an almost idyllic, soothing scene, as if nature itself was whispering that everything would be alright.

Since moving into this new neighborhood, you had established a little routine. Every evening, you would climb up to the roof of your building, which you had carefully set up as a real sanctuary. A place where you would retreat with your beer cans, your music, your phone, and of course, your journal. It was your space of peace, a place where you could jot down your thoughts on paper without worrying about the rest of the world. Yet lately, one name kept appearing in your writings: Jungkook.

Ever since your kiss two weeks ago, you hadn’t been able to forget him. His lips against yours, that burning and fleeting contact, that moment suspended in time. But after that gesture, there had been nothing. No call, no message, nothing. Why did he kiss you that night? And why the silence since? These questions kept swirling in your mind. Every day, you secretly hoped he would show up at your door, unexpectedly, like in those silly romantic movies where the hero comes to confess his feelings. But things like that never happen in real life, do they?

A sigh escaped your lips. You were surprised at yourself for being so frustrated by his silence. After all, he was nothing to you, just a stranger you had met under unexpected circumstances. Yet the thought that he might be ignoring that shared moment drove you crazy. He could have at least been mature and clarified things. But no. He had chosen to disappear into the shadows, leaving you with doubts and questions.

“If he prefers to play childish games and avoid reality, that’s his problem,” you told yourself, scribbling mindlessly in your journal. After all, you had no intention of chasing after him. You had your pride, and if he couldn’t see the value in what you had shared, then too bad for him.

The evening seemed to be following the same course as the previous ones. You, on the roof, pen in hand, lost in your thoughts, letting the music soothe you. Then something caught your attention. Down below, a familiar car pulled up: Jungkook’s black Mercedes Benz. Normally, that kind of detail wouldn’t have stood out to you. But tonight, he wasn’t alone.

A woman got out of the passenger side. You couldn’t immediately make out her face, but her fiery red hair immediately caught your eye. It framed a delicate face that you could only partially see from this distance. She was tall, slender, almost as tall as Jungkook, whereas you were much smaller in comparison. Her graceful silhouette and elegant clothes set her apart from the other women in the neighborhood. She had that sophisticated look, almost out of place in this modest part of the city, like a bright star in a sky too dull for her.

Your heart clenched slightly. Who was she? You got lost in endless speculations. Had they been together for a long time? Why had you never seen her before? As you watched them, they quickly passed through Jungkook’s apartment door, out of your direct line of sight. But you could see them through the windows, in the living room. As soon as they entered, the redhead threw herself on him, her actions leaving no room for doubt. It was clear they hadn’t met up to talk over coffee.

Meanwhile, Jungkook felt trapped. He didn’t really know this girl, Sony. They had met during a university outing organized by their graphic design professor just a week ago. Although he found her attractive, she was nothing more than a distraction. A distraction from you.

Ever since that kiss you shared, you had haunted him. Day and night. Whether he was in class, training, or even during his morning jogs, you were always there, present in his mind. That simple thought drove him insane. He tried to escape you, to erase you from his memory, but nothing worked. Every memory of your time together replayed over and over, like a poison he couldn’t expel. Even in his dreams, you were there. He dreamed of that kiss, of that unfinished passion, but in his dreams, things went much further. What you hadn’t completed that night, his mind kept prolonging, imagining you in embraces neither of you had dared to share. And every morning, the frustration only grew.

He had promised himself not to give in, not to succumb to the insidious desire to see you again. But he failed, a little more every day. That night, when he came home after your kiss, he cursed himself for ending that magical moment. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. You weren’t in a clear state of mind, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. Still, that rational decision only fueled the fire burning inside him. He wanted you. You were the only remedy for his unease, the only person who could soothe him. But that was precisely why he forbade himself from giving in to you.

Sony was just an escape. A desperate attempt to flee from the obsession he had for you. But as she pressed against him, her lips seeking his, his mind kept drifting back to you. It was you he wanted. Not her. You, with your smiles, your strength, and your vulnerabilities. And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Meanwhile, from your perch, you watched the scene, helpless. A dull pain filled your heart as you observed Jungkook with this other woman. Every gesture, every caress exchanged between them felt like a dagger. Why did it affect you so much? You were nothing to each other, and yet, you felt betrayed, as if something precious had been taken from you.

But soon, you found yourself feeling a certain smug satisfaction. When the redhead, visibly frustrated, slapped Jungkook, you couldn’t help but laugh. Whatever he had done, he deserved it. And in a way, it eased your pain. Seeing him in this situation gave you a strange sense of revenge, even if you had no right to feel that way.

The door to Jungkook’s apartment slammed shut behind Sony, echoing through the quiet street. She stormed out, visibly furious. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she quickly walked away, head held high, but her movements betrayed a palpable frustration. Her lips were tightly pressed, her piercing gaze fixed straight ahead—everything about her screamed that she considered the evening a waste of time. A ruined night, no doubt.

You, still perched on the rooftop of your building, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. Your eyes followed Sony until she disappeared around the corner. Something inside you burned with curiosity. Why had she slapped him so hard? What could have possibly happened between them to trigger such a reaction? But you knew all too well that it was a question without an answer, a mystery you would probably never solve.

Your gaze then shifted back to Jungkook, still visibly stunned. He was quickly getting dressed, as if trying to erase any trace of what had just happened. His movements were swift, almost mechanical, but his face displayed a confused expression. Seeing him like this evoked contradictory feelings in you. You were amused, but also troubled by not understanding what had really taken place.

You watched him closely as he opened the window, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. A familiar gesture, almost routine. He took one out, lit it with a sharp flick, and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs. The cigarette, despite its obvious dangers, seemed to be his refuge, his way of releasing the pressure, especially after days like this. You could almost see the tension leaving his body with every puff.

Then, just like every evening, his gaze fell on you. He wasn’t really surprised to see you there, in your usual spot, sitting on the rooftop railing, headphones in your ears, one hand holding your phone to capture the sunset. It had become a sort of ritual between the two of you, even if neither of you acknowledged it. Every evening, you were there, faithful to your routine, immortalizing the same moment, at the same time, as if that precise moment held a significance only you could understand.

Every time he saw you like that, a wave of questions washed over him. Why this obsession with sunsets? What are you trying to capture with such devotion? And most of all, what do you write in that notebook that you never leave behind? But tonight, he noticed something different. Unlike usual, your focus wasn’t on the scenery or your journal. Your eyes were locked on him.

You had seen him notice you, but instead of looking away, you burst out laughing. An uncontrollable, almost hysterical laugh that echoed in the stillness of the evening. The scene you had just witnessed—Sony slapping him and storming out of his apartment—kept replaying in your mind, making you laugh again. Every attempt to catch your breath failed, and your laughter started up once more. And now that he was watching you from his window, it only made the situation even more hilarious.

Jungkook, a bit perplexed by your reaction, pulled his phone from the back pocket of his pants. Without thinking, he searched for your name in his contacts and pressed “Call.” When you saw the name “Quasimodo” flash on your screen—a nickname you had given him in a moment of mockery—you couldn’t help but smile even wider.

You answered the call, your laughter barely subsiding.

“So, you’re spying on me now, princess?” Jungkook teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice laced with mischief.

“So, you’re a bad lay?” you shot back, playing along, bursting into laughter.

Jungkook grinned, trying to defend his ego. “More like I was too good for her.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep tonight, champ,” you retorted, laughing again, the image of the slap playing on repeat in your mind.

He didn’t reply right away, just watching you with an amused glint in his eyes, listening to the sound of your laughter—a melody that, despite himself, got to him. That laugh, he thought, made you even more beautiful. The more he watched you, the more captivated he felt by your charm, a feeling he would have preferred to avoid. But soon, your laughter faded, leaving a more serious expression on your face, a veil of irony making you furrow your brows.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your phone or my number,” you quipped, catching your breath.

“What, you’re saying you missed me?” he replied, his mocking tone poorly masking a deeper interest.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Quasimodo, but that’s not the case.” A lie, of course. You simply couldn’t afford to tell him the truth. Not to him, not now. That would be insane.

In your mind, Jungkook was still just like any other man. He probably saw women as fleeting distractions, temporary conquests to satisfy his desires. His date with the redhead earlier in the evening only confirmed that theory. You were determined not to become just another passing chapter in his life. You refused to be just another girl he’d use and then forget as soon as she was gone.

Anger bubbled inside you, a burning fire behind your calm exterior. You clenched your fists, rekindling an inner resolve. There was no way you’d let yourself be trapped by his devastating charm, as tempting as it was. You were worth more than that. You kept repeating it to yourself, as if trying to convince yourself. No matter the temptation or confusion, you refused to lose control. Your heart was at stake, and you weren’t ready to let it fall into his hands.

“You’re the one lying to yourself, gorgeous,” he said teasingly. “I’m sure you can’t stop thinking about our kiss.” His words were like a blade, stirring up a truth you weren’t ready to face.

“Don’t worry, babe, I have that effect on women all the time.” His tone was arrogant, almost proud of that confession. Bastard. He was proud of it?

Your blood boiled. His words were enough to make you lose your cool. You slammed your journal and printer onto the railing with a sharp motion, standing up to your full height. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and get under your skin.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with you,” you spat before hanging up on him.

In ten minutes, Jungkook had just been rejected by two women.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath, still holding the phone in his hand. A part of him wanted to dial your number again, to call you back and try to clear things up. But he knew you wouldn’t pick up. Making excuses wouldn’t fix anything, and deep down, he knew that.

After all, what was the point? He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Certainly not to you. Yet, despite himself, you occupied his thoughts in an obsessive way. Even from a distance, without realizing it, you were taking over his mind. He had to get you out of there. It wasn’t an option anymore—it was a necessity. Jungkook had never imagined that the only way to forget you would be to lose himself in the arms of other women. It was a path he hadn’t thought he’d explore so easily.

Despite his bad-boy image, Jungkook wasn’t really that kind of guy. The idea of spending every night with one-night stands didn’t appeal to him, but these past few days, he couldn’t see any other solution. Where else could he find what he was looking for if not at the Den? A place where emotions drowned in alcohol, sweat, and fleeting pleasures.

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let the night get to him. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook headed for the shower. Cold water slid over his skin, washing away the heat of his accumulated frustration. Once ready, he threw on dark jeans and an open shirt over a t-shirt before leaving his apartment.

Tonight, he’d go back to where everything seemed simpler. Where he could lose himself and, with a bit of luck, forget you for a few hours. He headed for the Den, the only place in the neighborhood that mixed illegality with a brutal, almost liberating freedom. And at this hour, he knew you probably wouldn’t be there, which made things easier.

A few hours had passed, and it seemed you had the same idea as your neighbor across the street: to clear your mind. It had been about thirty minutes since you arrived at the Den’s bar, a drink in hand, as if holding onto that glass could help you push away the turmoil stirring inside you.

You had come here with one goal in mind: to erase from your memory the scene that kept playing over and over, consuming you from the inside. The only way to do that was to bury it under layers of forgetfulness, even if only temporary. The noisy atmosphere of the bar was perhaps exactly what you needed.

During your work hours at the Den, you had noticed that, on nights without fights, the place turned into a sort of makeshift nightclub. The fighting cage was disassembled and stored away, leaving more room for dancers, and the bar quickly filled up. Tonight was one of those nights.

You weren’t working tonight. You had earned two well-deserved days off, but that didn’t stop you from lending a hand to your coworkers when the bar got overcrowded. It wasn’t a chore for you; in fact, you could take advantage of it to refill your own drink.

Besides Minjun, Sohan, and Jungkook, you didn’t know anyone else in this neighborhood. Yet, despite your short time at this place, Minjun and Sohan had become protective of you. It was reassuring, almost comforting, as if you had finally found the big brothers you never had. For the first time, you were experiencing what it felt like to have people who genuinely cared about you.

“Don’t wander off too far,” Sohan called out as you left the bar to blend into the crowd of dancers.

“We want to keep an eye on you. There are plenty of crazies here,” Minjun added. “And always watch your drink!” he shouted over the noise of the music.

In response, you flashed them a smile and gave them a thumbs-up. Then, the melody of “Bumpy Ride” by Mohombi filled the room, taking you back to a time when everything was simpler, lighter.

You remembered those afternoons in high school when, even though you didn’t like sports, you found refuge in dance, a passion that had been born during your stay at the orphanage. Dancing had always set you free, and tonight, you let yourself be carried away by the music.

Ignoring your coworkers’ advice, you made your way to the speakers, letting the bass thrum through your body. Nostalgia mixed with excitement as memories of a school dance competition, won to the sound of this very song, resurfaced.

Meanwhile, Minjun was watching the crowd intently, looking for you. Unsurprisingly, you hadn’t followed his recommendations. He wasn’t even surprised.

“Jungkook, man. What are you doing here?” Sohan was the first to notice your neighbor, sitting at his usual spot at the bar.

“I need to clear my head,” Jungkook replied, not inclined to give details.

“Tough day?” Minjun asked, joining the conversation now that the line had thinned out.

“You could say that,” Jungkook answered in a weary tone.

“So, what’ll it be?” Sohan asked, ready to serve his regular customer.

“The usual.” Jungkook was counting on a glass of whiskey to try and push you out of his mind, or at least to gather the courage to face a night that wouldn’t end alone.

“Coming right up.” Sohan started preparing Jungkook’s drink while Minjun scanned the crowd, searching for you.

“You good, man?” Jungkook asked, noticing Minjun’s concern.

“No, she’s acting up again,” Minjun muttered, more to himself than to his friend, but nothing escaped Jungkook.

“Who are you talking about?” Sohan inquired, setting Jungkook’s drink in front of him.

“She didn’t listen to us, man. As usual, she’s doing whatever she wants,” Minjun sighed.

Jungkook frowned, confused. Who were they talking about? Minjun would never let his sisters come to a place like the Den, and as far as Jungkook knew, there was no other woman in his life. So who could it be?

Sohan spotted something in the crowd and muttered, “Damn it… Don’t move, I’ll go get her.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.

Jungkook, still curious, didn’t wait any longer. “Who are you talking about?” he finally asked Minjun.

He wasn’t expecting the answer he received: your name. The very person he had hoped to forget for the night had reappeared, inevitably.

You were everywhere, even in the place where he had hoped to escape you.

You kept dancing, letting the music pulse through your entire body. The DJ that night was doing an incredible job, mixing recent hits with 2000s classics that got everyone moving. Rihanna, Beyoncé, Cascada, The Black Eyed Peas, The Pussycat Dolls… each track seemed better than the last, and you let yourself completely lose yourself in the rhythm.

You had even found a dance partner. Not that it was a particularly enlightened or well-thought-out decision, but you only knew him from the fights. After all, you came here to clear your head, and if the night ended in a one-night stand, why not with him? Maybe that would finally help you get Jungkook out of your thoughts.

Your dance partner was none other than Shin Jung-Ho, aka “Bazooka,” Jungkook’s sworn rival, aka “Bullet Fists.” And honestly, the guy wasn’t unpleasant to look at. Jung-Ho stood at 1.78 meters, and his imposing build immediately drew attention. His body, sculpted by years of physical training, spoke of his strength and toughness. His pale skin contrasted with his jet-black hair, cut short, and his dark eyes, almost hypnotic. But what caught your eye the most was the linear scar running across his left eye, a remnant of a past battle… and not just any battle. It came from a fight against Jungkook. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

“So, how about we get out of here? My place is just around the corner,” Jung-Ho murmured, his face dangerously close to yours. His lips were on the verge of finding yours, and you were ready to let the kiss happen, maybe just to defy yourself.

You nodded, ready to follow his invitation, but the moment was short-lived. Out of nowhere, Sohan appeared through the crowd, visibly furious. He shoved Jung-Ho away from you before grabbing your hand tightly, positioning himself between the two of you like a shield.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” he growled, his dark gaze locked on Jung-Ho. You had never seen Sohan in such a state, not even with the worst customers at the bar.

Jung-Ho smirked, taunting. “That’s not for you to decide, buddy. She seemed pretty on board with me, right, babe?” He looked at you, waiting for your confirmation.

“Yeah,” you replied almost mechanically, which only made Jung-Ho smile wider.

Sohan’s grip on your hand tightened, almost to the point of hurting. “Shut up, YN,” he said coldly, his voice barely restrained.

You were on the verge of protesting, shocked by the way he spoke to you, but he cut you off with a look so intense it immediately dissuaded you from arguing. Then he turned his attention back to Jung-Ho.

“Listen to me, man,” Sohan said, emphasizing each word. “You’re not getting near her again, got it?”

Without waiting for a response, Sohan turned around, dragging you behind him through the crowd, his hand still firmly gripping yours, leaving you no chance to protest or look back.

You were furious, perplexed, and slightly amused by how things had unfolded. Sohan, usually so calm and protective, had just shown a side of himself you had never seen before. The walk back to the bar felt endless, and while your hand remained firmly held in his, you couldn’t help but wonder what had triggered such a reaction in him.

Sohan dragged you firmly to the bar, where Minjun and Jungkook were deep in conversation, Jungkook’s gaze dark and intense. You hadn’t even noticed Jungkook’s presence, too focused on Sohan’s grip and your own frustration at being pulled along like a misbehaving child.

Once at the counter, Sohan practically forced you to sit on one of the tall chairs, right next to Jungkook. The cold touch of the wood against your bare skin made you shiver, and it was only then that you noticed your neighbor, sitting right beside you. His gaze was intense, fixed on you, but he said nothing. Yet, you could feel the palpable tension in the air.

Before you could protest, Sohan stood in front of you, arms crossed, looking furious.

“What the hell were you thinking, YN?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Dancing with Jung-Ho? And worse, you were ready to leave with him! Have you lost your mind?”

Minjun, who had turned toward you after hearing those words, also frowned. “Wait, what?” Minjun was shocked to hear what his friend just said. And like him, he wasn’t pleased at all. He knew very well that, like the rest of them, you were aware of the type of man Jung-Ho was. Since you’d been working at the Den, you had witnessed firsthand the harm he caused with women on numerous occasions.

“Sohan’s right, YN. Jung-Ho is not someone you should be hanging out with, let alone going anywhere with. You know exactly what kind of guy he is. That was stupid, really.”

Minjun’s scolding tone, combined with Sohan’s exasperation, made you feel like a child being chastised. Shame washed over you for a moment, but it didn’t seem fair. You were perfectly capable of making your own decisions, whether good or bad.

But what surprised you the most was Jungkook’s reaction. He remained silent, but you could almost see his fists clenching, his jaw tightening. Something in his demeanor had shifted. He said nothing, but his silence was deafening, and his gaze, more piercing than ever, seemed to betray something deeper: jealousy.

Before you could respond, a deep, arrogant voice sounded behind you.

“Oh, I see you’re getting scolded like a little kid, YN,” Jung-Ho said as he approached the bar, a smug grin on his lips. He spoke directly to you, ignoring the others. “You’re really going to let them control you like that? It’s your life, right? If you wanted to leave with me, that was your choice. No need for a bunch of wannabe big brothers to tell you what to do.”

Jung-Ho’s provocative tone instantly put everyone on edge. Sohan stood up straighter, ready to respond, but before he could open his mouth, it was Jungkook who suddenly rose from his seat, his dark eyes burning with cold anger.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Jung-Ho,” Jungkook said in a dangerously low voice. “YN doesn’t need your advice. She knows exactly what’s good for her, and leaving with a jerk like you isn’t part of it.”

Jung-Ho chuckled, unphased by the threat. He took a step closer, locking eyes with Jungkook.

“Oh really, Jungkook? Because all I see is a guy who can’t even admit he’s dying of jealousy. Stop pretending—it’s not about her, it’s about you.”

That was the last straw for Jungkook. In a split second, his fist flew toward Jung-Ho, landing a controlled but violent punch to his jaw. The room seemed to freeze for a moment before Jung-Ho retaliated, shoving Jungkook backward and throwing a punch of his own.

The fight erupted in brutal force. The two men exchanged blows with palpable precision and rage, forcing the customers around them to step back. The bar quickly turned into a battleground.

Sohan and Minjun tried to intervene, but the strength and speed of both fighters made it difficult to break up the fight. Jung-Ho, clearly drunk on rage, wasn’t ready to back down. But Jungkook, fueled by a jealousy he refused to admit, fought with cold determination, his entire body tense with every movement.

“Stop!” you screamed, your voice lost in the chaos of the brawl. But neither Jungkook nor Jung-Ho seemed to hear you, too focused on their relentless struggle.

As Jung-Ho tried to pin Jungkook against the counter, Jungkook broke free with surprising agility, delivering a powerful punch to Jung-Ho’s gut. Jung-Ho collapsed momentarily from the blow, struggling to catch his breath.

Before things could escalate further, Sohan and Minjun managed to separate the two men, holding Jungkook back while Jung-Ho, still winded, tried to regain his composure.

Silence finally fell over the bar, and all eyes turned to you. Jungkook, breathing heavily, looked at you, his eyes still blazing with anger. A silent question seemed to hang in the air: “Why him?”

As for Jung-Ho, his smug smile had vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain and frustration.

The tension was thick, and you knew what had just happened would have consequences.

The Den’s security guards, alerted by the growing noise of the fight, quickly approached. Two of them grabbed Jung-Ho, still groggy from Jungkook’s last punch, and dragged him roughly out of the bar. Jung-Ho, though clearly still in shock, tried to struggle, throwing one last dark glance in Jungkook’s direction before disappearing into the agitated crowd.

“Alright, calm down now,” Sohan growled, stepping between you and Jungkook, while Minjun approached, trying to contain the palpable tension in the air. “YN, we agreed you’d keep a low profile tonight. What the hell were you thinking, dancing with that idiot?”

You threw your hands up in frustration, nerves on edge. “Stop telling me what to do, Sohan! I don’t need to be treated like a kid. If I want to dance with whoever I want, it’s my choice.”

Sohan frowned, but before he could reply, it was Jungkook who cut in, his voice sharp.

“Dancing with him?” he spat. “You were this close to leaving with that guy, YN. Do you even realize how stupid that was? Or are you just blind?”

You turned toward him, your eyes blazing. “So what? Why do you even care, Jungkook? Since when do you give a damn about what I do or who I leave with?”

“Since you can’t seem to see the real assholes in front of you,” Jungkook shot back, raising his voice, stepping closer to you, his fists still clenched. “Jung-Ho is trash. He doesn’t respect you. You’re just a game to him, YN. And it makes me sick that you don’t even see it.”

Jungkook’s words were filled with jealousy, and something inside you flared even hotter.

“Oh, and you’re any better?” you retorted, your voice vibrating with anger. “You show up here after bringing that redhead to your place, and now you come here to lecture me?”

Jungkook flinched at the mention of the previous night, but he didn’t respond right away. You continued, your eyes glistening with rage.

“You’re no different from Jung-Ho. You both play with women, treat them like toys. So stop being a hypocrite—it’s pathetic!”

Minjun tried to step between you, raising his hands to de-escalate the situation. “Okay, enough, stop. We don’t need this here. Let’s all take a step back, calm down…”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his gaze still locked on you. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m like them? She thinks all of this is just a game for me?”

“Maybe because you never show anything!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. “You kiss me, leave me with all these questions, and then nothing! Nothing! And now you come here and tell me what to do? Are you kidding me?”

Sohan, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Bro, let it go, this is gonna get ugly…”

But it was too late. Jungkook’s frustration was overflowing, his eyes burning with something deeper than simple anger.

“You want to know why I’m like this, YN?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice low, almost a growl. “You really want to know? Because you drive me insane.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say another word, Jungkook closed the distance between you in a split second. His hands gripped your face tightly, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours in a brutal kiss, filled with passion, frustration, and a kind of desperate intensity.

The shock left you frozen for a moment, but soon, you felt that familiar warmth, that fire that consumed you both. His lips were hard against yours, his hands still firmly on your face, as if he feared you’d slip away. Every movement of his mouth against yours was laced with urgency, anger, and an uncontrollable desire.

Minjun and Sohan exchanged bewildered glances, but neither of them dared intervene this time. The tension between you and Jungkook had reached a breaking point.

When Jungkook finally pulled his lips from yours, he stayed just inches away, his breath ragged, his eyes still blazing with that intensity you had never seen in him before.

Stunned by the sudden kiss, you remained motionless, your thoughts swirling in a silent chaos. The world around you seemed to have stopped, the intensity of the moment rooting you in place. You could still feel the pressure of his lips on yours—brutal and desperate. But it was the shocked looks of Sohan and Minjun, frozen in surprise, that brought you back to reality. The burn of embarrassment rose within you, mixing with a fury that made your heart pound in your chest.

Without thinking, your hand flew up and slapped Jungkook across the face in an instinctive reaction. The sound of the slap echoed in the tense air of the Den.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Jungkook!” you shouted, your voice trembling with anger and confusion. Without giving him a chance to respond, you spun around and stormed toward the exit, your footsteps pounding the floor as you fled the scene.

The cool night air wrapped around you immediately, but it did little to extinguish the fire burning inside you. Breathing hard, you walked quickly, your mind swirling with humiliation, confusion, and the strange feeling left behind by that stolen kiss.

“YN, wait!” Jungkook’s voice chased after you in the night, his hurried footsteps echoing behind you.

You quickened your pace, but he caught up to you quickly, grabbing your arm to stop you. You yanked your arm free from his grip, your eyes blazing with anger as they met his.

“Let go of me, Jungkook!” you hissed, breathless. “You think you can just get away with that? After everything that happened tonight?”

Jungkook, still panting from the chase, shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and regret. “YN, that’s not… I didn’t think… but you don’t understand! You drive me crazy!”

“Crazy? I drive you crazy?” you shot back, your anger flaring up again. “And that gives you the right to kiss me like you own me? Who do you think you are?”

The empty street was the silent witness to this confrontation, the night wind gently rustling the leaves of the trees as your voices echoed in the air.

“No, it’s not that,” he tried to explain, his eyes searching yours. “You don’t understand, YN. I’m on the verge of losing it. Knowing you danced with Jung-Ho, knowing you even considered leaving with him… You have no idea what that does to me.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about now?” you spat bitterly. “You think you have some claim over me? You think you can tell me who I can or can’t dance with? Look at yourself! You bring girls home and then come here to tell me what I should do? What a joke, Jungkook. You’re pathetic.”

His jaw clenched at the provocation, but he remained silent for a moment, clearly trying to control the storm raging inside him. “Okay, correction, it wasn’t ‘girls,’ just the redhead,” he tried to justify, but for you, it was just a detail. Deep down, it didn’t change anything. “And it’s not the same, YN. I know I screwed up, but what I feel for you… what I feel is real.”

Your gaze hardened. “Oh yeah? Because what you feel is ‘real,’ I should forgive you, is that it? Jungkook, you have no idea what you want. One minute you kiss me, the next you ignore me. You leave me hanging, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do or feel. You’re playing with me, and I’ve had enough.”

Silence fell between you, broken only by your quickened breaths. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to say something, but his words got lost in the flood of emotions boiling inside him.

“YN, I… I know I’ve complicated everything. But I… I don’t want to lose you, without ever even having had you,” he finally murmured, his voice broken.

You shook your head, your heart heavy with confusion. “And yet, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Turning on your heel, you started walking toward your apartments, Jungkook trailing behind you. The dark night felt oppressive, and despite the calm outside, the emotional storm raging within you was overwhelming.

“What do you want me to do, YN? Let you leave with a guy like Jung-Ho? Pretend I don’t care about you, despite myself and all my efforts?” he exclaimed, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“What I want, Jungkook, is for you to stop playing this back-and-forth game. If you want something, be clear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t kiss me just to prove something to yourself, and don’t act like I’m just another option in your life.”

He stopped, realizing the gravity of your words, the weight of what you were saying. And suddenly, in the silence of the street, it was as if the world around you both was collapsing.

You gave him one last look, your heart heavy. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.”

Then, without another word, you turned the corner and walked away, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, his gaze lost in the starry night.

Jungkook stands frozen, rooted to the spot as you turn the corner, disappearing into the night. His fists clench, and his mind races, battling both the frustration and the weight of his own mistakes. He wanted to run after you, to catch up with you, but he felt like his words would only make things worse.

He remains there, silent, while the echo of your last words still rings in his head. “You can’t do this to me, Jungkook. Not again.” A wave of guilt washes over him. He finally realizes just how much he’s been playing with your emotions without truly understanding it.

Despite his urge to follow you once more, he takes a deep breath, replaying every detail of the night. His thoughts are loud, confused, but one thing is clear: he never wanted to hurt you like this. Not you. Not the only person who seems capable of making him feel this way.

Meanwhile, you keep walking, tears silently streaming down your cheeks. The weight of everything you’ve just experienced overwhelms you, and you try to convince yourself that walking away is the best thing to do. Your footsteps echo in the empty street, and even though you’re walking quickly, each step feels like it’s bringing you closer to the edge of breaking down.

You can’t stop thinking about what just happened. That kiss, as brutal and passionate as it was, caught you off guard. You had felt that same fire between you two, but this time, it was different. This time, there was something deeper behind that gesture. Frustration, jealousy, but also… love, or at least something close to it.

Suddenly, you stop dead in your tracks in the middle of the street. Part of you wants to run, but the other part begs you not to give up hope. You turn around, scanning the street behind you. Jungkook is no longer there. Your heart sinks at the realization, but a part of you feels relieved.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your frantic heartbeat. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe you’re just too different, that this burning desire that consumes you both will end up destroying everything.

As you slowly head toward home, the sound of hurried footsteps behind you makes you jump. You turn around, and there he is. Jungkook. He’s standing there, breathless, as if he ran to catch up with you. His hair is disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, but that same intensity still burns in his eyes.

“YN…” he begins, his voice hoarse with fatigue and emotion. “I… I can’t let you go like this. Not again.”

You remain still, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to listen, to understand what he truly feels. But your lips stay sealed, your heart pounding harder with every word he speaks.

For a moment, you saw him running toward you, as if the devil himself were chasing him. And the next, you were hit full force by his gesture, even more confused than you already were. Before you could react, you found yourself in his arms again, his mouth pressed against yours, desperately trying to draw a response from you. For a moment, you stood frozen, in shock. Then, despite yourself, you responded. A brief instant where everything around you collapsed, and you finally understood the true meaning of the phrase “The flesh is weak.” Yours was no exception.

It had been two weeks since you last heard from him. Two weeks of growing frustration, of pent-up desire. And in the span of a few minutes, your lips found each other again, in a kiss that was both passionate and desperate. But beneath that passion, there was a simmering anger, a palpable tension between the two of you.

Your emotions, though distinct, reflected each other strangely. Jungkook was furious. Furious with you, for your lack of judgment, for your lack of self-respect. How could you even consider leaving with someone like Jung-Ho? Anyone with half a brain could see how toxic that man was. And you knew that. You weren’t stupid. So why had you even entertained the idea of sleeping with him? But his frustration was also aimed at himself. He had sworn to stay away from you, not to get caught up in this whirlwind of emotions. And yet, here he was, chasing after you again, unable to let you go.

As for you, your anger was boiling over. How dare he, after ignoring you for days, act like some jealous, possessive man? How could he treat you like that, in front of your friends, at your workplace, when he had been avoiding you like the plague just days earlier? He had no right over you, over your actions, over your choices. Yes, you had made a mistake in choosing Jung-Ho as a distraction, but you just wanted to free yourself from the hold Jungkook had on you. And you were willing to do anything to make that happen.

But what was eating away at you even more was yourself. How could you be so weak? How could you give in to his kiss, not once, but twice, after everything he had put you through? You had promised yourself you wouldn’t become just another conquest in his long list. And yet, here you were, doing exactly what you swore you’d never do. Were you a masochist, or just desperate?

Finally, in a moment of clarity, you did the only thing that seemed logical. You abruptly broke the kiss. Without a word, you raised your hand and slapped him hard, feeling the heat of the impact on your palm. Then, without looking back, you turned on your heel and fled. Fled straight to your home, where you hoped to escape the emotional storm threatening to engulf you.

Next ⇢

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.

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Taglist : @variety-is-the-joy-of-life ; @ttanniett

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#yaya #jeon s sins #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #jeon jeongkook #bts x reader

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lanitaminaj · 10 months ago

Text

all mine, pt. 2 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a long overdue part two to my all mine fic.

cw: toxic eren, detailed smut, cussing

mikasa knew she was in trouble.

her right leg bounced as she glanced out of the mercedes benz’s passenger side window, occasionally taking quick peeks at the man speeding dangerously down paradis avenue.

his jaw was clenched, and although there was barely any light due to the twilight-black colored sky, the streetlights they drove past allowed mikasa an occasional glimpse of how his veins materialized because of his tight grip on his steering wheel.

“i swear to god, mikasa. it’s like you live to piss me the fuck off.”

mikasa, of course, had gone to reiner braun’s party against eren’s wishes.

“it’s just a party,” mikasa found herself uttering, her eyes not daring to leave the passenger side’s window despite her bold words. from the internal reflection, she could see eren’s eyes narrow at her for a brief moment as the vehicle suddenly accelerated to a higher speed. “plus, i’m an adult, eren. you’re treating me like i’m a child.”

“mikasa i don’t give a fuck that you’re an adult, it’s not even fucking about that.” eren’s enraged, cerulean eyes remained on the road. despite the fact that he was cussing mikasa out, or the fact that he was going twenty-miles over the speed limit, the young man was not about to let them crash. “and even if i’m treating you like a child, so fucking what. you don’t know the guys around here, especially not assholes like reiner braun.”

“i had a good time,” mikasa provoked, finding the courage to study his face as he drove them into their neighborhood. the irritation eren felt failed to slacken. if anything, mikasa’s words only inclined eren down a further path of indignation. she watched as he bit the inside of his right cheek, his head shaking slightly as he laughed once to himself.

“oh, yeah?” eren questioned, his voice airy towards the end in mocked curiosity. “and what was the good time in question? drinking beer? smoking pot? or was it fun talking to those jackasses braun always brings around?”

“i had one beer,” mikasa grumbled.

eren nearly stopped the car right there.

“the fuck did you say?” a scowl grew on eren’s maddening face, his cheeks flushed from fury as the median of his full, dark eyebrows dipped downwards in exasperation. “you had what?”

“i’m eighteen,” mikasa replied, her response somewhat rushed as eren’s voice plunged in tone. “i’m allowed to drink what i want.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” eren’s deepened voice declared.

“eren,” the young woman found herself beginning to plead slightly. “eren, please it wasn’t that serious.”

“wasn’t that serious,” the young man repeated to himself, the tresses of his inky-black hair spiraling across his face and around his neck in his disbelieved state. “eighteen-year-old mikasa goes to a party where she not only talks to men older than her, but she also drinks a fucking beer with them, too.”

little teardrops began to race down mikasa’s rosy-cheeks, the pink-hue the result of the blush she applied hours earlier, and her genuine, overwhelmed state. “eren, please.”

“just wait ‘til we get home,” eren simply asserted, their home only one block away. mikasa felt herself silently cry, her shapely body gently trembling as she let herself weep because of the man beside her. the man in question refused to acknowledge her, the only final words that emerged from his filled lips were concise and straightforward:

“just wait until we get fucking home.”

he washes her face, careful and delicate as if she was a porcelain doll.

her hair had been released from its bun, her curt, raven-black hair flowed freely from her exhausted scalp. her teeth had been brushed for her, the affair carried out shortly after eren insisted she’d take two advil pills and a half cup of ginger ale for the beer-induced sickness she might begin to feel. even her outfit had been replaced, the pink, lacy-fabric summer dress she opted for was succeeded by one of eren’s plentiful, lengthy, smoke-grey t-shirts. conflicted as she felt about him currently, she was very appreciative of the change of clothes. it was comfortable, ending just short of her knees, and comforting, the familiar scents of sandalwood and tobacco pleasantly filled mikasa’s nostrils.

“you know i love you, right, miks?”

his fingers wrapped around a sky-blue face towel, the fabric slightly damp with tap water and a lavender-scented toner. he rubs mikasa’s cheeks clean of any makeup residue, her face back to her sun-tanned, ivory color.

“yes,” mikasa whispered, her words meant to appease the young man.

eren cooed at her, a soft, adoring sound of an aww drifted tenderly out of his lips. his fingers dropped the towelette into the sink just before they tucked a strand of mikasa’s moistened, crepuscular-hair behind her ear. “oh, miks. i didn’t meant to get that upset with you. i just get worried, baby.”

“i know,” the young woman replied, her face blushing a soft-red color as if she were a blossoming rose. eren’s fingers extended out, his palm now resting on mikasa’s left cheek. obediently, the acquiescent girl found herself leaning into his touch.

“but still-“ mikasa lightly attempted to counter, but was quickly shot down with a shh, shh.

“no, miks,” eren uttered, his thumb softly caressing the smoothness of mikasa’s freshly, clean face. her tender, wide eyes peered up to meet the pair of darkening, hollowed eyes. “let’s not talk about it anymore,” the boy finished, the flatness of his words ceasing any attempts of mikasa’s counterclaims.

mikasa obediently nodded, the action the direct result of eren’s widening smile.

“let’s watch a movie,” he dictated, the straightforwardness and flat-tone of his words made it clear to mikasa that he wasn’t asking of her, but commanding.

the girl nodded again, her svelte, dangling legs jumping off the sink as she submissively followed eren’s lanky steps towards the living room.

mikasa could feel the rise of eren’s chest against her tense, taut back.

eren’s steady, relaxed breathing soothed mikasa only slightly, the young woman finding it difficult to be assuaged so close to eren yeager.

his hands rested on her plump, tawny-tanned thighs, his right hand occasionally massaging her in an attempt to soothe the young woman.

“i love you,” eren breathed, his sharp-edged jaw resting on mikasa’s still shoulder.

mikasa remained soundless, her words lost as her mind couldn’t keep up with present time.

“really?” the young woman found her words.

“really.”

eren’s right hand glazed upwards on mikasa’s thigh, his warmth causing a permanent, cherry-red hue to gloss on the young woman's cheeks.

"eren," mikasa whispered through her breathless voice. "what are you doing?"

"shh," the young man shushed, his long, virile fingers stroked the lacy design of mikasa's black boy-shorts. "let me make you feel good."

his fingers rubbed gently as he touched her; the pressure he added increased the closer he stroked to the center of her core.

"miks," eren prompted, his honey-tan lips glazing over the blushing girl's goosebump-pricked left ear. "did anyone touch you like this at the party?"

"no," mikasa answered almost immediately, a hint of a moan escaping her azelea-pink, gnawed-on lips. eren's touch extended to lightly brushing against her clit, the sensation erotic yet badgering as he only touched her above her panties.

"no?" eren echoed, his left, veiny hand reaching up to cup mikasa's left tit above his own, oversized grey tee that she'd been adorned in. "not even like this?"

he pressed fully against her clit, his fingers stroking so firmly to where it gave mikasa no choice but to let a full-moan erupt from her lips.

"eren," she pleaded, her lips ruined by indentations from her eggshell-white teeth. "touch me."

"but i am."

mikasa could feel a light smile grazing the tip of her ears; somehow the coy action made her blush illuminate further.

"you know what i mean," mikasa whined, her hips unconsciously grinding against his fingers.

suddenly, as if it been a record scratch, eren's right hand swiftly gripped mikasa's reddening, inner thigh, his right hand on her clothed tit was held lightly on her throat. her neck was forced to swivel, the young woman's widened, grey eyes met with the young man's piercing, blue pair.

"say it," he commanded, causing a whimper to escape mikasa's lips.

"fuck me," she breathed. "fuck me, eren."

mikasa almost yelped at how rough and vicious eren pulled her panties down, the man giving her no warning as he rubbed his fingers down her throbbing and soaked cunt.

"so wet for me, mika," eren muttered. "you got wet like this for any boy at the party?"

"no," mikasa purred. "i told you i didn't do anything with any boy."

"good," eren responded, his fingers hitching down the edges of his underwear and pants all at once. he slipped his cock in mikasa as a groan escaped his lips, the act causing mikasa to moan. "let's keep it that way," eren finished.

as he fucked into her, soft chantings of "eren, eren, eren," left mikasa's plump o-shaped lips.

"yeah, baby," eren responded in the midst of making his own groans. "you love how i fuck you, hm? you love daddy's cock?"

"yes, daddy," mikasa breathed, her hand desperately thrashing against the bedsheets to find eren's own. he interlocked his icy fingers with her warm ones, their hands held together as they felt pleasure in each others' bodies.

it wasn't until when eren found that one spot deep in mikasa that the woman began to unravel.

"eren," mikasa whimpered. "i think i'm gonna-"

"-yeah, baby," eren interjected, his pace in her increasing as he was desperate to make his girl finish. "cum on my cock, baby. make a mess on it like you always do."

"cumming," she whispered, before her words gradually increased in pitch. "cumming, i'm cumming."

she could feel her stomach tighten up, her eyelids squeezing shut as she heard a loud array of moans leaving her lips. her tits hardened, a rose-red blush beaming vividly on her silky cheeks. eren himself pulled out of her as he reached his climax, a "fuck" leaving his mouth as he came on mikasa's cream-white belly.

he plopped right next to her on the bed, both parties breathing heavily through their mouths as they began to descent from the high. it was eren who opened his eyes first, a slight smile growing on his lips as he took in mikasa's peaceful, angelic form.

"you all sleepy, baby?" eren teased, his fingers pushing mikasa's raven-black tresses behind her ear as he watched the blush on her face increase. his smile grew.

"eren," she whispered, her eyelids opening to meet his cerulean-blue irises. "so tired."

"yeah?" he whispered back. "so tired, baby? all fucked out, huh?"

"mhm," the woman nodded, her eyelids fluttering shut as she drifted in and out of sleep.

"you're gonna stay home with me, huh, miks?"

"mhm," mikasa nodded again, her right cheek pressing into eren's warm palm as it caressed her to bed. "gonna stay with you, 'ren."

"good girl."

#eremika #eren x mikasa #aot #attack on titan #eren aot #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #attack on titan fanfiction #aot eremika

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