Fuckable Friend || Jikook & Vmin

04

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"Friends with benefits keep life interesting
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"Who gave you the right?" he said angrily, closing the distance between himself and his target before delivering a punch with all his strength.

"I fucking told you, don't touch what's mine!" he shouted, landing repeated punches.

His knuckles were getting bloody, and exhaustion started to set in.

But he didn't stop.

All he could think about was what Jimin must have felt when he was about to be assaulted.

He kept punching Taemin relentlessly.

Taemin's face was already red and swollen, with purple shades forming around his mouth and eye area.

His eyes were blurred from the immense pain, and all he could do was murmur incomprehensible words.

"Pl- I'm so- "

"Fuck your sorry! I think what was mine begged you, but you are just a fricking rapist. I hope you die, motherfucker!"

Jungkook continued to rain down punches, sweat dripping from his head. Jungkook had serious anger issues, but he had learned how to control them through therapy.

However, the fact that Jimin was sad and heartbroken because of someone made him explode, losing any sense of sanity within him.

A crowd formed around them, staring with horror and fear.

Was Taemin going to die? When would Jungkook stop hitting him?

Taemin raised his hands, trying to defend himself, but his attempts were futile against the rapid and direct punches targeting his face.

Two teachers rushed to the scene, finally managing to drag Jungkook away from the semi-conscious victim.

"Call an ambulance! Someone, call an ambulance!" the older teacher screamed, fear evident in his voice.

Jungkook smirked.

"Don't fucking touch what is mine. I warned you, I fucking did," he said, satisfied.

He yanked himself free from the teacher's grip and pointed a threatening finger at her.

"The next time you try to stop me, it won't be good for you either." With that, he picked up his bag and headed to his car, whistling and dancing away.

......

Jimin remained in his bed, hugging his pillow, crying and sniffling.

Tissue papers were scattered all over his bed and floor, giving him a disheveled look.

His nose was running, his lips were red, and his eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep.

"I can't believe I almost got raped," he repeated to himself, his voice trembling.

"I messed up bad. I messed up really bad." He sniffled harder, overcome with distress.