IMAGINES |BTS|

Jungkook (smut)

AU
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You sat there, holding your phone in your hand just like you did every night for the last three months as you remembered him. Your mind tracked through each bittersweet moment that defined your relationship with him, and you couldn't help yourself. Because you hadn't gotten over him, not even in the slightest. And you weren't going to. You were holding onto a little sliver of hope.

You missed the way he smelled like honey and cigarettes, you missed the way his large hands felt against yours- all warm and strong and safe- and you missed his voice, the deep tone like verbal sugar in your ears, missed his toned body and how you spent countless nights squirming in pleasure under it, the tattoos that marked along his arms and side that you remember tracing your fingers and tongue against, and his fluffy brown hair and squishy cheeks you poked at everyday.

But like a snap it was all gone, taken away. Every moment you had burnt away as if it was all down on paper and a cigarette was dropped on the large pile. It turned into ash slowly as he slipped away from your tight grasp until he wasn't there with you anymore.

And you couldn't move on or find another because the image of him on a hospital bed, waiting, was forever engraved in your memories. But you weren't helping yourself either, you made things worse everyday, just as you were right now, scrolling through your phone, reading past text messages and looking at old photos. Your tears were long gone, you had cried them all, left with red puffy cheeks.

You remembered the first day you met, and it was the best day of your life:

You sat at an old arcade that your friends and you often frequented after school most days, accept you found yourself there alone, sitting just outside the door as you looked up to the night sky and counted the stars.

And you flinched with surprised as the door burst open. A man walked out- who had lots of things piled in his arms- wearing black converse and a single cigarette between his lips. He huffed and looked left, and that's when he made eye contact with you for the first time.

"Need help?" You asked, standing up from the old wooden bench.

"Yes actually." He said, struggling with the boxes in his arms. "Can ya light my cigarette for me?"

You shrugged and nodded, pulling the sleeves of your long sweater back so you could use your hands. "Where's your lighter?"

"Back pocket." He said as he turned around. You stood there, dumbfounded because you had no idea what he was doing. "Darling? You awake in there?"

"Uhm yeah sorry." You fished the small black lighter with intricate designs out of his jean pocket, ignoring the fact that you basically touched his ass, and brought it to his cigarette. You held your hand over the end of it to block the breeze as you lit it, and once it was he pulled away from you and blew the smoke the other direction.

"Thanks." He said, smiling softly before he was walking away. You stared, watching his back as he walked off, remembering the way his smile looked too soft for him. And when your hand felt heavy was when you realized you forgot to give him his lighter.

"Ah shit." You mumbled to yourself.

Everyday after that, when your friends had all left and you were alone at the arcade, that same man- who you learned was named Jungkook- always walked out the front doors with boxes in his hands. You never asked what they were for, all you did was cup your hand over his cigarette and light it for him and watch him walk off after he thanked you. Until one particular day, weeks after you met him. Instead of turning and heading away from you he stood there, staring at you. Then he set the boxes he was holding down and stepped closer to you, easily towering over your head.