#wrote it in a few hours after i saw dee's ask lmao

[tayegi]

The Anti-Fan Ch. 1

Loosely based on the movie So I Married an Anti-Fan

For @btssmutgalore and the prompt “Enemies to lovers” i hate u

Word Count: 4,313

"What, really?! I get to work on the BTS article?!" You cry in excitement at the team meeting.

Your editor winces at the volume of your exclamation, "Yes, is that okay?"

"Okay?" You repeat in surprise, "It's amazing! I was such a fan of them back when I was a student! Wow, this makes me feel so nostalgic."

Minyoung, the fashion contributor, snickers at your reaction, "Careful, Miss ___. Your bias is showing."

"What?" you turn to her in confusion, "How did you know my bias was Min Yoongi?"

Seunghoon is rubbing his temples at this point, "Is it safe to give you this assignment?"

"Yes, of course!" You quickly say, fearful that the editor might change his mind, "Am I interviewing the members for their newest album last year?"

"No, that's already old news," Seunghoon says, "Let's do something a bit different."

"Oh… Maybe we can do a fashion analysis, then?" you suggest, "Their styles have been so popular amongst students these days. The Gucci glasses that V was wearing in their newest vlive was sold out in hours!"

"Yes, but they're always interviewed about their fashion tastes in a group… I think it might be more interesting to conduct a personal, in-depth interview with a single member."

"Suga just released his second mixtape…" you subtly, not-so-subtly, hint.

"What? Oh, that's nice. But I'm more interested in their maknae. How would you like to write an exposition on Jeon Jungkook?"

"Jungkook?" You repeat in surprise. You know very little about the youngest member of the group, "I mean… I guess that's fine?"

"Great!" Seunghoon beams, "I'll forward you his company's contact information and you guys can setting up a meeting for this week."

"Oh… okay…"

It's been a while since you've followed BTS. They blew up in popularity in 2016, but you only really obsessed over them before 2015, when you were still a clueless, happy-go-lucky university student with lots of time to slack off and no real stresses. Adulthood has drained you of all your time and passions, and replaced them with responsibilities and taxes.

Back when you first loved them, they had just debuted as a rookie band and Min Yoongi had caught your attention at once. You had been so enthralled by the fiery rapper that you didn't have eyes for anyone else. All you knew about Jeon Jungkook was that he was the cute, talented maknae who a bit too well-loved by the other members. It's a bit perplexing why the editor chose him to be featured in a fashion magazine adhering to women in their 20's and 30's, but as a junior writer, you really can't complain. You've worked your ass off for two long years just to post columns, and you'll jump on this chance for a rare full editorial opportunity.

So you contact BigHit's publicity manager as soon as you can to set up a meeting with the young idol in the company's café that Saturday evening.

It takes you and the photographer quite some time to get through multiple rounds of security at the BigHit building. First, there's the security guard who won't let you in until you call the BigHit PR manager to fetch you. Then, you have to show multiple forms of identification, including your driver's license, which the security guard squints at for over five minutes until you recreate the same dazed expression in your photo to assure him that it's actually you. And then comes the metal detectors and the pat down that leaves you feeling very violated—especially when your snacks are confiscated.

But finally, finally you are escorted into a café in the company's front office. It's a cozy spot, unable to seat more than a handful of people, and clearly designed to just supply the idols with coffee on the go instead of any real socializing opportunities. Still, it's big enough for your photographer to set up the lights and his tripod, and it's so rare to be allowed a peek into the infamously secretive building that you really can't bring yourself to mind.

You're still helping the photographer tinker with the perfect lighting when a broad young man swings by with two coffees in hand.

"Hi, are you Reporter ___?"

You look up, surprised, but privately pleased by the name, "Yes, that is me."

"Ah, great. I didn't know what you wanted, so I ordered you an iced Americano. It's pretty hot out today and the coffee here is fresh."

You accept the coffee with a bow, then turn to assess the man for the first time. He's unbelievably good-looking with strong, masculine features and wide brown eyes. Even when dressed in a simple outfit of ripped jeans and a plain white tee, you can tell that he's ripped. His forearms bulge in the act of simply handing over your coffee. You unconsciously lick your lips, "Thank you so much." Damn. Even the managers at BigHit are ridiculously attractive. If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought him to be a celebrity of some sort. An athlete maybe? His thighs are certainly thick enough to belong to any soccer player. Maybe you'll loiter around after the interview to collect a phone number… "This is delicious," your voice drips with innuendo as you wrap your lips around the straw and take a deep draw of your drink.

His mouth curves into a blinding smile in response, "I'm glad! Is the lighting okay, Miss? Should we get started soon?"

You turn to look at your photographer, who gives you a thumb's up. Then you turn back to the manager, wreathed in smiles, "Yes, we're all ready," you purr, coyly reaching over to rest a hand on his arm, "Thank you so much for all of your work."

His brow furrows briefly before he smiles again, "Great! Then where should I sit?"

You blink, confused by the question for a second before you collect yourself, "Oh… Um… what about across the room at that booth? You can easily monitor the conversation from over there!"

A frown has completely replaced the smile on his handsome face, "Wait, what do you—?"

"Ah, there you are, Jungkook!"

Both of you turn sharply to find an enormous, hulk-like man standing in front of you, lanyard around his neck identifying him as a BigHit staff member. Bewildered as to who he could possibly be addressing, you glance over your shoulder, but there's no one else there.

The tall man stops to wipe down his smudged spectacles before continuing, "Oh, you already delivered the coffees. Great, but let the makeup-noonas touch you up first, okay?"

"Ah, it's just an interview, Sejin-hyung," the younger man complains, "No one's going to see my face."

"But there's a mini photoshoot afterwards," the tall man who must be Sejin, says, gesturing to the camera, "We can't have you looking like a slob. You're Jungkook of BTS, after all!"

Your blood freezes to ice in your veins as you slowly turn to assess the younger man you had mistaken as a BTS manager… There is no way this chiseled god of a man can possibly be Jeon Jungkook, the cute, shy little bunny you remember from your ARMY days in college. He has grown half a head and packed on so much muscle that you can't imagine how much tailoring the poor stylists had to do to fit him in his clothes. Your mouth dries.

"J-jeon Jungkook?"

He beams at you, "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Bangtan's youngest member, Jeon Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Reporter ___."

You stare at his outstretched hand for a second too long before you finally take it, "A-ah, hi. Nice to meet you too." His hand is large and his skin too-pleasantly warm against yours. You swallow tightly and slip your hand out of his before he can shake your hand properly, "Why don't we sit down and get started?"

It's hard to tell at first how this grown ass man who practically exudes testosterone could possibly be the scrawny, puppy-like kid who was every fangirl's ideal son? It's been over seven years since their debut, so he's now… twenty-three? Twenty-four? It's ridiculous and beyond unfair that a young man in his early twenties can look so good.

But as the minutes roll by and the two of you delve deep into his aspirations as a musician, aspects of the teenage Jeon Jungkook you used to cherish so much begin to come out. The way his face lights up when he's talking about his solo performances, and how his smile widens so much that his eyes scrunch up to familiar crescent-moon shapes. Ah, here's your precious bunny son who you love so much. His warmth and contagious positivity has you loosening up and you find yourself truly enjoying your conversation with him.

By the time you walk out of the interview an hour later, you're feeling really great about yourself. The conversation about his musical inspirations was so interesting that you're positive that the newest issue of the magazine will spike in sales. Maybe you'll be able to escape the gossip column for good. They'll have to make you a permanent writer after this!

You're humming to yourself even after you thank Jungkook and send him off, then immediately rush to email your editor the recording of the interview. You're in the process of helping the cameraman clean up when you suddenly receive a phone call from Seunghoon.

"Good evening, Mr. Park," you chime cheerfully when you pick up the call. You're still so pleased with yourself that you can't keep the syrupy sweetness out of your tone.

"What the hell was that?" Seunghoon barks back, abruptly knocking you out of your airy mood.

"Wait… what? What's wrong?"

"Your interview," he huffs, "I just took a listen to it, and it's garbage! What were you thinking?!"

"I-I," you stammer, ego instantly deflating under this abuse, "I didn't think it was that bad…"

"Why the hell were you talking about musical theory nonsense for a whole damn hour?" he spits out, "I thought I would die, I was so bored."

Your face flushes at the insult, "I… I thought it was pretty interesting, sir."

He snorts on the other end, "Are you forgetting that we're a fashion and lifestyle magazine, Miss ___? Young women don't care about Mozart or piano scales or whatever BS you were talking about. That shit doesn't sell. But do you know what does sell? Sex."

"S-sex?" you repeat in astonishment.

"That's right—sex. These boys have been so uptight with revealing any aspects of their personal lives. It's been seven years, and there hasn't been a single scandal with these kids—no dating rumors, no drunken incidents, nothing. Can you even imagine how a sex scandal with Korea's favorite maknae would blow up?!"

"I didn't think of that…" you quietly admit, "But, sir, if their image has been so spotless all these years, what makes you think that they'd slip up and admit something?"

"I don't know," he growls, "But this is one of the first times they've allowed reporters in the building. You should've tried something!"

"Like what?!" you sigh in exasperation.

"You're a moderately attractive young woman. You should've thought of something."

"What?"

"Use your womanly wiles or something," he scoffs, "Well, it's too late now. Just go home and think about what you've done."

"I—sir, you're being really unreasonable right now!" you exclaim, only to realize that Seunghoon has already hung up on you. You slam your phone on the table and bury your face in your hands with a strangled scream.

"Why are we stopping here?" the cameraman asks as you pause by a small, dingy bar on the way back to the car.

"I need a drink," is your blunt response as you grab him by the elbow and drag him in.

The older man shifts awkwardly from foot to foot as you grab a few menus and pull him into the nearest empty booth, "___, I have to get back to my family tonight. The kids need to be tucked in."

"I know, Kikhyun," you sigh as you massage your aching temples, "Let me just chug one shot and order some snacks and I'll be fine, okay?"

Still, he hesitates, "___..."

"Fine!" you exclaim as you jump to your feet, "I'll go get everything to go. Geez, you drive a hard bargain," you complain as you rush up to the counter to order.

The part-timer behind the cash register shoots you the most irritated look when you come up to him, "I'm about to leave for the night," he informs you as he pulls off his apron and slams it on the table.

"Oh, can you wait just five minutes? I just want to order one thing to go."

"Go find the owner of this place," he growls before exiting from behind the counter.

"Wait, sir!" You call after him, but he's already gone. Sighing, you have no choice but to wander around the mostly deserted little bar. There's no one wearing an identifiable employee's apron, so you venture to the second floor instead. This part of the bar is more sparsely furnished—only a handful of secluded booths in strange nooks and corners partially illuminated by bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Smoke curls in the shadowed room, obscuring your vision as you frantically search for an employee.

There's a group of old men smoking and sipping soju in the booth near the staircase, and a cuddly couple in the back corner. But besides those people, you don't see anyone else. You just want your goddamn chicken so you can go home already. Why does this have to be so hard?

"Excuse me, sir, do you know where—"

But they ignore you to nosily cheer and swallow another round of shots. You bite your tongue, frustrated, and move towards the young couple in the very back instead. They're so invested in themselves, the young man whispering (probably filthy) nonsense in the woman's ear, and his hand inching up her skirt as she giggles nervously. You want to roll your eyes at the excessive PDA. Kids these days…

"Hey, you guys. Have you seen the…?" your voice trails off when you identify the young man in the booth. He's wearing a cap to shadow his face and a face mask, but you'd recognize that broad figure and those large brown eyes anywhere.

It's Jeon Jungkook… And he has his hand up some random girl's skirt.

You stand there in the middle of the hall for a few seconds, unable to do anything but gape at him with your jaw dropped to the floor. Could this possibly be the sweet, considerate musician you met with just two hours ago? The one who raved about learning to play the drums and showed you a clip of the new song he was producing? Could that really be the same person as the fuckboy feeling up the blushing girl in a dingy bar right now?

Do you know what does sell? Sex.

Knocked out of your dazed disbelief by your editor's voice in your head, you quickly scramble for the phone in your bag. Your shaky hands somehow manage to punch in the password. Your thumbs are slippery with sweat as you try to open up the camera app. One of the most beloved idols in all of South Korea, caught cozying up with an unknown female companion in a bar.

This will make Seunghoon so happy. You'll probably get a permanent position as a reporter. You'll never have to write another column about flavored lubes again!

Giddy with excitement, you zoom in with the camera until you catch a clear shot of Jungkook's face. Then you press the button to capture the shot—

Click!

Your whole body goes rigid as the sound of your camera's shutter echoes throughout the deserted restaurant. For one crippling second, you pray that Jungkook hasn't heard the click. That you can escape this situation unscathed and get showered with praise by Seunghoon in the office the next morning. You're just about to turn and run for your life when Jungkook suddenly looks up, his eyes meeting yours from across the room.

You freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, but there's nothing you can do. There's no mistaking the camera in your hand pointed straight at him.

"Reporter ___?"

Your face drains of all color. Then you're turning to bolt down the stairs as fast as your feet will carry you. You make it almost to the bottom rung of the staircase, so close that you can practically taste your freedom, when a strong hand abruptly shoots out to grab you by the elbow and forcibly yank you back.

You squeeze out a shriek of surprise before Jeon Jungkook spins you around to shove you against the wall, "I didn't realize you were following me from the office, Reporter ___," he murmurs in a deceptively soft voice, shoving down his face mask so he can speak more clearly.

"I-I swear I wasn't," you hurriedly rush to defend yourself, "I just wanted to grab a snack—I had no idea you'd be here!"

"Mmm, is that so? Then how come you were so rudely snapping a picture of me without my permission? You weren't thinking of posting it, were you?"

You hesitate at that, unwilling to lie to his face, but also fearful of the strange aggression that has overtaken the seemingly docile younger man, "Can you please let go of me?" you politely ask, "It's rather uncomfortable to have this conversation in this environment."

Jungkook smiles at that, making his teeth flash in the darkness of stairwell. But to your surprise, he suddenly jerks his hips forward, effectively pinning you against the wall by your connected pelvises, "I'd hate to make you uncomfortable," he purrs, the hand that slowly travels up the length of your bare arm contradicting his words, "But I'm afraid you might try to run off before we finish our conversation."

You try your best not to show any signs of weakness as you hold your ground, "I'm not deleting the picture, Mr. Jeon."

Jungkook sighs deeply, his face laden with faux disappointment, "I thought you'd say that, Reporter ___. It must be important to your career, hmm?"

You eye him warily as you try to assess his strategy, "Sex sells, Mr. Jeon. I hate to put you in this position… But maybe you shouldn't be sneaking around with girls in the first place."

"I'm just a human man," he says, lips forming a cute pout of protest, "Asking me to be celibate and chaste for the rest of my life to keep the fangirls happy… Isn't that too much?"

"Yes, of course," you cautiously agree, "Idols are human too, they have their needs. But maybe you should come clean to your fans instead of pretending to be chaste while sneaking around behind their backs."

"Do you really think the fans would understand?" he snorts, "I don't think you understand how petty and jealous some of them can be. No, it's better for both parties if no one finds out."

"But it wasn't difficult for me to catch you in the act," you point out, "Wouldn't it be worse if it was a fan who caught you instead? Maybe this is a better way of revealing your secret to the public."

"If it was a girlfriend, I would understand. But being caught in a scandal with a random girl… That would be mean to report, don't you think?"

His face is so close to yours, warm breath fanning the side of your sensitive neck and lips mere inches from yours, that your brain feels fuzzy from his intoxicating proximity. You blink several times to try to collect your wits and prevent your descent into mindless lust. "I… I just… you should've been more careful," you stutter, trying to ignore how nice his lithe body feels pressed against yours. This is every fangirl's ultimate fantasy to be pressed up against the wall by BTS like this. It feels like you're dreaming.

"You don't know how hard it is," he says, his voice dripping with innuendo as he slowly presses a hand against the wall next to your head to cage you in further, "I've been expected to be on my best behavior since I was fifteen years old," he sighs, "No girls, no dates, nothing. And after seven whole years of hard work, don't you think I deserve a break?"

"O-of course you do," you stammer, shakily wiping at your sweaty brow, "You're all young men with hormones and needs. But—"

"But what?" he interrupts, "Do all my years of hard work deserve to go down the drain just because I was taking care of a physical need? You don't know what it's like," he whispers, his voice suddenly so soft that you have to crane your head to hear him, "You don't understand… you don't understand how frustrating it is. I get so hard that it physically hurts and I feel like I might explode. And all I can think about is a female companion to ease my pain… Just an hour is enough… Especially if she's as pretty as you, noona."

All the blood in your body shoots to your face at the unexpected honorific that slips past his slick lips. You're vaguely aware that you're gaping at him, eyes as wide as saucers and jaw hanging, but you can't control your shock. Never in a million years would you have expected such filthy shit to be coming from BTS's precious golden maknae… Especially not with his hand sliding up your shoulder to caress your collarbones and the length of your neck in such a hungry, predatory fashion that you almost expect him to choke you.

At this point, you can't tell if you'd like that or not.

"Mr. Jeon, I—"

"Jungkook," he corrects in a husky voice that sends heat straight to your core, "Please call me Jungkook, noona."

"I…" you swallow the excess saliva in your mouth and reluctantly agree, doing everything you can to appease him so that you can escape from this situation, "Ok… ok, Jungkook."

He brightens at this, mouth curling into a self-satisfied smirk, "That sounds so good coming from your pretty little lips." He leans in at that moment, making you flinch in shock, hand darting up to press protectively against your mouth, but to your relief, he's only reaching for the phone gripped tightly in your hand. "Can you please unlock this for me, noona?"

You wordlessly obey, thumb punching in the passcode before you can catch your mistake, "Jungkook... what are you doing?"

"Putting in my number of course," he laughs, showing you the screen where he's entering in his information, "So you can contact me whenever you like… Oh, and I'm going to delete this picture, by the way," he says, scrolling to your gallery next to select the stalkerish photo of him feeling up the girl in the booth, "It'll just save us both a headache," he says with a wink.

You should stop him. You really should. This is straight up coercion and you shouldn't let him manipulate you this way. But it's hard to think, much less act, when his strong chest is pressed against yours, squeezing all the oxygen from your lungs.

"Jungkook!" You exclaim, eyes bulging in shock when you feel his hand dart from the curve of your neck down to your backside.

He simply laughs, "I'm just returning your phone, that's all, noona."

You swallow tightly as you feel him slip the slender device into your back pocket. Then, with one last swat to your ass that makes you squeak, he pulls back. As soon as there is space between your bodies, you slump against the wall, suddenly winded and gasping for air.

Amused by your disheveled appearance, Jungkook teasingly ruffles your hair before stepping away, "I'll see you around, Reporter ___."

By the time you get back to the cameraman, he's worried beyond belief, "What took you so long, ___?"

You numbly shrug your shoulders as you walk past him, "Just a run in with someone I knew…"

Kikyun's confused as he jogs after you, "Wait, what about your snacks?"

You shake your head, "Suddenly, I'm not so hungry…"

Bewildered by your strange behavior, your colleague has no choice but to follow you back to the car.

Later that night, after the longest, hottest shower of your life, you sit in a fluffy bathrobe on top of your bed, laptop opened in front of you as you ponder the strange occurrences of the day.

Jeon Jungkook, the beloved maknae of BTS, just hustled you. He seduced you, overwhelming you with his sheer presence, then manipulated you. All it took were a few words dripped in honey, and he had you eating out of the palm of his hand like a dog.

Your blood boils with indignation. How could you have been so easily exploited? You're a grown ass woman with a college degree, not some silly love-struck teenager who thinks her "oppas" can't do no wrong.

And so you shift your gaze back to the image blown up across your computer screen. It's a bit blurry, but Jungkook's face under his cap is as clear as day. And no one could mistaken the hand up his female companion's skirt as anything virtuous.

That silly little maknae hustler. Does he not realize how iCloud works in this day and age? A slow smile spreads across your face as you contemplate what to do with your new discovery. It's like the winning ticket to a powerball jackpot. And only you can cash it in.

Author’s Note: I wrote this for my follow forever drabble game. 

Please be understanding and stop asking me about updates :)