This header was made by the amazing @minbuwuty ! <3
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Tattoos, piercings, brief mentions of pain, dirty talk, oral sex. If you feel like I need to add more let me know!
A/N - Another repost from my old blog and I’m pretty sure it’s still unedited but oh well. (I also queued this so my blog doesn’t die while I’m away.)
You made your way down the street excited that you were finally going to get the tattoo that you’d wanted for weeks. You’d actually managed to get an appointment with one of the most coveted tattoo artists in the area and after seeing his work and meeting him you’d completely understood why he was so in demand. You’d visited him a week prior to discuss exactly what it was that you wanted and once you had laid eyes on him you’d been pretty sure that as soon as he laid a hand on you spontaneous combustion was a very real concern.
The man was gorgeous and it was no exaggeration. He had soft looking, dark hair that you’d thought about running your hands through for the whole week, warm chocolate colored eyes that you just wanted to fall into and never leave. The muscles that had stretched the white tee he had been wearing had you practically drooling as well as the tattoo’s that graced his skin.
Being one of the most popular girl groups is hard. Being the maknae? Even harder.But luckily, you have your 97′liners by your side. But what happens when they decide that you and Jungkook would be the perfect pair to represent the 97′ line as a couple?
⤷Notice: i’m internally screaming about the typos ⤷Parts: 18/? , Read the last part here ; Read the next part here ⤷Terms: y/n = your name, y/sn = your surname y/gn = your group’s name ⤷Author Note:
DO YOU RECOGNIZE THE LAWYER? She is the main character in my Seokjin Fake Text Series (aka you lol) . I have a little surpise for you in store so if you want to know how her and Jin’s relationship progess you will get to read this here hehe . Enjoy and leave a comment ♡
Summary: Jungkook turns out not to be quite who you thought he was, and your reaction takes you both by surprise.
Happy belated Birthday @yminie ! I hope you survive! <3 <3
This is kinda PWP, which is why I chose to keep the super cheesy porno title I first came up with haha (plus, I couldn’t actually think of anything better - so sue me). Also, this is the first moodboard I’ve ever made, so please don’t repost or use without credit.
“Home by seven my ass…” you mutter darkly under your breath as your hands dwell somewhere beneath a layer of lemon-scented suds, a scouring pad clenched in fist.
You’d intended leave the dishes until after having eaten tonight, but seeing as your dinner companion is still yet to show after more than half an hour of you being sat at the table like an idiot, waiting, you figured you’d make a start. Anger is great for removing stubborn baked on bread crumbs from an oven tray, apparently; by the time you’re done pretending its surface is your husband’s face and stashed it on the drying rack you’ve never seen it look cleaner.
You wish you could pretend this was the first time he’s come home later than intended. It’s an occupational hazard you guess; as one of the heads of IT tech support for all of the healthcare providers in the local province it’s up to him to make sure every system is running seamlessly no matter the time of day. If a piece of software goes down it’s not just the clinicians who suffer - it’s the patient’s blood results or x-ray reports they can’t gain access to who suffer as well.
So maybe you shouldn’t be so mad - maybe you should be glad to have a husband so hard-working and committed to his job that he’s willing to stay late more often than not. As you pick at little pieces of the beef you’d so painstakingly roasted, long since gone cold, this is what you so avidly try to convince yourself of, but it doesn’t really make you feel any better. It doesn’t change the reality of you being stood all alone at your kitchen counter with tears threatening in your eyes, all dressed up with nowhere to go.
The sound of keys turning in the front door lock has your ears pricking to attention and your back straightening as you abandon your leftovers in favour of watching the entranceway to the hall. The smouldering embers of annoyance that’d been threatening to dwindle away into sadness come roaring back into life with his impending arrival, and as soon as you hear your husband cross the threshold you’re hollering his name, nostrils flared.
“Jeon Jungkook!” His heavy exhale reaches your ears even from several metres away; tired and weary. You know he’ll be worn out after work, and he’s more than likely been dreading having this fight with you all the way home, but your famously short temper won’t let you show him an inch of mercy. Not yet, anyway. “What the hell kinda time do you call this?!”
It’s odd - usually Jungkook would be rushing in by now, a pink tinge to his cheeks and an apology on his lips - but tonight he appears to be taking his time. There’s the sound of his keys clinking against one another as they’re placed on the side and then the heavy tread of his boots coming down the hall that follows, so slow and steady that it only serves to infuriate you all the more. Let him drag this out if he wants; all he’s doing is prolonging the length of the cold shoulder he’ll be receiving later on.
“You could’ve at least called,” you carry on, rounding the kitchen island with one hand on your hip, waiting for him to emerge, “I wouldn’t have bothered busting my ass if I’d have known you - oh my god!”
Hands flying upward to cover your gasping mouth, your wide eyes run rapidly up and down the sorry state of a man who enters your kitchen with his busted lip slanted into a wry smile. It’s not very often you’re at a loss for words and yet here you are, speechless, all anger eradicated by the sight of your husband’s naturally handsome face so marred with cuts and bruises.
He had a serious expression, but not the usual stoicism with tinges of bashfulness like you’re used to. His face seemed shrouded in a darker, carnal yearning. You cursed in the realization that seeing him like this, had you wet. You could feel it, instantly, the familiar heat growing between your legs.
“Kookie?” you tried again, weakly attempting to pull your arms out of his grip. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation. You wince when you feel his grip on your wrists tighten in response to your outburst.
“Stop calling me that,” Jungkook commanded.
“We’re the same age,” he continued. “How long did you think you could get away with babying me?”
summary: it’s always a pleasant surprise when the shy, and bashful boy you befriend on campus reveals himself to be a total dom behind closed doors.
a/n: 3000 words of fluff + 3000 words of sin = healthy diet
You glanced around the science lounge, scanning the groups of profoundly stressed individuals. Of course, with finals approaching, it’s understandable to see everyone so on edge. Finally, your eyes meet with the person you’ve been looking for: Jungkook. I mean, if you could even call it eye contact. It was barely a split-second until he looked away with that all too familiar shy yet neutral expression, and the slightest purse of his lips.
a/n: here it is! This is it – the second and last fic in the vaunt universe! I hope you guys love it a lot and thanks for all the support on part one!
A ruckus from downstairs pulls you from sleep and you instantly groan as your eyes are scorched with the sunshine breaking through the blinds. Ear splitting pain around the back of your head has you covering your burning orbs and burying your face into the pillow beneath you, hands tugging fruitlessly at the comforter in an attempt to better shield yourself, but it doesn’t give.
“Jungkook, what the fuck.” You groan, reaching out and landing a sharp slap on his bare back, right above his ass. “Who the fuck leaves their blinds open overnight?”
“Ah! Fuck, babe, really?” He wriggles onto his side, grabbing at the burning mark you’d left behind and serving to only pull the comforter further away from you.
“Get off the blanket you–fuck! Don’t push me you weeb ass–ah!” He reaches out, grasping at your arm, but cannot stop your fall and you land in a heap on the floor, luckily with the comforter wrapped around you to cushion the landing. “Ow!”
Your head gives another painful throb, and you glare up at him as he chuckles and rests his chin on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you. “You got the blanket at least?”
When Jungkook first came to room with you, you were less than ecstatic about it. You had only ever roomed with one other person before at the start of your freshman year of college, but you quickly got fed up with it. Not that your roommate was bad or anything. In fact, if you were being fair, you’d admit that she was a sweetheart. But you are an only child, and you were never used to sharing anything with anyone, and despite what everyone said about the joys of having siblings, you simply weren’t interested. You have none and that’s the way you liked it.
Tell that to your parents though. They were convinced that you needed the company after years of keeping mostly to yourself unless you had to, with the exception of a couple of close friends. They thought that if you keep at it, you’re going to turn insane from being in your head too much. Where they got that shit piece of pseudo-psychology you don’t know but it had enough hold on their minds to make them force you to get a room in the college dorms -yuck- and live with a stranger for an entire month.
Or it would’ve been a month anyway if you hadn’t made that poor girl’s life a living hell so much so that by the end of the third week, she was running away from your shared dorm room like the devil himself was behind her.
The series of students who came and went through your dorm didn’t last long enough to qualify as roommates. Your record was six hours, that’s how long it took to send one dude,-Hoseok, you’ll never forget the name- running for his life. It’s a shame too, he was cute, and you had to forever ruin your chances with him. But, oh well, there are much more important things in life, like having a bathroom all to yourself.
Soon enough, your college caught on to your reign of terror and they, not so kindly, asked you to vacate the premises and restore the harmony to the student body. Your parents were forced to rent an apartment for you, seeing as you weren’t allowed in the dorms anymore and they lived too far away for you to stay with them. Yeah, they could’ve withheld their money from you and taught you an important lesson about the consequences of being such a spoiled child but they loved you too much to do that. They’ve never been able to deal any real punishment to their baby girl, and that’s probably how you turned out to be so headstrong.
Little did you know, however, that your comeuppance was coming for you. It took five years, five long years where you enjoyed your solitude to the max, but just as you were enrolling in a one-year post-graduate Master’s program, instead of the peaceful send off into the working world you were counting on it to be, it turned into a shitshow of the highest degree with the arrival of a certain bunny-toothed brat.
Jungkook is the son of your family’s next door neighbours. But other than the daily ‘Good mornings’ and the occasional dinner invitation, your families weren’t really close, and the only contact you had with their shy son was that one year you tutored him in math. To be sure, you were shit at math but that didn’t stop you from attempting to make some money off the kid.
You see, Jungkook had a painfully obvious puppy crush on you, and even though you didn’t teach him shit, and what you did teach him was mindbogglingly wrong, he still never spoke a word of it to his parents, studying on his own and getting good marks just so he’d keep seeing you.
To say that you were a bitch to him would be an understatement. You’d frequently invite your boyfriends over, taking advantage of the fact that his parents were never around because of their jobs, and using his place to hook up with them, knowing Jungkook would never tell on you. You did not care or even notice much that you were breaking the boy’s heart.
Eventually, though, he got sick of your shit and asked you to stop coming over. But he still didn’t tell either of your parents, ever the sweet kid. You didn’t hear or see much of him after that, and you suspect that was intentionally his doing, until now.
As if the universe was punishing you for all your sins against the boy, it made him appear again in your life, but this time you were the one who was going to suffer.
On the last day before your Master’s program was set to start, your mum dropped the bomb on you, informing you that your old pupil was to shack up with you this year, and no amount of whining or begging or scheming was going to get you out of it. She gave you an ultimatum: either you let him room with you and look after him, or she stops giving you money and leaves your spoiled ass out in the cold to fend for yourself. Any funny business from you and you’re done.
You were in denial at first, convincing yourself that it couldn’t possibly be that bad. From what you remembered of Jungkook, he was a shy kid who did anything humanly possible to please you. You were sure that his crush must be long gone by now but he would still be the timid boy you remembered. Right?