Survival
survival
you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.
word count: 12.569
warning: several character death, blood, dark web, yandere tendencies, kissing, voyeurism, manipulative tactics, cult-like behaviors, orgy (ft. jimin+taehyung+jungkook), oral sex (f), unprotected sex, fingering, public sex, nipple sucking, dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, exhibitionism,
@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader @chimmisbae @
valentine's day masterlist
“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”
Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.
“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”
You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.
“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”
You glance around, the mansion surely was luxurious. It has the highest ceilings you’ve ever seen; not as if you’ve seen many. It’s bright with shining lights, a sparkling chandelier high on the ceiling that caught your attention upon having entered. The floors are marble and appear so clean that you could even see your reflection on it.
“You each have rooms located up the staircase.” the woman waves her hand to the large staircase, its carpets are dark and looks as if it wouldn’t squeak beneath your feet like the stairs you’ve grown accustomed to. “Your names are located on the door. Here, you will change into what you see is fitting for today's challenges.”
The woman begins to stroll up the stairs, her heels not being a problem in the slightest as you six begin to follow her.
The railings are a mahogany color and as you walk further up, you notice the walls are painted with a mural of a landscape. It appears to be a forest going through different stages of seasons, winter being the first and spanning all the way through spring, summer and fall. Your eyes marvel at the sight - how detailed the mural was and how long it must’ve taken to complete.
“I can’t believe we’re in such an amazing house.”
Your attention is caught when one girl speaks. You’re now at the top of the stairs and make your way towards the bedroom, your eyes skinning over the names until you see where yours is. The door is tall and has the same mahogany color as the stair railings. There’s carnings on the wooden door displaying an array of flowers. The handle is cold and shiny and it clicks as you open it.
The room is large - the largest room you’ve even encountered, even larger than your living room in your apartment.
As you enter, the lights turn on automatically, the same high ceilings as the rest of the mansion with a diamond chandelier right in the middle of the room, as well. Below it, a large queen sized bed that’s elevated sits, an array of pillows displayed neatly on it.
The floors are the same marble as before, only this time there’s a white, fluffy rug by the bed.
You release a sigh, kicking off your shoes to then go towards the bed. You plop down onto it and it slightly bounces back. You have never been on a bed that was this comfortable before and it’s as if it embraces you entirely, your eyes already becoming heavy.
There’s a loud ringing nose that catches you by surprise and you spring up from the bed. Your heart is pounding and your head whips around to find where the ringing is coming from - it’s loud, almost as if it’s a speaker, but you cannot find from where.
“Welcome,”
The voice speaks and you’re now positive that it is a speaker - maybe on the walls or ceilings.
Your eyes cannot find anything.
“Anjali, Chan-Mi, Y/N,” your ears perk when the speaker - a man - says your name. “Zarish, Luisa, Siohban.”
You suppose these are the girls you will be competing against. You swallow the lump in your throat as the speaker continues to speak.
“I suppose you all know what you six are getting into being a part of this?”
“A dating show…?” your sister murmurs, her eyes cautiously watching you. “...out of everything? A dating show?”
“I’m not expecting anyone to understand.” you suppress a laugh. You tap your fingers against your thigh as you sit besides her on the small couch in your living area.
“You’re trying to find love in this economy?”
“Realistically? No.” you shrug your shoulders. You and she were watching something she had put on Youtube when you had decided to tell her your plans. “But I read the terms and condition and the contract so-”
“You’re serious? About going on a dating show?”
Your sister doesn’t look amused in the slightest and honestly, you didn’t blame her. You and she would laugh at how ridiculous the girls looked pinning after one man and often fighting for his heart just for him to not choose any of them - and now you were going to be doing the same.
“For love? No. I don’t even expect to be chosen.” you admit, turning towards her to give her a soft smile. “But, we do get paid for being on there. Exposure, too. It’s a start and whatever money we need I will surely take.”
Your sister sighs, nodding slightly. “How long will you be gone?”
“A week max. It’s live, apparently.”
You were older than your sister by nearly five years, having taken her in a year after you left home yourself. While your sister remained in High School, you had to be the one to work for everything you and she both needed - two jobs weren’t ideal for you, but you made it work.
As time went on, bills increased, as did rent and the overall cost of living. Your sister needed necessities and as did you and your two job income wasn’t enough.
“How did you find out about this?”
“Job interview.” you snort, as if two jobs weren’t enough, you were thinking about picking up a third - just for a few hours you had free on your off days. “Said I…would fit the part. Whatever that means.”
“Would I be able to watch it live? What type of dating show is only a week?” your sister is asking all of the correct questions that you should - but you are only there for the money; you are sure everyone else is, as well.
“I’m not even sure where it would be streaming. I’ll have to ask. I’m sure it’s very…variety show like? Maybe even a game show?” you shrug your shoulders, pondering if there would be an elimination every day of the week; how anyone would find love that way is beyond you. “Us competing for a man possibly none of us are attracted to.” you joke. “Having us do odd challenges to win his heart.”
“I bet he’s ugly and old.” you sister cringes. “What if you have to kiss him?”
You cackle, head leaning back to laugh. “For a few thousands, it’s what I have to do. Life isn’t cheap.” In the back of your head, you understand that this isn’t ideal - that your sister was right and this could be an older guy who’s not the most attractive looking man; as no one knows what he looks like. But if this is what you had to do then so be it.
You were taking a week off of work for this - luckily, paid time off has come through for both jobs. “Even if I’m not the winner, honestly, let’s hope for that. I’ll be back.” you promise her.
Your sister nods her head slightly, tilting her head to the side to look at you.
You understood what you were getting into and doing this for - and you are positive your motive is similar to the other five women. None of which know who the man is, his beliefs, likes or dislikes - anything. You were all completely in it for the money; the promise of a lavish lifestyle.
In the beginning, you told yourself that you didn’t need to win, you think, you just had to be here long enough to get any form of prize.
However, now, you’re certain that this was now or never. You came this far and even managed to be picked by the man himself along with the other five women; all rivals of yours.
“That being said, the competition starts immediately. I’m looking for a wife and I don’t have much time to find her.”
You want to scoff at how desperate the man sounds. You try to put a face to the voice, but are unable to. He sounds young, no older than 30, but with the way technology is now, you can never be certain.
“The game starts now, you all.” the voice says. “If I cannot find a wife in you five, then that means I’ll have to do this all over again - and I’ll rather not.”
There’s a shiver that runs down your spine at his words and you’re unsure as to why. You take a deep breath.
“I need a wife that knows how to cook exactly what I want.” Your feet begin to move with impatience. “This mansion holds several kitchens. In about an hour, I expect you all to be downstairs and in your designated kitchen doing just that. I’m not a picky man,” there’s heartfelt laughter from him. “and I cannot wait to try what you all cook for me.”
The room is quiet again, indicating that the man was done speaking.
You swallow. You had an hour to get ready and to you, that was more than enough. You worked with as little as five minutes before, an hour was nothing to you.
You start by going to the closet - a large walk in one - that holds clothing that you were told would be in there. You would be cooking, so there isn’t a point to overdress, however, you understood that you can’t look as if you’re at home. Your usual oversized t-shirt and sweats wouldn’t be acceptable.
You also weren’t going to force yourself into a tight dress to appeal to the eye of the man you’re supposed to be cooking for. It didn't make sense.
The next 30 minutes consisted of you showering and getting ready yourself. You weren’t positive if this was when the man would make his appearance to you all, and you had to be prepared in case he had.
You stood out amongst the other five women who were all dressed to impress and you would only be a hater to say that they didn’t look nice. Even better than you.
You swallow, casting your eyes ahead of you to look at the women from early; the host.
“An hour to prepare a meal.” the woman states, her hands behind her back as she strolls towards you six. “In your designated kitchen, there would be food already laid out for you. What you do with it is all up to you. Follow me.”
The woman begins to stroll out of the large foyer and down into a hallway where each of you follow her. The mansion is huge indeed, having separate kitchens for each girl to go into. Yours was the third, and immediately you found yourself going to work.
The kitchen is huge - of course - and has a chandelier right above you hanging from a tall ceiling. The floors are hardwood and pristine and don't creek beneath your feet. On the kitchen island located in the middle of the large kitchen, lay an apron that you proceed to tie around your body.
You cooked for you and your sister whenever you had the chance to. It was enjoyable at times as you loved cooking for her. Cooking now, however, was a necessity to win. You needed to be the best, and if not, you needed to be damn close to it.
An hour flew past as though it was only five minutes. Your hair, once laid perfectly into a tidy bun, was sweated out a bit. You huffed at your reflection into the knife you were holding upon seeing yourself.
“Time’s up. Bring your plates of food back to the foyer.” says a voice over the speakers, this time not the man, but the host.
You drop your knife into the sink and turn towards the island where your plate of food sat. You were given steak and did what you thought you could with it, stewing it along with vegetables. You cooked a simple white rice atop of lettuce - you’ve done what you thought you could with what little you had.
“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.
“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.
Kim Seokjin.
Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.
“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.
Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.
Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.
“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.
Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly.
It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.
“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”
Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.
“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”
Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.
“Your food is…”
You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.
“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.
There’s shrieks that erupt around the room as Siohban falls to her knees in a pool of her own blood. Your eyes widen, a hand going to clasp onto your own mouth and the sudden sight before you.
Without much warning, the knife is japped right into Chan-Mi’s stomach, her scream haunting you. You’re frightened where you stand, your eyes wide.
Luisa is next, but she knows what to expect. She turns to run away, but trips with how terrified she is. She falls onto the ground before she has the chance to go anywhere and Jin lets a hand grab her long, wavy hair. He yanks it back, the dagger slicing right against her throat. Blood squirts out of it, splashing a few feet away from yours. You feel your stomach churn, the sudden need to vomit.
“Do calm down.” Jin says, throwing the knife onto the ground by Siobhan, who’s body appears lifeless. “This is a competition. I know you all aren’t here for love.” Jin scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “You’re here for money. I have a lot of it. However…” Jin looks between the remaining three of you.
You were the calmest, however, maybe you were just hiding it. There’s great fear in your eyes that has you startled into silence, only a single tear falling from your eyes. Zarish had fallen to her knees, pushed the farthest away from you and Anjali, who was trembling at the sight.
“...you’re going to have to show me what you’re willing to do for it.”
“I know you three need some time.”
You had proceeded to vomit into the toilet as soon as you entered your bedroom. You thanked the shared bathroom, as you’re unsure how much longer you could last. The heinous sight of murder flashed before your eyes, no matter how hard you attempted to squeeze them shut.
Your heart pumps with fear. Just an hour ago you stood before three dead bodies - this was real. This wasn’t a dream, nor a prank. The screams of fear coming from you all were real.
Jin had gone on for the next 10 minutes explaining the rules - rules you thought were already given to you. Of course they weren’t. You had gotten yourself into this mess, biting more than you could even chew. There was no “out” of this. Once witnessing bloody murder, Jin had told you three the truth. That there were only two ways out of this twisted game of his. You either had to win and become his wife, or lose and be dead.
There was no leaving alive unless you were the sole winner.
This was a life or death situation now; you were truly fighting for your life.
“But I am in need of a wife as you know. You’ll need to do more than just cook.”
Jin’s voice is taunting you through the speakers. He speaks coolly, as if he hadn’t killed anyone. You ponder just how long he’s done this - and if there is any way out of this at all. Or was this just a sick game where he would eventually kill all of you and repeat the game again.
You proceed to flush the toilet, falling besides it as Jin continues to speak.
“I need a wife that knows how to clean, as well. In an hour, meet in the foyer and await your next challenge.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, body trembling on the cold tile floor. You aren’t sure if you could do this anymore. You’re terrified that you’d be the next to go; it was only three left and it hasn’t even been a day.
Jin’s impatient and he doesn’t wish to wait any longer than he needs. He wants someone now; tonight preferably.
Your eyes snap open, staring straight ahead.
You couldn't afford to die. You weren’t here for just yourself. You had a sister you needed to take care of.
You took a shower in case it happens to be your last, at least you would know a bit or peace. You are the first to be in the foyer, followed by Zarish. She doesn’t look at you when she arrives, and you cannot blame her. Neither of you wish to be here. The atmosphere has changed from one of lighthearted competition to dreadful act of survival.
Anjali is the last to arrive and the girl's brown eyes are red and puffy from her crying. She’s trembling when she arrives and even though you sympathize with her, you cannot bring yourself to care far too much into it. You had to care about the life of your sister and that was the will you needed to survive this.
“Ladies,” the host claps as she struts into the foyer. “follow me.”
The host makes no attempts in waiting for you all, nor does she stop to acknowledge you three. She takes you down a long hallway until you three stopped behind three separate doors. She proceeds to turn back towards you. Her eyes trail between your faces before she stops at Anjali and scoffs.
“You won’t survive if you keep trembling like that.” she says snarkily. “Behind these doors is your next challenge. As you know…” she stops dramatically to look between you once more. “...Kim Seokjin isn’t just any man. His line of work is different from normal men. That being said.”
The doors are automatic and they open before the host could finish her sentence.
The sight behind the doors is traumatic. You instantly gag, clenching a hand to your mouth.
Behind your door lies the dead body of Chan-Mi. The room is covered in blood. It’s a single room, all white. White walls and tiled floors that’s stained crimson.
“Jin would like you three to clean the room and get rid of the body.”
Anjali instantly shrieks, her back hitting the wall behind you all. She shakes her head, her hands tugging her hair.
“Please, I-I-”
“You have an hour.” the host interrupts. “Do whatever you think you need to do.”
Inside the room, there’s a timer high onto the wall and close to the ceiling. It ticks down exactly one hour - a short time to clean a murder scene.
Your mind tries to think back to the true crime shoes you’d watch with your sister on how you could possibly get rid of a body; you never thought you would be in this situation.
You spring into action, making your way down the hall.
“W-Where are you going?” Anjali calls for you, not moving from the wall.
You don’t answer. You were told to do anything necessary to clean this mess up. For the first time you notice it - the cameras. It’s high and it follows you as you walk. You ponder just how many people are watching you here being forced to commit these criminal acts, now fully engrossed in it.
You open doors until you find one with cleaning supplies. You take a deep breath, grabbing whatever your arms could hold.
You work on autopilot, your mind completely blank as you work. You wrapped Chan-Mi’s body in one too many trash bags, refusing to look into her face. Her eyes were open but lifeless like the rest of her.
Dragging a body was harder than the movies made it, placing it right outside of the room and making your way back inside to clean it. You scrub onto your hands and knees, mind remaining blank as you focus on removing the crimson from your sight. 45 minutes, 30 minutes, 20 minutes.
Your heart is pumping outside your chest and your breath heaves as you drag the body down the hallway to the front door. You hadn't had any time to explore the mansion and today wasn’t going to be the day. You had 15 minutes until the challenge was done and you were told to get rid of the body by any means necessary.
The mansion is quiet and you’re positive Jin, the host and who knows how many other people are watching you now. You open the main doors of the mansion, poking your head out. It’s evening now, the sky has different shades of purple hues.
You drag Chan-Mi outside, down the stone stairs and towards the side of the house. You’re unsure how long you walked with the body until your legs gave out and you collapsed.
You breathe heavily, your mind regaining and you scream out. It echoes off of the trees, the eerily silence of the mansion adding more terror to your situation.
Focus - you tell yourself.
Remember what you’re doing this for.
Your knees tremble as you stand, fixing your hair. A few strands had fallen from your bun as you were cleaning vigorously. Your eyes scan the area, pondering where you were going to put this body.
Your eyes drag towards a pond and even if your moral compass was eating at you, you understand that this was life or death - for you and your sister.
“A better life…” you murmur to yourself, reaching the pond. “...for me. For us.”
You threw Chan-Mi’s body into the pond. It splashes loudly and all you can think is you hope you’re far enough for anyone to notice far too quickly. It isn’t a lake with running water, so the body would move anywhere. However, the the pond is surrounded by rocks and if far enough, the untrained eye would never notice-
“Are you okay?”
Your body stiffens at the words coming from behind you.
Slowly, you turn, eyes catching onto a man a few feet away. He’s strolling towards you. He’s tall and his cheeks are dimpled.
“I-I…” you’re unable to speak. You immediately get up from your knees and begin to walk towards the man. “...I was just going for a walk.” you speak, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I ended up falling and…made a mess of myself.”
The man reaches you and looks at your appearance. He nods his head with a chuckle. “I can see that. I have never seen you around here.”
“You live around here?” you ask. Where did this man come from and just how did he know you were here? Your palms were already sweaty and you didn’t have time to stay and chat. You had about five minutes until you had to be back at the mansion.
“I do. I hike in the woods all the time.” the man nods his head. “I’m Namjoon.” he raises a hand for you to grab.
You do hesitantly, nodding your head. “Y/N.” you murmur. “I have to get back. It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon.” you say. “Enjoy your hike. I hope you aren’t as clumsy as me.” you attempt to joke, making your way around the man before he can say anything else.
You enter the home quickly, slamming the door behind you. Jin is behind it, almost as if he’s waiting for you.
You stop in your tracks, unable to form words.
“You’re right on time.” Jin says. “The first to arrive.”
You’re exhausted, falling to your knees. You hang your head in defeat.
“I’ve watched you, Y/N.”
Your ears perk at Jin’s words. You hear footsteps coming closer to you.
“We all have.”
“What…how many people?”
“Thousands.” Jin chuckles. “Don’t worry. It’s only the dark web.”
Your blood runs cold once more. You don’t want to ask anymore questions, far too afraid to know anymore.
“You’re becoming a favorite, Y/N.” Jin kneels down to face you. He pats your head as if you’re a puppy, encouraging you to look at him. “The way you got rid of the body and managed to get away from Joon.”
“Joon…” you murmur, the dimpled-cheeked man flashing through your mind. “...you know Namjoon….?”
Of course Jin did. There wasn’t any home for miles. How else would you be caught in such a situation ? Maybe that was a part of their plan, to try and get you to confess what was truly going on in hopes that you would look for a way out.
You clench your eyes shut and release a shaky sob.
“You won this round, Y/N. Come,” Jin offers out his hand for you to take. “Let's get you ready for the final round. I hope you didn’t like Anjali as much.” Jin begins to laugh heartily. “You won’t be seeing her for the final challenge.”
You weren’t told by Jin how long you had until the final round. You were in the shower once more, this time sitting on the shower floor and allowing the water to run down your body. Your eyes are closed, and as much as you tried, you cannot get your mind to go blank.
It was a lot for one person to handle in just one single day.
You wished you understood more about Jin and the dark web. You’ve heard about the dark web before and the last thing you ever desired was to be a part of it. It brought chills up your spine to just think about how many eyes are on you and what those eyes are involved in themselves.
You finally got out of the shower once the water began to run cold. You wrap a towel around you, your wet feet strolling towards the large, round mirror inside of the bathroom. Your eyes watch yourself, however not truly seeing yourself. It’s as though you’re witnessing a shell of yourself.
You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You want to laugh bitterly at the unfortunate circumstances that you are dealt with - and just how much of a terrible person you were becoming because of them. Was this real life or a nefarious dream you fell into due to slumber?
There’s a knock that sounds at your bathroom door that causes you to flinch, startled.
You take a few moments to answer, instead choosing to listen quietly, unsure who would be behind the door at such a vulnerable moment you were in now.
“It’s me.”
Jin.
You feel goosebumps liter your arms at his voice. Still, your mind cannot embrace the fact that Kim Seokjin, someone so beautiful as him, is a part of this. Involved with not just this twisted game of survival, but the dark web, as well; which is an iceberg itself.
Your hand wraps around the cold doorknob and you slowly twist it open, cracking it open so you can peek out at the man. He offers a curt grin, his head slightly tilting.
“It’s dawning on you, isn’t it?” Jin questions vaguely. “That this is real life and not some sort of nightmare?”
Your heart jolts and you swallow your words. It’s as if he took the thoughts right out of your mind.
“It’s far too late in wanting to drop out of the competition.” Jin murmurs. “I’m sure you know why.”
You wouldn’t be able to leave here alive - you’re well aware.
Slowly, you nod your head, slightly opening the door a little wider.
“I came to see how you were doing.” Jin takes a few steps back and it’s then you realize that he changed from his attire earlier, to a black suit. “This…can weigh heavy on people such as you.”
“What do you mean people such as me?” you question low. You proceed to open the door fully, your towel tightly around your frame.
Jin begins to stroll away from you and proceeds to take a seat onto your bed. A shame you haven’t truly had the time to lay in it, but he doesn’t wish to extend the games. For months, he had women come in and out - all failing. He wants this game to end tonight, and there’s only two opponents left. He surely hopes either you or Zarish would be the one to end his suffering in having to do this - and he can go home with a wife.
“It’s obvious you aren’t…part of this lifestyle.” Jin looks up at you now, brown eyes giving your undivided attention. “You and Zarish aren’t doing this for love, either.”
“Are you?” you’re bold enough to ask, your right hand holding the top of your towel tightly. “You do this…often?”
Jin snickers. “Unfortunately,” he nods. “no one has won as of yet. This is why it appears the challenges are a bit fast paced.”
You sit in the doorway of the bathroom awkwardly as you await for him to continue speaking.
“Why are you doing this?” Jin questions. “What made you want to come here?”
“I didn’t think I would have to hide a body.” you say truthfully, a bit of sadness in your voice. “I didn’t think I would be fighting for survival, either.”
“I do apologize.” Jin says, yet you don’t hear any sincerity in his words. “It wasn’t my idea of presenting the game as a bachelor type.”
You nod your head. Of course there were others involved, deeper than just Jin and Namjoon.
“What are you fighting for, Y/N?” Jin proceeds to dig deeper. “What do you have to live for?”
Jin’s eyes are intense as he awaits an answer from you. It causes you to look away, goosebumps growing even harder onto your skin. You nearly forgot that you were naked beneath this towel and semi-wet.
“I have a sister.” you say truthfully. There isn’t a point of lying now. This could also be a test to see if you were going to be truthful or not. If Jin had ties to the dark web, who knows what else he’s apart. “And I needed money…”
“I see.” Jin hums. “Everyone has their reasonings.”
“Can I ask yours?”
Jin is intrigued. Zarish wasn’t much of a speaker, yet he couldn’t blame her. Her demeanor is colder than it once was when she arrived, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were two contestants and a final round.
“You…there has to be a reason why you’re doing all of this, right?” you lean against the door frame. “You can’t have a hard time finding a wife.”
Jin’s lips twitch upward.
“Observant.” Jin nods. “I can get a wife anywhere. But…” Jin spreads his legs a bit. “Where’s the fun in that?”
There’s a sinister way in which Seokjin laughs.
“Sure, you didn’t come here for love. That doesn’t mean that you and I couldn’t grow to love one another, right?”
The question strikes you as odd, seeing as this was still a competition.
“If you win, of course.” Jin adds, as if reading your thoughts yet again. “You’re already a fan favorite, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
You exhale.
“Do you want it?”
Your attention is brought back to Jin.
“Do you want a better life?” Jin continues. “Do you want it enough to fight for it? There's only one more round left, Y/N.” Jin prods on, his eyes roaming your face for any emotion. “Show me you want to survive, Y/N.”
You find yourself in front of Jin now, who awaits for you to do something. Anything.
You wanted nothing more than to survive this - not for just your sake, but for your sister. Her life depended on yours, and maybe that was all the will you needed to survive this.
“I do want this.” you murmur, unsure of what you’re now doing kneeling before him as he sits onto your bed. Your right cheek sit lightly against his knee.
“I know.” Jin answers. “I can see it in your eyes. It’s easier to do the things you do if you tell yourself it’s for someone else.”
Maybe being an accomplice to a murder was easier if you told yourself you were doing this for your sister.
You hum.
“Get dressed.” Jin says, a soft hand laying on your left cheek. “The final round will be starting soon. Make yourself presentable.”
You remove your cheek from his knee just as Jin stands to his feet. He looks down upon your vulnerable figure but doesn’t say another word as he saunters out of the room. You watch his figure leave sullenly, a coldness running through you as you felt alone, but knew that you weren’t truly.
“This is crazy, don’t you think?” you murmur to Zarish. “That only one of us can survive this?”
Zarish offers a glance, the soft music playing in the background of the large ballroom. All surrounded by people who are associated with Kim Seokjin himself.
“We…can both survive this.” you say to her, taking a sip of your glass of champagne. You offer a few smiles to guests. “We can both escape before anyone notices us.”
After Jin had left your room, you continued to sit onto the ground by the large bed for what felt like hours until you finally got to your feet to get ready for the next challenge. You weren’t sure what presentable was, but you only had what was in the large closet to choose from. All dresses ranging from long to short.
You grabbed a short dress, stopping at your knees. You opted for this incase you were getting into something that involved you moving a body again - or running for your life. You only had heels to choose from, but you chose a pair that would be easy to get out of if needed be.
You decided to fix your hair to the same bun as before, this time neater and allow a few strands of hair to be released, twirling your finger around it a few times to allow it to curl.
There’s another knock that sounds, this time on your bedroom door. You stand a bit straighter before strolling to the door and opening it.
“It’s time.” the host says, dressed differently. A wine colored floor dress that hugs her curves. On the right side is a slit that rides all the way up to her mid thigh. “You have five minutes to meet everyone downstairs in the main hall.”
“E-Everyone?” you speak up, eyebrows knitting.
“Yes.” the host nods. “The final round is to impress not only Kim Seokjin, but those who associates with. You’re attempting to be a wife, correct?”
You nod, a bit dumbfounded.
“Okay then. Here is your moment.” the host turns to walk away. “Don’t let these people see you be frightened. They’ll eat you up and spit you out if so.”
The host’s footsteps get quieter as she descends down the carpeted hallway. You take a deep breath as you replay her advice - or warning - in your head. You take another deep breath before following her down the hallway.
You can hear faint music along with chattering voices. You suppose this was the final challenge, and maybe the most nerve wracking one of it all. You barely knew Seokjin, so being surrounded by people such as him was just as terrifying.
You decide to follow the music down to the far right of the foyer and down a dim-lit hallway until you reach the large ballroom. It’s surrounded with people - all wearing masquerade-like masks. You felt anxious being surrounded by them, unsure how to truly handle it all.
The ballroom is designed just as elegant and expensive as the rest of the mansion. Its lights are lit dim just as the hallway, but the candles add a bit more flickering light to it all; a sinister type of feeling, however. There’s round tables with white tables clothed all throughout the ballroom, with four chairs each. Only a few people were seated as they chatted amongst each other, while the rest were standing.
There’s flowers, all white, on each table. As well as hanging from the ceiling besides large chandeliers that aren’t shining to their full potential.
“Y/N.”
Your head turns to the sound of your name. A masked figure stands tall besides you, his face fully covered by the gold mask. The candles surrounding the room dance off of his mask.
“I-I…”
The man raises a hand to his mask and lifts it, and instantly you recognize the man just by half of his face, dimples poking out. It’s Namjoon, and he speaks when he takes the mask off fully.
“It’s nice to see you again.”
“You, as well.” you say shyly, glancing around the room. “You…are a part of this?”
Namjoon chuckles with a quick shoulder shrug. “Sure,” he responds. “You managed to be quite a fan favorite.” he says to change the subject.
You scoff to yourself. “Of the dark web?” you question. “I’m not sure how to handle that.”
“No one ever truly does.” Namjoon answers. “You have my vote.”
“Vote?” you ask, just as Namjoon puts his mask back over his face. “All of these people have to vote…?”
Namjoon nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“Thank you.” you murmur.
Namjoon’s vote is just one of hundreds.
“Follow me.” you tell Zarish, your eyes roaming around the large room to find no one you recognized. You find that those with gold masks were the ones who held higher importance. “Let’s get out of here while everyone is distracted.”
You grabbed Zarish’s hand in your own and tugged her along. You managed to get out of the large ballroom and into the quiet hallway. Your heels click along the marble floor, as does hers.
“Where are we going?” Zarish sputtered, her head turning back to the party for a moment before looking ahead at you.
The plan had hit you an hour in. You had met more people, all who spoke to you behind their respected masks. You were polite to them, even engaging in light conversations before you were onto the next; none of them being Jin. You suppose he was watching you from the shadows, awaiting for when the votes would be announced.
Zarish was a beautiful girl, tall with long black hair that she had tucked in a low ponytail. Her dress is floor length and lavender-colored.
You go past the foyer to down the other side of the hall. It’s familiar to you both, where you had gone just hours before to clean the dead bodies of former contestants.
You drop Zarish’s hands when you reach one of the large kitchens. You turn to her. “Grab a weapon.”
“A weapon?” Zarish whispers with wide eyes. “W-Why-”
“How long do you think it’ll be until they realize we’re both gone?” you say, your heels clanking against the tiled floors of the kitchen as you search the drawers for a knife.
Zarish doesn’t say anything, but she’s visibly nervous. She goes to the other side of the large kitchen to find a weapon.
Your reflections glare in one of the large cutting knives. You grasp your hand around the handle and lift it up.
“Why are you here?” you ask Zarish as she opens one drawer. “For money?”
Zarish nods her head, her hands clenching the sides of the drawer.
“My father is sick.” she responds, releasing a soft sop. “If I would’ve known I was coming to this…”
You sympathize with her. You take a few steps closer to her until you’re behind her, your free hand on the short of her back.
“My sister,” you speak, taking a deep breath. “I came for her. To give us both a better life.”
Zarish nods slowly.
“I don’t think any of us knew…” you don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you clench your eyes shut.
“I…I just want to get out of here.”
Zarish’s voice cracks when she speaks. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not now. She sniffles and turns around to face you. “Y/N, I-”
It takes all the will in you to jab the knife right into her stomach. It was nothing personal to her. You held no ill intent towards her, and if there was truly a way out of here, surely you and she would’ve managed.
Maybe in a perfect world there was. You and she ran off into the arms of safety - yet this was reality. There were cameras watching your every move.
Zarish doesn’t put up a fight. Possibly death was easier than fighting her way out of here. The saddened look in her eyes does reach yours, yet she doesn’t say anything in protest.
You remove the knife from her stomach, her hands going to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
“I’m going to help your father.” you murmur, driving the knife repeatedly back into her stomach several times. Each time is met with a gasp from the woman. “So in a way, you being here isn’t completely a loss.”
You’re completely covered in blood by the time you’re done, Zarish’s lifeless body on the pristine floors. Her blood soaks into your dress. You drop the knife and it clunks loudly on impact.
You make your way out of the kitchen and down the familiar hall towards the foyer and back to the ballroom. It’s as if no one has truly noticed you and Zarish are gone.
You stop at the doorway of the ballroom, the blood staining your hands. Your eyes search for Jin and you’re sure you found him. His mask is the only mask that stands out, a silver color. It appears as if he’s watching you from the eyeholes of the mask.
You walk towards him, your mind focusing on him and only him. The people appear to be quiet now as you walk past them, allowing you to stroll without a problem.
You stop just a few short feet away from Jin, panting heavily now.
“You told me,” you begin, your eyes never wavering. “that if i wanted to win…if I wanted a better life…” you swallow. “...I’d have to show you.”
Jin’s right hand reaches up towards the silver mask. Slowly, he lifts it from his face. His expression is an emotionless one, but it’s easier to speak with him now that you can see his eyes.
“What did you do?” Jin questions, though he’s positive he has an idea.
“I killed her.” you respond. “She…”
Your thoughts speak at you all at once. You tilt your head a bit.
“She was going to run away.” you mumble. “She…told me to go with her. I did.” you admit half of the truth, because did it truly matter now? “...then I killed her. There isn’t a way out of here, right?” you ask Jin. “We would have both been dead. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to win.”
Jin’s dark eyes watch you from where he stands. Slowly, your sanity was dripping away and in such a short amount of time.
Rosy plump lips grin towards you and that alone causes your heart to leap.
“Come,” Jin announces, his hand waving you over.
Widening your eyes, you do as you’re told. You round the large table and come besides Jin, behind him a few bodies you were not aware of, all dawning gold masks.
Jin goes into his pocket and grasps a small, square box. “Congratulations, Y/N.” Jin speaks, opening the box to reveal a ring inside of it. It’s quite different from a ring you’d expect as a wedding ring, yet this whole situation alone was. It has a gold band that surrounds itself with diamonds while an oval emerald diamond sits right in the middle of it, smaller silver diamonds outlining the oval shape.
“We have no time to waste.” Jin removes the ring from the box and holds it up. “Give me your hand.”
You watch in slight awe as Jin slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a surreal feeling in knowing that you won this twisted game he has forced you into. A game that lasted only a few hours, but felt like weeks on end.
There’s clapping that sounds throughout the ballroom and for a moment, you nearly forgot that it wasn’t just you and Jin in the room.
A man with a gold mask comes forward, papers in hand. It wasn’t Namjoon, you note, as the man wasn’t as tall.
“Come,” Jin wraps a hand around your waist. “let’s sign these documents.”
Jin doesn’t waste any time in handing you your own pen to sign a few documents that he doesn’t allow you to read. All of your signatures were right besides his, already pre-signed.
You aren’t nervous about signing your life away. Afterall, it isn’t everyday that you go through such trials and tribulations to assure you live long enough to see yourself be married.
That, and murder someone for the first time. Maybe tomorrow when your reality dawns on you would you actually break down. As of now, your mind remains blank and you’re working on autopilot.
There’s a hand that catches you out of your thoughts. It’s holding a clear champagne glass full of slightly bubbling liquid.
You grasp the glass from one of the men sporting a gold mask. He holds another one out for Jin who also takes it. Jin holds his glass up for you to clank against his in a toast.
“To Y/N and I,” Jin announces, his dark eyes reaching yours. “to death do us part.” he says, a more sinister meaning behind the words.
There’s more cheering as you lift the champagne to your lips and sip, as does Jin. His eyes never leave you. He finds that even if you’re possibly in shock now, the reality not fully sinking in yet and covered in blood, he finds you beautiful.
Maybe it’s also because in a short amount of time, you’ve managed to succumb to a bit of madness, realizing that if you wanted to survive all of this meant that you had to do what you possibly didn’t want to.
“A lot to handle in just one day?” Jin murmurs your way, leaning down a bit. There’s chattering throughout the entirety of the ballroom.
“Yeah.” you nod your head in agreement. “I…became a killer?” you’re unsure how else to put it.
Jin chuckles at your cuteness. “In a way,” he responds. “the best has yet to come.”
You aren’t sure exactly what he meant, but you were going to find out.
Your body warms in a matter of minutes and slowly, you begin to relax. You were already eerily calm as if you hadn’t murdered an innocent woman. Yet, you felt even calmer - was that possible?
It was as if your body was shooting serotonin boosts throughout you and you were becoming relaxed.
Happy even.
“You,”
Seokjin’s voice sounded so close to you as you down the rest of the champagne. Your throat was throbbing for more, thirst growing throughout you.
“are in for a long ride.” Seokjin finishes as he places a hand on the low of your back. Dangerously low that it shooks electricity right up your spine.
“Am I?” you question, turning a bit to look at him. His lips are curled slightly and beady eyes are already watching you.
“Indeed you are.” Seokjin murmurs. He takes a curt sip of his bubbling champagne before he presses the glass to your lips. You open your mouth to drink the remaining of it, your eyes unblinking from Seokjin’ - almost as if in a trance.
“There’s things people like us do.” Seokjin’s fingers tap along your back. “The elites.”
“Elites?”
Seokjin begins to stroll and he keeps you close to him. The room is crowded as it has been for a while, yet you remain close to Seokjin as if it was just the two of you. The room is loud with chattering voices that you cannot make out in any conversation, but even then you only hear Seokjin as he speaks.
“Powerful people like me.”
Jin steers you towards a tall door that opens upon arrival by another masked figure who waits right beside it. The masked man bows to Jin and you as the two of you stroll through the door and down the long, carpeted hallway.
“These…parties?” you question. You rock your head side to side a bit, your hand coming up to wipe your forehead of a light trail of sweat. “Is everyone here elites?”
Jin nods his head. “Everyone once in a while, we all come together.” he murmurs. For an odd reason, the carpeted hallway appears entirely too long. At the end of said hallway is a pair of double doors that match the ones you and he walked through. “It’s like a secret society.”
“Secret society…” you trail off. You blink a few times when you and Jin reach the end of the hallway, your mind thinking a million questions at once. “...what do you guys do…?”
You got your answer quicker than you realized. The door is opened by Jin and he pushes you in gently. Your eyes trail over the large room. The carpet is the same crimson red as the hallway, though this time there’s gold patterns. The tall walls appear to be stone and now you realize just how enclosed this room is.
Moans and squeals fill the room, naked bodies all over the place. You and Jin’s entrance goes unnoticed by the sea of people engaging in sexual activity. Right in the middle of the large room are a group of women engaging in oral sex, their manicured hands roaming one anothers naked bodies.
Jin notices the way you push yourself closer to him and his arm around you holds you a bit tighter. He leans down a bit to murmur to you.
“Sometimes we come together and have a little fun.” Jin responds.
Within the sea of naked bodies, there’s still a few - men - that are covered. You noticed the gold masks that are similar to the ones Jin and Namjoon wore. Fully clothed and lingering in the area.
In the corner of the room, there’s a group of people fucking. A few naked bystanders watch, one woman's head on another's shoulders as if they were watching their favorite show. Your eyes watch the way the man fucks the woman with such earnest and need.
As if they were the only two in the room.
“Takes a lot to get used to this world.” Jin’s voice sends shivers down your spine and it knocks you back into reality. “You are an elite now.”
You swallow, eyes slowly widening at the words before you shake your head a bit. You bite your lip as you continue to survey the area. Were all these people elites? Is this what the ultra wealthy did? Partake in sex parties?
It shouldn’t catch you by surprise. You recall Namjoon’s words from earlier on how he voted for you. This was another part of the world of the elite. A game. After watching you all engage in a sick game of survival, they come here and fuck one another brains out.
You take a deep breath. There wasn’t any turning back now. Your dress is still covered in Zarish’s blood, staining the expensive material. Your mind is swirling and your core is telling you that possibly you drank more than just champagne.
“You look tense, Y/N.” Jin rubs your back softly. “You should unwind.”
“Unwind…how?” you question low. You could guess how. The sea of people all surrounding you two, all engaging in different sexual positions. “Jin?”
“Hm?” Jin hums. His long fingers appear to tap along your back as he awaits for you to answer him.
“Zarish,” you begin, swallowing a bit. Your mind was swirling and you didn’t want to forget what you had promised her prior to what you’ve done. “I…I promised her…”
Jin blinks, perfect eyelashes fluttering. “That you’d help her sick father?”
You knit your brows.
“I know everything about all my contestants.” Jin continues with a curt nod of his head. “You remain so noble, Y/N. My wife.” Jin’s fingers dance up your spine until they stop at the nape of your neck. “Whatever you set out to do, I will allow it. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Your head turns just in time to catch the figure that struts towards you. The gold mask comes to your line of vision and all you can think of was Jin and Namjoon. You do not move, even when the masked man stops directly in front of you and offers a bit of a head tilt. You cannot see his eyes and the eye holes of the golden mask appear like an endless dark hole.
“Y/N this is-”
“Jimin.”
The masked man speaks, his voice muffled a bit behind the golden mask. His hand lifts up to remove the mask, an act that appears taboo in a place such as this, but possibly he does it as an act of familiarity.
The man that comes from behind the golden mask has the same level of beauty as Jin and Namjoon, a pair of dark eyes staring back at you and a low grin that shows ulterior motives.
Jimin…
The man’s pearly white smile captivates you for a second too long that when he holds his hand out for you to take, you’re standing a bit dumbfounded.
“It’s nice to get the chance to meet you, Y/N.” Jimin’s voice sounds like honey - sweet and sugary. “My name is Jimin. Park,” Jimin, once you place your hand in his surprisingly soft and calloused-free ones, lifts it to his mouth. They’re a bit glossy, you note. “Jimin.” he says after he pecks your hand.
Your head slowly turns to Jin who’s already watching. He doesn’t say anything about Jimin’s actions and instead takes a step back, as if to allow you to do as you pleased.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” you murmur meekly. Your thighs pressed together firmly, the surrounding moans mixed with skin slapping was too much. How could they ignore the sex surrounding them?
They were elites, your mind tells you. They do this often.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Jimin allows your hand to drop, but he doesn’t step away.
“Yes…?” you glance around a bit. One girl is on her knees not too far away. Her mouth was occupied and so were her hands.
“Is that a question?” Jimin chuckles. He turns his head behind him to follow your gaze. “This must be a lot for you.”
All you can feel is your body burning up. You release a short huff. The room was stuffy and even this dress was feeling a bit too tight.
“I have never been a part of…”
“An Orgy.” Jimin chuckles, his laughter just as sweet as his voice that it causes you to melt a bit.
You proceed to glance towards Jin again. Just what was he doing standing and watching you for?
“Would you like to?”
Jin doesn’t answer for you, not even when your eyes meet his for any form of guidance.
You’re sure you don’t have a choice, you think. You were brought here for a reason. The blood on your dress was the reminder of the choice you made. The papers you’ve signed and the ring Jin put on your finger.
Slowly, you nod your head.
You wanted this, you told yourself.
You’ve killed for this.
“Champagne?”
There’s another voice this time. It’s as though you were hypnotized by Jimin that you had not realized another golden masked man stopped directly beside you. He holds out a single glass of bubbling champagne for you to take. You do, placing the glass against your lips and proceeding to downing the drink. You lick your lips as the masked man takes it from you.
“Turn around.”
That’s Jimin talking. You do, your heels falling silent against the carpeted floor. You’re now facing Jin. He’s leaning against the stone wall, his eyes never leaving yours.
Jimin’s hands are on your back and you could feel it loosening. He begins to unzip the dress slowly, bringing up anticipation. Your head tilts a bit, your breathing increasing.
“Not participating today?”
Jimin isn’t speaking with you. The masked man who brought you the champagne responds.
“Maybe later. I just want to watch for now.”
Your dress falls to your ankles. You don’t feel cold, even when the goosebumps erupt through your bare skin. Your body grows even hotter, especially with how close the unknown masked man and Jimin were to you.
“Congratulations on your engagement Y/N.” Jimin murmurs from behind you.
“And to Jin-hyung.”
Jin’s eyes blink away to look at the two men behind you. He offers a curt nod to them.
There’s hands onto your body now and a pair of lips on your neck. They move entirely too fast for you to process. Your eyes flutter and it’s becoming difficult to keep your eyes on Jin.
“It’s been a while since we’ve sampled something new.”
You catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eyes. The gold mask that falls to the floor.
Jimin’s index finger hooks beneath your chin and pulls your face his way. His lips are centimeters away from you and before he could place his lips upon yours, you pull your face away.
Was this what Jin meant? Was he going to sit and watch you the entire time?
Jin’s eyes connect with yours for a moment and he only nods his head. His arms are crossed over his chest now.
Gradually, you begin to turn your head back towards Jimin. He hadn’t moved from his position and once he realized you were willing now, he placed his lips upon yours. They’re soft and have a faint taste of strawberries.
There’s a pair of large hands that grip at your skin as your lips dances with Jimin’s. Your body radiates more heat as if you’re a furnace and you cannot help the choked moan that dies down in your throat. Maybe it was because you knew Jin was watching you the entire time. Maybe it was because you’re just another body in a sea of people all doing the same.
Jimin releases your lips, but that doesn’t mean you are done. Your face is yanked to the left and you finally come face to face with the other man. He’s just as beautiful as Jimin and the rest of them. His eyes are dark and his lips are thin as the kiss along your jaw. The unknown man was rougher than Jimin, his large hand cupping your neck to pull you closer to him.
“Taehyung.” the man says, his voice deep and raspy that you clench around nothing upon hearing it. As if reading your mind, he introduces himself before his own lips are on yours. He forces your mouth open, his tongue exploring your mouth.
“Champagne, sir?”
Jin turns his eyes to the naked woman with a tray of champagne. She doesn’t look directly in his eyes as she awaits for him to dismiss her or take the champagne offered. He does, long fingers hooking around the glass and he nods his head to dismiss her. She strolls away, naked body swaying into the sea of people.
Jin brings the bubbling liquid to his lips, eyes darting back to you. You were a mess already, Taehyung and Jimin not being known to waste any time. You were already out of your bra and it lay discarded on the ground. Taehyung has a mouth full of your left nipple, large hands aggressively gripping and tugging on your breast as he suckles.
Jimin’s hand find their way between your legs that he shoves apart. He doesn't bother to tear your panties off just yet, his fingers working your clit as his tongue twirls over your right nipple.
Your moans do not go unnoticed by Jin, even in a room full of squeals, slapping skin and aggressive moaning. They’re like honey - sweet and curt and entirely new to his ears. He licks his lips, taking another sip of champagne.
It’s entirely too fast for you to process, you think. The way Taehyung was rough and dominant while Jimin was the exact opposite. He was more teasing, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit while his tongue flickers your nipple dangerously slow.
You don’t attempt to contact your moans and even your body begins to feel heavy. You’re leaning entirely onto Jimin, but the man doesn’t appear to be bothered by it.
“S-Slow down-”
Taehyung’s teeth graze your nipple as he pops it from his mouth. His eyes look upwards at you and he grunts. “No.” he says. “We’re preparing you for hyung.”
You gasp when Jimin’s finger skims across your hole, teasing you even more. He chuckles a bit, a cool laugh because he knows just how much you want his fingers in you.
“Get you nice and ready to be fucked.” Jimin sing-songs, his contrast compared to Taehyung a true eye opener.
“Table.” Taehyung says, and before you have the chance to process, you feel yourself being lifted off your feet.
You yelp when your back slams against something cold and hard. Your eyes dance around the large table, already occupied with people, yet you were the center of it. To your right were women who were being watched by other masked men - not golden masks - as they performed several sex acts.
“Take these off.” Taehyung tugs at your panties, snatching them away from your wet core and down your legs. He doesn’t bother to toss them anywhere near you and instead discards them behind his shoulders. “Let’s see how wet you are, huh?”
“Pretty wet.” Jimin says from beside Taehyung, placing a few of his fingers in his mouth and sucks them.
Taehyung’s hand slaps against your inner thighs once he shoves them apart. You squeal, the action causing a jolt of pleasure right through you.
“We’ll make you even wetter.”
It’s Taehyung that acts first, long fingers inching inside of you. Your back arches when he begins to pound them inside of you so roughly that you barely have time to react. Beside him Jimin holds your right leg while Taehyung your left, both eyes trained on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers.
Jin emerges right behind you on the table, another glass of champagne in his hand. He looks down at your face - fucked out expression with fluttering eyes and flushed skin. There’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth that trails down your jaw.
“You must want a cock in you, Y/N. You’re milking all over Tae’s palm!” Jimin chuckles, squeezing your thigh.
“No fair!”
Jin knows the voice of his dongsaeng. The whiny familiar voice of Jeon Jungkook as he appears, mask dangling from his shoulders.
“You didn’t wait for me!”
Taehyung’s pump slows a bit as he turns to the younger man with a roll of his eyes. He releases a sigh. “You were late.”
“I was busy.”
Jungkook meets your glossy gaze and he grins.
“Y/N,” Jungkook leans closer to you. “I’ve voted for you since the beginning.”
“You’re ruining the moment, Kook. Do something or go.” Jimin hisses, with a soft glare.
“I plan to.” Jungkook pushes Taehyung away. “You’re doing nothing but teasing her. I’ll be making her cum.”
The three of them together always caused competition - Jungkook being the most competitive of the trio. Jin doesn’t say anything and he’s a bit amused when you sigh meekly.
Jungkook takes Taehyung’s place between your legs, forcing your right leg into place so you cannot move away from him. He offers you a short wink before lowering himself to your clit.
Your thighs jolt to close, but with Jimin and Jungkook, they don’t. Jungkook’s tongue is warm and it licks between your folds rather aggressively.
Taehyung isn’t amused by being taken over by Jungkook, but he isn’t going to fight him. Not now, at least. Instead, he places his fingers inside your gasping mouth.
Tasting your arousal was something you’d never thought you do - yet, neither was being an “elite” and partaking in…orgies? Especially while your soon to be husband watched above you.
However, it all appears to be a dream. You aren’t bothered being completely naked by three unknown men you all met today while one eats you out as if he has something to prove.
Your eyes roll as there’s another set of fingers pumping inside of you now all the while Jungkook’s warm tongue continues to suckle onto your clit. Your chest heaves as it was all too much now. You’re unsure who’s hand is gripping at your breast, their thumb flicking your nipple, but you’re sure it’s Jimin.
Jin can feel his cock twitching from his suit pants. He drops the empty glass onto the table and leans closer to you, cloudy eyes on the way your breast bounces as your hips jerk against Jungkook’s tongue, pussy squeezing around his fingers.
“She’s so fucked out.” Taehyung chuckles, removing his fingers from your mouth so he trails them down towards your breast.
“I think she’s about to cum.” sing-song Jimin.
“Are you ready for her, hyung?” asks Taehyung.
“I didn’t make her cum yet.” Jungkook groans, fingers pumping inside of you. Your juices coat his palm and he’s entirely enthralled by how sopping wet you are.
“We’re just warming her up.”
Jungkook groans. There’s nothing more he hates than to leave a woman in such a manner. He removes his fingers and sighs with a shake of his head. “Maybe next time.” he says with a cute pout. It’s then you notice the piercing on his lip. “Hyung.”
You lay flat against the table now, chest heaving. Your thighs quiver and you can barely keep your eyes open now. Your high was slowly coming down, but even then did you feel the electricity through your veins.
“Time to consummate the marriage!”
Jimin’s voice dances through your ears.
“Y/N,”
You open your eyes to see Jin right in front of you. His head is tilted and he appears to wait for you to be fully coherent before he speaks again.
“Welcome to the elites.” Jin says, taking a step closer between your legs.
You exhaled a shaky breath, unanswering.
Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook stand around, their own glasses of champagne in their hand and they down them one by one.
Your low eyes watch as Jin begins to loosen his belt from around his waist.
“Enjoy your night tonight, boys.” Jimin says, lifting his third glass of champagne. His eyes turn from Jungkook to Taehyung. “There’s a long work week ahead of us.”
They carry on their own conversation that goes on deaf ears when Jin places both hands onto your waist and pulls you closer towards him.
“You aren’t going to remember this tomorrow.” Jin murmurs. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
“I’ll manage.” you murmur back, a hand reaching out to grab at his suit. “Please fuck me.”
Jin chuckles at your filthy words but he was going to do exactly what you asked.
“I have a million on one match in Paris.” Taehyung says. “I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
Jin’s cock is leaking pre-cum when he releases it from his underwear, his suit pants dropping by his ankles.
“Your pussy is pretty.” Jin comments. “I’m glad you won the game, Y/N. You fit into this world greatly.”
Jin enters you without much warning, but your pussy is so wet that it isn’t a problem. The stretch is good, a low groan deep in your throat.
Jin begins to pound into you, his aggressive thrusts only adding to the other around the large room. His eyes watch the way your breast bounces beneath him. He hooks your legs around his waist for a deeper entrance.
Witnessing the way you submit fully to him and allowing yourself to be pleasured by his dongsaengs caused a deep desire to grow within him. In all ways but one, you were the one he needed. The endless games he partaken in to assure he found the perfect wife had led him to you.
Your pussy grips Jin’s cock with such need. It’s as if it’s been waiting for him this entire time like a missing puzzle piece. He never wants to stop, he thinks. You’re beautiful underneath the dim lights of the room, eyes dark and clouded with temptation, lust and intoxication.
“You’re gonna cum before I do.” Jin grumbles, his fingernails digging into the skin of your hips. He snaps his hips roughly, the table long moving erratically beneath the two of you. “Go ahead and let go, Y/N.”
You’re flipped, your front slammed against the cold table.You come face to face with Jungkook, who’s eyes sparkle a bit, but you don’t have the time to talk. Jin enters you once more, pounding so deep inside of you. Your hands reach out to hold anything on the table and find nothing - until Jimin takes your hand and allows you to squeeze.
“I have to go to Japan.” Jimin says, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand encouragingly as his hyung fucks you without a care in the world. “Meeting with politicians.”
“Ugh, boring.” Jungkook leans back, arms behind his head as he listens to Jimin speak.
“F-Fuck.” you shake your head, stomach churning with the familiar feeling from early - the one you lost when Jungkook was forced away from you.
“Let go,Y/N. Cum all over me.” Jin says darkly, his fingernails were going to leave bruises on your skin when he was done with you.
Your ass slams against his abdomen, his pounds growing harder and harder by the second.
“To the newlyweds.” Taehyung raises yet another glass of champagne, his words slurred a bit.
You’re seeing white this time, juices pooling out and down your thighs. You squeeze Jimin’s hand in your own, a spew of curse words leaving your lips.
Jin isn’t done - not yet. He continues fucking into you while you squirm underneath him. It was all too much to handle, the overstimulation beginning to hurt a bit. However, the pain felt good and even you found that you were going to cum once more.
“I’m going to take you to our home and fuck you even more.” Jin’s sloppy thrust indicates that he was just as wrecked as you were. A hand takes your hair and forces you back so he can place his plump lips besides your ear. “Y/N…my wife…” Jin groans, milky seeds erupting inside of you so deep. It’s just as hot as you feel, filling you to the brim entirely.
You drop back onto the table with an exhausted huff, eyes fluttering close. Jin remains inside of you, his cum pooling out and filling you up at both a rabid and slow pace. Sweat pools the corner of your forehead and you are about done with the night.
“To the newlyweds.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
“To think it took this long for you to find the perfect one.” Jimin states. You are asleep now. Still naked and on top of the table, weariness taking over your body completely. “One manipulative little bitch she is for tricking that girl. I like her.”
Jin agrees. He pulls his pants up and tightens his belt just as before. “Whatever it takes to win.” he says, placing a hand onto your head and rubbing a bit. “She’ll fit right in.”
More Posts from Bestcocksult and Others
operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru
synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.
contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably
notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P
The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.
Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.
“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.
“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.
“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”
“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”
You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”
“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”
You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”
He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”
“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”
He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”
You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.
His glasses are tilted again. Of course.
You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”
“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”
You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”
“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look.
“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”
You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”
It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.
He doesn’t say anything.
You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.
But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.
Another type. That’s not you.
“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”
He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”
“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”
He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that… a thing?”
“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”
He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”
You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.
You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.
But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.
So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”
He goes still.
His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.
“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”
His jaw tightens.
You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering. Curiosity. Science.”
He finally turns to look at you.
His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.
You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.
Then he shrugs.
“…Nah.”
It slices through the air with quiet finality.
Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.
You laugh. It sounds forced.
“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”
He’s silent.
You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”
“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”
Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.
“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.
And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue.
You knew it was time. Ten years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.
It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.
You’d been doomed since day one.
And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.
But you were young. And hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”
You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.
“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”
“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”
You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”
“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”
You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”
Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.
Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”
You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”
Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”
You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”
She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”
You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”
Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”
You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”
Utahime grinned.
“Whatcha doing?”
Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.
You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”
The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.
He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”
You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.
“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.
You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”
His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring DJ and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”
“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”
“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”
Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.
“Satoru!”
“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just… optimizing.”
Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”
“Nothing~”
You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.
“Give it back!”
“Patience.”
“Gojo Satoru—”
“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.
You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.
“…What did you do?”
“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”
You narrow your eyes, suspicious.
“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”
“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just… considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”
“Good.”
The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.
You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”
He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”
You snort. “You are a guy.”
“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”
You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”
“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.
You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.
“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”
Silence.
It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.
Gojo freezes.
You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”
But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”
You blink.
And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.
“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”
You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.
You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.
Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.
You want to scream.
Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?
Yeah. Not going great.
Not at all.
You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.
Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes—determined, dangerous, hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she wouldn’t let you walk out of her apartment looking like a clown. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.
“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”
You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.
But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked… beautiful.
When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing the edge of your coat. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.
He didn’t notice you at first.
Then he looked up.
His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.
“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”
You blinked. “Hi to you too.”
He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.
He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”
You blinked.
Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.
And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.
You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”
“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”
Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.
But the moment passed.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”
Different.
Not better. Not prettier.
Just different.
You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”
“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.
“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.
In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines.
What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.
He didn’t even notice.
“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.
He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”
Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”
Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”
It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.
Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”
Exactly. That was the point.
You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.
“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”
Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—
Satoru.
In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.
You blink. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”
“At this café? On this side of campus?”
“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”
Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”
“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”
“…Kazuya.”
“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”
You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”
But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”
Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”
“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”
Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”
“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”
Gojo beams. “Told you.”
Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.
“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”
“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”
You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”
Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”
“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”
Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”
You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.
“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”
“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.
“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.
By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.
Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,
“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”
The question hangs awkwardly.
You and Satoru answer at the same time.
“No,” you say quickly.
“Yes,” he says with a smile.
You both turn to stare at each other.
“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”
Kazuya blinks. “Right.”
You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.
“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.
Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”
You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.
Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.
Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.
He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.
You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”
“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”
“By who?”
“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.
You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.
“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”
You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.
“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.
“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.
You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”
He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”
You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.
You don’t answer.
You don’t have to.
Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel… bearable.
Almost good, even.
Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did… maybe it all meant something.
You let yourself believe it, just a little.
And that was your first mistake.
It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.
You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says—far too casually:
“So, guess who asked me out?”
You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”
“Ayane.”
The name hits you like a slap.
You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”
“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”
You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.
She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.
But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.
“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too—I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”
You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”
“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins.
Your stomach sinks.
This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.
But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.
“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.
Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.
It’s that he chose her.
Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him—when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.
You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.
He doesn’t follow.
You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.
For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.
You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”
You go silent.
And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.
You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.
It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.
And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.
You weren’t just losing your best friend.
You were losing the love of your life.
And he didn’t even notice.
It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.
Well—no. That’s a lie.
He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”
But he tells himself you’re busy.
Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.
So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.
But then Friday comes.
And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—
You’d be making fun of me right now.
You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be… you.
Ayane is lovely.
But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.
She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.
He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.
Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.
And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.
He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.
No new messages.
Just the last one you sent days ago:
“Laundry. Rain check?”
And nothing since.
He waits. Another day. Then two.
You don’t show up to class again.
You don’t like his latest meme.
You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.
You are silent.
And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead—realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.
That he didn’t just lose a study partner.
He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.
The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.
And for the first time since he was a kid—
He’s afraid.
It’s been a little over a week.
A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.
And Satoru is suffering.
He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.
But you were always one step ahead.
You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a “you really fumbled the bag” look in her eyes.
Gojo Satoru is… just tired.
Miserable.
So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.
You don’t look surprised to see him. Just... tired too.
“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.
He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”
You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”
Gojo looks down at his feet.
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.
Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”
You glance up.
“I can’t either.”
Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment—God, I thought I was going to—”
“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
The words stop him cold.
“What?” he breathes.
You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”
His heart stutters. You don’t stop.
“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”
He opens his mouth. Closes it.
You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”
He looks like he’s been hit.
“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”
You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.
And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.
Not yet.
Not until he stops you from walking away.
“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.
“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”
Your breath catches.
He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.
“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”
You gape.
“Wait—”
“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”
You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.
“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”
You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”
“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”
He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.
“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”
A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.
“You idiot,” you murmur.
“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”
Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.
“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
You stare at him—this man, this brilliant, ridiculous, loyal boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.
“It’s not too late,” you whisper.
He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.
Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.
“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.
And then, finally, he kisses you.
It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home. Like every unanswered question finally getting its answer.
When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”
You laugh, heart full, forehead pressed to his.
“Mission failed,” you whisper.
He grins. “Good.”
And then he kisses you again.
art by leimiruu on x!
pink hearts & black clouds | jjk. masterlist
Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on
↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader
↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.
But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.
↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, introvert x extrovert, angst, fluff & smut
↠ Word count : tbc.
↠ Warnings : alcohol consumption, swearing, mental health, explicit sexual content (each drabble will outline specific warnings)
↠ A/n : Hi there ; welcome to the masterlist for PHBC 🫶🏻 seven different oneshots to show you a seven different ways this gorgeous couple love one another. Each chapter can be read as a standalone. I hope you enjoy these short snippets of their lives 🦢.
↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G
↠ Status : 0 / 7 released (coming soon) || teaser || prologue
❧ chapter 01 - lip gloss & leather
❧ chapter 02 - lace & chains
❧ chapter 03 - soft & hard
❧ chapter 04 - strawberries & cigarettes
❧ chapter 05 - pretty in pink & brooding in black
❧ chapter 06 - glitter meets gloom
❧ chapter 07 - bubbles & bruises
❧ FAQ
↠ Release dates?
• I will post when I am able to! Mainly on weekends / when I am off work ♡.
↠ Taglist?
• Send me an ask or comment down below.
↠ How do the main characters look in this fic?
• That is completely up to you! Personally, I imagined Golden era!jk. Here is the moodboard which provides you with an insight to both the main characters & the couple themselves!
↠ Side characters?
• Bangtan members - Jungkook’s friendship group (mainly Jm & Th)
↠ Requests?
• I will take requests for this couple once the series is officially complete ♡.
yandere!prince who's 3 months way from becoming king, the citizens and palace have already begun preparing for his coronation.
yandere!prince whos more terrifying than his father, nobles bow before him like GOD, his dark violet eyes gleaming with power.
yandere!prince who's favorite word is obedience, so it's no surprise when you're accepted as his personal maid he revels in your compliance.
"[Name], stand. Now." You're in his chambers holding a bowl of grapes. (he insists you feed him)
you stand.
"spin." you spin.
"lift up your skirt." you blush, giving him an almost disgraced face. as his personal maid, you were treated better but he'd never been perverted. you should have known better.
you move to set the bowl of grapes down anyways, you'd rather be humiliated for a moment then disobey and be forced to the torture many servants were subjected to. it wouldn't be so bad anyways, you had a petticoat under and would only lift the first layer.
the prince moved before you could, a pleasant smile taking up his brown cheeks, "God you really are perfect. I was joking, m'lady." he layed back down on his red velvet couch, motioning with his hands for you to continue feeding him.
now you were even more confused, the prince nicknamed "iron of evil" was making a joke? (and what was m'lady about, you were quite literally a commoner) you set the ruffles back down and continue pricking the grapes from the vine and into his mouth, this was probably your least favorite task he requested you do.
not because it was hard but because the prince was completely different from how he presented himself to the public.
moaning and whimpering exaggeratedly as you fed him the fruit, the worst is when he licks at your fingers, even taking one into his mouth, pearly whiteness flicking around the digit.
he always seemed to be smiling around you, it was worse knowing how horrible he could be to others.
like that time a noble staying temporarily was caught trying to poison him, usually their sentence to death would be immediate no questions asked but this prince loved to play games.
it was in the throne room, two gaurds stood by the captive and the prince stood in front of him ( you standing silently by his side praying they wouldn't behead him in front of you ) .
and after staring at the man for almost ten minutes without saying a word, he turned to you.
"pick a number between 1 and 1,000"
you jumped, eyes flickering between the man and the prince, "don't look at him, look at me. number quickly." he graps your jaw within seconds. you gasp, there was no arguing with the prince.
you stared directly into his eyes, sputtering out a number, "o-one"
"hmm." his grip doesn't falter, instead he turns your face side to side peering at all your features. "would you look at this, you actually have a desireable face."
you didn't know wether to take it as a compliment or an insult.
he finally lets go, "okay, have him drawn in quarterd. i want him out of my sight."
you gulped, guilt shredding at your heart as the man screamed. now you felt responsible for his punishment, though you suspect he would have done anything he liked anyways.
as usual.
the prince kisses your palm bringing you back to the present, he's been like this lately too. becoming affectionate in private spaces ( and in public spaces ), insisting you dote on him, care for him and play good girl all while you face the consequences ( many people think you're secretly sleeping with him, though hes met his suitor many times )
"what are you thinking of, tell me your thoughts love."
you gulped, "well honestly my prince i was thinking this is highly inappropriate and that your should stop so that the both of us will avoid trouble, and also—"
the prince stops kissing you, darkened eyes glaring at you viciously. "[Name]" he said suddenly.
you gulp, regretting your decision to speak up immediately.
"you're perfect, okay? i need you to continue being perfect so that everyone here stays happy alright?" you nod. "and i told you to stop calling me that."
"i-i apologize my-sorry um, Anul."
Anul grins and shifts his body to sit upwards, "good, now come here." he motions to his lap and you sigh, as of the past few weeks this was common as well. he pats his thigh impatiently and you smooth down your skirt to move towards him. his arms are around you before you can even make it on him, his nose grazing your neck, "mm, perfect, all mine, so perfect."
you sigh again and fold your hands over your lap, you wouldn't deny this prince was comfortable to sit on but it was not only highly unprofessional but horribly nerve racking.
you were just glad nobody was in here to see it.
and just then a knock came from the door. you scramble to move but Anul hold on fast, "come in." his voice was like murky water compared to how he was speaking to you before.
another servant maid opens the door, looking at your turned down face for a moment before adressing her reason for being here. "uhm, [Name] has been requested in the chambers by Ms. Jalei just for a quick meeting." Ms. Jalei was the head of all thr maids in the palace.
Anul looks bored at her. "She's busy." and quickly turns back to you, but the maid hasnt left yet.
she clears her throat again, "it's umh, it's urgent." she say looking at you and the man, his arms tighten around your waist. "[Name]? what should i do? seems likes there another pest trying to disturb our peace. number, 1-1,000" the maid freezes up, even she knew was this meant.
your eyes went wide as you looked at him, god not this again. "I-I don't want her to get hurt."
"Oh how sweet. Don't worry she won't feel a thing." Anul smiles devilishly. The maid looks ready to cry.
You turned between them, you hears what happened with the other guy, you didn't know who this was but you certianly didn't want her to get hurt, not because she f you anyways.
"w-what can i do? to fix it, i don't think she deserves such a punishment. it's me there asking for anyways, so what should i do?" you pleaded.
that caught his attention, "What you can do...?" He thought for a moment, "You. Get out."
The door was such in seconds.
"ya' know ever since i've met you [Name] i've just been so much better, i'd really love it if you gave me a kiss. I think i deserve it dont you?"
you gulped, you saw something like this coming, you were prepared. you gave a small okay and Anul shifted so you were sitting on his crotch rather than his lap. "okay here i go." and placed the tiniest contact on his lips he almost missed it.
he blinked, "what was that."
"well, i just kisses you my prince. as you requested."
"that wasn't a kiss."
"well—" you don't get a chance to answer as he cups your mouth with his, your tounge sliding on the roof of his mouth, by the time he's finished you can barely breath. his hands had someway crawled themselves onto your side and he found himself craving you, needing you carnally and more than ever. he lets go.
"that was a kiss, and don't make me teach you again."
Nation’s Sweetheart;; KTH
Word Count;; 4.3k
Genre;; Yandere, Idolverse
Pairing;; Taehyung x Reader
Request;;
“Can do an idolverse w/ Yandere!V w/ a reader who also is in a popular GG but she breaks up w/ because she wants to focus more on her career and V threatens to release something scandalous of her if she does?”
Summary;;
In order to protect both your and Taehyung’s careers, you choose to break up with your long-term boyfriend. While dealing with the usual pain that comes after a separation, you find yourself struggling to explain your actions while also maintaining a healthy distance to safeguard your heart, which isn’t made easy when Taehyung comes strolling back into the picture. Things take a dangerous turn when your past refuses to stay dead and threatens to take you down with it.
Warnings;;
Yandere, blood, swearing, violence, manipulation, abuse and blackmail.
Notes;;
I dislike this one and I didn’t get any input or editing from my sister this time because she’s too busy watching kdrama FMVs!! :’)
Main Masterlist || BTS Masterlist
You felt suffocated.
"Well, well, well,“ Taehyung’s voice rumbled in your own chest as he spoke, his body pressed so close against yours you could feel him breathing. "Looks like our Nation’s Sweetheart is trending again.”
You felt suffocated by his embrace as he held you.
His thighs trapped you between his legs and his feet locked yours to the spot. You were close enough to feel his every movement just as he could feel yours. When you tried to inch away, he’d tighten his hold on you. Like a boa constrictor, he held you in place without an inch to give. Even the smallest shuffle resulted in him buckling down and pulling you closer to him.
You felt suffocated by this thing you called a relationship.
With his global recognition and your rising popularity, you rarely had time to see one another. When you did, the hoops you had to jump through just to keep it hidden was on another level of ridiculous. You wanted a regular relationship, or as much of one as you could manage as an idol, but two idols dating seemed impossible. Dating Taehyung felt so empty - it had been so long since you felt sparks that you wondered if they ever existed in the first place.
You felt suffocated by his touch, by his gaze, by his presence.
You felt suffocated by his love.
Keep reading
Your favorite yandere jungkook ffs? Please recommend some. I am craving for some dark content.
Maybe different from the yandere author writers you have answered before!
Kill to kiss you
White pearl
We belong together
Deception
Millisecond
Watched
My cruel kidnapper
Even in death
Cat and mouse
Dirty boy
@/worldwidemochiguy’s jungkook masterlist.
pre-dating!gojo who has a massive crush on you
pre-dating!gojo who doesn't even try to hide his blatant favoritism
"i'll take over her mission. she needs rest. i'll write a doctor's note. i am a doctor. kind of."
pre-dating!gojo who constantly hits you with horrible pick up lines.
"if you keep looking that good, i might actually die. which would be horrible. for humanity.... okay, i'll shut up now..."
pre-dating!gojo who collects soda tabs so that he can trade them with you for a kiss.
pre-dating!gojo who gives you ridiculous pet names like 'my venti iced white chocolate mocha with extra syrup and sweet cream cold foam with caramel drizzled on the foam..."
pre-dating!gojo who tries too hard to be your hero, even in unnecessary situations. like when you dropped your phone and he did two backflips and defied gravity just to slam it into the wall with his otherworldly reflexes.
pre-dating!gojo who over-explains his cursed technique to you just to seem cool.
"yeah so my limitless technique literally manipulates space at an atomic level, are you even listening?? i can make space dissappear, arent i so cool??"
pre-dating!gojo who will ask for your help for the most simplest things like putting his sunglasses on for him (he asks for a kiss on the forehead for good luck whenever you do it).
pre-dating!gojo who will find a way to make everything about you. it annoys people to bits.
pre-dating!gojo who stares at you like you hung the stars, and he won't even try to deny it.
pre-dating!gojo who brags about you as if you're already dating.
"she laughed at my jokes today, thats basically a love confession! shes so perfect and oh my god her laugh its so.... shoko, you better not have your earbuds in right now"
everyone is begging that you two start dating just so he stops.
little do they know, boyfriend!gojo is ten times worse.
a/n:- even though you didnt ask for this at all, for @deathofacupid cuz girl im lowkey down bad for u. i hope you know that i think of you whenever i write for gojo. while ik that you would love to do....other things.... with him, too, you deserve the cute and the adorable and everything in between too. i hope that one day youll find your gojo who loves you to infinity and beyond because you deserve that and more. ily bro and congrats once more on 2K!
enough of the sentimental shit
Oh, you’re curious about my past works? Well, luckily for you, all the deliveries are neatly archived! Just head over to the Archive of Deliveries and browse through what I’ve sent out in the past. Enjoy the trip down memory lane!
TRAPPED - JJK
read preview. before
read drabble here
1
you were trapped badly
you just couldn't understand where you messed up to have the Jeon jungkook obsessed with you. He was the type of guy no one wanted to mess with and you made sure to keep your distance and be practically invisible to just graduate peacefully.
oh how you wanted to laugh at that thought now
you were in your bed curled up, softly crying while clutching your phone which was blasting up with calls and texts from jungkook.
open the window pretty - 1:03 am
his text read. you closed your eyes shut tightly, a few tears escaping along the way. You knew you were playing with fire by not picking his calls up and not listening to him.
he was a monster
you still remember how he brutally beat up a guy for simply confessing to you. He almost killed him, if it wasn't for you crying and begging him to not do so.
And how could he just watch his baby cry over a stupid stupid boy?
of course he killed him.
but you don't know that.
slowly getting up from the bed you made your way towards the window and softly opened it-your phone still in your hand. Your eyes fell on the figure of jungkook leaning against his black sports car, his arms folded against his chest flexing his biceps. His eyes burning in anger looking directly at you; in contrast to his calm composure.
oh you were im trouble
you flinched when the phone in your hand started ringing and it was none other than him calling you while daring you to not pick up with his eyes.
picking up you couldn't utter a single word it was just your scared body, heavily breathing with a few tears escaping your eyes and dried up tears lingering on to your cheek, looking at him.
"you want a punishment that bad sweetheart?" his deep voice asked and you wanted nothing more than to slam the window shut and curl up in your bed praying he goes away.
"I- no" you pathetically stuttered and wished he heard you "I was asleep and didn't see your texts and calls- im sorry" you rushed to apologise after lying praying that he understands and leaves you alone.
"my baby was asleep, huh? sugar you can sleep all you want but at my place. I thought I had made myself clear"
"jungkook-" you sucked in a breath, his name tasting bitter on your tongue. how were you supposed to make him understand? "My parents won't ever allow that please"
"and you know i can make that no longer a problem"
this made your mind race at a hundred miles, what was he going to do? Was he going to-
"I'm giving you two choices, you either get your pretty little ass here or I'm gonna come up there and you know how that will end"
no no just no you felt like you could cry a river all over again, "please" you meekly let out while clutching your eyes tight
"so you want me to come get you" he nodded to himself and detached his leaned form from the car.
"no- l'm coming"
"that's like my good girl"
jungkook's version
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader x taehyung
word count: 3.7k
co-written with @crybabychim!
read her taehyung's version
warnings: heavy non con themes, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, mentions of physical violence.
Sore.
The only word you can use to describe how you feel right now. An intense feeling of grogginess takes over as you wake up, head pounding and a painful soreness sits in between your legs.
You wish you could say it was only a nightmare. A sick and twisted dream you’ve just endured. However, you physically and mentally can’t say that. Your swollen eyes start to well up with salty tears as you look around the unfamiliar dimly lit room and bed you lay in, remembering the sick events that took place almost a day prior.
You’re cold. A thin gray sheet covering your trembling body, the feeling grosser than ever when you feel something damp in your underwear, threatening to seep down your thighs.
You begin to sob when you realize what it is. You can’t forget the way he handled you like you were some type of object, just a toy for him to use. You hated that you also came multiple times, you couldn’t help how your body was reacting to him.
The bed is empty, you’re left by yourself to be eaten alive by your thoughts. You fear for when he returns from wherever he currently is, scared he may try to do something to you again but even rougher than the first time.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. You immediately shut your eyes before you can see the figure standing in the doorway. Your face is tear stained, but you still attempt to make it seem like you are still asleep.
You hold your breath when the sound of footsteps get closer to the bed, even scarier when they stop. The next thing you know a hand is smoothing out your hair, their fingers running from your hairline down to your jaw. Their hand moves to wipe your visible tears and a wave of chills hits you at the feeling.
You slowly open your eyes, trying to register the face of the person in front of you.
It's not the same guy from before.
This one has long hair, big black pupils, and a very detailed tattoo sleeve.
“Good, you’re awake.” The unfamiliar man speaks up after a minute of pure silence since he’s walked in.
You are speechless, not wanting or knowing what to say. Does he already know what happened? Is he in on this too?
You remain silent, the most you can do is tear up once again as you’re scared of what is yet to come.
“Get up, you need a shower,” is all that leaves his mouth before he begins to pull the sheet from your frail body. His authoritative words make you flinch a bit, but you don’t have the energy to fight back.
He encourages you to get up with a sign of his hand and you execute yourself with difficulty, the bones in your body cracking, making you wince in pain. You can’t ignore the messy state that you are in, shivering as the temperature of the room feels very cold. This situation embarrasses you very much.
He notices your struggle to lift yourself from the bed, leading him to take matters into his own hands and lift you from the mattress. You are surprised at how he isn’t dragging you around like a pet, but his grip on you is assertive.
You feel your face heating up at the fact that your chest is pressed up against his firm one. You immediately pass your arms around his neck as one of his arms wraps around your back, the tattooed one under your butt, your legs still dangling in the air.
He walks only a few steps out of the bedroom and down the hall before opening the new door with his hand that was previously over your back. You enter a rather small bathroom like he’s told you before in the bedroom.
He puts you down and you manage to find your balance, even though you still struggle a bit. He makes his way to the shower and turns on the faucet. He makes his way back to you as the water heats up, yet he doesn’t leave.
“W-what are you doing?” You stumble over words when his hands find their way to the hem of your shirt, threatening to expose your naked body. He stops and stares at you blankly.
“You’re shaking like a leaf, you obviously can’t stand on your two feet let alone take care of yourself.” He states firmly. You’re not some little girl who can’t do anything on your own, you’re a grown woman.
“No, I got it.” You speak without a second thought.
He arcs an eyebrow up, as if not believing you. “And what will happen if you trip over and knock your head into the counter? Have you seen yourself?”
You swallow. You dare to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink, and you aren’t looking good at all. He has a point, but you still don’t want to undress yourself in front of a stranger.
“I’m just here to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I won’t do anything.”
You don’t answer for a few seconds, debating in your head. It wouldn’t be smart to trust him, but it’s not like you have a choice, and anyway, right now you prefer him over the other guy…
You start to pull your shirt over your head with a burning face, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You feel extremely humiliated as you slip out of your panties.
He doesn’t show any signs of lust, actually having a calm and composed expression. You shouldn’t get fooled, though, because he is good at hiding his true emotions.
You cover your naked breasts with your arms, keeping your legs closed so he can’t get a good look at your private parts. “I can wash myself. Can you, please, leave?”
“Whatever. I’ll get you some clothes,” he replies, rolling his eyes. He looks at you one last time before saying, “My name’s Jungkook, by the way.”
And with that, he actually leaves. He closes the door behind him, which relieves you a little bit. He at least agreed to give you some privacy. It’s nice of him, you think, but you shouldn’t get high hopes.
You step into the hot water, your cold limbs feeling more relieved as you stand directly under the shower head. You wet your entire body, about to reach for the citrus shampoo, a smell you recognize from last night, when the sound of the bathroom door opening catches your attention.
“I got you some clothes, this is all I have for you right now.” Jungkook calls over the sound of the shower running while setting the folded clothes on the bathroom counter. Yet he isn’t showing any signs of leaving.
“Hm, okay, thanks… Can you let me finish first, please?” You plead while watching his form move behind the shower curtain.
He’s not moving towards the door though, but closer to you. As you wait for him to leave, he unexpectedly pulls the curtains to the side and your eyes open wide in surprise when he joins you, completely naked.
That’s why he wasn’t leaving, he was stripping down from his clothes, having the intention to enter the shower with you. He absolutely ignored your words of leaving you alone.
You move back instantly, your body hitting the cold tiles of the shower. You again cover yourself with your arms, keeping your mouth sealed shut, paralyzed.
He’s so imposing, even more when naked. You can’t help but stare at him, unable to look at the bottom half of his body, too embarrassed and still shocked by his sudden inappropriate behavior.
However, he doesn’t seem to think there's a problem, instead reaches for the vanilla body wash just as you were about to do.
“Just wanna help you,” he explains, big eyes looking back at you. He looks so serene, and you hate that nothing seems to destabilize him. “Turn around,” he instructs and when you don’t budge an inch, he grabs your arm and moves you himself. You gasp at his straightforwardness, your mind already telling you this won’t end well. He’s already lied to you once, so there's a high chance he’s done it again.
He squeezes the soap into a white loofah, moving your wet hair to scrub your backside, making sure to not miss any part. He moves down to your arms, working his way up to your tits. He slowly drags the loofah back and forth over your pebbled nipples, catching on the way your breath hitches when he does.
After a minute of solely washing your breasts, he brings the loofah to your stomach, each scrub leading his hand lower on your hips.
Jungkook suddenly discards the scrubber, his big hands sinking down to your private parts. He places his head onto your shoulder, his long, wet hair tickling your neck. You try to shove him off of you, but his grip on you isn’t budging, his hand already cupping your pussy.
“You- you said you were just w-washing me,” you frantically spit out, grabbing at his arm that’s on your mound. Instead of answering you, he takes his free arm and crosses it over waist, trapping both of your arms under him.
He takes his pointer and middle finger to spread your swollen cunt open for him to observe. You feel so exposed, so played that he lied to you again after using the excuse of ‘just washing you’ to get his way with you.
“Shit. Taehyung didn’t go easy on you, huh?”
Taehyung. So that is the name of the one who got his hands first on you.
You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts when his index finger makes contact with your clit, pussy clenching involuntarily at the feeling.
“Please, just… stop,” you pathetically beg for him to move his hands. Yet all you get from him is his heavy breathing, and something poking your asscheek.
“You’re sensitive as fuck. Look at you.” He comments as he sees your legs twitching with every rub he gives your throbbing clit, hole slicking up at the stimulation.
Not being able to wait much longer, Jungkook removes his fingers from your pussy, pushing the arch of your back lower, grabbing his now fully erect cock while opening your legs a bit wider than before with his leg.
“No, stop… Please, don’t,” your words are rushed when he forcefully pushes himself inside your swollen cunt.
His thrusts are rough, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his large size, which leads your hole to violently clench around him, making it harder for him to control himself.
“Tae already dealt with you, how are you still so small?” he says through clenched teeth, his tattooed hand going to grab at your jaw, squishing your lips and cheeks.
He forcefully lifts your head up to look at him, leaving you no other choice than to make eye contact.
“N-no, stop, it hurts,” you try to speak when your mouth is being crushed in between his long fingers. He doesn’t listen to you though, repeatedly slamming his cock into you from behind, his pelvis hitting your ass with force within every thrust.
The water is still warm, running down both of your bodies, disregarding the fact that you need to clean yourself. You feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, his cock hitting the right places. You hate that it's starting to feel good, you’re not supposed to be turned on by this.
Before you can reach the edge, Jungkook pulls his cock out of you, leaving your hole empty and gaping. Yet not being able to utter a single word, your body is turned around and he kneels in front of you, his face directly in front of your crotch.
He gives your clit some attention, throbbing when his tongue licks a full stride over it. You whimper when you feel the metal of his lip rings adding the slightest friction to your clit.
You surprise yourself when your hand travels down to grip his long, wet hair. He eats your cunt like a starved man, his nose replacing his tongue when he finds his way back to your hole.
“Tastes better than I imagined, baby, fuck,” he groans before shoving his face back into your sopping pussy.
You slightly grind your hips on his face, feeling him smile against your pussy. You’re shocked at how quick you’re about to reach your orgasm, Jungkook sliding his fingers inside of you to bring you to the edge even faster.
He speeds up the pace of his fingers that are hitting your sweet spot, his mouth sucking harshly on your clit, desperate for you to cum on his face. Your hole clenches repeatedly at the feeling, unable to hold it in anymore, you finally reach your high.
Jungkook fucks his fingers into you through your orgasm, your legs tightening around his head. Your hand on his hair shakes weakly, moaning at the feeling of his lips being still on your cunt, tongue flicking your bud of nerves from side to side.
He stands back up and passes your legs around his waist. Just when he’s about to slide back into you, he notices a creamy ring of your cum at the base of his cock and his fingers, covering some of his dark pubes, a little dripping down to his balls. He can’t help but get more excited than before now that he sees your body is enjoying it.
You moan out at the stretch in this new position, your pussy taking every inch he gives you even though you are sensitive from your first orgasm. Both of your naked chests rub together when he pushes himself closer to maintain the same eye contact as before. His wet abs clench at the feeling, thrusts sloppier than they were previously.
You can’t even lie to yourself, the bulging muscles and strength he has to hold you brings you a tingly feeling in your tummy you’re ashamed to admit. Your nails dig into his sides at the oversensitivity, pussy still quivering around his cock.
A small whimper escapes your lips that you tried so hard to keep from leaving your throat. Your walls tighten up around Jungkook while he never slows down his thrusts, fucking you to reach his own orgasm.
“Yeah, baby. Gonna fucking make me cum too.”
He fucks into your spent pussy sloppily which has you wincing in overstimulation. The pain doesn’t last much longer when you feel his thick ropes of cum filling your cunt.
“Shit, yeah. Like it when I fill you, huh?” He groans into your ear, his soaking wet hair brushing against your face.
His thrusts finally stop when he pulls out of you, cum quickly escaping your bruised pussy. He backs you up from the wall to set you down back onto your feet, legs shaking from how intense he fucked you.
Without a word, he brings your body forward to the shower head, rinsing your body. He rubs his hands over your body, slowly inching down to your swollen pussy as he cleans it of his cum gently. Your face can’t help but heat up at the action, you wouldn’t have expected him to give you aftercare.
He leans over, turning the faucet off and steps out of the shower first. He grabs a towel from the cabinets to wrap around his slim waist, and another to wrap around your shivering body.
You’re still shaking, barely being able to get out of the tub. He places his hands under your underarms, swiftly lifting you up and out of the tub, your feet meeting the cold floor. He’s about to unwrap the towel from you when you tighten your grip around it.
“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” he reassures you. You loosen your hand from the hem of the towel, letting him take care of it.
He undoes the towel from your body, beginning to dry you off. No one has done this for you ever, so you don’t know what to do with yourself. It is odd letting a man you don’t know dry you after a shower.
He admires your body, your smooth skin filled with goosebumps which makes your delicate nipples hard.
Once you’re dried off completely, he leans over to grab the t-shirt for you to wear.
“Arms up.” He instructs when he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you to slip it on. He grabs a pair of black boxers you assume are his for you to wear.
Once he slips the underwear onto you, he wraps his arms around your torso, kissing your jaw and down your neck. You’re flustered, but you don’t make an effort to lean into his touch. How can you react to that after what he’s done to you in the shower.
The sound of the front door being unlocked interrupts the moment between the pair of you. Jungkook removes his arms from around you and grabs a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, slipping them on quickly.
“Tae’s back.” He says nonchalantly. In all honesty, you are most afraid of Taehyung out of the two men for obvious reasons.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
You start to adjust to how things work between the two boys and their routines. It took you a bit by surprise when Taehyung instructed you to sleep directly in between them in one bed. It did make you a bit uncomfortable, but you got used to it.
Jungkook is with you the majority of the day since you’re asleep in the mornings he has class and awake when Taehyung goes to his own. It's as if they have you in ‘shifts’, not ever letting you have alone time or any privacy.
You were bored most of the time, but you’ve found Jungkook cooking to be entertaining. You love watching his veiny tattooed hands prepare meals for you. You hate to admit that it turns you on.
Jungkook never lets you out of his sight, forcing you to be in the room with him at all times. His standards are very strict for you, like his ‘no TV or phone’ rule unless he’s there.
No matter what you do, you are left with no way to reach the outside world. It drives you crazy having to live with constant unanswered questions since they refuse to give you any answers.
“I miss my family,” you mumble under your breath, playing with the food on your plate, which you know angers Jungkook a lot.
“Stop playing with your food and eat it before it gets cold.” Jungkook responds, completely ignoring your comment.
He side-eyes you and you keep looking at your plate, not acknowledging his command, getting him irritated. Taehyung, on the other hand, gives you a sad look with pouty lips, having pity for you.
“Do they even know where I am, if I’m even alive?” You pick at the topic more, not daring to coward away from Jungkook’s irritated look.
“Baby, why are you thinking about that right now? Just eat.” Taehyung coos, going to reach for your shoulder when you dodge his touch.
You groan at him and he doesn’t like this at all, hating when you avoid his touch. You know you’re making both of them angry, but it isn’t any of your fault. They shouldn’t be the ones to be mad, it should be you.
That's when you’ve had enough of their silence. Instead of constantly bombarding them with questions you know they’ll just brush off, you decide to ignore them entirely. Not making eye contact, constantly refusing their commands, and not eating.
“Don’t give into her whims, Tae. It's just gonna give her ideas.” Jungkook speaks, making stern eye contact with Taehyung. You can tell this is something that they’ve discussed before. It was inevitable you’d get curious and ask questions.
You get up to push out of your chair, leaving your untouched plate on the table. You know not finishing your food will strike a nerve.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Jungkook raises his voice, causing you to flinch at his loud tone.
“Obviously nowhere. I can’t leave this stupid place!” You point out as if it isn’t clear enough for them to know.
Jungkook matches your action and gets up too, disregarding your full plate.
“Watch your tone. You’re the one who’s asking pointless questions. Sit your ass back down and finish eating.”
“No! I can’t, I don't want to!” You reply back right away, your eyes starting to water. “I want to know, that’s all I want,” you explain to them almost desperately, almost begging.
Taehyung tries to cool down the situation.
“Let’s all just calm down, okay? I’m sure you’re hungry, baby,” he speaks to you softly, even though you made him upset as well.
“No, I won't calm down. It isn’t fair!” you heave, controlling your tears in an effort to not to seem weak.
“Yes, you will,” Jungkook intervenes, “because if you don’t you’ll regret it. Don’t underestimate what I’ll do, understand?”
“You both have done enough to me but you draw the line at me asking about my family? Just leave me alone.”
“Where is this even coming from? We give you everything, so stop being ungrateful.” Jungkook argues back.
Deflecting from the subject, one of the things he’s best at. You hate when he does it, but you don’t want to fight with him. You physically and mentally can’t.
“You don’t understand! You ripped me away from my family and school. You took everything away, and I’ll never get my life back! The worst thing about this is not knowing anything…”
You can’t hold it in when sobs escape your mouth. You aren’t able to stand up on your feet anymore and let yourself fall down on the floor, curling up on yourself.
As if a switch flips in their minds, they both come rushing towards you. Taehyung is the first to crunch down at your level, worry and pity plastered on his face. He comforts you with his embrace while Jungkook looks guilty, nibbling down on his lip.
After that day, you’ve learned to not question them about anything associated with your past life. All it did was lead to big arguments and lost trust from you. You’ve come to terms that this is your life from now on, whether you like it or not.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
a/n: hiii this is my first post on this side blog! i hope you guys enjoyed it bc there's more to come! lmk if you think I should start a taglist on here!!! :)
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