venom

CHAPTER 22 | Jeon Jackass

Jungkook is nervous.

Yes, the Jeon Jungkook who's infamously known for his independence from women, never interacting with them and much less never going out with them, is fucking nervous. He is going out with you.

Except, no, this was not that — he isn't going out with you, he's just . . carrying out an assigned mission.

"This way!" you shriek with laughter, pulling him to a lingerie shop. Jungkook gulped, face flushing scarlet.

It's the next day as warm sunlight kisses his honey tanned skin, highlighting his complexion and bringing out the light hazel located in specs in his chocolatey doe eyes. His thin, pink lips purse together awkwardly, eyes landing on you softly as you drag him closer to the door.

'This isn't like me,' he thinks. The butterflies that roam around his stomach with fluttering wings create a wind of piercing anxiety, spreading up to his torso and making his legs feel like jelly. Frankly, his uncharacteristic behavior isn't unmatched.

You aren't usually this way either. Well, you are, but not typically. He's used to you being cold, standoffish and snappy, constantly grumbling (which, he realizes now why you and Yoongi get along so well) and not interacting with your fellow R.I members.

Sometimes, though, he is graced to witness this side of you, one that so closely reminds him of a giggling, mischievous cheshire cat.

Your [H/T] [H/C] tresses fall along your shoulders, strands occasionally being dragged to the side by the wind. A pearly grin spreads across your face, eyes squinting up out of habit. Jungkook's blush expands further. Excitement looks undeniably good on you.

'Pull yourself together, Jungkook,' he pressures himself.

"I-I don't really . ." Jungkook says, stumbling over his words as his eyes fail to peel away from the sights of mannequins standing by the window, wearing sexy lingerie in colors of red, black . . Oh, he really likes black . . .

"Oh, c'mon, Jungkook," you say, batting your dark eyelashes innocently up at him and standing still for a moment. "I'll be quick."

"[Y/N], we're just supposed to be getting you a dress and stuff today," he replies. His eyes trail up to the mannequins shamefully. "Not . . . this."

You smirk, sliding closer to him. He freezes when you guide a hand up on his hip; it's a simple, meaningless gesture, but it's enough for his mind to run blank.

"Aww," you utter smoothly. "Does it embarrass you?"

He bites his bottom lip.

You continue unforgivably, grin widening. "Does it embarrass you to know what I'll be wearing under that red dress? The one you're buying for me?"