Pre-dating!gojo Who Has A Massive Crush On You

ANGEL | JJK

in which you finally give into Jungkook

notes: mentions of alcohol, toxic relationship, yandere tendencies?

Angel - Massive Attack ♪

wc: 1.034

He was your last hope. After your mom shut you out for choosing him in the first place and your sister being 5000 miles in another country, he was the only thing in your life left standing.

Your key, that you’ve turned a million times before, feels heavy and uncomforting. You know he’s behind the door somewhere in the apartment, just waiting. Waiting for you to walk in and run back into his arms.

You are to do exactly that. Because at this point, you have no other option. Jungkook had jeopardized your relationship with your family when he made you choose them or him. He made you quit your job so he could take care of you because a princess should never work. You didn’t have any other source of income. He was it. He was the reason you were still alive.

The lock clicks and you turn the handle to open the door, the lights are off everywhere but the kitchen. You don’t see him but you can hear he’s moving around in there.

Gently shutting the door, you walk towards the light and see Jungkook pouring Soju into two shot glasses. The bottle of alcohol seemed to have just been opened, meaning he was still sober. Doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t need alcohol in his system to let you know what he’s thinking.

He avoids looking at you or speaking until the second shot is poured and the sound of you placing your keys on the counter is heard.

“You really think you can leave?” a dry chuckle is heard throughout the rhetorical question. His gaze is dark and intense. Heavy set on keeping the eye contact.

You don’t reply and instead clear your throat, trying to swallow the lump to speak.

“I-” but you can’t say anything else. Every fiber of your being tells you to walk away. To run. To get away from the man that was shouting at you just hours ago, telling you that you were his. That you had no friends or family and that he was the only man and person you should ever be speaking to.

“You can’t leave,” he repeats, sliding the small shot glass filled with liquor towards you. He doesn’t make any effort to get closer to you, but his presence is well enough to keep you there. With the smallest hint of fear and curiosity.

“You can’t. Not after everything you and I have built together. After everything that I have done for you,”

There’s a twisted tone in his words. Like he’s trying to make you feel guilty. Like he knows you owe him everything. At this point, you know it’s not about you, it’s about control. It’s about the fact that you belong to him. Mind, body, and soul. If you try to leave him, it’ll break him. It’s not fair. He gave you everything, and you just want to walk away?

With a slight tremble in your voice you reply, “You don’t own me, Jungkook,” trying your very best to sound stern, as if you still have some control in this conversation. In this relationship.

A hint of something flashes in his gaze, a dangerous spark igniting in the depths of his brown orbs. Only then does he finally let out a sigh and walk to you, still standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

Grabbing your waist he pulls you into him, chest to chest, and turns you around so he’s caging you against the island. His hand leaves your waist and grabs your chin firmly so your attention doesn’t move away from him. Leaning down into your ear, you feel his hot breath, making shivers run down your spine.

“You think you have a choice?” his whispered voice sounds sweet for the words he’s speaking, “You think you can walk away from me when I’ve given you everything you’ve ever desired?”

In a way, it’s true. You’re standing in a multi million dollar apartment with a coffee machine that costs more than a phone. The view outside is something even the higher middle class could only dream of having.

“Ungrateful princess,” he whispers and leans back to look at you. The tears in your eyes threating to fall. With both of his hands he wipes you eyes, free from the sad drops.

“I can make you forget everything,” he murmurs the promise, “You’ll be mine, and you’ll never want to leave,” Even if you want to pull a silly little trick like you did today.

Running from Jungkook back to your parents shitty house? It made Jungkook laugh to see your location there. Shortly after, he made an online purchase for new locks to the place. He’s to pick the double sided door locks tomorrow morning and he’s making sure you come along to see your punishment.

You wouldn’t be able to leave the house unless you were with him. He’ll take both sets of keys with him daily, regardless for how long he is to leave for.

You close your eyes, body shuddering beneath at the weight of his words. You don’t know if you hate him or if you’ve simply given up at this point. Jungkook’s the reason you’re not out in the streets right now.

You’re lost in the darkness and he leans into a hug, kissing your neck gently and wrapping his arms firmly. You’re trapped. You don’t know if you’ll ever escape.

But at this point, perhaps being with Jungkook is better than the cold. Maybe the freedom out there isn’t worth it.

After all, you have everything a person could ask for.

You have the food, shelter, clothes, and expensive items people would kill for. All because of him.

So you hug him back. Letting your tears soak into his shirt while all he can do is smile because he knows you’ve given in. Now you know where you belong. Here. With him.

The More You Struggle, The Tighter I Hold

Synopsis: Jungkook has given you everything, so he doesn’t quite appreciate it when you choose a broke college boy over him.  Themes: chaebol yandere jungkook, rich brat reader, mind conditioning, manipulation, age gap, older jk, nsfw, smut, dubcon, crempie, pregnancy kink

Jungkook has spoiled you rotten for as long as he can remember—lavishing you with expensive gifts, funding your every whim, covering your wishlist without hesitation. Free trips abroad for you and your friends, extravagant dinner dates, even pulling strings to get you into your dream university when your grades didn’t quite meet the requirements. A simple call to the dean, a casual mention of your "relation," and suddenly, doors that should have remained closed swung wide open for you.

He has always been there, protecting you, guiding you, offering advice like a good older brother would. And for years, that’s exactly how you saw him—a doting, dependable presence, someone you could always rely on.

But Jungkook never wanted to be just seen as an older brother.

He wanted more.

Maybe it started the first time he met you, when your father brought you to one of his meetings with Jungkook’s grandfather. You were just ten years old then, a shy, quiet child clinging to the edges of the conversation while he, at sixteen, regarded you as the little sister he never had. Someone fragile, someone to protect.

At least, that’s what he thought his feelings were.

Until you turned seventeen.

That was when everything shifted. Your body began to change—your hips, your chest, the graceful curve of your waist.

Your innocence took on an unintentional allure, oblivious to how you moved, how your body would be pressed into him when you came running to hug him, how you smiled, or how your presence began to unearth something dark and possessive inside him.

That was when Jungkook stopped seeing you as his little sister. And started seeing you as something else entirely.

He saw you as a woman, a woman that should belong to him, rather than that of a younger sister, but you are oblivious to that fact. 

Jungkook’s help isn’t limited to just you—it extends to your entire family, ensuring their unwavering favor, shaping their perception of him as a saint, a savior, a blessing from heaven that they could never repay.

When his grandfather retired as chairman of the Jeon Conglomerate, Jungkook stepped into his rightful position, making sure that your family reaped the greatest benefits from his power.

But those benefits didn’t come without cost…

He had orchestrated everything. Pulled the right strings, made the right moves, and watched as your family’s company crumbled under carefully placed pressure—only for him to appear at just the right time with an outstretched hand and an offer too generous to refuse.

A lifeline. A godsend.

Your father and brother were given prestigious positions within his empire—roles they were woefully unqualified for, yet perfect for keeping them satisfied.

Jungkook knew your father had been embezzling funds from the Jeons for years, a rat biting the very hand that fed him. But Jungkook never stopped him. He never exposed him. Instead, he tolerated it, even allowed it, letting your father gorge himself on wealth that Jungkook could make back in mere minutes.

Because money has never been an issue to him,

It’s not what Jungkook wanted the most…

You are. 

Your family had been consumed by greed long ago, blind to the noose tightening around them as they dug their own graves.

And Jungkook?

He only watched in quiet amusement.

He had always known their sins would serve him one day. That when the time came, their insatiable hunger for wealth and status would tip the scales in his favor.

After all, they were nothing more than beggars dressed in wealth—always grasping for more, always willing to sell whatever was necessary for a place at the Jeon table.

Even you.

And why wouldn’t they? Everything they had—every luxury, every privilege—existed only because of him.

If not for Jungkook, your family would have sunk into bankruptcy long ago.

You were almost just like them—you couldn’t live without gold under your feet. The only difference was that you never took advantage of anyone, never used people for your own gain. 

You weren’t capable of something like that. 

In Jungkook's mind, a kind and innocent thing like you isn’t capable of such sin.

You were just... spoiled. If that was the right word for it. Born into wealth, raised in luxury, never knowing what it was like to beg for anything.

And Jungkook was fine with that.

More than fine.

Because once you became his, he planned on spoiling you even more.

For a long time, everything unfolded just as Jungkook had planned—until he received the most offensive news from you.

“Kookie, meet Hoseok. We’re in the same college department… he’s, um, my boyfriend.”

You introduced him shyly, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s slender frame.

Jungkook sat there, his glass of wine in hand, gaze locked onto the two of you. He looked at Hoseok from head to toe, trying to process what you had just said—as if hearing it aloud would somehow make it more real.

Here you are, standing beside a guy who looked like he had thrown himself together in five minutes—jeans, Converse, and a wrinkled T-shirt that was probably the first thing he grabbed from his small closet.

An attire that's entirely not suited to a luxurious dinner place like this

His nervous smile only made the contrast more jarring.

And then there’s Jungkook, in a perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist—an image of wealth and power that felt completely at odds with this moment.

“You never told me anything about this… guy, baby,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice cold as he set his wineglass down.

Of course, you're twenty now. It's only natural that you’d have a boyfriend. But he never imagined it would be this soon, especially since he’d never seen you show any real interest in relationships.

He always thought your attention was his alone—that no unworthy man could ever steal it.

But it seems he was wrong.

In his mind, maybe he should’ve arranged your marriage with him sooner.

Hoseok stiffened at the way Jungkook called you baby, but he quickly shook off the thought. You’d told him before that Jungkook was like an older brother—maybe this was just how he spoke.

“Well, I always forget,” you said casually, taking a seat and gesturing for Hoseok to join you as you skimmed through the menu.

Jungkook only hummed in response, swirling the wine in his glass.

“U-uh, hi, sir,” Hoseok finally spoke up, his voice tentative, trying to break the tense silence.

You had warned him before coming in that Jungkook might come off as strong and intimidating, but that he was actually sweet underneath it all.

But nothing about Jungkook’s aura felt sweet to Hoseok.

Well—at least to you, Jungkook was sweet.

Jungkook certainly heard Hoseok’s attempt at a greeting. He even glanced at him briefly. But he didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, his attention remained fixed on you.

“Baby, do your parents already know about this?” His voice was calm, but there was something heavier beneath it, something unreadable.

You tensed for a second but quickly recovered. “Kookieeee, please don’t tell them. You know how they can be sometimes. I only told you because I knew you’d be happy for me,” you said with a sweet smile.

You were definitely wrong about that.

None of this made Jungkook happy. Not even a little.

But he chuckled softly, watching how you tried to act cute in front of him, hoping to convince him to keep your little secret.

"Fine,”

Hoseok sat there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable—the way Jungkook’s presence seemed to dominate the space, the way the dynamic between the two of you didn’t quite sit right with him.

This wasn’t how normal childhood friends act, even if you say that you're very close with Jungkook.

Still, he chose to remain silent. He wasn’t about to speak out of turn in front of a man who looked like he could crush him for even the smallest mistake.

Jungkook drained the last of his wine, then glanced at his wristwatch before rising from his seat.

“Well, you two have fun,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Order whatever you want.” He said as he handed you his black card.

“But Kook! I thought you had cleared your plans for tonight?” Confusion flickered across your face.

“Yeah, I know, baby. But you know how it is. I’m a busy man.”

That was a lie.

He had indeed cleared his schedule. This night was supposed to be just for the two of you. But Hoseok’s presence had ruined his appetite.

My driver will pick you up at eight,” he continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You know how your mom doesn’t like you coming home late.”

“Uhh, sir… I actually intend to bring her home myself—”

“Alright, baby?” Jungkook cut him off, his voice gentle but firm, like a parent dismissing a child.

The conversation was already over.

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Okay…” you murmured, the slight sadness in your voice betraying the unspoken truth:

Jungkook didn’t like Hoseok for you.

And he never would.

And just like that, the night ended with you being picked up by one of Jungkook’s driver after you and hoseok finished eating dinner that jungkook had paid for.

Hoseok might not say it aloud, but he hated it…

Hated how Jungkook had effortlessly covered the bill when he could’ve just taken you somewhere he could afford.

It felt like a reminder—like a quiet way of putting him in his place.

And it didn’t help that you wouldn’t stop babbling about how good the food was.

“God, that steak was delicious! It tasted almost the same as the ones we had on our Europe trip…”

Hoseok only hummed in response, already annoyed, his fists clenching at his sides as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. And there it was—a sleek black Mercedes waiting in front of the restaurant, Jungkook’s driver standing there to greet you.

“Good evening, Miss Y/N.”

You barely noticed Hoseok’s stiff posture beside you. “My driver’s here. Bye, Hoseok!” you chirped, flashing him a small smile before slipping inside the car without a second thought.

Hoseok stood there for a moment, watching as the car pulled away, his jaw tightening.

If that’s how Jungkook reacted, then what more if your parents found out you were dating him?

And though you had always been so kind to Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel like he was beneath you—like he wasn’t someone worthy of standing by your side.

A week had passed since that dinner. The one where you introduced Hoseok to Jungkook like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shift the earth beneath your feet.

You honestly thought things were going fine.

But Hoseok had been… gone.

Not in the literal sense—no, he was still enrolled, still somewhere in the city—but he hadn’t attended any of your shared classes, hadn’t shown up at the student publication office where the two of you spent almost every afternoon.

His name no longer popped up in your notifications, no missed calls, no good morning texts.

Just... silence.

A gaping void where he used to be.

You reached out to people, trying not to sound desperate.

But the responses were all the same:

"I don’t know." "Ask someone else." "We’re not getting involved in your drama."

Drama?

What drama?

Everything was going fine. Wasn’t it?

Something in you says that he's avoiding you, but you refuse to accept that, because everything was just fine. Instead, you convince yourself to believe that maybe something has just happened that doesn't concern you, perhaps a family emergency that he has to take care of.

But why is he not messaging you if that's the case? The longer the silence dragged on, the more it chipped away at your patience.

Until finally, you decided you’d had enough.

If he wasn’t going to face you at uni, then you’d confront him at his apartment. You need to get your answers to the questions that have been bugging your mind.

You didn’t bother texting. You didn’t even knock.

The spare key he’d given you months ago still worked.

The lights were off when you stepped inside. Your first impression was that he might not be home—you were halfway through calling his name, just to make sure he really wasn’t there, when you heard something from the bedroom—faint, but unmistakable.

A moan.

You stopped cold.

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

No.

No, no, no.

You moved before you could think better of it, storming down the short hall toward his bedroom. The door was cracked open just enough.

You pushed it.

And instantly wished you hadn’t.

There he was.

Hoseok.

On top of someone, some girl you barely recognized from one of the campus orgs. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back, both of them breathless, gasping, fucking like they had no care in the world until they felt your presence that caught them off guard.

You felt stupid—after all those days of searching for him, calling and worrying, wondering what could've happened to him, only to find him enjoying himself between some other girl's legs.

A strangled noise left your throat as you stumbled back a step. Your vision blurred for a second, and the ringing in your ears drowned out whatever garbled excuse the girl tried to throw on as she scrambled for a sheet.

Hoseok didn’t even flinch.

Didn’t even look guilty.

He didn’t bother covering up. Didn’t even look surprised anymore. Just annoyed.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, pulling away from the girl beneath him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You were frozen, the image of him and that girl still burned behind your eyelids.

“You stalking me now?” he scoffed, reaching for his jeans without shame. “God, I should’ve known you wouldn’t take the hint.”

“The hint?” your voice cracked. “You disappeared on me, Hoseok. You ignored my calls, ditched class—what the fuck was I supposed to think?”

He rolled his eyes, zipping his pants. “That it’s over. That’s what you should’ve thought.”

Your stomach dropped.

“But… you didn’t even—”

“Didn’t even what? Text you some sappy breakup message?” he sneered.

“Why would I waste my time on that? It’s not like we were anything serious.”

Your breath hitched, refusing to believe what he just said, though it was crystal clear.

"You told me you loved me!"

“Yeah, well,” he said, grabbing a shirt and carelessly pulling it over his head, “I say a lot of shit. Doesn’t mean I meant it.”

The girl behind him giggled under the covers, which only infuriated you further, and Hoseok didn’t even glance at her. His eyes were on you, and they weren’t kind like how it was before.

“Look,” he said, “That Jungkook guy? He opened my eyes, alright? You’re nothing but trouble. Ever since I got with you, my grades lowered, fuck, my scholarship's even hanging by a thread. My future is on the line. You dragged me into your chaos and I’m finally fucking done.”

You blinked back the sting in your eyes, confusion tightening in your chest. How was Jungkook even involved in this?

“No… Jungkook wouldn’t do that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok barked a bitter laugh, eyes blazing. “Well, he fucking did.”

“Go cry to your sugar daddy or whatever the hell he is to you. I’m done.”

You were speechless.

As much as you hated Hoseok for cheating on you, there was one person you blamed even more—Jeon Jungkook. The tears came before you could even begin to process it all, a sob breaking in your throat as the pain swallowed you whole. Hoseok didn’t spare you a second glance; he shoved you out of his dorm like you were nothing, slamming the door shut in your face.

You felt betrayed...

not just by Hoseok, but by Jungkook.

How could he sabotage the one relationship that meant the world to you? How could he be so cruel and manipulative, as if destroying what you had would somehow bring him any satisfaction?

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Jungkook had always been your angel, your protector. The thought of him being the one pulling the strings, the one who ruined you, didn’t make sense.

You wanted so badly to believe that Hoseok was just lashing out, making excuses for his betrayal. But no matter how tightly you clung to that hope, his words rang with a cruel kind of truth that you couldn’t ignore.

You didn’t even know how you got here.

After all the drama, the shouting, the betrayal—after all the tears you’d shed in Hoseok’s hallway just this afternoon—you should’ve been curled up in your bed, buried under blankets, trying to sleep the pain away.

But here you were.

At Jungkook’s building.

At his penthouse.

Driven by rage, betrayal, confusion, everything tightening in your chest until your body moved on its own.

You barely remembered how you got through the lobby. The security guard looked up from his desk and blinked in surprise, but when he saw your face, something in his demeanor softened.

“Miss,” he said gently, “You can go right up. He said you’re always welcome.”

Of course he did.

You hated how familiar this was—how the elevator doors opened to his private floor like the building itself was trained to welcome you. You hated that your trembling fingers still remembered the code. The moment the door swung open, his scent was already wrapping around you like a trap.

And you hated, most of all, that he looked happy to see you.

He was standing in the middle of his massive living room, wine glass in hand, dressed in a soft brown sweater and slacks, like the world hadn’t just been shattered around you.

His smile bloomed the moment your figure came into view.

“There you are,” Jungkook said, voice warm and slow, eyes twinkling as he opened his arms for you.

“Come here, angel. I was just thinking about y—”

Instead of a tight hug, all he got from you was a slap in his cheek.

The slap rang louder than you expected.

His cheek snapped to the side, skin blooming red where your palm struck him.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Just stood there with his face turned, lips slightly parted, as if you’d short-circuited something in him.

Silence.

Then slowly, his eyes returned to yours as his calm demeanor didn't change.

A slow smile curled at the corner of his mouth—too knowing, too soft, too smug.

“Ah,” Jungkook murmured, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “So you found out.”

And that was the only confirmation you needed. It was all his doing. A part of you had already known it was him, but you needed to hear it from him, and he delivered.

Your throat tightened, but no tears came this time. You were all cried out.

“So you really did it,” you whispered. “You ruined us.”

Jungkook tilted his head as he eyed you intensely. “Ruined?” he echoed, like it was a foreign word.

He let out a breathy laugh, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“No, baby. I didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “I just reminded him of what he already knew.”

You stared at him in disbelief

His eyes dropped to your swollen, puffy face—red-rimmed eyes and cracked lips. He stepped closer, not to console, but to admire.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle against your cheek.

You slapped his hand away.

He didn’t flinch.

“You had no right,” you snapped, voice trembling with restrained fury. “Hoseok and I—what we had, it was real. He loved me. We were—”

“He was weak,” Jungkook cut in smoothly, “and undeserving.”

“You don’t get to decide that!" You shouted at him as your face flushed red from anger.

“I do,” he said calmly, like he was explaining something to a child.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N? You belong to me. After everything I’ve done for you, for your family, and you still dared to choose him? I was being generous, patient, so fucking kind with you. But let me make one thing clear."

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he grips your chin a little too tightly, leaning in until his lips nearly graze your ear.

"I don’t share. No one touches what’s mine."

Your breath hitched, skin prickling where his words lingered against your ear. It all started to make sense—every sweet gesture, every moment he showed up exactly when you needed someone, the silent ways he looked at you like you were already his. His care had never been brotherly. Not even close. You had been so foolish, blind to the possessiveness hiding behind his soft smiles, mistaking his obsession for affection.

And now that the truth was out, there was no going back.

Your legs felt unsteady as you took a step back, but Jungkook didn’t let you get far. His hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, gentle yet firm, anchoring you in place.

“You manipulated Hoseok,” you whispered, the realization choking out of you. “You wanted to ruin us.”

He didn’t even flinch. His thumb caressed the curve of your jaw, voice steady and low.

“No. I had to ruin him. Because he was in the way.” His smile curved, slow, and sinful. “He was holding onto something that never belonged to him in the first place.”

Jungkook, you used to know, the boy who used to laugh with you, protect you, was gone. In his place stood a man whose obsession clung to you like a vice, dark and suffocating.

He looks like he could kill in this moment, as you keep on throwing hurtful words at him

“You’re fucking insane! I don’t ever want to see you again! I swear to God, I’ll leave the country if that’s what it takes to get away from you!” you screamed, ripping his hand off your neck with every ounce of strength you had. He was too strong. It took force, and it hurt.

You see, Jungkook had always been patient. Painfully patient. If he hadn’t been, he would’ve taken you years ago.

But now? Now the thread had snapped. And the moment those words left your mouth, something inside him broke.

Leave?

You were going to leave him?

After everything he gave you? After everything he destroyed for you?

“No, baby. You’re not fucking leaving,” he said lowly, eyes dark as he stalked toward you like a predator. He gripped your arm hard, making you stumble back, his breath hot against your face.

“Let go! I’ll tell my father everything!”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Want me to dial him for you?”

You tried to fight him, lashing out like a wild animal. The vase by the table shattered as your arm knocked into it, and you didn’t even think—you just grabbed a jagged shard and held it up, hand trembling, eyes wild.

“Stay the fuck away from me, you psycho!”

He stared at you with that maddening calm, like you were amusing. Like, your resistance was cute. And then he stepped forward with lethal grace.

He knew his flowering words and soft tone wouldn't work with you in this situation, you left him with no choice but to use a little bit of force in order to tame you.

“You really think I’d let you hurt yourself over something this stupid?”

In one swift movement, he twisted the shard from your fingers, faster than you could react. Before you could scream, his hand was in your hair, the other on your waist, and your head slammed into the wall with brutal force.

The last thing you heard was your name on his lips before everything faded to black

Your head throbbed painfully as consciousness slowly crept in. The ceiling above you was initially unfamiliar—until the soft fabric brushing against your skin, the scent of expensive cologne, and the dim glow of the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows reminded you exactly where you were.

You're still in his penthouse... in his bed.

You shifted, realizing you were wearing one of your pajama dresses. One you hadn’t worn in ages. One you hadn’t brought here.

A soft voice broke through the fog in your head.

“You’re awake,” Jungkook murmured beside you, his fingers gently stroking your hair, eyes filled with something unsettlingly tender. “You hit your head, baby. I had to take care of you.”

For a fleeting second, you saw him—the version of Jungkook you used to know. The kind smile. The boy who was always there. But you forced yourself to push that illusion away. That version of him is just an illusion, a facade to his true, dark intentions.

You scrambled off the bed in a panic, nearly tripping over yourself as you ran to the door. Locked. Every other exit—locked. No keypad, no handle you could pry open. You darted from one end of the penthouse to another, only to find nothing but dead ends.

“It’s no use,” Jungkook said calmly, standing from the bed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he watched you look for an exit.

“You’re staying here now. I’m not letting you run away from me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” you snapped, voice cracking with disbelief.

Then you saw it—all your designer clothes, your bags, your makeup, your shoes, tucked neatly in his walk-in closet like they belonged there.

Like you belonged here.

You spun to face him, breath short and broken.

“You moved my things…”

“I’ve been preparing this for a while,” he simply said as he slowly walked toward you.

“This is insane,” you whispered, eyes wide with disbelief, your voice trembling before it exploded into a scream. “My parents—they’ll come for me! You’re gonna pay for what you’re fucking doing!”

Jungkook chuckled low, dark, and slow, like he found your defiance amusing. He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with possessive fire as he tilted his head. “Come for you?” he echoed, voice almost mocking. “You mean your greedy parents who work for me now?”

He leaned in, voice dipping into a growl against your ear as he added, “Sweetheart, they’re the ones who sent all your things here. They were more than happy to hand you over to me."

And that’s when it hits you—you’re alone in here, with no one to run to. Even your parents betrayed you, their only daughter, all because they were too blinded by the money Jungkook has.

"No! This is impossible. My parents wouldn’t do that—Jungkook, please," you begged, falling to your knees as you wrapped your arms around his legs. At this point, you didn’t even know why you were begging him. Desperation? Hope? A final plea for the version of him you once knew?

But empathy was the last thing on his mind.

Instead, the sight of you, broken, pleading, lips trembling as you whispered his name, only turned him on.

There was something so intoxicating about having you like this, so helpless and pretty on your knees, as your plump lips were wet with your tears.

Sooner or later, he'd have you crying for something else.

"Shh, sweetheart," he cooed as he crouched down to meet your level, brushing your hair back with a gentleness that contradicted the madness in his gaze. "Stop crying. You’re going to learn to love it here. This is your home now."

Indeed, you had no choice but to stay in his penthouse for these past few weeks, trapped in his world with no way out. Your days blurred into one another, a monotonous loop of routines: a cold, solitary bath, forced meals, and endless hours spent staring at the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You waited for Jungkook’s return, your mind spiraling as the isolation ate away at your sanity.

The silence was maddening. The lack of human contact drove you to the edge, and desperation took hold.

You missed the life that you once had, partying and going out with friends, attending classes, and so on, so you tried to escape, of course.

The first time, you managed to hurt one of his security guards as you scrambled your way out, though it was of no use as there were too many of them.

The second time, you threatened to harm yourself with a kitchen knife if they didn’t let you out.

That was when Jungkook decided that enough was enough. He began working from home, his eyes always on you, keeping you under his watchful gaze, with every sharp tool that he thought you could use to hurt yourself are now hidden or moved away.

"Ahhh... please stop!" you pleaded as a harsh slap landed on your bum. You were bent over, turned around with your tummy pressed against his knees as he spanked you (if that makes sense).

"Fucking stubborn woman! What did I tell you about lying, huh?!" he growled, landing another slap to your ass. The dress you were wearing had ridden up, exposing your bare core—he hadn’t allowed you to wear any undergarments.

You didn’t know why, but your body had been so needy and hot these past few days. You’d been getting wet out of nowhere, so turned on that you ended up touching yourself in the bathroom whenever he wasn’t around—too embarrassed to let him see you like that.

And just like now, you were already soaked from the way his rough palms met your skin, each slap sending a sting of heat through your core, making you tremble with want.

It was humiliating… and unbearable.

But of course, Jungkook knew everything.

He’d been slipping aphrodisiacs into your meals every time he forced you to sit on his lap and eat like a baby. And yes—he knew how you secretly touched yourself, thanks to the hidden cameras planted all over the house. He got off on watching you fall apart when you thought he wasn’t looking, addicted to how lewd you’d become under his control.

“Dirty whore,” he sneered, fingers suddenly sliding down back and forth to your slick folds. “You’re even getting wet from this, huh?”

You shuddered instantly, a sharp moan ripping from your throat as his fingertips grazed your sensitive pussy lips before spreading it with his fingers, exposing just how soaked and desperate you truly were.

“Look at you,” Jungkook muttered, almost amused as he ran his fingers along your soaked slit, spreading the slickness just to watch you twitch. “Dripping all over my lap like a fucking slut. Getting off on being punished?”

You whimpered, face flushed with heat, your fingers curling into the fabric beneath you as his touch sent sparks down your spine. His voice was low and mocking, but it lit you up in the worst way.

“You act like you hate it,” he said, dipping one long finger inside you without warning, “but your cunt tells me the truth.”

A breathy moan escaped you, hips jerking as the digit curled deep inside. He moved slowly at first, dragging it out just to watch your body react. Then he added a second, scissoring them apart, stretching you as you gasped.

“Such a filthy little thing. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this, huh? My fingers inside you while you grind your pathetic pussy on the bathroom sink,” he hissed into your ear, his fingers now pumping with more force. “You like being watched, baby? Knew I’d see you eventually?”

You couldn’t even form words anymore—just broken moans and whines as your walls clenched around him.

Then came the third finger.

You cried out, your legs trembling as he stuffed you full, knuckles deep now, fucking you rough and slow, like he wanted to feel every desperate flutter inside you. The stretch burned and thrilled you at once, leaving you clawing at his thigh, right on the edge.

So close. You were right there. Vision hazy, thighs slick and shaking, pleasure curling so tight it hurt.

But then he stopped.

Just like that—everything halted. He pulled his fingers out, slow and wet, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing.

You gasped, back arching as if trying to chase the feeling, your body trembling with frustration.

“N-no—please!” you cried, writhing against him, your once stubborn self now long gone, like a passing rain as you begged “Please, Jungkook… don’t stop, please—I need it, I need you—anything!”

He held his slick fingers up to your lips, eyes dark with twisted satisfaction. “Anything?” he smirked. “Then beg like the needy little cumslut you are.”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes glassy, lips parting as you leaned in—desperation burning in your gut.

“Yes—please, Jungkook. I’ll be good. I swear. Just—please—”

But he didn’t wait for you to finish.

He pressed his fingers against your lips, the same ones slick with your arousal, and you moaned as you eagerly opened your mouth, sucking them in like they were his cock. Tongue swirling, lips sealing tight around each one, you cleaned them with such obedience it made his cock twitch beneath you.

His jaw clenched as he watched you, his breath shallow, eyes dark and gleaming.

Fuck.

The drug worked.

He knew it would, but seeing the result was another thing entirely.

There you were—his once defiant little brat—on your knees, brain fogged, drooling around his fingers like they were candy. Completely unaware. Completely his.

So sweetly fucked up that you didn’t even care anymore that you were locked in here. That he owned your body, your mind, your every breath.

And now, after all your pathetic little protests, you were begging him to touch you? To fuck you?

Thought you hated me, sweetheart. Thought you wanted to escape.

His cock throbbed at the thought—how far gone you were. How easy it had become to twist your desire into obedience.

And he wasn’t even close to done.

Jungkook slowly pulled his soaked fingers from your mouth, watching your tongue chase after them like you couldn’t stand to be without the taste.

“Good girl,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “You want to be fucked that badly, huh? You want to be ruined?”

You nodded, whimpering as you pressed your thighs together, slick leaking down the insides of your legs. “Yes—please, please—kookie"

That was all it took.

He gripped your hips with bruising force and dragged you down off his lap, flipping you over like a ragdoll onto the plush carpet. You barely had time to gasp before he was yanking his sweats down, cock already thick and hard, veins throbbing with anticipation.

“Then take it,” he growled, grabbing your thighs and spreading you open. “Take all of it, slut.”

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust.

Your back arched, a choked scream bursting from your lips as he buried himself to the hilt—stretching you so deep, so full, it knocked the air from your lungs. There was no time to adjust. He didn’t give you that luxury. His hips were already snapping into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls as he fucked you raw.

“God, listen to you,” he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. “Crying on my cock like you were made for this. And maybe you were, huh? Just a filthy little hole to fill up and break down.”

Your mind was gone—drugged, drunk off him, off the stretch and the heat and the possessive grip he had on your body. Your moans turned to sobs, pleasure slamming into you over and over, your nails clawing at the floor as he pounded into you without mercy.

“Gonna come?” he mocked, voice ragged, hips grinding against you with devastating precision. “You’re already close, aren’t you? Fucking pathetic. All it took was a few slaps, a little drug in your food, and now you’re creaming all over my cock like a whore.”

You could only moan his name in response—broken, needy, soaking him with every thrust. The coil in your gut tightened so violently you couldn’t breathe, your body ready to shatter.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, his voice like poison and silk.

“Then come for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel this ruined cunt squeeze around me.”

And just like that—you snapped.

Your orgasm hit like lightning, legs trembling, walls clenching around him so tight it dragged a feral groan from his throat. He didn’t stop—riding you through it, fucking you harder, chasing his own high.

“Take it,” he grunted. “Take every fucking drop. Gonna put a baby in you, gonna make you round and full"

With one final thrust, he slammed deep, spilling inside you with a guttural moan, cock pulsing as he filled you full. Your body jerked, overstimulated and wrecked, tears sliding down your cheeks as you lay there trembling under him.

Breathless and used

And Jungkook—still buried deep inside you—grinned.

The room still smelled like sex.

Your body was limp in his arms, skin marked with his touch—red, bruised.

Jungkook hadn't let you move much after he’d fucked you into the floor. He'd simply gathered you into his lap, his cock still wet with your slick, and held you there, stroking your hair like you were the most precious thing he ever ruined.

“I think it’s time,” he murmured against your temple, voice soft. “You’ve been good lately.”

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, dazed and exhausted. “Time… for what?”

“To go see your family.”

Your breath caught.

He chuckled. “Under my watch, of course. couldn't let you be naughty"

Jungkook knew he couldn’t keep you locked up forever. That would only risk bringing back your stubborn streak. No—rewarding you with a bit of freedom was the smarter move. After all, you were already too blind to see that any of this was wrong.

You should’ve felt uneasy or angry, like the first time he brought you here. But you didn’t.

Not anymore.

Now, you understood.

Jungkook was right. He did know what was best for you. You were wrong to think the man you once loved was gone. He wasn’t. He never left. He just needed to tame you—to show you who you truly belonged to.

“Thank you, Kookie,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to the only person who ever really saw you.

clearly pleased—finally seeing you with the man they had always wanted for you. It wasn’t just approval in their eyes anymore… it was pride. As if they, too, had finally earned their seat at the Jeon table.

You sat quietly beside Jungkook, his presence towering even in his silence. His hand rested on your thigh beneath the table, firm and possessive. Every so often, he’d squeeze—his palm sliding just a little higher, fingers teasing slow circles into your skin, right where it made you press your legs together.

And then he walked in.

Hoseok.

He wore an apron now, working as a server at the restaurant your parents had chosen. His eyes widened when he spotted you, tray in hand—probably shocked to see you after the messy breakup you had with him.

You should have felt mad that he was there—should’ve remembered how deeply you once loved Hoseok, loved him enough to choose him over Jungkook, again and again.

But you didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

Because now you knew. You remembered what Jungkook told you—what he made you see.

Hoseok had never loved you. Not really. He’d cheated on you. Lied. Gaslit you into thinking it was your fault.

Only… he hadn’t done it on his own. Jungkook had orchestrated it all—manipulated things behind the scenes to tear you away from him.

And you weren’t even mad about it anymore.

Because he’d been right all along.

You didn’t belong to Hoseok. You never did.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh again and leaned in close, his voice low but unmistakably proud.

“We’ve been trying for a baby,” he said loud enough for Hoseok to hear, tilting his head just so. “Finally setting a date for the wedding too.”

You blushed on cue, eyes falling to your lap, but you didn’t pull away when he kissed your cheek—didn’t protest when his arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer.

Hoseok’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but then he nodded stiffly and focused on serving your family before he turned back to the kitchen, defeated.

Good.

Jungkook’s fingers traced idle circles on your hip, slow and smug.

“That’s right, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. Always were”

neighbours, lovesick & infatuation.

jungkook x y/n

had you explained your current situation to anyone in your life, they would surely call you insane. they would ask you to move out or even call the police. they would question both your sanity and actions, muddle your feelings for illness whilst labelling you as crazy. instead, you sat and you stared. stared back at the man who lived in the apartment building opposite your own, who would sit quietly in his bedroom chair openly observing you.

you couldn’t tell anyone else, not really, because you too were at fault. you would sit, on your bed, sometimes pretending not to notice and other times giving him a show. a dance between two complete and utter strangers, not a single word discussed.

two individuals enamoured by one another. observing, with land, air and glass separating them; so why did he feel so familiar? why did your mind race at the thought of evening come, knowing your carefully planned routine would begin? brain hazy and eyes lidded, you’d come home to watch the tattooed boy across the street and he too, would do the same.

—————

being an office worker was the bane of your existence. despite feeling like a walking, misogynistic trope straight out of a film, it was unfortunately a truth to your life. you would wake up early, put on your makeup and pretty skirt, heels high and hair do only to be disregarded and dismissed with every opportunity.

you were better than everyone on that team. you knew it, they knew it - but being the only woman meant they weren’t willing to acknowledge it. you would work long hours, often overtime as your colleagues would shamelessly pile their documents on your desk, only to come home exhausted and upset.

that was the first time you saw him. the man across the street.

a day like every other, returning home with pained feet and tear streaked skin. they had been particularly rude to you, with you returning home two hours later than expected as they all went out to celebrate their new branch opening. you were quiet, to an unspeakable fault, but why did they have to take advantage of it? you wanted to be noticed, you wanted someone to see you for once beyond it all.

you entered your room, blinds drawn as quiet sniffles filled the silence. the only perk was the incredible pay, which allowed for such a beautiful apartment overlooking the city.

jungkook, across the road, was in a similar predicament. he, too, felt overworked and exhausted. with the recent merger at his company undergoing, his business had doubled overnight. suddenly, the weight and expectations of what felt like the world now rested upon his shoulders.

with an apartment that felt too cold to bare at times; he trudged to his room, sighing loudly as tattooed hands ran over his face. he didn’t know what he needed, simply knew that he needed it badly, finding himself perching on the seat that faced his window. the blinds were drawn and he exhaled again, eyes flickering over the skyline unimpressed before they fell onto something much more interesting. you.

his eyebrows furrowed. people usually kept their bedroom blinds closed, although he felt his brain contradict as he too sat before an open window. his brain silenced within seconds once his eyes set on your face.

you were crying, yes, but your lips were puffy. cheeks full and eyes screwed shut as you pulled pins out of your up do, heels scattered around the room and chest heaving. he watched you, almost comically, fall onto your bed whilst sniffling. he couldn’t hear you and yet he swore his heart was beating so loud that had he strained enough, he would hear small little whimpers. he couldn’t look away.

he was insane, he was genuinely insane. what was this sickening feeling gripping his brain? he felt like a pubescent boy looking at a woman for the first time, but these emotions were beyond him. the mere sight of you was overheating his body, and he was alarmed to say the least. he screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, but you remained in your position and as did he. he began loosening his tie, and before he could think any further, he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

after a few more minutes, you rose. slow puffs of air left you as you regained some composure, sniffling whilst wiping the black mascara from your cheeks. you looked a mess, a juxtaposition to the effort you put in every single morning.

you found yourself sauntering around your room, picking up a set of pyjamas and slowly readying yourself to have a shower. you picked up one heel, walking to the other which sat next to the window, raising your back to stand up straight with it in your hand when you finally saw.

jungkook.

he stood. watching. eyes wide, not in embarrassment of being caught, but an almost childlike curiosity. you flinched, slightly, in shock that someone was so openly watching you.

your first instinct was to cower, to shut the blinds and move away immediately. you, however, did not.

you found yourself stood there. unmoving. gaze connected to the doe eyed man, observing him as he observed you. it was odd, to be so open with a stranger. it fought against every moral and social understanding you both undoubtedly shared.

you roamed over every inch of him, lips parted and nose still sniffling. black, thick hair styled messily on his head - he had been running his hands through it, that much was clear to you considering the way it stuck at one side. his lips parted and bitten red, his nose scrunched slightly and his eyes. his eyes wide and curious, understanding and confused all at once.

jungkook stared at you, too, your appearance mimicking his. for a woman who had been crying so helplessly moments ago, he truly had been rooted to his spot at the mere sight of you. what was happening, what was he feeling and why was it gripping the ridges of his brain like a vice?

after what felt like eons of merely staring at each other, both unmoving, he made the first move. he had loosened his tie earlier and it now sat pooled at his feet. he moved, slowly unbuttoning his shirt further whilst staring at you.

it was then you noticed the look of exhaustion on his face, the way his chest heaved in what could only be a deep sigh. milky skin revealed to you as he perched, thighs resting wide and shoulders slouched, arms resting on the chair. your move, he wanted to say.

your insides were burning. was this really happening? a greek adonis with his shirt half opened, legs wide, slouched in his seat watching you?

your fingers fumbled with your own outfit, your silk blouse untucked from the tight pencil skirt and beginning to unbutton. jungkook watched as the material slowly fell from your body, his mouth watering and eyes narrowing.

your hair followed, the final pins releasing perfectly blown out hair that sat perched on your chest, reddened eyes sparkling as they modestly hid you away from his prying eyes. you laid on your bed that faced him, arms under your face, all pencil skirt and sheer tights.

you both spent hours looking at one another that night, not a single word spared, but a cocktail mix of tension, passion and comfort shared. a man you had never met, the stranger from across the street, your neighbour in the sister building to your own - why did he feel safe?

jungkook watched as you slowly fell into sleep, makeup still smeared on your face and your body still partially hidden away from his eyes. in the span of a single night, you had stolen something deep inside of him with no intention of its return. in a single night, you became his, but more importantly - he had become yours.

—————

this little scenario continued on for months, first happening every now and then before becoming frequent. now, you found yourself unable to sleep at night without your eyes locked on the bambi eyed man from across the street.

always scantily dressed, the two of you would perch after work, weekends, and holidays. he in his chair, you resting on your bed. you would wake up, and he would no longer be there, but the warmth between your legs would serve as a reminder of his presence.

you couldn’t tell anyone, not your friends nor the very few coworkers you enjoyed. no one would understand, no one would encourage such behaviour, they’d call you insane or a creep. they’d call him worse, you were sure but you didn’t care. he was yours, in a weird way. he belonged to you. you belonged to him too.

jungkook, too, was fairing no different. he found himself working harder at work; pushing himself to the point of exhaustion just so he would finish and come home at the same time as you. weeks of deduction had confirmed to him that you finished work, usually, at 8 - awfully late for an office job, but as a CEO, he often worked longer hours. his employees were in awe at how much work he took on, but none could be privy to the dirty secret as to why.

he would sit in his chair, trousers hung low on his waist with his tie and shirt discarded, hands running through his hair as he simply watched you. he yearned to know your name, what you sounded like, would you be comfortable cm’s apart from him or would you cower shyly the way you did at the beginning? he was enamoured.

for the first time in years, he felt genuine comfort. it was ridiculous and made no sense, to the extent in which he knew this would damage both his reputation and career had anyone found out. you were his little secret, and he yours - he couldn’t help wanting more.

you both had reached a fever pitch, you couldn’t return to what once was. you had each other now, and even though this was only the beginning, it was a fact understood between you that this could not end.

————

“enough. you’re always holed up in that apartment, you’re young and you’re sexy - it’s time you let the world see it too.” your friend, yejin, grumbled whilst pulling things out of your wardrobe.

you huffed, dressed in your pretty underwear and silk robe. the blinds were closed today. you couldn’t bring yourself to open them whilst you had company.

“i want to stay at home and relax. that fucking job stresses me out enough, i don’t want to get drunk and then spend sunday healing.”

she rolled her eyes. “too bad. you’re wearing this.”

you felt the dress fall onto your stomach, looking down at it with a sigh.

“seriously, y/n. i’m worried about you, okay?” yejin sighed, turning around to properly face you before sitting next to you on the bed. “they treat you horribly and then you hole up inside, you haven’t come out in months.”

“i’m fine.” you shook your head. how do you explain that your pretty neighbour from down the street ogles at you for hours and it relieves your body of every inch of stress? not quite as easy as one would think.

she groaned, loudly before grabbing your arms lovingly. “for me. please.”

she had such a way about her that you simply couldn’t say no. you match her groan before walking into your bathroom, getting ready just as she wished.

one hour of getting ready and another pregaming, you were finally ready to go. a few of your other friends were joining, all bouncing around your apartment with various drinks as you waited on your ubers.

you found yourself shimmying in, already slightly tipsy with giggles in a too short dress and heels that were much too high. you cramped against the window, letting the breeze hit you as you rest your head on the car door, the car beginning to move.

as the driver drove down your street, you noticed a car approaching on the opposite side of small driveway that separated the two apartment complexes. your brain was hazy as you watched sleek black metal slide by, your eyes peering to the driver.

your breath hitched.

eye contact, no longer than a few seconds but enough to cement a drumming in both your chest and between your legs. jungkook driving by slowly, his eyes trailing over your features up close, drinking every curve and ridge as though his life depended on it.

you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, the moment passing by before you could really do anything, two cars going in opposite directions; but he was all you could think about. all you wanted. fuck.

the rest of the night was spent nursing drinks, dancing and resting, eyes shut and open wide, doing everything you could possibly do to rid the image of his lip ring. seeing it up close allowed it to catch the light, and you could have sworn he looked like every sin personified.

you felt stupid, as you stood at the bar whilst your friends danced. your back to them as you swirled your straw in your drink, your brain only growing hazier by the second with the thought of him. he had this effect on you, but did he even care? maybe you really were insane, acting so needy over a man whose name you had never even heard - a man who may potentially not want you the way you yearned for him.

shame trickled into your spine as realisation hit you like a truck, a bucket of ice trickling down every inch of you. what were you doing? you wanted to go home, you wanted to close the blinds. he didn’t want you. of course he didn’t, if he had; he would have found his way to you. hazy mind and dizzy brain, you turned around, mood suddenly sour, wanting nothing more than to just leave.

you faced a black shirt.

your eyebrows furrowed at the sight. broad chest and wide shoulders, clad in a black shirt messily tucked into trouser slacks. a suit that looked much too expensive for the club you were currently in, with hands caging you into the bar on either side. those tattoos, so familiar - they felt like home.

your breath hitched as you found yourself wetting your lips, shifting from foot to foot, slowly allowing your eyes to shift upwards. chest to neck. neck to jaw. jaw to lips. lips to doe eyes.

for a moment, silence.

jungkook exhaled deeply, his chest constructing against his shirt as he caged you closer to the bar, finding himself pushing you back into it with each and every step he took towards you. seeing you in that uber, for no more than a few seconds, had drove him insane. he found his brain short circuiting, his mouth parted and his cock thrumming. his, pretty girl, all dressed up before his very eyes.

your friends in the uber were chatting loudly, and he had heard momentarily the end of a sentence, something to do with flonk, a word jungkook registered as the name of hobi’s new club. he had been begging him to come check it out for weeks now, but how could he give up a night of you in the name of too loud music and drinks? though you did not share the same sentiments, he couldn’t help but turn the car around and finally take his close friend on the offer.

he had watched you, like he was accustomed to, from the privacy of his private table alongside his 6 friends. they sat upstairs, overseeing the club, though his eyes remained on you. unable to join conversation, he watched as you danced, lips parted and hands around your various friends. you seemed dazed, mind far away and confused. you needed home, he understood. you needed him, dark eyes staring you down and giving you the comfort you so desperately craved in order to relax.

he watched as you separated from your group, turned towards the bar. he watched as your eyebrows furrowed and a look of shame washed over you and it chilled him to the bone. he found his feet walking towards you, and his hands reaching towards the metal surrounding your body before he could stop himself. he had enough of watching. it was time to act.

you stared up at him, mouth slightly agape and breath hitching. he found himself stepping even closer, your bodies beginning to press against one another.

“fuck.” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure he had even said it. you heard.

the haziness grew stronger, your eyes drooping in a sense of comfort but your body contorting in pure fire. you could feel him against you, your heart beating loudly and your core pulsating.

“you were just gonna leave me, baby?” he found himself asking, his head pressing against yours. “would have waited for you. would have waited all night.”

you found yourself whimpering, almost pathetically as you pressed further into him, your hands sliding to his chest.

“w-wanted to come home.” you closed your eyes.

“yeah? come home to me? can’t sleep without me, hm?”

his words were sin. you didn’t even know each other’s names but you were both enamoured. breathing each other in as though you were parched and finally sipping water. his arms moved from the bar to around your waist, pulling you in until you were now fully pressed entirely into him.

he nudged your nose with his own. “what are you doing to me?”

you opened your eyes, breaths mingling from how close you were. what was he doing to you?

“my head…i can’t think.” you whined, so overwhelmed with hands slowly trailing upwards. you wanted to run your hands through his hair.

he was here, finally here and you couldn’t stop yourself.

jungkook groaned once one of your delicate fingers finally sought refuge in his head, his mouth slowly trailing downwards to your neck. he began placing pepper kisses, slight and airy as though he was hardly there, breathing in your scent like you were his personal brand of heroin.

“don’t need to think, baby. i’m here.” he promised.

you nodded. you didn’t want to.

you both remained clutched onto one another, too close to be deemed strangers and yet, really, that was what you were.

the slick between your legs was growing with every second, slow whines leaving your lips as jungkook pressed kisses on your neck. harsher with each kiss, a promise etched into each one.

he was no better. he had already fisted his cock to the thought of you this morning, and now with the tangible feeling of you in his arms, his body pulsated without warning.

“i don’t even know your name.” you exhaled, half moan, half sigh.

“jungkook.” he whispered against your neck through kisses, seeking your sweet spot. “what’s your name, baby?”

“y/n.”

he closed his eyes, groaning quietly. “even your name tastes sweet.”

had you known his voice sounded like this, or his touch, or his mouth - god, you wouldn’t have stayed away. you would have broke glass, and closed the distance in any way possible. how could you ever get enough.

you gripped his hair slightly, pushing him up enough to look at you. “i w-want you.” you admitted, suddenly riddled with the remaining anxiety from earlier.

“i was yours from that first night, y/n.” he stared, fingers raising your chin. “my brain doesn’t fucking work unless it’s occupied with you, can’t work, can’t sleep. can’t rest till i see you sleeping nice and safe.”

his words left you a whimpering mess. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and that was a sickening revelation. were you both as insane as each other? enabling the no doubt disturbing nature of your relationship?

“you make me feel so good, jungkook.” you murmured, brain hazy with want. “make me feel safe.”

“good baby. that’s what i want. you’re mine, and i’m yours. gonna make sure you feel like that, always.”

“please.” you nodded.

he lifted your chin again, unable to stop himself. he wanted to devour you whole. he wanted to transfer the electrify that was burning through his veins to show you the true extent of his words. his brain felt lovesick, and the more you watched one another, the more he never wanted to get better. your eyes drooped, falling onto his mouth, him mirroring you. with hitched breaths and shaking hands, he finally pressed his lips to yours.

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 & 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓

♰pairing; preacher!jk x reader x cowboy!jm

♰word count; 4.6k

♰genre; smut, horror, angst

♰tw; dead dove do not eat, drowning, heavy non-con, dacryphilia, oral, penetration, mentions of blood, depiction of religion, gruesome details of death, physical and verbal violence (jk has a serious rage problem), alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of jk wanting to have sex as a teen.

prev//next

"Love. Sweetheart, stay with me a lil' longer, please. Fuck, Jeon, she's dying on me." Jimin bellowed, a halo of violet light outlining his silhouette as dry cornfields passed by the sides of the truck, your body bouncing with the truck's turmoil from side to side.

You looked down and saw your numb leg, the dark hole of burnt skin that Park soaked with a misty liquor. His awake and worried eyes, the dried blood of your lusts on his lips, the new blood that the wound vomited out, covering his hands, becoming thicker and purer.

Your shoulders slumped, your head resting on the back window of the truck. The two men were fighting, but that was just as the murmur of crickets and moths.

The sky was infinite, domed with stars, all subtly arranged in the perfect position. You saw among the sequins of God, all your dresses and the damn heels in which you had to squeeze your growing body. How Miss Texas' adorable smile became a pathetic white plate without emotion.

And oh, you knew that the fall of a star was inevitable, but not even the flame began to die when you were already sunken between the rocks and the soft grass caressing the last spark, your first tears of acceptance. And in the grass, you dozed, feeling sorry for your own useless body, the plastic crowns, the gold, and the memories of the applause.

"No! Stay." A slap brought you back to the hard floor of a barn. The unknown man grabbed your cheeks and choked you with a long, bitter drink of homemade liquor.

The little light came in from a window in the wooden ceiling, the heat emanating from the hay and wool piled in the corner, leaving a strong smell, you groaned before vomiting to the side.

"Fuck, Jungkook. She's not a fucking animal, you're going to make her faint." Jimin pushed his partner. Jungkook swallowed hard. His pale, neat face was dirty with crimson droplets.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Park?" Jungkook pushed him back, and neither of them could believe it, neither the action nor the power in the voice.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Letting in a bunch of rapist shit-smoking hippies without a fucking cent to pay for their stay."

And then you thought about the rifle the father was carrying, about Sage and the others. A gasp from deep in your chest, the sob reminding you of your pain.

The rifle was pointed at you with anger pooling in his neck that didn't let him breathe. You screamed as you tried to stand up but it was useless, your wounded leg was your cross. Jimin moved as quickly as possible to cover your mouth, squeezing until it hurt.

"What did you do with the others?" Park's voice trembled, and his partner's eyes showed an open, bloody wound that would not close until a couple of demons ran away.

"I shot the boy in the shoulder, the two girls took the car and drove to California. I made them promise not to come back."

"You're a fucking psychopath." Your scream is muffled by the cowboy's fingers.

The rifle flew away in the hay, and the impatient sheep threw themselves to one side when they knew that it was not food they brought but danger.

"Jeon, stop!"

Jungkook was taller and heavier than his partner, so it wasn't difficult to lunge at you, grab your hair, and compress your chin until he felt every tooth. He was sweating with the smell of incense and wine, his thin lips spit in your face.

"It's because of people like you that I want to leave the church and buy a damn truck, pick up every son of a bitch on Route 66 who raises his dirty thumb on the side of the road, and bathe them in acid until they dissolve alive."

You didn't say anything, because you were pure meat in front of him, a mere animal for slaughter if you moved too close…

Two hot tears fell to Jungkook's fingers, and it was as if a flower had opened in his hand. A strange tickling in his throat left him passive, mute. He removed his hat with the respect the pained lady deserved.

"You're the Bell Ranch kid."

"Please tell me you didn't start shooting people in my house." Jimin interrupted, pacing back and forth impatiently.

"Jimin, she's the Bell Ranch kid-"

"I know, it doesn't matter now. You shot her and she's bleeding herself to death, Christ."

"I told you it was just a shot, they'll probably think it was to scare a coyote."

The cowboy crouched down and tucked his head between his legs, the alcohol rising into his veins.

"You're such an idiot, you know?" The father continued, filling the silence.

"What did you just say?"

"You really believe that these people come to enjoy rural life, to feed your chickens and fuck in the mountains."

"I needed the money," Jimin muttered stressed.

"The fuck you needed that money for?"

"To get the hell out of this place." He roared, standing again in front of Jungkook. "I'm sick and tired of Rivermouth and its moribund, corrupt town. It makes me want to throw up just thinking about having to see the fucking faces of the same people at Bee's diner again."

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows at him, seeing him as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.

"But everyone loves you, you're like a star here."

Jimin laughed, glassy eyes threatening to ooze saline waters.

"Do you know who else was a star in this town? Your dad, little church boy."

"Jimin." He warned you saw how his fists showed through his knuckles.

"And the star decided to have a summer camp for all the children, ended up in a human grill, and everyone thought that your dad fucked children."

It was so fast that you couldn't see Jimin's body fall to the ground, the dust hiding the blows that reverberated from Jimin's skull. The cowboy didn't lift his arms, instead, he let his friend vent until he saw Jimin's silver fang painted red.

Jungkook gasped like a barbarian, his arms trembled before he delivered the next punch and fell next to Jimin, overwhelming moans coming from his chest, stale tears, and babbling that only Jimin understood, but he didn't move.

Jimin closed his eyes, thinking about teenage Jungkook who was trying to get close to the burned body of his father, which Jimin never let him talk about or touch, for the funeral he locked him in his room even after protests and threats. He didn't know if he wanted to protect him, if because he was older than him, he thought about taking the role that that monument of a man had left behind.

He was as attractive as his son, charismatic, and an all-around good man. But his statue began to crack when some young people arrived at the church, a couple who convinced him that he did not need the God for whom he so praised and knelt down. But he was the deity, who with his wings would go far.

He had this idea of encouraging the little ones next to him, elevating them. He closed the doors of the old church, while singing with the children and bathed the edges of the windows in kerosene.

The screams were hellish, no one heard them. No one cried more than the little boy who saw his sister burning on the ground, no one screamed more than the girl whose dress melted into her skin, and no one trusted her father more than the youngest son of Father John I.

Jungkook's younger brother hung from his father's clothes, watching his friends burn with a sense of purpose, that this had to happen for his own good.

And like Icarus, the sun kissed his father's body without Jungkook realizing the changes until very late: the sarcastic laughter in the middle of reading, his constant absence, the misplaced and ambitious gaze.

His mother fell into the abyss. Died sitting in a rocking chair when her body seemed to disintegrate more and more every day. A rosary in hand, a tiresome prayer that licked away her sorrows.

"Come on, we have to think about what we're going to do with her," Jimin murmured, wiping away the trickle that ran down his nose. Jungkook gave him his hand and stood up. Both men hugged each other until the minor stopped sobbing.

The father looked in your direction, determined. You could feel the black socket of his eyes fire just once and not miss.

"We have to chain her before she runs away."

Jimin nodded. There was no time to lose.

A latent pain spread through Jungkook's head until a crown of pure anguish decorated his hair. Two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as the phone rang incessantly on the other line.

One of the things that bothered him about Billie, was the way time seemed to run smoothly and leisurely through her fingers. It took her forever to analyze things, to choose what she was going to eat, even if it would always be chicken pot pie; and in this case, answer the phone.

The telephone booth where he was was dirty, it smelled of urine, and the windows were clouded with dust. He was still wearing his black shirt and pants, his collar pristine white, his old man's ring on his right hand being moved anxiously.

He couldn't believe what he would do in his free time instead of being with the girl he had decided to marry. But a letter arrived at his office at the church that afternoon, one of the children playing in the park had been sent with it. The letter was a simple piece of paper wrapped and tied with an improvised wildflower as a cord.

I'll be busy tonight. The sheep must be tamed and sheared. J.

When he read the words, he almost dropped the paper on the floor and sent the boy out with a dollar in his hand so that he would promise not to tell anyone.

He spent the entire mass having trouble speaking, gave averted glances, and cleared his throat like a sick man. The drops of sweat clinging to his chest, it was hell.

"Hello?"

"Billie, it's John, sweetheart."

"Why are you not here?" His chest sank as he heard the sweet voice of his girl. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

"I must..." his voice trailed off. The last time he lied was so long ago.

It's not that religion made him feel guilty for telling a lie, sometimes a father must lie to people's faces with such solemnity that the devotee can only let themselves fall into the invisible hands of God and lie down on hope for a miracle.

"I have to take care of one Park's ewe. Poor little one it's havin' some trouble, and he doesn't want her to be alone until his show ends." Terrible, one of the worst lies he's ever made.

Silence.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Billie purred, almost in a plea. He sighed, he could see her pink varnished nail tangled in the phone cord eagerly. Trying not to wake her dad's ears with such questions.

Jungkook had her on the edge because he hadn't even kissed her. He knew he was cruel for that. It's not that he has officially offered either, but sometimes a man doesn't lie through words, but by taking her home, by looking into her eyes for a longer time when he gives her the host, by helping her learn to touch herself inside the confessional.

"It's better not to, pet. I'm sure it'll be an allnighter, the thing'll be crying for hours and I know how sensitive you are with animals."

"It's true, you know me so well, Jungkook."

He smiled. "I know, darling." He clears his throat before continuing. "But tomorrow you can come to the parish, and we will feed the pigeons in the morning. How 'bout that?"

One more lie, this time it was not the hands of God but the calloused and bloody hands of the young father. But she just giggled.

"Goodnight, Billie. Say hi to your mother for me."

"'Night, Johnnie. I love you."

A lump in his throat, and he thanked God because after saying that, she closed the call. His tongue turned to lead to say those three words back. He knew he did, he wanted to protect Billie more than anything and make her happy, but there was no need to say it, right?

Jungkook's shirt was unbuttoned, the shaking in his breathing causing an unusual tremor in the sound of the farm. It was a windy night, there wasn't much moonlight, so Jungkook lit several kerosene lamps on the banks.

The wooden tub was arranged in the center, the horses and chickens raising their heads every time Jungkook grunted, bringing more hot water. The sweat falling down his temples and over his broad chest, the steam had him suffocated in that silence, and you showed no signs of waking up at any time.

He approached the hay in the corner where the sheep surrounded your body curled up like a fetus, you slept with bloody clothes and matted hair. Your breathing is as soft as the wool around you, both hands and feet tied with rope.

You looked like a lost princess. A princess who devoured every man in her land, and now she rests peacefully to reduce her satiety. Your dry mouth and the remains of Jimin's blood fell to your neckline, making Jungkook's face boil, because he couldn't believe that his friend had fallen for such banalities. It made him want to take the same lamp in his fingers and drop it on top of your delicate body.

His boot touched your low heels, but nothing. He crouched down until he had his hand close to your shoulder, your skin tender under the shaking flames, curved and soft under the dress you were wearing.

You were disgusting, angelic, so terribly at peace in your state.

Of course, upon his arrival at Jimin's house, the first thing he did was open your suitcase and touch all your belongings. Because, in the end, a woman is her belongings: she is the compact blush that she has worn since she was 19, she is the old leather necklace with the worn-out heart pendant and the empty perfume bottle.

Women feel this need to keep things that don't work or lose their value over time. Something that may have to do with how Jungkook sees them, how it's the opposite for him. How his father and his uncles also saw the women in his life. The brighter, the better.

Women, instead, have their daughters' teeth in their jewelry like yellowish nacre and love the same man from their fifteenth until the memories fade with their bodies.

Jungkook knew you would like something to remind you of home, where you truly belong. Not California, not New York, not even Austin; but Rivermouth, with its disproportionate mountains, the storm clouds filling the sky at all hours, and the same faces transferring from parents to children to grandchildren.

A place where nothing changed and that was the good thing. Even though things might end up bad.

He was sure your body was not leaving that barn, he had come to that decision the same day he saw you.

To recompensate, he decided to find you the most beautiful dress among your belongings, a delicate bow with which he would decorate your neck and a vermilion lipstick.

His hand squeezed your shoulder until you stood up screaming, his hand went straight to your mouth.

"Don't fucking do that, please." The way you looked around made Jungkook understand that you didn't remember anything, it was sad to see the weight lift your pupils towards his and still try to find an explanation. "You need to shower, your stench is making me sick."

He grabbed your bound wrists and dragged you to the edge of the hot water, a round, yellowish sponge and sulfur soap placed on a stool.

"Don't make a noise, you'll wake up Sweet Pea," Jungkook murmured behind you, the heat of his breath on your back.

Sweet Pea was a sheep separated from the others, sleeping between a bed made of hay and old coats. Her bloated stomach writhed with each ragged breath. She suffered with her mouth open and her woolly paws shivering with every squirm of the babies in her belly, she slept painfully.

"Raise your arms." The man behind you whispered, a sharp Swiss army knife cutting through the fabric of your dress like butter. The cold of his hands removing your dress let a gasp leave your lips. "Easy, there."

His tall, sweaty body leaned into your hands, his eyes evading yours, swallowing hard. Your breasts fell light and exquisite, your exposed stomach curved until it reached the plain of your pussy and Jungkook felt like the edge of his knife would slip from his hands as he finished tearing your clothes.

"Let's see the wound." He cleared his throat, sitting on the bench where he had a clean pair of gauze. "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" You interrupted, raising your foot to the top of his knee.

"Have some respect. I'm not one of your little friends."

You rolled your eyes as the slender fingers removed the knot from the dirty yellowed gauze. You hissed, leaning your body forward. As a result, you placed your hands on top of Jungkook's jet-black hair, tightening the strands under your fingers in the last turn of the gauze. Jungkook took a deep breath, his fingers trembling gently as he examined the bruised hole.

"At least the blood stopped."

"Do you plan to heal my wound until I starve to death here?"

Jungkook was already getting tired of your words, of that shrill accent, and your lips always a little parted as if waiting for them to fill your mouth with-

"I plan to heal your wounds until I find a grave big enough to put you and all your things in." Your alert eyes made him laugh. He loved seeing the terror in them. Made you look more adorable.

He grabbed the clear liquor from among the hay and wet a piece of cotton. Your left leg was shaking from the effort, and you were weak, surely Jimin was stupid enough to not leave you something to eat before going to enjoy his fame.

"You're crying." Jungkook saw the tears falling to your breasts, you were quick to remove the ones that were flowing with your tied hands. Inhaling and sobbing like a little girl trying to be brave. You were terrified.

God and men knew why the statues of virgins were always portrayed as suffering. He wanted to run his fingers over your face, lick every salty tear, and say more chilling things to you to make you cry even more.

His hand rested on his lap and patted a couple of times.

"I know it hurts, stop being so stubborn."

You left your buttocks on his lap and placed both arms on your chest, covering your breasts. You were a mess, and you hated that you were crying, rivulets falling to the sockets of your collarbones. Jungkook focused on it, feeling thirsty as he cleaned the wound.

A hand rested on your bare waist to keep you from falling, calloused fingers unconsciously caressing the soft skin. Your back rose and fell with each whimper.

"I was kiddin', kid. For God's sake." He frowned, yet you continued. He grabbed the bottle again and grabbed your chin with his thumbs, long gulps of sheer force passing down your throat. "There ya' go. Stop the whining, now."

You coughed as you felt the alcohol melt your stomach with its heat.

"I hate you both. I wish I was dead."

"Me too, pumpkin."

The next step was to get into the bathtub. You closed your eyes as the heat engulfed your body, the steam cleaning your pits after crying your fill. You moaned softly as you snuggled into the soggy sheet.

On the other side was the father, sitting with both legs open while he slowly scrubbed the sponge with the soap. His hungry eyes were behind the whitish walls of hot steam.

"You're a virgin. Right, Father John?" Your light, sharp tongue asked, moving you closer to the edge of the tub.

His gaze went to yours, bold, fed up. He dropped the soap and poured water on your face and hair with an empty can of chickpeas. The slippery hair was easy to clench in his fist, the sponge in his hand rubbing circles on your back.

You pursed your lips as you felt the pressure you caused on him. Well, it looks like it was true.

"Don't you have a little girlfriend? It must be so lonely in this fucking town."

"I'll make you cry harder if you keep talking bullshit."

The foam was sliding down to your breasts, Jungkook tried to be as stoic as possible cleaning the area.

There was something quite submissive about him that brought out your worst thoughts. The worst part was that the alcohol made you dangerously flirtatious and you couldn't keep yourself in check. Not even when your life hung on it.

Between his long, slender fingers, over his broad back, and his soft, deadly voice.

You couldn't take it any longer as you moved closer to his body, the exact curve between his ear and his neck, and inhaled deeply. His hand under the water cleaning between your legs. You could feel his breathing become sharper.

"She gave it to you, right?" You sniffed closer. "You wear it to go see her, but now you have to bathe some shitty hippie you humiliated once in your teens."

"Shut up."

"Unlike your cowboy friend, you are a gentleman. You don't fuck 'em, then leave with your dick wet."

Jungkook chuckled. Silence.

He put the sponge on the bench and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.

"I think we're done." He smiled.

Your eyebrows furrowed as he kicked off his shoes and stepped into the tub next to you. A heavy hand rested on your face and you could only feel the water entering your lungs, the beat of your screams turning into bubbles among the grayish water.

Out. A gasp, your heart beating a mile an hour searching for air between the hardness of Jungkook's palm.

In. Your body arched, bound hands clawing at Jungkook's arm. The impenetrable darkness consumed you, the sound pressure of the water, the metallic taste in your throat.

Out.

Your purple face, swollen eyes, crimson lips.

"Breathe, breathe." His voice was soft, and his fingers went to your hair to support your weak body. You heard a metallic clinking sound, your eyes burning from the soap in the water. "Open your mouth."

His fingers separated your teeth to make way for his cock, the pulse of his veins massaging your lips. Jungkook hissed loudly, throwing his head back.

"Atta, girl. Open more, I know bitches like you can dislocate their fuckin' jaws."

Your eyelashes fluttered, looking for a way to look into his eyes and ask for mercy. But your eyes burned terribly and the saliva fell in streams from your mouth every time his cock came out and came back in with more force. You could only squeeze his wet pants and clumsily try to shake his thigh to make him realize you were choking.

"Mm."

"Don't trytta "mm" me. This is what you wanted."

For the first time, his cock came completely out of your mouth, drool falling into the water.

His arm supported your body and lifted your top out of the water, revealing how shiny and smooth your ass looked presented to him. The bottle of liquor was right next to you. You heard Jungkook take a gulp and how his forearm chained your neck so you could drink with him. For a few seconds, you resisted until you could do nothing but open your mouth or choke on alcohol.

"Shh, don't cry again." His fingers massaged your wet hair, his face pressed to yours as he slid his cock between your ass cheeks. "Such a crybaby. You're the one popping my cherry tonight, little buckle bunny. Ain't ya' happy?"

"I'm scared, please let me go." Your voice tore through your throat with torture, phlegm building up in your nose.

"No, can't." His cock found your entrance, the sting of the soap lubricating you, and the growl that came from Jungkook's chest made your body tense. "You need me, remember? If it was because of Park, you would have been dead a long time ago."

"I'm scared, please-"

"Shhh."

The lamps were going out little by little, leaving the shadows of Jungkook's body to engulf yours.

When your pussy began to make way and pulse around his cock, he felt sorry for not having done it sooner, for not having taken the first five dollars he stole from his father when he was fifteen and find a whore to fuck, for not having let Mandy, the daughter of his math teacher, suck him last year of school; of not having taken all the divine women in his church and instead of giving them the host, putting his cock in their mouth.

He thought about each and every one of them. He thought about Billie and the confessional, and fuck! How delicious it felt to have all your blood go to one place, leaving you dizzy and stupid like a farm animal in heat.

"Why don't we-" he moaned with tight lips, wetting his face to concentrate. "Why don't we pray, it'll make you feel better, make you less tight."

The lamps went out, leaving only one in the corner outlining Jungkook's profile. From his long oval nose, and swollen lips, from the dying steam.

So what if you said yes? If you intertwined your fingers while that monster attacked you. So what if you closed your eyes and tilted your head to Jungkook's lips to hear his spasmodic voice tell you to repeat after him.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee," he whispered, and you repeated, drowning in tears.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." You continued.

"Keep going."

The water began to splash out of the tub with each crash against your ass, his arm hugged your waist and your chest. Soft, wet kisses from your ear to your back.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…” You squealed as Jungkook trembled, his moans creating an ethereal song in the barn.

Between his babbling, he mentioned God, you, and all the curses he could think of. It was the birth of a Mephistopheles among the hay and the horses.

"Now and at the hour of our death. Amen." You sighed as you felt your body fall into the water on top of Jungkook's. Your head on his heaving chest, the pulsing pain inside you withering.

Jungkook's heart sounded like the pastures where your memories lie. The warmth of his hand holding you closer to him.

You were angry with yourself because your chest began to hurt and oh, how stupid you were, how stupid your mother had been for having raised you among pretty things and so many compliments.

"I brought you strawberry jam and milk for the night. Tomorrow I'll bring better things." He muttered, hot and his voice raspy.

And oh, how dumb you were for wanting him to wear the same perfume again when he came back.

Yandere Coworker Harem x New Hire Reader: A Meeting with the CEO

Follow up to this post

Finally fed up with it all, you decide to leave... but you learn it may not be that easy.

Content Warnings: General creepiness, yanderes, financial manipulation, manipulation, power difference, gaslighting

AN: Holy shit the first part blew up, more so than any post I've ever made on tumblr... ever. Thank y'all, and I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations? Had to ignore a few asks since they were essentially the plot to this part, haha.

As nice as Jake is... it starts to wear on you. The seclusion from your other coworkers, Warren and Jax's constant attention, it all becomes too much. This was the easiest money you've ever made, but it almost felt... condescending in a way. Seriously, you feel like you haven't actually worked in months, just given simple tasks to complete so that Jax could praise you. Otherwise, you felt like you were just eye candy set in a pretty office. No more, you figure. You make up your mind to go back to HR, it's been a long time coming. They either fix it, or you're gone.

With your mind made up, you return to Leon. He'd been so kind before, surely he'd help, right? As you explain your problems to him, he nods and gently smiles. In your distress, you don't notice his hand moving to cover yours, massaging yours comfortingly. You welcome the comforting sensation, overwhelmed to the point of not really considering the implications. You look into his dark eyes as you finish, silently pleading with him for help.

"That really is something. I'm sorry to hear your experience with the company has been so distressing. Tell me, do you have any proof?"

His demeanor seems to shift instantly back to the colder man you remember from your first sight of him. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your palm shift into a harsher grip.

"Proof? I-I mean, the cameras have probably caught something?"

You'd say there were eyewitnesses, but all of your other coworkers had been avoiding you. You barely even knew their names...

"Unfortunately, our cameras have been malfunctioning lately, I doubt they'd catch anything. Without any actual witnesses, I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."

"How can you say that without even looking? This place is insane- you know what? I'm just quitting. I can't take this anymore."

You try to remove your hand but he keeps it there. His gaze is suddenly ice cold. He lets your hand go after a few moments of tension, fingers lingering before you yank your hand to your chest.

"Ah, you could quit... but I'd really recommend against it. You'd of course have to pay the dues you signed in your contract, as well as any additional fees. I'm not in charge of finances, but my estimate would be somewhere around... 200 thousand or so?"

You gasp, blood running cold. 200 thousand?! You don't remember signing that, but you also don't recall really reading over the contract in your excitement. You try to think of a way out, surely there had to be some sort of loophole-

"Of course, there's always the option of asking the CEO to change your contract, but..."

You'd tuned anything after that out, insisting to meet with the CEO as soon as possible. Which, to your surprise, was almost immediately. Almost like he'd been... waiting for you? Leon himself lead you to the CEO's room, at the very top of the skyscraper your office resided in. As you're let in, you're met with the biggest office you'd ever seen. It composed of the entire top floor of the skyscraper, massive windows encircling the entire ornate office.

You really try to ignore the feeling that you're walking into a trap.

The CEO was patiently waiting for you. Like a king on a throne, he sat in the middle of the room in front of a surprisingly simple desk. You'd heard of the CEO, Kennedy Grey, but you'd never met him in person before. He had an air of sophistication around him, an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair and a well trimmed beard. His suit was pristine and looked expensive, probably costing more than your entire yearly salary. He smiled, urging the two of you to sit. His eyes glanced over to Leon's, a slight smirk on his face as if the two were in on a joke you weren't.

"So, what brings you two here? I've heard very good things about you from Jax. Things are going well, I presume?"

You fidget, despite his welcoming tone, he felt oddly... menacing. Like you weren't supposed to disagree with him, even if he asked you a question. You begin to explain your issues, but are quickly stopped with a firm look of disapproval when you bring up the idea of leaving the company.

"Now now, we can't have that, can we? With your contract, that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"

Before you can even respond, he simply continues to talk over you.

"No, no it wouldn't. And you've just been such a good worker, we'd just hate to lose you."

"Well, I was actually hoping we could talk about the contract, I just don't think it's fair-" you can barely get your thoughts out as he cuts you off again.

"Unfair? But my dear, you signed it. I'd just hate to get my lawyers involved... they're top of the line, y'know? Besides, you don't actually want to leave, you're just... stressed. What do you need, a paid week off? A bonus for your hard work?"

"No-"

"Well, now that that's done, let's get back to work, shall we? You'll have a bonus on your next pay-"

You've had enough of his condescension and interruptions, it's time for you to interrupt him.

"You know what, I'll take the lawsuit. You people are insane. You can have the money if you want, but I'm out of here."

As you get up, you find you can't. Leon has moved behind you, surprisingly strong arms holding your chair in, preventing you from moving. You look up at him in angered confusion, but he's sharing a look with Kennedy. You once again feel like you're missing an important part of an inside joke again. You try to struggle, but you're stopped as Kennedy interrupts.

"Apartment 101, Evergreen Apartments, right?"

"W-wha-"

"You know, I've been venturing into the rental market recently. Very profitable at the moment. I actually just bought a few buildings in your area, including your little apartment. Such a shame, you know you could do better, right? All you have to do is ask..."

He smiles at you as if this was a normal conversation to him, like he was doing you a favor.

"I guess that makes me your landlord now, if you think about it!" his smile turns colder, eyes crinkling like he's laughing at you, "That being said, I just don't see how you're going to pay for the rent increase without this job. I hate to do it, but it's a necessity, y'know? Cost of living and such."

He waves his hand like it's no big deal, like he isn't playing with your livelihood and threatening you.

"You could move out, of course, but well, word gets around, and I just don't know how the other investors in the area would react to your... history."

You feel dread well up in the pit of your stomach and tears in your eyes. He... has you. What could you even do? Moving out of the city would mean starting over, and that's if you could even find a place and a job to pay for said place, and paying for the lawsuit-

In your panic, you can only whimper, "I just... why? Why me? i don't understand-"

"That's the beauty of it all, you don't have to. All you have to worry about is coming in and doing your job. We'll handle all the rest."

You jump, having almost forgotten Leon was behind you in your panic. You go to open your mouth-

"Wonderful insight, Leon. Now that we're all on the same foot, let's get back to work, shall we?"

You can only numbly nod your head, too overwhelmed to continue fighting.

You're finally allowed to sit up and begin walking towards the door, trying to speed walk out of the huge room that somehow managed to feel claustrophobic. You just wanted out at this point, you needed somewhere to think.

As you step into the elevator, Leon staying behind in the office-thank god-you're interrupted one final time.

"Oh, and I meant what I said. If you ever need any assistance, anything at all, just come to me. All you have to do is ask."

Yandere Bouncer

You feel perfectly safe getting drunk and letting loose, especially with your favourite bouncer to keep an eye on you. Well, up until the night you realise that every party has a price. Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley inspired, implied somno, 3.1k words

Y'know who you shouldn't trust as much as you do? Bouncers. Sure, most of them are great. Just trying to do their jobs, keeping people safe when the booze starts hitting too hard.

But not in your case. No, when it comes to you - the bubbly party girl who smiles at just about everyone - the yandere bouncer at your favourite club doesn't have such noble intentions.

He's a big guy. All the security guys are, but he's big even by those standards. Standard issue black t-shirt straining at the seams when he crosses his arms. Mean mug, always scowling at any drunk stupid enough to breathe the same air as him.

Girls and guys alike think he's hot, but no amount of liquid courage can stand up to his glare. Anyone who tries to flirt with him usually thinks better of it when they're less than two sentences in. He's not here to hook up in the bathroom or be a rebound situationship. He's here to work.

The first time he runs into you, he barely notices anything beyond your skirt. Short as hell, even by clubbing standards.

What, do you want every bastard in there to get an eyeful of your thong, sweetheart?

He doesn't say it out loud. Just scoffs and hands you back your ID. Doesn't bother to reply when you wish him a good night.

The second time he runs into you, you're a little tipsy already. Smiling up at him like you don't see the pierced eyebrow or the scowl. He's tempted to not let you in - club has a strict no pre-drinking policy - but then you bat your lashes at him and joke that pre-gaming is the only way anyone can have any fun at all in this economy.

He snorts and let's you pass. He doesn't fully recognise you - too many faces, too little light - but some subconscious part of him takes note of your perfume. Something bright and fruity that makes him think of summer punch and getting drunk on the beach.

You try and greet him before you leave, half hanging off your more sober friend. You yell something over your shoulder about having a good time and smiling more. He isn't sure what you're on about, but it's kind of cute the way you mumble a little when you're drunk.

He doesn't expect to see you again, nor does he expect to recognise you if he does. There's half a dozen clubs in this rotten city, and half a million pretty girls with too short skirts.

But he does.

Notices you standing in line because the people around you are cracking up, total strangers laughing at some lame joke you made. He let's his partner do most of the ID checks that night. Not really realising it, but wanting a chance to watch you.

Your jokes aren't that funny. You touch people too much. You've got a laugh that's a bit too loud. But people like you.

Total strangers chatting it up and smiling like they've met a celebrity.

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles. A few people in the front of the line flinch away from him. He doesn't bother reassuring them.

What is it about you? What makes you so magnetic?

When you're finally at the front of the line, you give his partner a megawatt grin and call her by her name. Ask how her shoulders holding up after that brawl last week.

You smile at him too, your fingers brushing his wrist when you take your ID back.

"Hey, Mr tall, dark and scary. How's the biz treating you?"

"The same as it was last week. Same as it's going to be next week," he grinds out.

You pat his arm - are you seriously touching him? You barley know him - and flash him that same beaming smile.

"Don't be so pessimistic, handsome. I see lots of booze and parties in your future."

He scoffs. "Yeah. I reckon just about anyone could figure that."

You aren't offended. You just wink at him and disappear, your new friends in tow.

When he finally goes on break, he asks his partner about you.

"Oh, she's sweet, isn't she? Don't think she's been coming here long though."

"Three weeks," he mutters. "She knows your name?"

His partner laughs and tosses her cigarette onto the pavement. "Guess so. Nice of her to ask, don't you think?"

He isn't sure what to think, honestly.

He doesn't see you for two weeks after that. And when you're finally back, he can't help asking you about it.

"Oh, I had work," you say with a shrug. "I'm very flattered that you noticed."

"Hard not to. There wasn't any commotion, so I figured you weren't around."

You giggle and slap his arm, as cheesy as a cheerleader in a slasher movie. Still, it's kind of nice. Girls don't really act that way around him. It's either shy or terrified. Bubbly and a little over the top is a nice change.

He watches you walk away, your skirt just as short as the first time he noticed you.

Damn, doll. You make it hard for a man to focus. Got my mind in the bloody gutter.

It's late when you finally stumble out of the club, your heels in one hand and your phone in the other. You're trying to order an Uber but your cracked and unresponsive screen doesn't mix well with your booze addled senses. He gives it five minutes before he intervenes.

He plucks the phone out of your hand and sighs when you sag against him, half murmured thank yous slurring against his sleeve.

Out past your bedtime, eh love?

"Where do you stay?"

You tell him, your eyes half closed and your forehead resting against his arm.

Telling a stranger your address? C'mon doll, you should know better than that.

He waits with you until your ride arrives, and then he walks you to the car. He takes note of the number plate, only half aware that he's doing it.

He leans on the roof, barring his teeth at the driver in something only half related to a smile.

"Drop her off safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure," the man agrees, nodding like a bobble head. "Wouldn't think of messing with her."

I'll break your wrists if you even look at her wrong.

"Right. Have a good one."

He raps his knuckles on the roof and watches until the tail lights fade.

There's an itch at the back of his brain that he just can't get rid of. Some annoying, rebellious part of him that keeps thinking about how warm you felt when you leaned up against him. How you're just short enough that he can rest his chin on your head.

The itch doesn't go away.

He keeps thinking about you until the weekend rolls around. What the hell do you do for work? It's hard to picture you in corporate - not when he's seen how low your necklines go. Pitching up to meetings and HR presentations when just a few nights ago you were drinking shots off a stranger's back? Not fucking likely.

...Although you would look pretty great in one of those tight little pencil skirts. Yeah, you pert ass would probably have your coworkers breaking their necks.

He doesn't see you in line until it's almost midnight. You look a little out of it. Constantly checking your phone, a half frown puckering your perfectly gelled brows.

He wants to pull you out of line. He really does. Not to give you any fancy VIP treatment - he wouldn't mind it though, he'd like to spoil you a little - but to just talk.

He shakes his head like a bull until the urge isn't quite so loud. Unprofessional, that. Showing favouritism. Not fair to the other people waiting in line. Still...

When he does finally get to talk to you, you aren't yourself. You cover it up with a smile, but even he can tell it's a poor veneer.

"I'm meeting up with my ex," you tell him when he finally gets around to asking. (It takes awhile. Has your ID always been this interesting? Shiny patterns. Nice typeface they're using now. And your birthday is exactly six months after his. Cute).

He doesn't know what to say to that. Isn't sure how he feels about it, either. Why the hell are you meeting some douche who you were one hundred percent right to dump? (He assumes it was you who did the dumping. No man in his right mind would let you go, not even if you're the type to swing a knife around on bad days).

"Good luck," he manages at last. "Hope he isn't an ass."

You squeeze his arm when you leave and he feels the ghost of your fingers for the rest of the night.

Your ex is an ass. All that and more. He can tell from the too heavy cologne, the pretentious boat shoes, the obnoxious laugh.

You're on his arm, smiling but not entirely comfortable. What are you thinking? Entertaining this overly polished turd of a man?

He stops you before you leave. Leans down and brushes his lips against your hair.

"You sure you're okay to go home with this guy?"

You give him a quick nod and a grateful smile.

He straightens, angry but not entirely sure why. He watches you walk away, his right hand clenching and unclenching around his radio until the veins stand out on his forearm.

You could do better than that, doll. You could be doing me.

He ends up finding your ex's name. Entirely on accident, swear. Finger slipped and before he knew it he was watching the CCTV footage of the front door, pausing when the guy's ID got flashed to the camera.

And now that he has that info, it's only logical that he checks him out on social media. You're a valued customer. He needs to be sure that the people you're associating with are safe.

Oh, and this guy isn't safe at all. Party animal, pussy hound. Sure, there's a pic or two of you together, but most of his profile is dedicated to shots of raves and cocktails and pretty girls.

You deserve better, don't you know that? Someone who can keep you safe when you're drunk, who can keep an eye on you when the clubs you like are filled with dark corners and shady drinks.

He's going to ask you out. It's only half decided - most of his brain pulling him one way and most of his cock pulling him the other. His heart split somewhere in the middle.

He's gonna be good for you, he knows it. Get rid of that overblown and overrated ex. Teach you which drinks are hopelessly overpriced and which ones are worth the cash. Not going to change you, no. That's what insecure men try and do when their girl likes to let loose on the weekends. No, he likes you just as you are. You need a bit of muscle to lean on, that's all.

But when the weekend rolls around, all his plans go swirling down the gutter. You're on your ex's arm again. Smiling too quick, laughing too sharp. But with him all the same.

C'mon doll, thought you were smarter than that.

You don't get a chance to chat. Your ex drags you straight into the club, barely waiting to get his ID back.

He wants to trade shifts. Abandon door duty and follow you around inside.

He doesn't. He snaps at the patrons and he bites his tongue bleeding and he clenches his fist until his nails dig into his skin, and he manages to not follow you.

The best decision to make, after all.

Your ex waits until the night is almost over to finally make his move. Or at least that's how it looks.

When he walks out of the club with his arm around your waist, it's clear that you're totally out of it. Barely standing on your own two feet, hair hanging forward and hiding your face.

He stops you. Of course he does. He's seen you tipsy and he's seen you blackout, but he's never seen you this bad.

Your ex tries to brush it off.

"She didn't have any head for the shots, that's all."

He doesn't buy it. Tilts your chin up and shines his torch in your eyes.

There it is. The fucking bastard.

Your pupils are blown out wide, not contracting at all even with his torch burning right into your retinas.

He knows you. Better than he'd like to admit. And he knows you don't party this hard.

He straightens and looks down at your ex with thinly veiled disgust.

"She's not going home with you."

The man laughs. "She's my girlfriend. 'Course she is."

He smiles. Or shows his teeth at least.

"She's. Not. Going. Anywhere."

The man freezes for a second, and then his smile turns nasty. "Who the fuck are you to decide who goes home with who?"

He wants to punch your ex in the throat.

He doesn't. Just looks at him, fingers curling into a fist almost as big as your head. Your ex is drunk, he's not as sharp as he would be sober. But his instincts aren't so dull that they don't recognise what's in front of him.

He's a bouncer, true. But more than that, he's a fighter.

Your ex can see it in the way he stands, can see it in the eyes that move too quick to follow.

And he's not just a fighter. He's a man with a whole lot to fight for.

Your ex licks his lips, too stupid to shut up.

"I'll call the cops on you, asshole."

The bouncer laughs. The first time anyone around here has ever heard it.

It's not a pleasant sound.

"Go ahead," he snarls softly, "Call them. And when they show up, why don't you also tell 'em the reason why your girlfriend is all shot up with special K, hmm?"

"She isn't -

"Don't even try it."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you away from your ex. The bastard at least has the sense to not fight him.

Your boyfriend starts going on about calling the club owner, getting him fired. But he doesn't bother listening - it all fades to nothing when he holds you.

There, the way it's 'sposed to be.

You're warm, burning up with a fever. (How hot does your cunt feel if your hands are already scorching?) He needs to get you checked out. Needs to make sure whatever shit your ex snuck you isn't mixing with the alc.

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. (Your lipstick would look so fucking good staining his cock).

"Mr tall, dark and scary. Gonna get me home again?"

He nudges you in the direction of the parking lot and you stumble, hands knotting in his shirt.

"Even better, doll. Gonna take you home myself."

You close your eyes the second he straps you into his passenger seat. It takes a minute or two to shake you awake.

He isn't an EMT, but working clubs means knowing all the signs of an overdose. You're on the verge of passing out, but you're not in any real danger. Breathing regular, heartbeat fast but not concerningly so. Lucky. Things could have gone a whole lot worse. As it stands, all you're going to suffer tomorrow is a bit of nausea and one killer headache.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles when you lean your face into his palm.

"You're totally out of it, aren't you? Won't remember a thing come morning."

You hum quietly, lips brushing his pulse.

"The hell am I 'sposed to do with you? You don't even have your keys on you."

He sighs and closes the passenger door. No help for it - he's going to have to take you to his place. (You, in his bed, where you belong).

You don't complain when the engine guns to life. A little beyond the realm of registering those sorts of things.

And you don't complain when he carries you up to his apartment, your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't mean to undress you. He's a lot of things, but not a degenerate. It's just when he finally lays you down on his sheets, it's clear that the straps on your dress are cutting into your. Gonna leave marks that burn in the morning.

Getting you out of your dress is the responsible thing to do. And if it has his cock twitching, well, that's just coincidental.

You're in matching lace underwear.

He fists the blanket until he stops thinking of beating your asshole ex into a dirt.

She was gonna give it to you anyway, you bastard. You didn't have to drug her.

He breathes out through his nose. Once. Twice. Calm down, focus on the here and now. Deal with that bastard later.

There. Much better. And look at you, burrowing down into his pillows. Do you like the smell of him, is that what this is?

He undoes your bra and tosses it over his shoulder to join your dress and heels.

Didn't he once hear that it's unhealthy to sleep with a bra on? Increases the risk of cancer or something. Yeah, that's why he took it off. For the sake of your health.

He watches you for a while. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the flickering behind your eyelids as you start to dream.

He should take a picture or two. It would be a shame not to. And what you don't know can't hurt you, right? All pretty in his bed. God knows the girls he brings home never get the chance to sleep. This is a rare thing, worth documenting.

The flash doesn't bother you. Maybe a few more. Just to make sure they're good quality. Don't want to look back tomorrow and realise the pics are all blurry.

Just a few more. Maybe a video.

You look good, but you'd look even better without your panties in the way. They ruin the view.

He hooks his thumb under the band and slips them off, his fingers almost brushing your cunt.

There. So much better.

He swallows and puts his phone down, some part of him screaming at him for being a bastard. Another part screaming at him for not being a big enough bastard to take what he wants.

"You're too sweet to end up in a stranger's bed, doll. Getting fucked when you're too out of it to remember."

The streetlight outside his window washes you in alternating stripes of dark and light. He leans down and runs a hand up your thigh. Soft skin, like a peach right before you sink your teeth in.

"So it's a good thing we're not strangers."

Jungkook Fanfic Recommendations(7)₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

☆ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 | Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook X Pastel!Reader | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Mugs & Kisses | Jungkook x Reader | Barista Au | Oneshot | @minisugakoobies

☆ simply meant to be | pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader | OneShot | @caelesjjk

☆ beside you | idol!jungkook x gf!reader | Oneshot | @nochukoo97

☆ Fragment of the Past | patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader | thriller & yandere au | Series | @ctrlsht

☆ burnout | basketball player!jungkook x student journalist!fem!reader | Yandere | @aikastales

☆ 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | Vampire! Jeon Jungkook X Human! (F) Reader | OneShot | @angllicjk

☆ angel in the marble | michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader | high renaissance au | OneShot | @venusjeon

☆ love à trois | jungkook x fem!reader x jimin | Side: Jimin X Reader | @letjungcoook7

☆ you're losing me | jungkook x reader | Married Couple | @sparklingchim

☆ part time lover | investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader | Oneshot | @sketchguk

☆ STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME | Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @hoseokieswrld

☆ cherry bomb | jungkook x fem reader | Oneshot | @retrievablememories

☆ your cursed thoughts | jungkook x reader | Halloween AU | Series | @smaubts

☆ UNWANTED | King/brother Jungkook × slave/older sister YN | @kangmoon27

☆ the seventh life | vampire!Jungkook x female!reader | @folkookie97

☆ champagne confetti | heartthrob!jk x fashion employee f!reader | @pennyellee

☆ Horizon | Angel!Jungkook x Reader | Two shot | @sokooks

☆ Whose idea was it, though? | Jungkook X Reader | @astayinwonderland

☆ First Prize | Boxer!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @tsukisrants

☆ TERRITORIAL | yandere!Jungkook x Yandere Yn | Oneshot | @kangmoon27

☆ Movie Night | Jungkook x fem!reader | Yandere!JK X Reader | OneShot | @taevbears

☆ tethered. | emo!jk x reader | Series | @13lov

☆ gotcha | jungkook x reader | ChildhoodFriend Au | Oneshot | @whatifyoulivelikethat

☆ mate | alpha!jungkook x omega!reader | Series | @7deadlysinsfics

☆ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Aged up!Jungkook X Younger!Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Slithered | Mafia Jungkook x Fem!Reader | Series | @bts-0t-7

☆ Self-Care Sunday | NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader | One-Shot | @shina913

☆ animal farm. | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @joonberriess

☆ November Sun | Jungkook x reader | OneShot | @oddinary4bts

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

Jungkook Recommendation Masterlist

HOLAGE |

Synopsis: a tale of a very yendere jungkook

Warnings: mentions of blood, tying up, mentions of cuts, a blade, wound. Reader is kinda babyfied. Possessive jk. [Let me know if I Let something out]

Jk x fem reader.

#Maybe there's a dead dove that you don't wanna eat.

18+. Minors dni

"Now you see if didn't try to run away i wouldn't have to do this"

The man behind you scrubbing your body with a cloth says. His tone very light diminishing all dominance you thought you had.

The warm water falls on your skin lightly but with the way your heart is racing each drop feels like a slap on the skin. You'd think warm water would make you feel relaxed but it doesn't.

And the fact that jungkook has you sandwiched between his naked wet body and the shower wall doesn't help. He doesn't do anything suggestive he only repeatedly rubs the foam drenched cloth around your body, making sure to get off the dried blood on you. Not your own blood but of the man who tried to help you by giving you a lift.

Jungkook never understood why people wanted to take you from him. Well he kinda knew why. You were perfect, the immaculate depiction of the woman in his heart and fantasies. He's dreamt and thought of you everyday, there's no time when you aren't on his mind. And he believed people knew that that's why they'd try to take you from him, but he'll never let that happen. Never in his fully woken self, even in his sleep he can find you.

You can hear his breaths become heavier as he runs the cloth against your breasts then your nipples and runs it down your stomach. He's movements are slow and gentle, if it weren't for your racing heart and the situation you'd be aroused. Jungkook never really pushed the idea of sleeping with you though you could see him here and there struggling with his own body for control. You knew he thought about you that way, you could tell. Especially when you'd see his bulge peaking from his sweat pants as he tucked you into bed after your shower.

Today was no different you could see his bulge through his dark pants as the water rinses your body. He always kept his trousers on when he helped you shower even though you're sure it was uncomfortable for him, you guess it's for self control. You're glad though.

"Why do you always run away like I'm a bad person." He says your bodies facing each other as he dries your hair with a towel. You stand still like a mannequin, not knowing what to do in this situation.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" His eyes are bright and large as he looks down at you and you up at him. You look away trying to avoid his delicate and innocent gaze. It's a facade and you know it, this man was far from delicate and innocent. Even though sometimes he can act to be, you knew better than to fall for it.

He uses his thump and index finger to trap your chin and pull your attention to him.

"Do you think I'm a bad person baby" he asks expecting an answer and his eyes demand one too. You know he doesn't like being ignored. You're already on his bad side for trying to run away, so it'd be best if you just played along.

You shake your head giving him your answer but by the look on his face he's not satisfied by your answer.

"N-no I don't think you're a bad person" you say timidly. He liked it when you were timid.

"I'm glad that you think that" he says brushing your hair.

"But why do you always act like im a bad person." he brushes

"Why do you run away huh?" He brushes a little harder and you can feel and hear him get angry.

"When all I do is take care of you and give you all you want" he brushes harder again and you want to do something cause he might end up ripping your hair from your scalp, wouldn't be the first time removing your hair. One time when you tried to ran away he cut your hair to teach you a lesson. It's been a year since then and your hair has grown from the short length.

His eyes focus on the brush as he continues to list the things he's done for you and all you think about is a way to cool his brewing anger.

Validation.

"I know and appreciate what you do for me" you place your hand on his chest as you spill lies from your mouth.

"Your actually the reason why I'm still alive" though jungkook can tell when you're playing with him he decides not to acknowledge it.

"Then why do you ran away"

"I'm just silly jungkook. You know that. Sometimes I do things without thinking" you look in his eyes and he must be buying it.

"I just wanna go out sometimes. You know" You say playing with the locks of his hair.

"You know I wanna take you outside." He runs his hand in your hair.

"But you're such a bad girl that I can't do that" he says as you feel his demeanour shift, not longer gentle and delicate.

"And you know what happens next"

"I'm sorry babe" you try to use a pet name to soothe him but it doesn't work. You know what he means and tears fill your eyes as you think of it.

"I'm really sorry" you whine tears falling from your eyes as you try to plead your case.

"Its too late for sorrys now" his eyes glare at you and you can feel the darkness and cold pool from them and his aura.

Your heart begins to pound against your chest, you're afraid your chest might rip open. Jungkook begins to pull you to your bedroom and you try to stop him from taking you there, little 'I'm sorrys' leave your mouth that's now collecting your tears. But he doesn't listen he continues to drag you to your room.

"No dinner for you today" he says coldly, eyes on the ground he's dragging you on. You'd even forgotten how hungry you were because of the fear you were feeling.

Even though it was your room, it wasn't good when jungkook took you there. He'd always let you sleep in his room on his white and comfy bed. He'd always let you sleep there. The only time he took you to your own room to sleep was to punish you. The room itself isn't bad but it's not as good as jungkook's.

The thoughts of what he's gonna do to you and has done to you in this room make your weeping louder. Jungkook never liked seeing you cry, well sometimes, but he had to do what needs to be done to teach you the lesson you never seem to learn.

"Jungkook I'm sorry... I'll listen this time" you yell, mucous now filling your throat. You gag feeling like you wanna puke.

"I-i-i pr-promise I'll listen this time please, I'm sorry I'll never do it again" you plead but it's like he can't hear. He actually can and it hurts him but those feelings are pushed aside. He needs you to be a good girl and if this is the only way so be it.

He steps back and stretches after tying your hands behind your back. He didn't gag you cause he wants to hear your screams and pleads. Your legs are untied and he knew you knew better than to kick him or struggle.

"Why do you have to be so bad" he says hovering over your shaking body. You were sweating from fear, your entire body moist. He stares at the little 'hello kitty' panties you're wearing. He knew you'd look great in them when he bought them.

He chuckles.

Turning around to go to the little drawer you'd never liked to see him approach. You hear the drawer open and the clanking of metals together and your wailing grows louder.

"Jungkook please"

"The audacity you have to even call me by my name" you hear him scoff as the drawer is closed and he approaches you.

You almost lose your breath when you see the blade in his hands. It's become so familiar to you, you know every pattern and design on it by heart and mind. He'd always do this when you misbehaved but especially when you tried to ran away.

You shake intensely when he squats in front of you and spreads your thighs revealing the other 3 wounds you got when you tried to ran away.

"D-da-" You want to say it but its so hard. Maybe if he hears you call him that he'll take it easy on you.

"Oh look at these" he says tracing his fingertips over the 3 soon to be 4 scars on your thighs, when he does this the pain you felt from them resurfaces. You can hear him laugh at the memory.

"Daddy please I'm sorry" you finally say it bit it doesn't change his mind. He simply sighs at the name, he loved when you called him that but you only did when you were in this kind of situation trying to escape his wrath.

"I'll never ran away again" you've said that many times, "I mean it this time" and that too.

"Daddy plea-"

"Why don't you ever just want to be a good girl...my good girl" he seems low his voice not so aggressive, but it still makes you scared.

"I'll be a good girl, I promise" you continue to plead trying to lift yourself up and find his eyes.

"Shut up" he yells shutting you up. But you can't shut your sobs up.

"I don't like doing this you know." He spreads your legs wider and he tries his best to not stare at your core.

"All I want is for you to be a good girl..." he says gliding the blade against your skin and you continue to cry.

"...my good girl..." he pokes the blade againt your skin as your skin tears.

"...a good girl...for me" he finishes saying as the blades begins to drag against your skin, lining the mark with the others. Its like he's counting tallies. Immediately a line of blood follows. You scream and he smiles as he watches the liquid follow the blade.

"You just don't like to listen huh?" He says finally stopping his movements.

"I just want you to know I'll never stop until you learn... I'm never giving up on you Y/N"

Role model (Yandere! Jungkook)

This is from a prompt from a loooong time ago, so I can't find the exact quote but it is!

Police officer! Y/n

Warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, some violence, self harm,

2.5 k

“That kid’s here again.” Officer Kim snickers, nudging your elbow. You let your eyes trail over to where he’s pointing, seeing Jeon Jungkook being hauled into the station by two officers.

He looks angry, his jaw still clenched from holding his tongue, eyes ablaze with fury. He tugs against the grip they have on him, shoving, snarling, anything to get them away.

“I’ll handle this.” You state, watching Jeon Jungkook’s gaze snap to your form. He’s not struggling anymore, but he still looks furious.

“Yes, lieutenant!” One speaks. “He was involved in a fight, hospitalising the victim. A friend of the victim called it in but they were not present when we arrived at the scene.”

“Got it. Thank you.” You shift your gaze to address the boy. “Follow me.”

Jeon Jungkook follows closely behind you, without being restrained. You suppose he couldn’t do much even if he wanted to, being handcuffed was certainly a restriction. You lead him to the interrogation room, securing the cuffs before you sit down opposite him.

“Y/n, I swear-”

You sigh, “You’re visiting here an awful lot these days. Sooner or later you’ll find you don't get out again.”

The boy makes a weird expression at that. You choose to ignore him, rather than focus on his strange mannerisms. Who could look so comfortable cuffed as a criminal in a police station?

You open the notepad. “Can you tell me what happened, Jeon?”

He frowns, looking rather displeased. Perhaps it’s not a great memory. “...No.”

“Look, if we don’t get your side of this, then we can only believe what the others say. Wouldn’t it be better to explain your side first?” You offer a hopeful look, doing your best to explain it in a way that might compel him to answer.

He scoffs, “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.” You raise an eyebrow, promoting him. Jeon Jungkook sighs deeply, searching your face for something. He decides to speak. “He provoked me. He was saying...things that I didn’t like. So I punched him, but he kept talking, that piece of shit, so I kept hitting him. I shouldn’t have stopped when the police came, damnit, I should have made sure he’d never speak again— What is it?”

You blink, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I knew it.” He rolls his eyes. “You think I’m a monster.”

You frown, aware that you’re losing progress quickly. “That’s not it. I don’t even know the full story, how could I assume yet? Can I ask what he was saying? Jeon?”

“Jungkook.” He speaks again. “Call me Jungkook and I’ll answer whatever you want.”

Poor kid, he must not be called by his name often. “O-okay, Jungkook, can you recall what this man was saying that made you angry?”

Jeon Jungkook finally answers after a long pause, “He was saying disgusting things about someone I like. I asked him to stop, and he began to mock me. And continued to talk shit. That’s why I punched him. You understand, right?”

“Violence is never the answer, Jungkook.”

His fists are clenched. “How else was I supposed to make him stop? If I just left the bastard, he’d do it again. He could even-”

“Could even what? Jungkook?” You were so close. You were sure of it. Whatever he was about to say was the real reason Jeon Jungkook attacked this man.

He avoids your gaze. “...I didn’t want him to...interact with the person he was talking about. I knew I had to at least hospitalise him, otherwise-”

He was definitely hiding something. A huge part of the puzzle was missing, for sure. It all lay in the person Jungkook liked, so all you had to do was work out who that was. If you could check his phone, then maybe…

“Where are you going?!” Jungkook sounds alarmed. Should he not be relieved he’s no longer being interrogated? The boy must be scared.“You can’t meet with him. Y/n. I’ll tell you more...I know about other people too! I can tell you anything you need to know!”

He would rather sell out others than have you meet with the victim? Strange. You expressed this to officer Kim Seokjin too, and he agreed that it was odd.

The two of you stood on the other side of the glass, watching Jungkook carefully. He could give something away now that it felt as though he was alone, after all. But he didn’t. He just stared forwards, fists clenched.

“Perhaps he doesn’t want you to think badly of him.” Seokjin offers. “The kid behaves well around you, we all saw how he was when he first got here...and compared to how he is with you…"

"What are you suggesting? He sees me as a role model or something?" You narrow your eyes. You're not sure you believe exactly that either. From the way he acts, he cares about your opinion more than just someone he looks up to. It's almost like…

"A mother figure, maybe?" Seokjin suggests, shrugging. "I don't know, maybe things aren't good back home for him, and...you've been kind to him. I'd say it's a good idea to keep treating him nicely, maybe he'll tell us more this way."

You nod, sighing.

The officer from earlier walks back in, "Lieutenant L/n! The hospital called, there's been a complication, the victim's had to go in for surgery."

"Shit. Is he going to be alright? We need to talk to him as soon as possible." Everything just keeps getting worse and worse. You fear for Jungkook, too. If things go wrong, he could be charged with something much worse than he was anticipating. It could be disastrous.

"They said they'll call as soon as he's stable, ma'am. We're tracking down the witness, see if he has anything to offer, but…"

"Right. I'll keep working on the kid, then. Officer Kim, perhaps if you join me this time, we can get something different from him?"

"You want us to play good cop bad cop, Y/n? He already likes you, so I think it's clear which roles we're playing." He smiles, nodding to the officer on his way into the interrogation room.

"Who the fuck are you?!" You hear Jungkook shouting. Fuck. It doesn't take long before you're rushing into the room, noting Jungkook's aggravated expression. He hasn't even noticed you've walked in, too busy attempting to intimidate Seokjin out of there, it seems.

"Well, I was hoping to say it's a pleasure to meet you, but now I'm beginning to doubt that. Behave, kid." Seokjin speaks curtly, voice emptied of emotion.

"I'm not a child." Jungkook responds, huffing.

You make your presence known, walking into the room and sitting opposite, beside Seokjin. Jungkook's eyes narrow, flickering between the two of you, as though he's figuring something out. Perhaps coming to terms with the fact that he really is in trouble this time. That there's even two of you interrogating him now.

Whatever he ends up concluding, he scowls, clearly not pleased by it.

"Now, the victim-"

"The boy you assaulted." Seokjin pipes in.

"Is undergoing surgery for his injuries." You frown, "Jungkook, if there's a complication…if he doesn't make it out of there, you're going to be in for a lot more than this. I'm worried, honestly."

His eyes flash, "You're worried? About me?"

You nod. Jungkook looks delighted, if only for a brief moment. It's almost pitiful how easy it is to cheer him up, the thought only worrying you more.

"You should be worried too." Seokjin hisses. "You're going to be locked away forever if you don't start talking."

"We were talking, officer." Jungkook smiles, mocking. His eyes are deadly. "Perhaps if you stopped interrupting us-" He trails off.

"Oh. Oh I get it now." Seokjin laughs, voice cold still. "If you tell me what you did, kiddo, I promise I won't tell Y/n here anything."

"She's your commanding officer." Jungkook argues, looking frustrated. A little panicked, too. Is it working? Finally? "You can't withhold that information. You're lying."

"...With my permission, it's acceptable." You nod, sending your most comforting look to Jungkook.

He shakes his head, once, twice, continuously. Panicked. "No, no, you'll- you're going to hate me for it, I know it! I'm not saying anything! I won't!"

"Jungkook." You soothe, he opens one eye, slowly. "I won't hate you, I won't even know what you say. It's okay, if you tell officer Kim what we need to know, then we can work on helping you. You just need to help us first. Okay?"

He pauses, staring at you, long and hard. Jungkook's eyes shine wide, searching for something. He sighs, nodding. "...Please don't listen in..?"

You nod, grabbing your notepad and leaving. Of course, you need to know what's going on. But if that happens a little while later, it won't hurt. Even if Seokjin ends up telling you the details later, it won't hurt. You'd feel far too cruel betraying Jungkook's trust now, not when you'd seen the desperation in his eyes.

You walk to the coffee machine, pressing the buttons until your drink is spilling through the filter. You always forget to put the cup down. You stand, waiting for it to fill up. It seems to be taking forever.

Each drop is slow. Gradual. It's almost relaxing, how the coffee drips at its own pace, regardless of the hustle and bustle around you, especially at the station.

You watch each drop fall into the dark drink, waiting. It's waiting to finish as much as you are waiting.

"Fuck you!! You bastard!!! You lied to me!!" Jungkook's screeches can be heard throughout the station. Apparently the interrogation room really isn't as soundproof as you'd like to think, though rarely does someone yell with such ferocity.

It's only when you hear thudding, loud clambering from inside the room that you rush to action. It sounds like they're fighting, but there's no way…there's no way Jungkook could've-

The door swings open, harsh. It hits the wall with a bang.

Seokjin stumbles out, face pale, a little blood on his face. You rush over at once. "What happened?! Are you okay??"

"He's…he's a complete psycho. That crazy fucker. I can't believe this. Y/n, he-"

A shout from inside cuts him off, a ferocious roar, fueld with anger, "Shut the fuck up!! I told you if I ever heard your voice again I'd rip your tongue out with my bare hands!!"

Seokjin quietens his voice immediately, looking genuinely fearful. "He's obsessed with you, Y/n. That's why he's done this, all of this. Don't go in there."

"I have to." You grit your teeth.

He sighs, nodding, clearly worried. "...be careful. Get out if you need to, no matter what. And don't trust him."

You head back inside. The room looks as though a storm has ripped through it. And yet Jungkook still sits on the chair, hands still cuffed to the table. But the papers are strewn everywhere, the two chairs opposite are toppled.

"Y/n!" Jungkook practically cheers out your name. You steel yourself. You must not fall for his traps. His smile drops instantly, "I guess that bastard told you everything already…Guess there's no hiding it anymore…haha…" He grins at you, lazily, but his affections are obvious. You can't believe you've been so stupid, thinking he thought of you as a role model. Stupid.

"So…" Jungkook starts, "Don't suppose you wanna go on a date sometime?"

"You know that's not possible, Jeon."

He groans, "Ugh. I'd made so much progress with you! You finally actually liked me! Maybe not as much as I wanted, but you were so nice… And you finally started calling me by my name. You have no idea how good it sounds coming from you." He sighs, dreamily, "I think even the fucking death penalty would sound good from your lips."

"You can't do this. You can't hurt people just because-"

"Stop saying that! You understand now! It wasn't just anyone, I was defending you!!" He peers up, noticing your silence. Jungkook begins to laugh, manic, irrational laughter. "You hate me now, don't you?" His eyes are brimming with tears. "You do! You think I'm a monster!!" He laughs, pained, wincing between each laugh.

You're still silent.

"You hate me." He whispers.

Jungkook suddenly lurches forward, not to attack you, but instead to slam his own head on the table. The metal table. You rush forward immediately.

"You think I'm a monster." He slams it back down, hard. You shriek at the sight of blood staining the surface. His own forehead is in a much worse state. His nose drips with blood. He must have broken it. Jungkook manages another chuckle, clearly about to continue.

"Stop it! Stop it, Jungkook. Please." You finally reach him. You know it's stupid, but you're concerned. You take his face into your hands, to check for injuries, to comfort him, hopefully, and to keep him from harming himself anymore. It looks bad, it looks painful. You move only one hand away, cupping his cheek with the other. A quick distraction. Jungkook seems to lean into the touch, suddenly docile. You pull out the first aid kit you carry with you. Just a small pack, but you're worried that if you leave he'll panic again. You can't risk it.

You dab at his wounds carefully with the wipes, that being all you had with you at the time. His eyes don't leave your face for even a second.

Jungkook winces, hissing a little as you press a sensitive spot. "Sorry." You mumble.

He shakes his head, smiling softly. Adoringly. "You're gentle with me, my love." He closes his eyes, peering at you with mischief in his mind. "You can be rough if you want. I'll succumb to your everything. My body belongs to you."

"No, Jungkook. It doesn't. Your body belongs to no one but yourself, and the same is true for all of us. I don't have the right to hurt you even if you…"

"Love you? Even if I love you? I beg to differ. I would gladly let you do anything to me." He whispers the words, a dream said aloud.

starstruck (2)

the world of flashing lights, screaming people and new projects and jobs are all new to you - luckily jungkook is right by your side for every step of it.

word count: 5.471

warning: unsolicited touching/fingering, power imbalance, manipulation, guilt tripping :{, oral sex, smut, unprotected sex, praising, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, possessive behavior,

part one

“What do you think the blogs would say about us?” Jungkook jokes, a soft smile on his thin lips. He glances away from the obvious pap with a camera and eyes you. 

“Nothing too bad I hope.” you laugh. 

You don’t want to follow Jungkook’s eyes and catch the cameraman - or several - all pointing and snapping pictures at the two of you. They were mainly here for Jungkook, of course, as you were still a fresh face.

Jungkook had asked you to go to lunch today. Shooting didn’t start until later on so it was easier to agree. Months of shooting the movie, it was easier to say that Jungkook and you were growing closer as co-workers.

Friends?

Could you say Jungkook and you were friends? Everytime you think about how you and he slept together - for the sake of the movie, of course - it makes your body hot. But damn did it also make the scenes easier when you had to pretend to moan a certain way. Jungkook had told you to just remember how good you felt for him that night and to pretend that it was all real now.

“What could they say?”

Jungkook smiles at the server as she drops two plates on either side of you. You only got a salad while Jungkook opted for a steak.

“They’ll probably be dating rumors.” Jungkook speaks again. He’s cutting into his steak, his eyes watching it intently. 

“Really?” you murmur. Your eyes glances out the window to see if there’s anyone you notice snapping pictures, your nerves flowing.

“Don’t look so scared.” Jungkook laughs, sinking his teeth into the steak. His eyes are now watching you closely, taking in your soft features. “Besides, it’ll be good press.”

You knit your brows. “Good press?”

Jungkook nods. You aren’t accustomed to this lifestyle and still - months in - he finds it cute. “We’re going to have to promote the movie before and during its release.” he explains just as you begin to pour the cup of dressing onto your salad.

“You’re right.” you snort at yourself. This was a big movie and that meant promotion. The movies you’ve acted in before didn’t require that in the slightest. “I’ve never had to do that before. Do we just…talk about the movie?”

Jungkook nods his head. “Yes. We say enough without disclosing too much until after it’s released. But…” he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows. It causes you to giggle a bit, lifting the salad to your mouth and munching. “....it’d be a better promotion if people assume we’re a couple.”

You hum, tilting your head. You suppose he was correct. If people thought Jungkook and you were a couple, it would get even more eyes on the movie. It would get people pondering about you and him - especially you as the upcoming actress alongside such a powerful face. 

“Until they see the movie and witness just how toxic everything is.” you joke a bit.

Jungkook takes another bite of his steak. “People love toxic.” he shrugs one shoulder. “Some people are going to find it hot. Find us hot.”

Your body warms once more with how Jungkook says it. The way his eyes are staring right through you is an added bonus, reminding you of just how well he’s gotten to know you in such a short amount of time. 

“We have to give the people what they want, right?” Jungkook raises one brow, awaiting your response.

You’re silent at first, unsure of what to do or say. Then, you nod your head. It was obvious that Jungkook wanted you to - and wanted for the two of you to go through with what he suggested. He was the one with the experience, after all.

As for Jungkook, he offers a warm smile. His eyes sparkle a bit as he watches you, knowing full and well that the camera outside the restaurant was going to capture this genuine moment between the two of you. He holds out his right hand for you to take and slowly, you do, a bit uncertain. 

“You,” Jungkook begins, his thumb rubbing along the top of your hand. “are going to be a star, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your cheeks are warm and you nod your head. It was as if you were in a trance, fully captivated by the performance that Jungkook was putting on - if this was even a performance in his eyes or not.

“So tell us, how do the two of your characters meet in the movie?” the interviewer asks, dancing her eyes between you and Jungkook. “I’ve seen the trailer of it and it’s…” she shakes her head, a smile forming on her lips that shows a tint of mischief. “...hot to say the least.”

“And toxic.” Jungkook chuckles, turning his head to the left to glance your way.

Your eyes catch his and you return his smile. “Sooo toxic.” you agree, a short laugh passing your lips immediately after. “When the trailer released, I wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback on a horror-like movie. But this is also my first big movie I did, so it’s all surreal.”

The camera man is sure to capture the looks between you and Jungkook, the way his smile would brighten when you’d look his way.

“But, our characters meet in a club in which I’m a bartender.” you explain. You’re seated so close to Jungkook that your shoulder brushes his. 

“Strip club.” the interview nods, raising her brows. 

“Yes,” you chuckle, nodding your head. “a strip club. We filmed in an actual club downtown where I was shown how to serve the drinks and all.”

Jungkook watches the way you explain, moving your hands to explain further. His mind wanders to the club scene, recalling the way you were dressed for said scene. He licks his lips, his mind flashing to the leather you wore. Backless halter top with matching tight leather pants that looked entirely too appealing on you. 

“And my character pays for a lapdance from her. In the movie, it’s a big deal since she’s not a dancer, but a bartender.” Jungkook explains, glancing at the interviewer. “It’s, of course, supposed to show that my character was someone with power and money. Especially if he paid for her the entire night.”

There was another look shared between you and Jungkook. Once more, you both laugh sheepishly, recalling the many times you had to give him a lap dance simply because you or him were messing up.

“In the movie, he came with his friends but he was the birthday boy.” you say, knocking your shoulder into Jungkook’s playfully. “When you watch the movie, it really shows how complex his character is.”

The interviewer raises her eyebrows. “How so?”

“At first, he’s…shy. Nervous even.” Jungkook answers. “And each time he comes back to the bar, he’s more confident. He doesn’t show who he really is until later on into the movie.”

“I guess that’s what makes it a thriller.” the interviewer wiggles her eyebrows. “What were your favorite scenes you did together?”

The camera captures you and Jungkook glance at one another again, both of you putting on an amazing show of chemistry. Ever since shooting wrapped up and now, the trailer dropping, you and Jungkook were all anyone could talk about. You had people who shipped you two together, coming up with couple names already while others made up their own synopsis of what the movie would be about with what little they were given.

With Jungkook, it was never truly a dull moment. Even during photoshoots, he and you had fun. Witnessing him become the Jungkook you know - funny, sweet and caring, to the character was amazing. He knew how to turn it on and off and even during photoshoots, he showed it. The movie poster behind you and him now captures the possessiveness his character has over yours. His arms wrapped around you, eyes staring right at you while yours were instructed to look towards the camera. The movie title is displayed right about you, yet seems to fade off a bit to solely focus on you and him.

“Mine would have to be…” you trail off, thinking for a moment. “...when he finally shows his true colors, I suppose. He becomes possessive entirely until it’s too unbearable for her to handle.”

You turn to face Jungkook, cheeks warming when he’s already looking your way.

“My favorite would have to be a much more…intimate scene.” Jungkook states. “It comes right after we had an argument and my character charms her a bit. He’s been acting crazy and obsessive but he has a way with words.”

Your smile falls a bit as you recall the exact scene Jungkook’s referencing. Your whole body feels warm now and you shift in your seat at being reminded of it.

The intimate scene itself wasn’t what caused you to shift. You and he had done much more uncomfortable scenes for a movie such as this. No, it was how ashamed you felt at doing something like that with Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t see a problem with it. The scene caused for you and hilton beneath the covers anyways. The director, a few crew and an intimacy coach were there and you’ve done exactly what you were supposed to do. Like the intimacy coach said, intimate moments were usually acts of camera play anyways.

Yet Jungkook fingering you in front of the unknowing crew wasn’t a part of the schedule. His lips on yours to silent your protest as his fingers forced their way through your shorts and into your panties. It’s what the script called for, right? Why pretend to do it if he could do it for real and capture your actual moans and groans - all without anyone knowing what’s going on.

The adrenaline going through Jungkook as he pumps his invasive fingers in and out of you is insane to him. His lips kiss down your neck, soft voice telling you that “everything is okay” and to just “go along with it”.

Your mind had gone blank and you didn’t know what to do yourself. You didn’t want to ruin the scene or make Jungkook out to be a creep. So you helplessly laid there, widening your thighs as Jungkook’s fingers pound in you, his palm rubbing against your wet clit. He leans away a bit to look in your fluttering eyes, a smug look on his face at the genuine pleasure on your face. Even if it wasn’t in the script, he places his lips against yours possessively. He moans during the kiss, your lips one of his favorite tastes.

 And even as it was over by you, embarrassingly, cumming all over Jungkook’s hands, the director yells cut and even compliments the both of you. “It felt so raw and real.” he stated - how right he was.

You blink a few times when you feel Jungkook’s hand on your knee, squeezing it a bit.

“Yeah.” you smile a bit, awkwardly. “I remember that scene, too.”

“Y/N, tell me,” the interview leans forward a bit. “you’re the new star. You’re the talk of the internet now.” she starts. “How was it working side by side with the infamous Jeon Jungkook?”

You lick your lips. “It was hard at first. I was new to this.” you explain. “But…Jungkook made it easier for me. We got to know one another and it made things more relaxed on set. I would say he’s become a very close friend to me.”

Jungkook simpers your way, his eyes twinkling a bit at your words. His heart does a small jolt at your praises, finding that he enjoys your praises and compliments - even if he hears them from everyone constantly.

Almost overnight, you are a star. Your name is everywhere - news articles, social media posts. Your name is screamed alongside Jungkook’s during red carpet events - events you and he both attend. While Jungkook admired how beautiful you looked while alone during your pictures, he adored holding the small of your back as it was time for you and him to take pictures together. He went as far as stating that for all events and press tours, you and he should coordinate outfits - for the movie, of course.

The movie was a success, skyrocketing your career alongside Jungkook’s. Witnessing billboards advertising your movie - a movie that actually made theaters and wasn’t a cheap made-for-tv movie - left you in awe. 

And it didn’t stop there.

People actually liked you and Jungkook together. You were told to ignore hate tweets, but those were minimal compared to the ones you’ve received that enjoyed watching the movie - even if it was a disturbing one. 

The people loving you and Jungkook together meant that you were supposed to give them what they wanted - what Jungkook wanted. “Stand a little closer to me.” he’d murmur to you, flashing lights nearly blinding you. Jungkook told you to try to not look directly into them, but past them - you didn’t get the hang of it just yet. “We should be seen more often in public.” Jungkook suggested, going as far as holding your hand and oftentimes, pressing his lips to the back of it.

You were far too shy to ask Jungkook why you and he continued going on like this. You danced around the question whenever asked about your relationship with the established man, you’d laugh nervously and just say you and he were just friends.

Even with the amount of pictures and videos of you and Jungkook at red carpet events, his hands on your waist and you so close to his side. But you had to! The crowded spaces of red carpets and microphones being shoved in your face was overwhelming - and Jungkook knew just how to react each and every time.

Jungkook enjoyed your perfume, especially when it was left on his suit at the end of the night. What he enjoyed more than your perfume on his suit, was having you in his bed at night.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t shy to speak about you. Whenever asked, his smile would brighten, as would his eyes. He could steer his interview away from him and talk about you for as long as they’d let him - “Y/N’s such a natural behind the camera,” he’d say. “It’s because of her performance that the director is thinking of a sequel,”

“I actually love Y/N very much,” your eyes widen as you listen to the interview, headphones over your ears. Your heart pumps loudly in your chest, your hands growing sweaty. “we’ve been dating for quite some time now…” he trails off with a laugh, a pink tint to his cheeks.

You tear the headphones from your ears and throw them aside. Your body is warm by his words, having been sent the interview countless times. Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing the entire time that you’ve silenced your phone.

“You aren’t upset with me are you?” Jungkook asked when he arrives to your penthouse - it was a gift from him after you landed a modelling deal. He told you the cost was pocket change when you expressed concerns. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has his own suite just on the other side of the building - not yet at least. “I thought you knew I loved you, Y/N, how could you not?”

You could never stay mad with Jungkook, especially not when he wraps you in a warm embrace. He always smells so clean  - like soap, oddly enough.

Jungkook’s lips are already on your neck, kissing down the soft skin as you shudder. “I want people to know you’re mine.” he murmurs against you, hands possessively pulling you close. “Want to show the world just how much I love and adore you.” he states.

You’re naked in a matter of seconds. You could never stay mad at Jungkook for long. A part of you believes that without Jungkook, you would be nowhere. You wouldn’t be feating upon fine dining meals with him, and instead would be eating the same take-out chinese in your much smaller apartment booking shitty horror movie gigs. 

Jungkook had done what he promised you. He had made you a star. People knew your name. They actually liked you and your performance - there was going to be a sequel set to start filming at the end of the year and you had Jungkook to thank for that; for believing in you.

Jungkook’s lips kiss down your stomach, forcing your legs apart. Your back is against your silk sheets, the coolness of them adding goosebumps to your warm skin. His hands are soft, only a bit callused as they slide down your naked body and rest on your thighs. 

“You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re my little shining star.” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. He doesn’t like to waste time, even if he does adore worshipping your body. 

Jungkook’s tongue, ever so slowly, teases your clit. He’s shuddering with excitement at your moans, finding them far too enticing. Far too enticing that he shoves his tongue deeper against your wet cunt.

Your hand tangles into Jungkook’s hair, lightly tugging to keep him in place. Your eyes watch the way his head bobs back and forth, devouring your pussy like his finest meal. He’s moaning against it, lapping his warm tongue against your clit over and over again. Suckling sounds are growing louder and louder, fingernails digging into your inner thigh to assure you don’t attempt to move in the slightest.

“Feels s-so good.” you whimper, grinding your hips a bit against his tongue, allowing yet another moan from parted lips. 

Eyes flicker up to look at you, clouded in darkened lust. He continues to suckle and lick, never coming up for a breath until your legs are shaking, back arching and you’re moaning so loud that it dances off the high ceilings. The scene is so beautiful, he thinks. The floor to ceiling-high windows display the city lights, but your penthouse is so high that you never close your curtains.

Your thighs close in, caging Jungkook between your legs. You’re greedily grinding against his tongue, your stomach churning and sinking in. Jungkook doesn’t go to stop you - he doesn’t mind the way your thighs are squeezing his head. Instead, he allows you to grind against his tongue until you’re cumming. 

You’re whining, eyes squeezed shut. He knows you’re going to cum, so his fingers curling inside of your already greedy cunt was just the icing on the cake. You’re babbling Jungkook’s name over and over again, voice growing higher and higher. Your pussy is soaking his lips and chin entirely and eventually, you’re cumming all over him.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, and all mine.” Jungkook grunts, removing himself from your glistening clit. “Mine, mine, mine.”

Your chest rises and falls, your pussy clenching and unclenching.

“Say it.” Jungkook demands. He starts with his shirt first, removing it from his body and discarding it. “Say that you’re mine.” he continues. He goes to his pants next, tearing them off along with his underwear. His cock is throbbing to be deep in your warm cunt.

“I’m yours.” you murmur, glading wrapping your arms around Jungkook as he hovers above you. Your hands roam his bare chest, to his shoulders then down his biceps. “I’m yours.” you repeat, fluttering your lashes innocently like you do.

Damn right you were, Jungkook thinks.

Jungkook doesn’t care about wearing a condom, but you’re also adamant on being on birth control. You just became a big star, getting pregnant wasn’t something that’s going to ruin that.

Jungkook’s cock is shoved right into you, your walls immediately tightening around him. He doesn’t hesitate to press your legs over his shoulder, gripping your thigh as he begins to pump his cock in and out of you. The way Jungkook stretches you is intoxicating, his cock ruining your pussy with how rough he is - but you’ve never complained. 

Jungkook knows he’s a great fucker - he’s been told countless times. But with you, it’s different. He cares about your pleasure. He wants you shaking with bliss with how well his cock fucks you, witnessing your arousal coating his cock and thighs. 

“My little star,” Jungkook coo’s, your face drawn in such gratification. Your hands squeeze his bicep in an attempt to slow him down, but he wasn’t going to. “you’re so beautiful on my cock, baby. All mine.”

Jungkook’s speed quickens, his skin slapping harshly against yours and it echoes off the high ceilings. It was beginning to rain, the droplets slamming against the window.  His cock is pounding so deep and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.  

“Your cock feels so good!” you gasp. Your hand squeezes his tattoo bicep for support, his tip reaching your g-spot each and every time. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. Your velvety walls entice him, sinking him deeper and deeper into you. He’s positive your thighs would have fingernail marks just as his biceps would have from yours, but of course neither of you care. “My shining star looks so pretty right now. You were upset because I told everyone I loved you, huh?”

Your cheeks are warm at the “love” word, but your heart is pounding. It all feels surreal - to be loved by someone like him. You were waiting to wake up one day and be back in your small apartment and for all of this to be a dream.

“N-No,” you cry, shaking your head a bit. “I love you, too.”

You’re unaware just how easily the two of you throw around the word love. Your love is from a mentee to a mentor, your admiration for Jungkook high. You never wanted to disappoint him and you prayed often that his own likeness for you wouldn’t fade.

Jungkook’s love for you is that of obsession, now - possession. He found you, a diamond in the rough, and gave you the opportunity of a lifetime. He molded you into the perfect star that you are now, beloved by the people and soon,  you’d be at the top of the world. 

All because of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his eyes squinting into slits. “your pussy is amazing, my little star. All for me and me only.”

Jungkook forces your legs away and up against your shoulders. The new position causes you to yelp with how deep he is. He grinds his cock into you, watching your eyes widen and your lips fall apart. 

“My pussy to fuck any time I want, right?” Jungkook growls, your bouncing breast enticing him. Fuck, did you feel good around him.

“Slow…slow down, Kook-”

“No,” Jungkook hisses. If anything, he goes harder.

You cry for Jungkook to slow down, but the way you were squeezing around him indicates that you don’t want him to. You’re milking his cock right now, leaking all over your bed that he’s paid for like a little whore. Your eyes water, becoming glossier as overstimulation hits you.

“My pussy to fuck as hard as I want, too. You belong to me, my little star. Everything when it comes to you is mine.”

You were so silly, Jungkook thinks, begging him to slow down but you’re cumming all over him. Sticky juices coating his abdomen as you lay limp against your bed, twitching legs - but Jungkook wasn’t done yet, not until he was cumming.

Your eyes are fluttering, moans a hushed whimper now as his cock pounds in and out of you sloppily, curses and grunts releasing from your lips until you feel him cum inside of you. 

“You’re…firing me?”

You remain silent, eyes casting away as your agent looks between you and Jungkook.

“Y/N doesn’t need your surfaces anymore.” Jungkook speaks up. You and he are seated in the diner and all you’re drinking is a latte at the moment. You were too nervous and you know you won’t be able to hold anything down.

Your agent scoffs. She licks her lips for a moment, glaring her eyes to you. 

“Say something, Y/N.” she demands. “If you’re firing me, don’t have your boyfriend do it.” she scoffs with a bitter laugh.

Your body is warm with embarrassment and nerves. You didn’t want to look at her and see the look in her eyes of now being without a job. Your heart is pounding, your palms growing sweaty. 

“You’re pathetic.” she groans.

“Watch your mouth.” Jungkook pipes in, his voice dangerously low. 

The diner is nearly empty, only occupied with older people who always minded their business - one of the main reasons why Jungkook loved coming here with you. That, and the banana pancakes were the best in town.

“Fuck the both of you.” your now ex-agent spats, slamming her hands against the table. You are seated in the far back of the diner and no heads turn. “You think just because you’re an actress now that got your big break that you’re on top?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to be here right now. This wasn’t even your idea, you think, it was Jungkook. He was the one that suggested that he be your agent and manager as he was an actor and he understood the in’s and out’s of the entertainment industry.  He could negotiate you for bigger and better deals and movie contracts that suited you the best - not some agent who wasn’t known at all.

“I said,” Jungkook hisses, leaning against the table. “watch your fucking mouth.” he says through gritted teeth. His hand reaches out and two fingers poke against her forehead roughly and rather disrespectfully. “I was nice enough to give you another client. Don’t piss me off.”

“Jungkook,” you murmur, finally glancing up. “Stop-”

“Fuck you.” your ex-agent repeats. She stands and shakes her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure you did.

Everything went through Jungkook first before you. With Jungkook managing you, that meant that the opportunities were endless. You were an ambassador for popular and well-known brands. You got to wear - and keep - clothing from high end brands. You stared in tv-shows and commercials and got movie deals alongside actors you’ve never thought you’d be in the same room as - all like Jungkook.

But Jungkook wasn’t just your agent and manager, but your boyfriend. He reads the things people say about you online - the good, the bad and the perverted. There were accounts that said such disgusting things about you - what they wanted to do to you.

And your toes. 

Jungkook had managed to get the site taken down, but that wasn’t the end of it. You received fanmail and gifts and he only ever kept those that were from girls, but it was hard.

“The script needs to be changed.” Jungkook scoffs, slamming the book down against the coffee table.

“What’s wrong with it?” the director asks with raised eyebrows. “Y/N is the lead. Our final girl.”

“And that’s amazing.” Jungkook shrugs. Jungkook had told them prior that if they wanted you in this movie, that you had to be the final girl. He wouldn’t allow you to play a useless character - you were his shining star and stars don’t die in movies. “But there’s a sex scene.”

The director scoffs. “Yea.” he says slowly. “This is a horror movie. Sex sells in horror.” he says. “There’s sex scenes in the movie you two did together.”

Jungkook tilts his head, unamused. There was a reason why he doesn’t care about the sex scene you and he did in his movie - and the director knows that.

“If you want Y/N in your movie,” Jungkook begins. “change. The. Scene.” he says slowly. “Or she’s going somewhere else.”

The scene was changed and at every shoot you were supposed to be on, Jungkook was there. He loves seeing you act - you were a natural. He adored driving down and seeing you on billboards or against buildings. 

Jungkook does this to keep an eye on you, of course. He trusts you, but not whatever men that were on set. 

It was even better when Jungkook and you walked together, side by side and arm in arm. You and him were the hottest couple the entertainment industry had. Jungkook made it his mission to support all your projects, supporting them during interviews and events, showing how supportive he was of you and your growing career.

You’re so busy with this new success that you don’t even notice your ex-agent never working in the industry again. Wherever she tries to tell her story of how horrible Jungkook treated her, her accounts would just get banned or people would refuse to believe it. She isn’t allowed in any event near you or him and is escorted out by security upon arrival.

You also don’t notice how everyone steer clears from you at times. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of Jungkook. 

You haven’t heard the way he berated your co-star, not an unknown actress, but nowhere near his level, when she had accidently got in front of your shot during a scene.

You weren’t present when he threatened to make sure the director didn’t work in this industry again if he didn’t give you better clothing and lighting - his shining star deserved everything money could buy. After all, he was funding all of this.

You don’t - until you do.

You’ve never seen  Jungkook so angry. The way he yells at the stylist for daring to dress you in clothes that aren't appealing. How she had cried before apologizing, rolling the rack of clothes out of your room. Your eyes have widened at Jungkook and he shakes his head. “It’s hard to get good help.”

“That was uncalled for.” you murmur. You turn your head to face him. He’s holding a small glass of dark liquor and he scoffs. 

“Do you think I’d allow them to dress you in undeserving clothing, Y/N?” Jungkook licks his lips. “You deserve better.”

“You made her cry.” you cross your arms. “She’s just doing her job, Kook.”

Jungkook brings the glass to his lips again, dark eyes watching you as he takes another swig of it. “I’m doing my job, too.” he murmurs, licking his lips. “As your agent, manager and boyfriend.”

Your shoulders relax for a moment. You didn’t like when Jungkook was mean to people, especially at your expense. However, a side of you knew that he was doing this for your sake.

“I know.” you murmur, sighing. You drop your arms. “Still, go easy on them.”

Jungkook nods his head, but he knows more than anyone that he wasn’t going to go easy. Never when it came to you.

Whatever drama behind the scenes with Jeon Jungkook never made its way to the public. Whoever went against his orders were fired and blackballed - actors, crew, writers and directors. He had far too much pull in this industry that whatever happened behind closed doors would never see the light. 

Jungkook loves you, however. You were his shining star, after all. He adored you with every fiber of his being. It’s why he finds himself now, on one knee with the largest diamond ring you’ve ever seen in your life. The crowd is screaming and the lights are flashing even faster now. At first you’re confused, until you hear everyone screaming “say yes”.

Your head turns to Jungkook and your eyes widen. Your heart is pumping so loudly in your ears that you find it hard to breathe. Your palms grow sweaty, nervousness building up. You were on the red carpet for a new movie - not a proposal.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you continue to look at him, a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It causes you to blink a few times before smiling widely. “...Y-Yes!” you squeal.

Jungkook slides the sparkling ring onto your finger and gets on your feet. He wraps you in his arms, kissing your forehead. 

Jungkook senses your hesitance, the scared yet slightly upset look in your eyes - maybe because this was your moment that he had made about the two of you. Yet he does what he does because he loves you - you’re his shining star. He had molded you from the unknown actress in shitty movies, to a star whose light hadn’t faded all in under two years. He’s made you the top model, actress and ambassador - the least you could do was show him more appreciation for his hard word and investment.

After all, you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s wrath. He could show you another side of him that you wouldn’t love in the slightest.

@darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @chimmy-licious @investedreader @allie-in-the-moon @iveivory @annyeongbitch7 @minshookie29 @honeymeraki @keen-li @minimoninini @parkinglot-nights @frxnkiie @haru-jiminn @whothefuckisthishoe @mar-lo-pap @jimineepaboya @lola75111 @crybaby29 @bluelavendre