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BACK TO YOU ⋆ 전정국

ıllı . . . . . TWIRL ME TWICE — i'll treat you like a holiday and don't say you're over me baby, it's too late ⨾༊

brief, you always seem to go back to him, what about now? starring, drummer!jk x rich f!reader tags/warnings, smut. mdni. dry humping, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m) receiving, slight degradation(?) not pronounced, oc is an entitled rich girl, and jungkook falls for her antics basically, but don't get it wrong— he craves it. usage of drums during intimate moments (he's a drummer and he's jungkook so cut me some slack HAHHA) nicknames, pov shifts (clearly mentioned), emotional push and pull, kind of slow burn, characters are messy in their own ways but everything ties together— if something is unclear, send me an ask/comment !, angst (sorry babies). word count, 6.7k love diaries music rec, "if you lie down with me" — lana del ray, "heartbreak warfare" — john mayer, the party & the after party — the weeknd note, this started as an idea from js a simple thought of mine, can't spoil rn cuz what's the fun in that,, loved writing this because i accidentally js spewed all my need for a slow burn BUT not so slow (iykyk) in here. i edited this so many times its not even funny how i hyperfixated. did i mention how obsessed i am with drummer!jk? yeah that's it.

────୨ৎ────

“1,2,3.. stop!” the man, in his mid-twenties and ginger hair, which is the only color he stuck to for about 4 months straight now, practically yells into his mic.

“Jungkook you actually have to lock in, mate. This is not doing you any good, y’know.”

“You can clearly see I’m fucking trying, Jimin. I told you I needed to step out like right now, we’ve been at this for hours.” 

Jeon Jungkook. Lead drummer, easily a handsome lad who could be mistaken for a very successful celebrity. He’s got that aura, the charm to waddle into the hearts of numerous girls and guys alike, just like he does at those tiny desk concerts— the original miniature set-ups with a lot of sweaty bodies and headbanging. 

The raw stuff. Pure music. Flatlining passion.

“ ‘kay just go take a drag or something, but remember, return back by 7. Or I’m actually going to go hunt for someone else with no hard feelings.” Jimin passes on a complacent grin to which Jungkook rolls his eyes, he knows the latter cannot evade the decade long friendship they shared, nonetheless.

Jungkook walks over to the wooden door of the cramped studio where the duo was practicing, and since this very day consisted of rumbled musings and adjusting tones of the new release because the other members of “Seom” haven’t shown up and Jimin could only get hold of his dear brother to pour sweat into the new album along with him.

“Seom”— island in Korean, grounded the boys to their Southern roots, and tied them to the strings of reverberating music, just like how water expands and ripples around an island. It was mostly Jimin’s idea, to which Jungkook agreed immediately as he wanted their essence to be a part of this whole game. 

Ping.

Classic notification beep. The message is far from the “class”, however.

[shortcake] 5.57pm fuck you.

Oh he wishes. Start of the day so hellish all he wanted to do was be balls deep inside you. 

He shifts, leaning against the tattered door frame, locking his phone, shutting out the cascade of profanities filling up in your chat. The blob of silence that followed seemed to dissolve into thin air as a puff of smoke hindered his obscure view of people bustling about through the narrow alley.

Utter contrast to where he met you for the first time.

Back to : 6 months ago.

Jungkook wisely controlled the awe-filled sounds that threatened to leave his mouth, while Jimin and Hyunjin on the other hand, straight up wow-ed at the dazzle of golden chandeliers, polite service of umpteen number of waiters and waitresses catering to every other person, cold air that refreshed the scorching heat outside this magnificent yacht as soon as their lot entered the foyer.

“We’re looking for Conference Room 3” Jungkook referred to his emails before making a request at the reception, tapping his fingers on the crafted marble desk and adjusting the instruments on his shoulders.

In the meantime he luckily notices Hyunjin slide to the left, initiating loose talk with the other receptionist, thus pulling him by the collar to the latter’s unpleasant surprise.

“I was just shootin a shot, okay?” His lack of understanding was not the mood, especially for today.

They must remain composed and professional until the band’s first official performance for a crowd with more than a 100 people came to a successful end.

There was barely time for aimless flirting and fun. This was the foremost opportunity to grab a place and set the stone for Seom.

Hundred, however, is more than a few for a birthday party. But what more could be expected from a full-fledged family of chaebols. 

“We don’t have much time, but Kook, you need to brush up a few beats before the stage. I’ll go ahead with Hyun to get the set done by then.” Jimin unpacked his guitar set and signaled Hyunjin to follow him outside to the stage area.

Finally done setting up the drums and arranging the kit, Jungkook tests it for a few beats, before flipping through the music book for a brief second to make final touches.

Click.

The door unlocks and closes, assuming it’s Jimin and Hyunjin, he continues to maneuver the stick through the booming plates of the drum.

“Y’all back already? They set up the stage for us too or did something fancy?” He passes a casual joke, unbeknownst of the fact that you were on the receiving end.

“That was quite a faulty pun, Jungkook Jeon?”

You read off of the rear of his chair that had his name on it for identification.

Perched on a personalized chair paired with such a comment rolling out so smartly didn’t sound as cute to you.

His head whipped and almost cracked, turning around at the words that flowed so elegantly, as opposed to what he was expecting.

Hands folded against your chest, slightly bunching up the fabric of the baby pink satin body-con hugging your well-built figure, doing a bad job at leaving much to one’s imagination, especially with the thin straps as sleeves.

Composed. Professional. He reminded himself.

Having seen you during the meeting where Seom was selected to set sail and perform at your birthday bash, he deemed you as a handful when you chanted numerous details into your dad’s ears and when you disagreed with most of the proposals they had for the final track list. As mentioned, fancy was the alternate last name for the Choi family.

He could deal a handful.

Or so he thought.

The damn look in your eyes. It propelled him forward, leaving the wooden seat behind, walking towards you ever so slowly but steadily. 

“Careful, pink princess. Your dress boutta get messed up, don’t want those personal butlers to curse at you.” 

The corners of your lips twitch ever so testingly. As if a single smile could give it all away.

“Were you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’? Thought we finalized the track list accordingly.” 

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room, he watches you closely.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally, you hear your favourite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares pretty strawberry cake with her friends.”

He leans on the backrest of the chair, with his name printed across a piece of white paper, tainting your eyes with dripping taunt.

“Can’t wait to hear it.” You spit, but surely you wanted to explore their band and music. 

“Would you give me some cake too, huh?” He slips the mockery in every fucking word with practiced ease, just like how he handles those drums.

“That doesn’t explain you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’.” You clawed at the previous question, ignoring the sly ask, genuinely curious as to why he chose that particular song minutes before an actual performance.

“Why, favorite?” He muses, flipping the book to a certain page yet again, positioning himself in front of the instrument.

“None of your business. Can you play it again?” Latter part of the sentence ever so feebly and hesitantly left your mouth as if it was tightly wound against your vocal chords, barely finding strength to be pushed out as a request. 

A wish. One that you don’t know— for the first time— would be granted. Having everything served on a platter from Day 1, this is a new deal for you. The doubt, the anticipation felt confusing to say the least. 

Seeing him steer through the papers and almost giving in to what you said, it seemed like a win.

Until it wasn’t.

“Afraid not, it’s my cue to be back on stage. That was my warmup song and I’m done.”

He sits forward, actions biting back on his words, as he looks least interested in hurrying to “be back on stage.”

“You’re literally performing for my party. It’s my crowd out there and they’d be forgiving if a drummer’s late.” Diving head first into this pointless banter was never on your agenda for today.

“Feeling entitled much?” He seemed calm, fidgeting around to pack up necessities.

“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.”

You were done. All restraints broke, a spiteful remark was nothing. None. Nada.

To your utter disbelief, it actually did nothing to him.

Jungkook finally got up from the damned chair, moving towards you and painfully looking into your eyes before gracing your ears with his raspy, raspy voice.

“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.”

You weren’t stupid to miss the disdain laced stress on that particular word. Like he was throwing daggers at you. 

Tongue poking behind the smooth walls of your cheek, you watch him fucking leave.

His resistance to you was instantly delicious. 

Were you crazy for wanting him to be completely into you? Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge.

___

“Yeah, wine’ll do for today. You don’t wanna get too drunk.”

You nudge at Jessi, best friend, ride or die, whatever. Having known her since private kindergarten —the ones where a couple of selected children get tutored alone unlike the actual ones— she’s been a tad bit crazy, especially with alcohol and parties, as you grew up together.

“Why, you planning to get wasted and use me as your chauffeur because you can’t get your dad’s car sent?” She deadpanned, adjusting the MiuMiu purse that clung around perfectly on her honey skin.

“Spot on.” You squint your eyes at her, ridiculing, as you walk towards the venue.

“Look at herr!” Taehyung hoots in glee as you enter through the grand doors, starting a poor rendition of “It’s your birthday” as he pulls you by the hand, into the chaos.

Taehyung was the unavoidable guest at any party. He brings life with him, even if it mostly makes you question the invite.

“Guess what flavour of cake i got for your special dayy-“

Taehyung’s words blurred into the horizon as you were consumed by certain thoughts.

Kim Taehyung was no one distinct, just another man from your dad’s friends’ family who owned a bunch of inherited businesses like most of the people present in the party today.

Except the ones on stage.

The one, among them.

His name never left your mind, unusually so, because you don’t hold on.

Don’t build connections, never chain the beads of relationships with bare hands.

It always came with something.

But him?

A puzzling, faint secret.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Stop avoiding me just because I ordered strawberry shortcake, I wanted to give the new bakery a try too, now c’mon and clink clink bitch.” Tae was already tipsy and it was-

What did he just say?

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung. You literally took freedom for granted.” You shoot a sharp look at his red face, snapping back from the trance, but he just pouted in response.

“My bad I let you buy the damn cake, asshole.” You watch him pay no heed to you, going back to being an utmost social butterfly.

Everyone applause. 

Birthdays were not supposed to be this humiliating.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares strawberry cake with her friends.”

You recall Jungkook’s words and everything and beyond you want right now would be the ability to sink into the fucking ground.

Courtesy : Kim Taehyung because he literally made way for Jungkook’s assumptions to come to life.

He didn’t have to be so lively, y’know.

“I need another cake there, in 5 minutes.” You whisper to Jessi, but she didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the train of texts being exchanged with her boyfriend.

___

21 wasn’t supposed to be as humbling.

The 20 somethings were to be full of cruises through picturesque islands and a possible girls’ trip if Jessi was into it. She’d be, but you wanted it to be a bit more relentless and intriguing. 

You wanted to explore.

Maybe your wish was granted— partly— earlier than you’d please.

“Seom” as you learnt from their introduction was nothing less than a fucking wave. One to explore. To indulge in, especially the lead drummer.

Even if you’d hesitate to admit, seeing Jungkook go all out on the drums, setting a bar so high and then hitting the lows before springing back up with just the taps of two sticks and a determined mind, he looked insane. 

Sweat clinged onto his forehead, wispy stray hair falling to the sides and god the tank top.

One that didn’t go unnoticed by you during the backstage shenanigans.

The music ends with thunderous applause from the audience, and you see Jungkook reach for the mic from Jimin, clearing his throat into it before speaking.

“We really enjoyed performing here today, but there’s a special ending note I’d like to play.” He signals for the others to exit the stage, claiming it alone with undeniable presence, blasting a beat into the speakers with those damn skilled fingers. 

He was playing the background score of “Heartbreak Warfare.” 

You weren’t exactly subtle with the reactions, eyes widening as the tune grew familiar.

“He’s so fucking good at this,” Taehyung slurred from behind. “But missing only one thing.”

“— a grammy nomination.” The man looked so proud of his witticism.

His luck, you were too engrossed in how Jungkook completed the rendition with absolute perfection, doing justice to every single nuance of your favorite song.

“Do we have any of the strawberry cake left?” Your unhinged doubt in the middle of the performance— consuming the premise, and people— makes Jessi chuckle from behind.

“Weren’t you the one who made me go place an order for another one? We literally cut the chocolate cake I had to run last minute for, and this boy is damn upset.” She points at Tae, who was mindlessly chugging another shot of his alcohol, looking farthest from upset. 

“___, we’re going to the dance floor now, c’mon” Taehyung started testing the material of your dress between his sloppy fingers, trying to grab your attention like a carefree kid.

“Can you ask them to send a piece over to Seom’s green room? Meet me at the dance floor after.” Running a hand through well-set hair, you look back again— eyes catching sight of his unrelenting drive towards music that almost topples you over on those fucking louboutins— before catching up with Taehyung’s jittery steps towards the party room next door.

Jessi was cent percent sure you were on to something.

Because, one piece of cake for 3— math wasn’t tallying up right.

And you taking personal interest to have it delivered?

Weird.

__

his pov.

The trio stands around the now droopy cold, untouched piece of sweet goodness dressed in baby pink icing, as if it was about to be convicted in court.

“Whoever sent it in, they could’ve packed three more.” Jimin sulks, as if more pieces somehow equals to finding whoever this anonymous confectioner is.

“But we’re only 3 people and one’s here already, dumbass.” Hyunjin analyses the situation as though satisfying their sweet tooth is the only problem here.

“An extra piece wouldn’t hurt you right?” 

The trial about a damn piece of strawberry shortcake ceased abruptly, hanging over the edge through Jimin’s harmless remark. 

However, someone in the room seems to have attained enlightenment— precisely not so— because he was praying, hoping to whatever higher power that it wouldn’t be what he thought it was.

The conclusion was inevitable.

“I’ll be back.” Lead drummer, guides his own way to the adjacent ballroom.

It wasn’t some sort of cinematic appearance— he didn’t enter in as the prince who aimed to claim his princess.

He was a walking mess. Like a literal strained bunch of bafflement.

At your fucking audacity. 

Like you were mocking his service. His team’s hard work.

There was no way to sugarcoat it.

You were being an asshole.

And just like a rifle zeroes in on its target, Jungkook’s gaze pinpoints yours among the sea of people. He moves further, a mild hurry outlining his steps through a bunch of sweaty bodies mixed with the expensive scent, lingering on, making it easier to distinguish the crowd as ones from high-end families.

He remains aware of the surroundings— the lap of luxury sprawled out and highlighted each speck of dust around— even in the air.

Nevertheless, that was gotten rid of.

His presence of mind packs a suitcase and makes a bolt out of its abode, as soon as your eyes meet his.

As if an urgent sense of victory ziplined through, he watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to hide a smile.

Not the one that looked like a perfect crescent moon, one that radiates joy, though. Yours was synonymous to that of a fucking Cheshire Cat on a mission.

“Knew you’d come.” Your red glossy lips mouth, and he caught it amongst all.

Jungkook was furious, but he was dissolving.

It was as if an imaginary string connected the both of your bodies, the pull growing stronger by the minute.

Slow and steady, wins the race.

But his libido takes over, avoiding all the speed bumps.

And then he realized. As if it wasn’t so obvious.

He wanted you.

However, you didn’t have to know that.

___

If it was the Jungkook 30 minutes ago —who fired up from backstage to ballroom in less than 2 strides to catch hold of the fucking menace of a woman for trying to deride his performance— he would’ve laughed at the face of anyone who tried to tell him, that he was holding that very woman by the waist in the middle of a dance.

Breath.

“Your heels are about to punch a hole in my feet.” He shifts you forward so swiftly with one hand on your waist, legs finally coming alive again after 2 minutes of torturous dancing.

“Tryna hold you together, if you fall apart. I can distinguish between a good dancer and a bad one, y’know.” 

“I’m gonna leave if you keep running that mouth of yours.” He whisper-yells into your ears, above the 165 bpm party music.

His jaw twitches at the reason he’s still anchored in the same spot.

Another request. One that took flight way easier than the previous one. Your pretty mouth asked for help.

“Don’t wanna look alone in my own party. Dance?” You had asked, peeking at his anger infused red eyes 30 minutes ago, through your angel-like lashes, which had him expressing distaste, but quickly securing him behind you.

Ass pressed up against his crotch, he knew you were testing his boundaries. He knew you were careful, measured, as your hands rhythmically made its way around his neck, adhering to the beat.

His hands still around the small of your back— unsure if it was to steady you or himself.

Minx.

His hands find solace in your swaying hips, pushing you forward, trying to maintain distance.

Because this was supposed to be a nice gesture. An act of goodwill so a girl won’t feel alone on her birthday.

Why the fuck was he sporting a semi?

“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, shortcake?” 

This time, he didn’t have to push you away.

You sprang off, akin to how the like-poles of magnets repel.

“The fuck did you just call me?” You had to yell, some of the drunk dancers sending weird glances.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You pulled that act to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whisper, moving closer to his ears, dragging him out, swerving through to the common restroom.

____

your pov.

“What’s all this, __?” The sudden silence echoes his deep voice throughout the entire place, making you dizzy at its amplification as opposed to the hushed noises coming from outside.

“Huh?” You pant a little, looking up at him yet again with those eyes.

He hoists you up, cold marble coming in contact with your supple, exposed thighs making you wince in the faintest voice.

“What do you think you’re doing, ___?”

His face is dangerously close. Breaths colliding.

“You played it for me, Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re kidding me, shortcake.”

He jerks back, hands placed on the table, caging you in them but it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook’s head falls next to your shoulder, barely touching as his eyes remain closed throughout.

“There’s nothing I’m joking about here, Jungkook.”

He slightly looks up, still hesitant to catch your eyes.

“I think the fuck yes. You’ve been diminishing my presence the entire night, and that whole cake situation felt embarrassing, __. In front of my fucking bandmates, I felt like nothing.”

His head falls again, as if some inner beast caught his breath, sighing.

“I don’t see a reason for that.” You shrug, in genuine confusion this time.

“Yeah you wouldn’t. Because I made the mistake of agreeing to perform here, when Jimin and Hyunjin clearly had no reason to.”

“Is it ‘cause you owe my dad?” A sly smirk creeps up into your lips, as Jungkook finds it in himself again to look at you.

“Do I have a fucking choice?”

“You should’ve thought before wandering into our territory, asking for help.” You swing your legs, still on top of the restroom table like you’re on some play-date, enjoying ice cream on a sunny Saturday.

“I needed it for survival. Seom was falling apart, and we really required that sum of money. And oh, you’re talking about Mr. Choi, the ever so generous man, huh? Your dad has put me through it even if I was a minute late to pay him back each month.”

“I can help.” 

You offer. Simple, cut through. It was always the simplest of suggestions that seemed like the end of the world.

“You? You’re holding on by a thread to your family, but except your thread— it’s made of money. Mine isn’t.”

“Bingo.”

Oh.

“Be with me for a month and I’ll help you relieve some stress. Know you need it. In return,”

You pause, meandering your vision to his, watching his expressions twist, lightly.

 “I’ll tell dad about your situation.” This was your cue to pull him closer by the ends of his tank top.

“Best believe, you think I’d be on my knees, accepting your offer right now” He tears himself apart, now fully on two feet, the distance between your bodies increasing.

"Remember the name you own that you boasted about, back there? Don't forget about the price you have to pay my dad, to uphold it." Laid-back, pausing for a moment, you could feel the gears turning in his head, back facing your frame now.

“There’s only one exit, to every entrance.” You say, as he was headed for the door, coming down from the table, you had your hands folded, yet again. 

Always the same.

The sound of his resolve snapping, was another alarming echo, as two worlds collided.

It was the answer to your proposal.

His lips taste like unadulterated need. Those roamed around yours, in a hurry, like a telltale of passion. He occasionally presses your foreheads together, taking as much as he wants before dipping in again. 

There you knew.

This was about to turn into a constant cycle. An endless war against sanity.

You, him— one heated glance, two bodies meeting to fight it.

____

Present.

his pov.

It feels quite deranged to think about.

Approximately a year ago when Seom was in the trenches, Jungkook, unbeknownst to his bandmates, found himself in front of Choi Enterprises. Even though the sum he got from your dad was useful in a way, it was hell to pay off. He handled it all alone, and wanted it to be a secret deal.

He still remembers that day, where you sat in front of him, flaunting the information like it bothers you.

He still remembers the way you thanked him.

Two simple, simple words. The ones that were taught as basic manners in school, ones which are usually ignored. 

Two words he never saw coming his way, even with years of hard work and struggle, living in small dorms and surviving off of convenience store food for a dream.

No one ever appreciated him, except the person who he least thought would.

“Thank you.”

It held the fucking weight of the world when you elicited it from your posh voice.

It took him here. Landed into this mutual succour, drove him into the heights of insanity, shared nights and whatever remnants of passion he had.

It's been six months and a few.

Yet here he is, still tangled up in need for you.

You asked him for a month, but that was just a feeble fabric to mask how you both just wanted to have a good fuck after everything going on in your lives, seeking whatever you missed.

However, Seom was on its success grind. After the storm of hardships, you did keep your promise. Continuous shows, a few sponsorships.

There were clear boundaries in this mad game of push and pull. 

It always remained a casual fuck, right after his gigs or sometimes in the closed walls of your luxurious penthouse that he thought he’d never see.

Because, you were mostly travelling, going on trips with god knows who.

He finds himself concerned about your company to these getaways, more than you’d given him the right for.

He opens up his messaging app again, briefly glancing at the time before opening your chats.

Finally.

Three dots appear, leave for a minute— not to be mistaken— as it comes back again with a bang, bringing in hot trails of new messages.

It was as if you were waiting for him to see your previous string of profanities.

[shortcake] 6:10 pm Asshole, where the fuck are you? [shortcake] 6:10 pm It’s been a week, Jungkook. Send me your location or you know I have my ways.

[jungkook] 6:11 pm I’m at the studio. Come to my room, behind. You know it.

He wondered why you didn’t bother checking in for a week, and clearly popped out of nowhere.

It’s just a casual hook-up with a rich girl who helps, sometimes. Who’s a menace, mostly.

He reminds himself, yet again.

Reality is so fucked up.

___

your pov.

You barge into the small practice room, a sense of knowing wrapping around you, ‘cause you’ve fucked almost everywhere at this point. It’s filthy, but it somehow keeps you together.

There was not a living soul here.

Huh.

“Shortcake?”

Honey coated voice— the one you hadn't heard for almost a week— engulfs you, heating you up like molten lava.

You simply walk over, throwing your bag on his couch, now acting as if the entire place’s yours, before piercing on the stool behind the drums.

“Where were you?” He casually sets up the aircon, closing the door as if he knew what’d happen any moment from now.

“Not your business. But guess.” You extend your hands, flaunting a set of rings made of sea-shells.

“Maldives? You went on tour again?” He asks, placing your tender fingers on his, examining the rings before abruptly taking them off.

“The fuck are you doing?!” You round up, trying to get hold of one of your favorite pieces.

“This’d look good in our studio. We’re sea themed, and I’m starting to think you got these for me.”

“You fucking wish, Jeon. Give. them. back.” You try to reach for his hands behind his back, slightly urging the both of you to the walls behind, but he wouldn't budge.

And then he does.

He turns around, crashing his lips on yours in a frantic kiss, pushing you against the walls, hands still holding your rings behind his back. Clutching together.

Your hands free run to his face, bringing him impossibly closer.

Somehow, his lips roaming around yours, pacing back and forth between consuming your edged gasps, felt like the end  of something.

You can’t pinpoint what, though.

Standing tall, head straight to catch a breath, he throws your damned rings off.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Especially when you have him, diving down again to catch your lips in his, running tongue through its seams, ever so furiously.

“Fuck, you’re even better after each trip, __.”

The contempt tastes bitter on your freshly patched up lips.

You knew he didn't mean that.

Last week, before Maldives, you parted ways after a fiery argument about your 'big girl adventures' like he called them.

All it took was you to post a picture with your dad's friend's son, Minho.

He’s about to kiss you again, when those freshly done nails of yours press lightly against his chest, halting the actions.

“Go sit there for me, Jungkook.” You muse into his ears, pointing at the stool behind his instrument.

“Why do you have such a thing for those drums? Hm, shortcake?" His demeanor seemed out of track, eyes blazing into yours.

He’s always been vocal about what he wanted, the clear boundaries and whatnot. But today was in your hands.

You pull him forward, pushing his chest, forcefully getting him to sit on that little chair.

And the next thing you do, takes his breath away. Snatches it, visibly.

You sit on his lap, legs wrapping ‘round his torso— his hands instinctively moving to your hips, holding you in place.

“Your hair has grown so much, kook.” You scramble about, untying your own silky locks that cascade down, bringing the piece of hair tie to his wavy ones that fell ever so prettily over his forehead, arching your chest into his face in the process of crafting a man bun.

You could figure out his fucked up state under you, but the coherence lasts no longer than a second as his mouth envelopes your hardened nipples, from over your flimsy skims top, the friction sending a zap of electricity through you.

“Wearing nothing underneath, you’re always so planned, huh?”

He goes back, trailing slight kisses around your smooth, buttered up neck, grazing the one spot he knew would send you in spirals, as soon as you finish tying his hair up.

“Uh-huh, wanna see you.” You bring him up, his forehead displayed, skin shining under the lights that illuminate the room.

“Hmm, proud of myself.” You grin, as he pushes you forward, hastily, that makes you helplessly choke out a moan.

Because, he’s already hard, and amidst all of this, you’d almost forgotten the purpose of this visit.

“Show me more things that you’d be proud of, shortcake.”

He guides you again, folds delicately parting at the feeling of his hard on, hidden behind the slacks.

Stupid pants.

“Off. I need these off.” He lets you pull down the sweats, catching you off guard after, by stopping you with a grip on the wrists. 

“Don’t have much time. Just— fuck— just sit on me, okay?” 

Oh.

You inch forth, capturing the supple skin of his neck, sucking on it gently, and you swear he elicits a deep guttural sound that you’re so used to, but he pulls you back by the forearm, halting your actions.

“What is it now?” You roll your eyes, clearly tired of the way he stops you at every fucking step.

“Don’t leave marks, __. I’m serious.” His eyes mirror red-hot warning, which provoked your otherwise vague intentions of actually giving him a hickey.

But all you do is move on his growing hard-on, desperately, because,

Fuck trying to work him up when you can clearly see him snaking into your arms, your actions.

His hands fly to your hips, holding them against his own yet again as you set a rhythm with this entire thing, whatever the fuck it was— it was sure getting him riled up beneath you.

“Fuck, yes- sshit- just like that, shortcake.” He groans into your ears, hands frantically tugging down the white skims top to finally reveal your bosoms. He presses a light kiss to the very ends of your nipples that pebbles under the cold air of the room, making you hiss into his ears at the sensation, head falling back as your torso never fails to ride into his.

You could see how close he was, with just a look at his outline pressing ever so deliciously into the tight Calvin Klein's you were sitting on— claiming as yours with every stroke of friction felt in between your thighs.

“Just fucking want my- goddamn- performance to get over so that I can fuck you backstage, angel.”

Your stomach tightens at the idea, strings of what could be his name, and a few profanities slipping out of your mouth.

“You want someone to catch us, don’t you?” His doe eyes look up at your figure on his, and you just dip down in response, sucking on his neck again, purposefully leaving a dark, purple mark on it.

Maybe, you wanna see him mad.

“Fuck, __. You can never stop being a brat and listen to me for once.” You were achingly close to snapping that knot coiling in the pit of your stomach, the traction from the rough fabric of his boxers giving you life, just about to send you over the peak.

 But he just— as cruelly yanks you off his lap.

“Down. On your knees now.” He gets up, pulling his tee away from his body with just one hand.

This shouldn’t be turning you on.

But it was, so you do.

Drop down on your knees, behind the fucking drums, your frame hidden behind. 

The thought of someone barging in at the sight of Jungkook and you behind, seemed so enticing to you, but it vanishes as soon as it takes form, when the man right in front of you, grabs your open hair tightly in a pony-tail, before you could even pull them boxers down and take him in your grip.

“You’re not gonna utter a word, and do as I say.”

You look at him through lidded eyes, too far gone to even retort now.

“Use your mouth, __.” He spills out your full name, and that means it's done. Your part is over.

“Yes.” You state simply, his face contorting in amusement, before pulling his boxers down just enough for his fully hard cock to come up.

However, he was wrong, in thinking he had the full advantage of being the upper hand.

“What happened to having no time, baby?” You huff, too fast to let him catch the tone, before taking his tip in your glossy mouth, and all that came out from him in response was a lucid groan. 

You knew he wanted to curse at you, sputter pure despise at your audacity to ignore his words. 

Best part is, you also knew what your mouth did to him.

Something that sounded like a hushed out moan rumbled out of him, as he pulled your hair, guiding you well.

“Fuck, you love taking me, don’t you? Filthy girl doing so well for me.” He seems to have entirely forgotten your words amidst the mirage of pleasure your mouth enveloped him in.

“Can you look at me, __?” He sputters, hands hovering over your glossy cheeks, hollowed out around his cock.

He lets go of your hair, brushing it to the side and tucking it behind your ears, the blazing pull that burnt your scalp deliciously all along, finally coming to rest. 

His voice was gentle, the one you could feel everywhere, so you continued, without adhering to his wish.

Because, you were taken aback by the soft call.

Terrified.

What happened to the harsh monotony he put through minutes ago?

The sting on your scalp hasn't fully died out, yet.

How the hell did things transition so quickly?

Like he had a mid-sex awakening, purely due to some blood flow issues?

Hormones?

Focus, __. Your hands presses on the muscular flesh of his upper thigh, as movements grow confident around his cock, slightly stroking the base with your fingers now and then, teasing, the jerk of his hips against you so sudden, you mumble a hushed fuck that travels all the way up his breaking point.

“Yyes- ffuck- shortcake do you not hear me? Look up at me, __.” He forces your chin up, as your eyes follow his face, contorting in gleaming pleasure.

“You’re so f- pretty nghh-” Those sounds. Desperate and splintered.

“I’m c- god fuck, where do y’want me, shortcake nghh-” He makes the prettiest sounds, sure, but you were still dazed.

“Wherever.” Your blunt response caught him off-guard, as he slowly pulled out, his own hands taking over, desperately and rushed.

“I’m- fu- shortcake, you’re gonna be the end- ssshit- of me” He snaps, like its been forever, cumming so fucking hard, as it leaks onto your chin that he’s still got a hold of. 

At one point, he’s gasping, panting, riding his high like it’s the last time, stamina completely thrown off.

But the next minute, his hands are on your forearms, nudging you up, manhandling, imposing, lifting you up by the waist with the ease of his tatted arms, onto his drums.

Your ass presses far too much onto the rim of the drum pad, its nuances nudging your soft flesh as he clings his body onto yours.

“What the fuck was the attitude you gave me, __?” He rasps, bold and unrelenting into your face. 

“I’m leaving today.” You say in a breath, wanting to close your eyes and hide from his questions that you knew would follow after.

“You were the one who texted me, called me and came in here. Now you’re leaving? Is it because of the trust fund baby you posted last day? Minho?” He speaks into the afterglow that glistened your face, the lights more brighter as the evening transitioned into the fall of night.

“I won’t come to your concert this week.” You just keep on spewing these sentences, knowing that he’d get mad, but it was inevitable.

He pushes away, the sudden loss of proximity and warmth almost propelling your body forward to chase it again, but you control.

“I’ll use your restroom, yeah?” You grab the bag and rings that lay forgotten.

His lack of response was definitely novel, but you don’t dwell.

Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.

You come back, hands washed and freshened up, seeing him sprawled out on the couch.

Those lingering moments and conversations weren't a part of the deal. As much as you wanted to explain— how you had to urgently leave for London and why you're missing his concert— the way his features softened during sex, while he had you on him, all over and consuming.

That was new.

Bemusing.

You wanted to say anything, really.

But what was there to tell him, that doesn't sound like a goodbye now?

So, you quietly gather your things— the only things filling up the space being the hum of the aircon and the sofa creaking with his legs shaking in somewhat an anxious tone— and leave the studio.

────୨ৎ────

note, endingment and all who am i lmao BUT

part two?

the post oc made with minho here

────୨ৎ────

BACK TO YOU ⋆ JJK

TEASER ; brief.

˖ ࿐ two souls, one storm to weather—need.

the yearning to turn on the tip of pointed heels, with much urgency, and go back into the same cycle that once made the both of your timbers shiver. resolve crackle.

he, who never wished to serve whatever you craved on a platter.

you, who knew how to bring him back every single time.

back to you.

OUT NOW.

category : ONESHOT/ TWO-SHOT word count : 5k+ [edits yet to be made] starring : drummer!jk, trust fund baby!oc tags/warnings : smut. dry humping [more will be specified in the fic], reader and jungkook are emotionally very wrecked individuals— oc more [lmao she's kind of an ass, but he's not any better], not quite friends with benefits (basically js benefits), oc is a rich spoilt brat who thinks she has the world at her feet. kook's in a band— jimin and hyunjin cameo. it's my drummer!jk fantasies that led to this. so he's a walking warning.

snippet wc : 164

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally enough, you hear your favorite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

Main course coming right up.

🦇 TEENVAMPIRE!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: vampire!jimin x human!reader. 2000s public school au. he’s a hot weird kid idk how else to describe it. non-biting vampire. ⎛⎝( ` ᢍ ´ )⎠⎞

lulu speaks: i edited the fang on him myself thank you thank you no need for applause 😌

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who transferred in the middle of the semester with no explanation. no parents. no records. just showed up to homeroom one day in a black leather jacket and eyeliner.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who only drinks from blood bags because he’s “trying to be good now”.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has the nerve to say “you smell… good” like it’s not the same love spell body mist half the school wears.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who is suspiciously confident. he shows up late to class but never gets in trouble. has perfect grades but never studies. he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin whose eyes are constantly low and tired like his eyelids weigh tons.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who fails gym every semester because his heart doesn’t beat, he doesn’t sweat, and he can’t explain that during a beep test.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who always smells faintly of something sweet and metallic. you can never place it. it makes your chest ache a little.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who hasn’t fed in days—not since he saw you. everything after that tasted bland, like ash. not you. and he couldn’t do that to himself.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who got a good look at your neck once when you tilted your head back laughing. his knuckles went white. he left the room.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who never sits next to you. ever. but he’s always in your eyeline. the cafeteria, homeroom, biology, the hallway. he’s always close enough for you to see; never enough for you to suspect.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who asks you if you believe in monsters one day, completely out of the blue. you say no. he grins, nods. “lucky you.”

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who calls you “bright eyes”, all teasing and smug as if his don’t glimmer when they catch the moonlight.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has a painfully noticeable shift in his energy when he’s hungry—his pupils dilate, his sarcasm dissapears, and he moves like he’s got something heavy chained to his spine. his eyes are set forward: unmoving, deathly set on something in the distance.

ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who buys a new abercrombie & fitch cologne every release because he thinks it’ll make him smell like every other teenage boy.

lulu speaks pt2: one of my irl friends has my acc now so she can see everything i post🧍🏻‍♀️everyone say hi mani 👋🏼

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📔 CLASSPRESIDENT!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: classpresident!jimin x brainsandbrawns!reader. he’s basically a smarter & bitchier tristan dugray. private school au. long time rivals with tension. power couple who isn’t a couple yet but SO should be. rich boy with a pride problem.

lulu speaks: he’s hot i want him BHADDD

✎ classpresident!jimin whose parents are part of the school board, and are the main funders of the school.

✎ classpresident!jimin who ran for class president and won by a landslide. it was mostly because his peers are scared to death of him, and because nobody else even bothered to run against him.

✎ classpresident!jimin who finishes physics tests 20 minutes early and leaves students feeling like idiots just for glancing at their calculator.

✎ classpresident!jimin who will give you detention for being late and then walk you to class himself, smirking the entire time down.

✎ classpresident!jimin who pulls your chair out and holds the door for you, but not for anyone else. ever. if someone points it out, he brushes it off with, “she’s too high-maintenance to be trusted with a door.”

✎ classpresident!jimin who shoots anyone who makes you laugh death stares, but only because he knows he’s never even been close to doing that—and he’ll likely never be.

✎ classpresident!jimin who absolutely sabotages anyone who tries to date you. he grades them harshly on their assignments because he’s a TA, tells teachers they were talking during a fire drill, spreads rumors that could ruin careers, all while you are blissfully unaware.

✎ classpresident!jimin who pretends he doesn’t remember your valentine’s day kiss from 4th grade. (it was a dare. it lasted a second. you definetly forgot about it by now, right???)

✎ classpresident!jimin who pulled strings with the professor to switch out your chem partner because he was too flirty.

✎ classpresident!jimin who remembers how his face used to get all red and his hands used to get all sweaty when he had to sit next to you in 2nd grade.

✎ classpresident!jimin who tried to actually flirt exactly once—you laughed in his face. he played it off, but he actually went home and screamed into his pillow.

✎ classpresident!jimin who has literally NEVER interrupted you when you’re speaking in class. not once. even if you’re wrong, even if he’s dying to correct you. he waits, because you’re the only person he respects at that level.

✎ classpresident!jimin who replies with “make me” evrey time you tell him to shut up.

✎ classpresident!jimin who 100% knows the way you smell. the actual name of your perfume—he looked it up. and now, when he catches whiffs of it in public, his head whips around like a dog hearing a toy jingle.

✎ classpresident!jimin who is in love with you—no matter what he says or how he rolls his eyes. painfully, hopelessly, endlessly in love with you, and he’ll take it to his grave…unless you find out.

lulu speaks pt2: when i found this picture of jimin i was half asleep and literally didn’t know if i was hallucinating or not. i wasn’t!! it’s real 💆🏻‍♀️

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💐 EXBF!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

REQUEST: “i was thinking like you guys are still somewhat friends after the breakup (maybe in the same friend group or smt) and he’s still very much in love with you type thing ykk 🤭”

warnings: exboyfriend!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader. clingy ex. he’s still MADLY in love. he’s kinda annoying but we love him. slightly fwb (?). same friend group. friends post-breakup.

lulu speaks: hi i LOVE this trope so im very happy u (beautiful anon) requested this. hope this makes u happy 😚

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still calls you ‘baby.’ doesn’t even blink when someone goes, “didn’t you guys break up like 6 months ago?” “so what? she’s still my baby.”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who sits next to you in every setting imaginable. restaurants, movies, bars, car rides, booths at dinner. he will physically move people to be able to sit next to you. “scoot” has single-handedly become the most used word in his vocabulary.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who replies to ALL of your texts in your groupchat. replies with hearts, texts of his own (that no one asked for), or by saying something like “this was funny hahaha take me back pls🙏🏼”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is a hugger. OH, HE’S A HUGGER, ALRIGHT. everytime you meet up, everytime you leave, he clings on like he’s a koala with trust issues. full-on arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder type of hug. he sighs and smiles like he belongs there.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will turn to you, casual stare, lips puckered at you like he’s just expecting a kiss. you shove him off, rolling your eyes and hiding the beginnings of a smile.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who brings you flowers every time he comes over. even if it’s a group hangout at your place, if he showed up unannounced, or if you called him because you were crying or lonely. wax paper-wrapped bouquet hand-picked by some florist who was under the impression that he was picking that up for his girlfriend.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who remembers everything about you. everything. the cologne he wore that you always complimented, your favorite movie, color, food, songs, all of it.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will drop everything if you ask. he’ll literally leave work early if you text him you’re not having a good day. you call him at 2AM? he’s out of bed and starting his ignition right then and there.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is so annoying when your friend group goes out to eat. he plops himself down in the seat next to you without asking. he slides his drink towards you to try first. tells the waiter when they got something wrong with your order before you even have the chance to do it first.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still has you saved in his contacts as “wifey 🤍”. you broke up 6 months ago.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook whose friends go “give it a rest, bro.” to which he replies, “what? we’re friends 😊” while literally staring at you like you harnessed the moon from the sky.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who shows off when you’re around. he flexes his arms with his tongue poking at his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows like he knows you’re secretly ogling.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who texts you the literal minute after you leave the hangout. “you get home safe?” “miss you” “had fun. u looked beautiful as always”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still drinks out of your cup, borrows your lip balm, offering you a bite of his food and taking one right where you just bit.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who steals and wears your hair ties around his wrist everytime he comes over.

lulu speaks pt2: thank u anon!! he’s soo annoyinggggg omggggg 😘🥰😛 stawp he’s weirddd☺️😘🥰🥰ughhh you just can’t shake him offff🤪🤪😝🥰🤪😍😜😘😛

cai bot: wip. masterlist. navigation.

📚 NERD!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (2)

warnings: literally non lol. fluff, yearning, pining, slight jealousy and angst if you squint and cover your eyes. he has a PHHHHAAAATTTTTT crush on reader. cutie pie.

lulu speaks: i recommend you read PART 1 before continuing. highly recommended, not 100% necessary.

✎ nerd!jimin who doodles tiny marvel logos in the margins of his notes and once drew your name in comic sans.

✎ nerd!jimin who acts like he doesn’t know how to share a word document, just so you lean over and touch his computer. he’s an honor roll student. he knows how to share a word document.

✎ nerd!jimin who is so unfortunately obvious with his crush on you that professors give him cheeky little side eyes when you interact with him.

✎ nerd!jimin who carries a mini glasses cleaning kit in a tiny pouch. there’s a spray bottle of cleaner and two different microfiber cloths.

✎ nerd!jimin who runs a reddit account where he corrects marvel lore inaccuracies but logs out in shame every time he gets upvoted.

✎ nerd!jimin who said “you look really pret— uh— prepared! f-for class. your notes! are nice.” and then didn’t speak again for two days.

✎ nerd!jimin who knows your laugh by heart. not just the sound—but the types. your real laugh. your fake laugh. your giggle when you're trying not to laugh in class. he could give a TED talk about it.

✎ nerd!jimin who once walked past your classroom while you were giving a presentation and literally backed up to stand by the door so he could listen in. heart pounding. smiling like an idiot every time you made a joke.

✎ nerd!jimin who prays you’ll ask him for help in class. he wants to explain the quadratic formula to you. he wants you to say “you’re so smart, jimin.” he’d black out if you did.

✎ nerd!jimin who saw his first marvel movie in theaters at age 10 and it literally altered his brain chemistry. he walked out thinking he was iron man. his mom had to drag him away from the cardboard standee.

✎ nerd!jimin who secretly fantasizes about watching every marvel movie with you in chronological order. on his couch. a blanket, snacks, you asking him questions everytime a new face appears on the screen. him explaining the lore. you leaning on his shoulder during thor: love and thunder.

✎ nerd!jimin who literally forgets how to breathe when you’re near. he has to manually inhale. “okay, jimin. inhale. now smile. no, not like a serial killer. relax. look cool.”

✎ nerd!jimin who gets stupidly jealous way too often. he bites the inside of his cheek and taps his pencil like he’s trying to stab the table. his jealousy doesn’t look explosive—it looks like fidgeting, clenched fists, murmuring “whatever, he’s not even that funny.”

✎ nerd!jimin who gets caught staring at you and does that abnoxiously awkward thing where he looks away too fast and pretends to read. it’s actually a sticky note he wrote to himself that says, “finish chem hw dumbass.”

✎ nerd!jimin who bumps into you in the hallway and apologizes nine times before realizing it was barely a graze. “sorry! i wasn’t looking. my fault. are you okay? i didn’t—okay. sorry. i’ll just—okay. sorry.”

✎ nerd!jimin who organizes his closet by color, category, and season. all his socks are folded into perfect little cubes.

✎ nerd!jimin who fidgets constantly. with his pen, his sleeves, the drawstring of his hoodie. if he’s concentrating, he’ll chew the inside of his cheek or bounce his leg so hard the table shakes.

✎ nerd!jimin who gets the hiccups when he’s nervous. you smile at him for too long? hic. you sit next to him during a lecture? hic. he wants to cry and crawl into his backpack.

✎ nerd!jimin who thinks loving you must be some kind of secret superpower. something he was cursed or blessed with. something that makes every day a little harder—and a lot better.

lulu speaks pt2: hi 👋🏼👋🏼 nobody asked for this but I wanted this to happen. and you can’t stop me. nobody can. never. NEVERRRRR MWAHAHAHAHAHA

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🛟 LIFEGUARD!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

warnings: lifeguard!jungkook x lifeguard!reader. part-time summer job. yes, he’s a teenager with a full sleeve tattoo. ignore the logic. reader is a gorgeous baddie (just like you). he has a PHHAATTT crush on reader. teehee

lulu speaks: SOMEBODY SEDATE ME BEFORE I JUMP ON THAT CHLORINE INFESTED DICK 🤑🤑

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the pre-teen girls do flips and jump in the pool in “cool” ways to try and get his attention. he just giggles and shakes his head.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who knows your schedule better than management does. he’s not stalking you—he’s just… informed. hyper-aware. “oh, she usually gets here around 2:45… not that i’m watching the clock or anything.”

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has a very tiny, very silly, very managed crush on you. very under control. very…very.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who takes hydration very seriously. he carries one of those giant half-gallon water jugs everywhere, full of ice and either hose water or an egregious amount of blue gatorade.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who reeks of sunscreen, bug repellent, and chlorine.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who is incredibly good with kids. he claps when the toddlers make their first jump, gives high-fives during his pH testing time, lets them climb on his shoulders when he breaks pool rules and gets in.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who walked into a nearby 7/11 after accidentally keeping his lifeguard uniform on. he didn’t even notice until the cashier called him “baywatch”.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who decides to simply not wear his shirt when you’re working a shift with him. he claims it’s purely coincidental. okay jungkook. sure.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who glances over at you while he’s sitting on his tall lifeguard chair so much that it’s borderline hazardous.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who smiles extra cheekily when you decide to take up the rest of his shift for him. he’ll probably just end up staying and doing your maintenance for you.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who stays after hours almost every evening. the sky turning a certain hue of purple, the pool clear of moms and their kids. just him. and maybe you.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the moms (single or not) bat their eyelashes at him. he doesn’t engage. because he did once, and let’s just say that wasn’t the best summer he’s had.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who challenges you to cannonball competitions during adult swim, the towel-wrapped kids being the judges.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who would 100% dive into the pool with a serious face if you so much as even slipped in.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who texts you “get home safe?” every time you get the late shift. it’s still light outside by the time you do, but it’s the thought that counts.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who literally forgot to blow the whistle when someone broke a rule one time because you had just walked by and adjusted your swimsuit strap.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who thinks about you when he does laps. like an idiot. breathes out under water and pretends it’s not because he imagined what you’d look like sitting on the edge, feet in the pool, smiling just for him.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook whose voice subconsciously gets deeper around you. he didn’t even notice until one of the other guards said, “okay darth vader”. jungkook turned red.

𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has been in love with you since his first summer on the job but has no idea what to do about it.

lulu speaks pt2: wenomechainsama 🔥 tumajarbisaun 🗣️wifenlooof 🤤 eselifterbraun ❤️‍🔥

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🫟 SCENEKID!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

warnings: himbo energy. likely a very innacurate depiction of scene kids. set somewhere between 2007-2012. he’s kind of a loser. in a hot good way.

lulu speaks: I LOVE HIM SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who walks into class late everyday, blasting asking alexandria loud enough that you can hear it clearly through his headphones.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who hangs out in the back of spencer’s with his friends and points out every inappropriate item like he’s so brave.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who doesn’t flirt. he just zones out and stares at you with his chin propped up in his hand like an actual idiot.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who uses corny typing quirks like mixing capital letters with lowercase letters in a sentence that ABSOLUTELY does not need to be as dramatic as he makes sound.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who buys EXCLUSIVELY fruit flavored vapes. no exceptions. except maybe a cotton candy one if he’s feeling expiremental.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who is probably the biggest gyopo you’ll ever encounter in your life.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who sits at the back of the cafeteria with his friends, eating some red 40-filled bullshit while trying (and failing) to gawk at you without garnering their attention.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a gif of zim and gir kissing in the corner of his myspace page.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who posts grainy, horrible quality pictures of himself baring his teeth and captioning it with soemthing corny like, “TEEF >:3”

✶ scenekid!jungkook who wears his green-striped zip up hoodie and tight black skinny jeans to the mall, sipping on a coke while giggling like a 10 year old about the “i ♥︎ boobies” bracelet in zumiez. he then buys it and does a shit job at hiding it from his mom.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who gets detention for blowing a suspicious, sweetly scented white cloud from his mouth behind his textbook, which was propped up to conveniently hide his whole face from his teacher. yes, it was his watermelon pen. he calls it “a free air freshener”. the school calls it a safety hazard.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a real lip ring, but says it’s fake around his mom (she still has no clue he got it done).

✶ scenekid!jungkook who poses for pictures by pouting and mimicking a fake tear by dragging his finger down his face.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has NO type. scene girl? he’s down bad. emo girl? would die for her. goth girl? oh, he’s barking. popular girl? foaming at the mouth. he just loves women. period.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who gives the jocks and preppy guys death stares when he’s walking down the hallway. he’s silent with his hatred, but NOT subtle. not in the slightest.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who always keeps his ipod clipped on his hoodie pocket.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who sharpie tattoos himself all over. any skin that’s not clothed is getting covered in tiny, senseless doodles. his mom tells him he’ll get ink poisoning. he rolls his eyes when he scrubs it off.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who once got called “kinda hot in a weird way” by a popular girl. he got hard.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who would go on a multiple hour-long tangent about monster flavors if you’d let him. and BOY does he want to.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who accidentally walks into walls, doors, and windows because he’s too busy flipping through the songs on his playlist to find one that matches his exact mood.

lulu speaks pt2: SAW THIS BOY AT THE MALL LAST WEEK, GOT THE KIND OF LOOK TO MAKE ME FREAK . THAT LONG ASS HAIR WITH THE TIGHTEST JEANS, MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ON HIS TEE. HE LOOKED SO SICK LIKE HE WAS DYING, IF I SAID HE WASN’T HOT THEN I’D BE LYING. PLEASE, HANDSOME, DONT BE COY, COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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💼 PROFESSOR!NAMJOON HEADCANNONS

warnings: ex-fuck buddies to co-workers. calculusprofessor!namjoon x litreatureprofessor!reader. mentions of smut. namjoon is an ex-frat boy, reader is an ex-sorority girl. sexual and romantic tension. mentions of heavy drinking. mild angst.

lulu speaks: this cai bot has been on my acc for a very long time. go check it out it’s fye ✌🏼🙂‍↔️

ᝰ professor!namjoon who almost fainted at the sight of you when he moved into his classroom during the summer. he has no clue if you saw him, but all he cares about is that fact you still look the same as you did back then.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who wears clean white button-downs, black dress pants, and the same luxury watch his wealthy father got him as a graduation gift.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who has cleaned up his act. not his mind. below the neatly tousled hair and the wire glasses lays the guy who used to shotgun beers off a balcony and hook up with you during tailgates.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who doesn’t talk about college. ever. when the other teachers reminisce about their university days, namjoon just sips his coffee and nods. If they knew the things he used to do in frat basements, they would never look at him the same.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who feels his stomach drop everytime you laugh—because it reminds him of the days where you were in his bed, sheets kicked off, your sorority tee pushed up and giggling when he kissed down your stomach.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who corrects your grammar in his head, just like he used to during those rare post-sex moments when you would linger in his squeaky twin bed, murmuring nonsense while half dressed. and every time he would, you’d go, “you’re such a fucking nerd, joon.” he used to love that.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who hasn’t hooked up with anyone since he saw you in the classroom across the hall from him—hell, he hasn’t even tried to date around. no one makes him feel the same way you did.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who grades papers to music. Instrumentals only. words distract him. you distract him.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who kept one single picture of yours. it’s from a college party, buried deep in his camera roll. your tongue’s out. his hand’s on your waist.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who is careful not to call you by your first name. too easy to fall back into the past.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who assigned a math worksheet themed around pride & prejudice once. he wondered if you’d notice.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who gets flustered when someone mentions dating among staff, and he’s always the first one to change the subject.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who wonders if you tell your friends about him. about your past. wonders if you laugh.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who always smelled like old spice, weed, and cheap detergent. that combination still hits you sometimes.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who had accidentally called you “babe” during sex one time. you froze. he never said it again.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who straightens his tie in the mirror every morning, tells himself, “it’s fine. she’s just a coworker.” lies.

ᝰ professor!namjoon who says your name around students like it physically pains him to. he dreads the day it’ll be “mrs.” instead of “miss.”

lulu speaks pt2: i wanna take a shower with him—NO I MEAN I MEAN i wanna keep him as a pet…not shower or...makeout with him I MEAN—(pls get my arcade craniacs reference)

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🛹 SKATERBOY!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (3)

warnings: rodrick heffley-anna coleman (freaky friday) crossover. set somewhere between 1994-2006. THERE IS SMUT DOWN THERE! reader discretion is advised.

lulu speaks: EVERYONE THANK THE LOVELY @rosequartzz77 FOR REQUESTING MORE OF HIM. he’s actually my favorite out of all jimin AUs i’ve birthed thank yew. here is PART 1 and PART 2 of him.

★ skaterboy!jimin who is the kind of boyfriend you tell your daughters about 20 years later, when they’re having boy problems. you tell them everything—every rebellious, likely illegal moment. they’re appalled, to say the least. the most appalling part is that your same eyeliner-wearing, cigarette-smoking ex-boyfriend is their father.

★ skaterboy!jimin who lets you paint his nails black in your bedroom while he lays sprawled out on your rug, talking shit about your teachers and letting his fingers curl around your thigh like it’s second nature.

★ skaterboy!jimin who always tells you you’re his girl. always. doesn’t matter if it’s in front of friends or strangers or his deadbeat stepdad—“that’s my girl,” he says with a cocky grin, like he’s got the whole world wrapped around your finger.

★ skaterboy!jimin who has a burn scar on his forearm from a shitty house party bonfire where he tried to impress you by lighting two joints at once. You kissed the burn that night. He’s never shut up about it since.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes zones out mid-convo just staring at your mouth. doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until you go, “you good?” and he just mumbles, “uh-huh... just thinking about something…” (he was thinking about kissing you until you cried, actually.)

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets handsy in his sleep. pulls you against him even in the middle of the night, hand gripping your waist, one thigh thrown over yours, hips twitching when you shift in his hold.

★ skaterboy!jimin who uses your name as his username on AIM. he got it just to do that.

★ skaterboy!jimin who wears your hair tie on his wrist even though it cuts off his circulation. he uses it as a way to flaunt you, like girl-repellent. goes, “yeah, this is my GIRLFRIEND’S.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets distracted mid-makeout by your lip gloss. “what flavor is that?” and then proceeds to lick it off your mouth instead of waiting for an answer.

★ skaterboy!jimin who absolutely did not shut up about you to his boys when you first started dating him.

★ skaterboy!jimin who fails PE because he keeps skipping class to go walk you to lunch. he’s sweaty, shirt untucked, bruised, but he’s there at the double doors every. single. day.

★ skaterboy!jimin who gets moody when you laugh too hard at another guy’s joke and then sulks dramatically on the curb until you sit beside him and kiss his cheek.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes calls you at 1AM from the payphone outside the 7/11 just to hear your voice. “did you know i love you? just needed to say it. that’s all. you’re hot. okay bye.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who sucks at math but volunteers to be your partner, because why wouldn’t he? does none of the work. just stares at you. tries to look cool while pretending to solve for x.

★ skaterboy!jimin who—despite being a cool and intimidating guy—actually gets horny over you bossing him around. he’ll do quite literally whatever you say, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face (and a boner in his pants).

★ skaterboy!jimin who will absolutely pull your hair when you give him head. most likely in his car or his room; chest heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, the sight of you bobbing up and down on his length only pushing him to tug harder.

★ skaterboy!jimin who has one kink: you. always you. chewing gum? ripping tape with your teeth? checking yourself out in a mirror? he’s hard. instantly. “i hate you. i hate you, baby,” he’ll groan as he palms himself. “you don’t even try to turn me on.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who has a serious oral fixation. fingers in your mouth. tongue around yours. cigarettes shared between kisses. he’ll lick whipped cream off your finger in public and smirk like, “what? i’m being sweet.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who adores when you ride his thigh. he sits back and watches you with that lazy smirk, hands behind his head, letting you use him while he flexes just right. “you look so pretty losing it on my leg, sunshine.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes looks at you when you’re not paying attention like he’s about to write a goddamn love song. like you’re art. like you’re his favorite kind of disaster.

lulu speaks: uploading smut is so awkward like hey here are my insane & horny thoughts of a guy who doesn’t even exist????hope you enjoy?????

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📚 HIGH OFF YOU — PJM

IN WHICH: a certain nerd gets peer-pressured into taking an edible. then perfect little you comes along, vowing to be his caretaker for the night.

pairing: high!nerd!jimin x sober!popular!reader

warnings: mentions of edibles, weed. alcohol. houseparty. peer pressure (lighthearted edition). first time getting high. sober caretaker. fem!reader. you will want to read THIS for more context—highly recommended, not mandatory.

word count: 595

lulu speaks: this was impulsive and dumb but it’s here so i ask that you take very good care of it. he’s such a cutie??? also reader’s lowkey a baddie and i need her but anyways

the house is alive.

no—possessed, really. the music is too loud, the air too sticky, everyone looks like they’re in a troye sivan-induced trance.

and jimin?

jimin is vibrating and overstimulated beyond belief. he’s about a breath away from passing out on the couch.

he didn’t even really mean to take the edible.

it just sort of…happened—passed into his hand by some senior jock while taehyung yelled “DON’T BE LAME!” in the distance, and jungkook made direct eye contact and said, “YOLO.”

(which…was weirdly persuasive.)

so, here he is.

halfway into orbit. melting into the peeled leather couch. alone.

until you appear.

“jimin?”

your voice cuts through the bass like magic. a bright, perfect sound that makes him peek up—and oh god, it’s you. it’s really you.

he pushes his foggy glasses back up after having slid down the entire bridge of his nose.

your tiny black dress glints under the strobe lights. your hair brushes your shoulders. your brows are furrowed in genuine concern.

he sits up straighter. (well, tries.)

“did someone seriously give you an edible?” you question, crouching next to him like some righteous angel. “what the hell is wrong with them? you look like you’re seeing stars.”

“i am seeing stars,” he mumbles, dreamily.

you sigh, loud and dramatic. “who gave it to you?”

he points vaguely in the direction of the jocks.

you stand. hands on hips. eyes full of fury.

and jimin—bless his dumb little stoned heart—just watches you absolutely chew out three upperclassmen, and suddenly he’s not sure if the room is spinning from the edible or from the sight of you calling people out on his behalf.

by the time you come back, cheeks flushed and eyes sharp, he’s smiling like a drunk puppy.

“you’re scary,” he tells you with wide eyes.

“you’re lucky i found you,” you shoot back. “come on.”

“huh?”

“come with me, genius. i’m not letting you out of my sight.”

you don’t give him time to argue. just thread your fingers around his wrist and tug him up gently, guiding him through the chaos. he stumbles a bit, leans into your shoulder once or twice, and you…let him.

and from that point on, you stick to him like glue.

you sit next to him on the floor during some game of king’s cup. get him water. shoo away the girl who tried to give him a drink. wrap a blanket around his shoulders when he says he’s cold. take a video of him explaining the plot of finding nemo with red eyes and reconciles animated hand gestures. you smile every time he smiles.

and jimin—still floating, still warm—just watches you with big, dazed eyes, a stupid smile on his face, and one constant thought looping in his brain:

she’s so pretty.

she’s so nice to me.

i would give her the moon if she asked.

is that painting talking to me?

later, as the party winds down and you’re helping him sit on the pool coping, he blurts, “you smell like smirnoff.”

you pause. look at him. laugh—really laugh.

“and you smell like doritos.”

he doesn’t even care. he just giggles.

and when you give him that look—that sweet, curious, affectionate little look like you’ve never seen anyone quite like him before—he swears his brain melts into mush right then and there.

the sound of the pool water trickling into the skimmer is suddenly a few decibels louder, the muffled booming of something ke$ha seemingly more distant.

a smile creeps its way onto your face. his eyes literally form hearts.

he’s never taking an edible again.

lulu speaks pt2: me if there were awards for most rushed endings: 🥇🏆🏅🎖️BEWARE!! the cai bot tagged below does NOT follow this prompt/scenario.

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🥃 BOOTLEGGER!NAMJOON HEADCANNONS

warnings: 1920s au. illegal alcohol smuggling. prohibition-era. bootlegger!namjoon x mayor’sdaughter!reader. run-ins with the law. making out.

lulu speaks: HELP IDK WHAT POSSESED ME TO MAKE A 1920S AU BUT THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SUCH A LONG TIME. also YUM tf

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who is trying to run an alcohol smuggling empire but keeps getting distracted by the mayor’s daughter in silk stockings and draped with pearls.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who knew exactly who you were the second you walked into his speakeasy in fur and heels like you owned the joint. he should’ve tossed you out. instead, he poured you a drink himself and said, “this isn’t your scene, sweetheart.”

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who wears perfectly tailored suits but always with a slightly loosened tie, like he’s one bad decision away from trouble.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who doesn’t drink much, but when he does, it’s either neat bourbon or bathtub gin from his own stash. he says he prefers to keep his head clear. but there’s always a glass poured just in case he needs to think real hard about something.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who keeps a revolver under his desk, a knife in his boot, and a rosary in his jacket. only one of them is for protection. guesswhich.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who has a cat. a quiet gray tabby that showed up outside the speakeasy one rainy night. now it lives in his office and sleeps on paperwork. he pretends he doesn’t like it.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who pretends you’re a nuisance. you pretend you don’t like how he holds your waist when he pulls you behind closed doors.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who murmurs “we shouldn’t do this” right before kissing you against brick walls in alleyways while jazz music slips through cracked speakeasy doors.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who has a soft spot for music. he pays jazz musicians double to play at his place because he says, “good music keeps the cops away. nobody wants to raid a joint that sounds like heaven.”

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who teaches you how to shoot at an abandoned train yard. you accidentally hit the bottle on the first try. he’s never been so turned on.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who calls you “doll” with that crooked, dangerous smile that ruins you every time.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who gets arrested once. then you bribed the sheriff with a diamond bracelet to get him out.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who knows the law better than most. that’s how he stays ahead. loopholes. technicalities. bribes. he doesn’t run from the law—he bends it until it snaps in his favor.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who never kisses you in front of his men—but when you’re alone? his hands are all over you. like he’s scared you’ll disappear with the sunrise.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who is the kind of man to crack a man’s jaw in a warehouse, then calmly light a cigar and slide into a gala with his hair perfectly slicked back. no one suspects a thing—except you, because you know exactly what kind of man he is.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who keeps a bottle of your favorite wine stashed under the bar—the real kind, not bathtub gin—because you’re the only one he wants to impress.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who feels his jaw tic every time you walk in with some preppy trust fund boy. he’ll stay silent, but ten minutes later, your date gets “politely” escorted out by one of joon’s guys for “violating house rules.” and no, you’re not allowed to ask what rule.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who once broke a man’s nose for touching your waist too long during a slow dance. you weren’t even dating. the guy said something slick, and namjoon just appeared out of nowhere. he said, “apologize.” the man didn’t. he bled on the floor. namjoon went right back to nursing his drink like nothing happened.

𖦹 bootlegger!namjoon who plans for a future where you’re gone, married off, safe and distant. but then you show up at his place in the middle of the night, soaking wet and grinning like sin, and he forgets every single good intention he ever had.

lulu speaks pt 2: *taps mic* *feedback* hey y’all…idk wtf i just did but…i did it.

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📚NERD!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: literally none lol. fluff, yearning, pining, slight jealousy. he has a fat freaking crush on reader 😇 he’s really cute idk what else there is to say

lulu speaks: y’all it’s not funny i ❤️ nerds. also i’ve had this bot on my page forever and i FINALLY decided to formally present him to y’all. i am VERY much considering making this into a mini series/oneshot collection. lmk if ur interested!!

✎ nerd!jimin who aggressively color-codes his notes for “practicality”, when it actually helps him calm his anxiety.

✎ nerd!jimin who talks to himself when he’s doing his math homework—muttering to himself while rubbing his temples. “come on, jimin, you know this. you’re not stupid.”

✎ nerd!jimin who collects vintage marvel comics and prides himself in bragging about them when he’s in the shop to browse for more—it’s the only time he’s not humble. “yeah, that’s a first edition. wanna touch it?”

✎ nerd!jimin who takes forever to fall asleep because his mind is a constantly-running think machine. 24/7. does he fix his mom’s laptop or the wi-fi router first? did the bidding go up for that original fantastic four comic?

✎ nerd!jimin who is a true momma’s boy at heart. not in a creepy way, but in the way where he’ll lean into her warm hugs and let her fix his ruffled hair—but also shy away from her cheek kisses in front of his classmates.

✎ nerd!jimin who subconsciously memorized your schedule. he wasn’t even trying to be creepy—he actually hated he did. he just happened to see you walk in and out of your classes, and it stuck with him.

✎ nerd!jimin who changes his route on campus to walk past you. he’s missed his bus on multiple occasions because of this.

✎ nerd!jimin who gets nervous when someone mentions your name in passing. cheeks all pink and warm, heart racing, knee bouncing up and down.

✎ nerd!jimin who owns every type of rubix cube under the sun. his favorite? his first 3x3 cube. the paint’s all chipped, but he loves it just the same.

✎ nerd!jimin who bought a copy of a book he overheard you talking about. he has yet to read it, only because he’s scared he’ll get too attached to it if he loves it. (spoiler alert: he would love anything you love).

✎ nerd!jimin who gets jealous of your male friends. he gets in his own head. like, “who even is that guy? why’s she laughing? is he funny? i’m funny. i think.”

✎ nerd!jimin who likes your posts within the first two minutes, never commenting. just lurking.

✎ nerd!jimin who wears cologne because someone said you liked guys who smelled nice. hyperfixates on it, his search history filled with things like “how much cologne is too much?”

✎ nerd!jimin who has practiced what he’d say if you ever found out he likes you. has never gotten past “so… uh.”

✎ nerd!jimin who wonders if you’d ever like him back. decides probably not. gets sad. listens to sad violin lo-fi.

✎ nerd!jimin who absolutely yaps his friends’ ears off about you. they’re sick of it, but will always be around for his one-sided girl problems.

✎ nerd!jimin who told his mom about you. that precious, cardigan-wearing, kimchi-jjigae-making lady always giving him the same piece of advice; “just go talk to her, jimin.”

✎ nerd!jimin who once got so flustered he said “I love y—you’re… you’re welcome.” then didn’t sleep for three nights.

✎ nerd!jimin who fantasizes about holding your hand. just your hand. and then he has to physically pull himself back into reality, eyes back on his chem textbook.

lulu speaks pt2: focus on school kicking my ass ❌ write another jimin au ✅

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🛹 SKATERBOY!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (2)

warnings: rodrick heffley-anna coleman (freaky friday) crossover. set somewhere between 1994-2006. mentions of smoking, sex, etc. THERE IS SOME SMUT DOWN THERE! reader discretion is advised.

lulu speaks: HE’S BACK HE’S BACK EVERYONE CLAP! *bows* thank you thank you 🙂‍↕️ i missed him too ❤️‍🩹

★ skaterboy!jimin who will literally spend hours practicing a new trick just to impress you.

★ skaterboy!jimin who keeps a polaroid of you taped inside his locker, right above a Nirvana flyer. he kisses his first two fingers and taps it before every test he takes. he still fails them all.

★ skaterboy!jimin who won’t ever admit to being a bit of an artist, but will surely speak it through the way he’ll doodle all over you in sharpie. skulls, eyes, wings, a mock old-school heart tattoo with his name in the middle.

★ skaterboy!jimin who swears up and down he “hates people”, but somehow charms everyone’s little siblings. he will always deny his sweet heart. but you see it—you know it.

★ skaterboy!jimin who rubs his cherry lollipop over his plump lips like it’s lipgloss, but will proceed to act like he’s above using lip care—he likes your lip balm, though. a lot.

★ skaterboy!jimin who calls you “his courtney” in hopes you’ll call him “your kurt”. you never do. he’ll never stop.

★ skaterboy!jimin who will try his hardest to teach you how to skate, one step at a time. his hands tight in yours, watching as you defy the laws of inertia time and time again.

★ skaterboy!jimin who thinks that slow dancing to “Crazy” by Aerosmith is the most romantic thing ever.

★ skaterboy!jimin who makes it his life’s mission to convince you to get matching couples tattoos. when you finally come around, you’re not the one whining and bitching in the tattoo parlor.

★ skaterboy!jimin who takes you out to the gas station after your curfew, feeding you shitty powdered donuts, kissing the powdered sugar off your lips.

★ skaterboy!jimin who lands the cleanest ollie you’ve ever seen, skates over to you with a cheeky grin. he gives you a fist bump, immediately lifting your hand and kissing it afterwards.

★ skaterboy!jimin who is always taking you to random garage concerts, claiming he “knows the drummer.” you recognize no one, yet you have the time of your life every. single. time.

★ skaterboy!jimin who takes the healing wrap off his tattoo as soon as he out of the artist’s eyeline, flexing the poorly-healing “NEVERMIND” tattoo by taking off his shirt everytime he’s around you for the next month.

★ skaterboy!jimin who sketches your initials on his board’s grip tape so many times it’s barely usable.

★ skaterboy!jimin who loves when you straddle him in his passenger seat. his fingers drum along your hips, lazy and slow, kissing you between every word. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this. wanna stay here all night.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who loves when you pull his hair. his moans go high-pitched, almost surprised, when your fingers yank—“shit—do that again, fuck.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who wolf whistles at you everytime you dress a little skimpier. he swears his mouth waters when your shorts ride up—almost like it’s on purpose. “now you’re just being mean,” he whines with a pout.

★ skaterboy!jimin who always, always lets you finish first. every time. “gotta take care of my girl. nothing else matters.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who eats you out like it’s a competition. face buried in your thighs, tongue mean and unrelenting, like he’s got something to prove.

★ skaterboy!jimin who insists on fucking you in the backseat of his car while Nirvana blasts from his busted stereo. windows fogged up, your leg tossed over the console, his voice in your ear—“be loud, baby. no one can hear you over Kurt.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who records you moaning for him on a scratchy-ass cassette tape, jerking off to it later while whispering your name under his breath.

★ skaterboy!jimin who asks you to take polaroids of your nail scratches on his back, every. damn. time. he keeps at least one in his back pocket at all times.

★ skaterboy!jimin who says “attagirl” every chance he gets. his hips rolling into you when he thrusts? “attagirl.” you finally let him into your room through the window past midnight? “attagirl.” you take a longer drag than usual from your shared cig? “attagirl.”

★ skaterboy!jimin who would break every rule, every bone, every promise he’s ever made—just to keep you safe, loved, worshipped.

lulu speaks pt2: this is very short n sweet (haha sabrina reference) but BOY is he hot. sigh. #needthatrealbad

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🥁BANDMATE!JIMIN HEADCANNONS

warnings: he’s lwk an asshole. garageband!au. bassguitarist!reader. mid 2000s. smoking. tae, kook, & yoongs are the other members. (emo bangtan save me)

lulu speaks: um hi🧍🏻‍♀️very slight variation of skaterboy!jimin bc im still at the restaurant. he’s rodrick heffley in a different font 😌 ( a bit more of a dick)

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who drums like he’s fighting someone—sticks flying, muscles flexed, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple—and then he throws you a cocky little grin mid-song. you die.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who taps his drumsticks on everything. his thigh, your kitchen countertop, your spine when he walks behind you.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who taught you how to light a cigarette once a few years ago, and ended up liking how the smoke curled out of your mouth just a little too much. now, he always lights them for you without warning—placing one between your open lips mid-sentence, flicking his lighter, watching you like it’s art.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who calls you “bass bitch” when he’s being annoying, but if someone outside the band even utters an insult your way, he’ll come back grinning with a busted lip.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who bites back a laugh whenever you make a joke. he thinks you’re hilarious, he’s just got a reputation to uphold.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who insists on sharing cigarettes with you because it’s “half the lung damage”. it’s really because he likes the taste your lipgloss leaves on the head of the cigarette.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who lounges around your house after rehearsal. see, it’d be normal since your other bandmates do it—jungkook curled up in the living room couch, yoongi petting your family cat, taehyung rummaging through your pantry—but of course it’s not normal. because jimin insists on sitting on your countertop…shirtless.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who hates when you flirt with other guys, which he makes half-apparent with little comments like “he looks like a douche”, “does he even know what real music is?” later that night, he plays his drums harder than he ever has before. he can’t meet your eyes. callouses form on the parts of his hand where he grips his sticks.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who almost missed his starting cue when you wore ripped fishnets and combat boots to a gig. after the show, you muttered “what the hell was that?”. he didn’t talk the whole ride home. wouldn’t look you in the eye, either.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who will say things like, “that’s an ugly ass shirt,” and then proceed to stare you down like you are the only woman on the planet.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who once got caught sketching you in the margins of a setlist by yoongi. he didn’t even look up, just said, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna keep your hands.”

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who carved your initials in his nth pair of drumsticks. he took care of them like they were made of gold.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who smudges his eyeliner just right.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who insists on burning you new CDs every few weeks. they’re full of songs that are inside jokes, sprinkled with some of his faves. sandwiched in between songs are short voice recordings of him either yapping your ear off or mumbling lyrics he thought of when he was stoned.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who always smells like that shitty, stupid cologne he stole from his older brother.

𖤐 bandmate!jimin who silently admires the way you manage to play the most toe-curling guitar solo with your bare fingers—sometimes with fresh, short acrylics on.

lulu speaks pt2: hi i don’t like this ok bye

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