Fighter (Jungkook)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚yan!biker!Jungkook x vet!reader⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Just an idea I've had for a while, sorry for all the grammatical and structural errors, english is not my first language. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ I think it would be such a cute grumpy x sunshine trope, but like he is a grouch around everyone else, but turns soft and loving only with the reader. And he's whipped. And I mean really, really whipped like he will do anything and everything for you, and I mean it. He's a yandere after all.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ He's definitely the type of guy who lives by the words "I would let the world burn for her" and "she's the ray of sunshine in my life", while the reader, on the other hand, is a cutesy, cheerful, animal lover. You work in a vet clinic, and that's how you guys met.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ Jungkook came in with his Doberman for a check-up. Immediately, he was drawn to your presence, your smile, and the soft way you handled Bam. He's smitten with the way you talked, walked, well, with your whole existence basically. He felt as though he was under some spell, as if the whole world stopped moving the moment you met.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ Later that day, when he came home with a dopey smile on, he couldn't think of anything else but you. He decided then and there that you were his true soulmate and he had to make you his.  

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ By pure coincidence, you guys met again at the park that he visits with Bam for walks. You were sitting on a bench on a particularly sunny and beautiful day, wearing a cute white dress with little pink flowers on it and a baby pink cardigan to match. You were reading a book when suddenly a familiar Doberman approached you with a wagging tail. Right behind him was a jogging Jungkook who couldn't believe his eyes. It's you in your cute, coquettish little outfit with that dazzling smile and warm, glowing aura. He made a mental note to buy Bam extra treats for being such a good boy by finding you for his dad.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ He was all smiles with you, despite looking so rugged and dangerous with all the tattoos and piercings, he acted so soft and gentle with you, as if afraid that you'd run away. You guys exchanged numbers, and he made you promise that you would go out soon.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ You guys text, finally set the time and place, and he picks you up in his car for the dinner date. You wore a long red dress, and he wondered how he would last all night without touching you when you looked this divine.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ You two had an amazing time together, you laughed, got to know each other more, and by the time the date was over and he drove you back home, you parted with him with a sweet kiss. Jungkook swore he'd heard wedding bells in his head and felt drunk despite not drinking anything.

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ With how inpatient and invested Jungkook is, you guys start dating not long after (probably around the third date).

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ He is all in in this relationship and I mean ALL IN as in getting you two custom helmets and jackets for his bike, visiting you at your lunch breaks at the clinic and either coming with a homemade lunch or taking you out, having you over at his place and letting you wear only his clothes there, texting you good morning and goodnight which makes him the first and last person you message everyday, buying you a cute pink set to go to the gym with him when in fact it's mostly either you watching him work out or him helping you with the exercises (honestly just looking for excuses to touch you), etc. 

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ Jungkook is very big on pda, and he absolutely has to touch you in some way at all times. He loves to kiss you, and he's baffled how he could survive without you before. He swears he's never felt this much love for anyone in his entire life. He loves spooning you in bed, kissing your neck and breathing you in, or having you lie down on his chest completely, feeling your weight on him being the best reminder that you are here with him, safe in his arms and utterly and completely his.  

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ He is very protective and easily triggered if anyone even dares to look your way for too long. He believes that only he gets to admire you and look at you freely (even tho he knows you're a beauty and unfortunately for him others see that too). He might or might not have threatened or beaten up a couple of guys who (by his standard) acted disrespectfully towards his relationship, but in his eyes, it's fine, as long as you'll never get to know. You would probably worry and get worked up, and he doesn't want that. Jungkook just wants to keep you safe, and what's safer than being with him?

ㅤ⋆˚♡⋆˚ Despite his jealousy and possessiveness, he's the most caring, loving boyfriend ever, and he would probably rather cut himself open than let anyone or anything hurt you. Jungkook treats you like a princess, and whatever you ask of him, he's ready to deliver. You're hungry? Baby, a three-course meal is already on the table. You're feeling stressed and insecure? Let him cuddle you and pepper your face with kisses, telling you every little thing he loves about you. You're feeling sick? He's there to take care of you, cooking you soup and making sure you take your medicine. You wanna go shopping? He's already on his bike, ready to go with you, see you model all the clothes, and buy you whatever you like. You're the love of his life, his soulmate, future wife, and mother of his children and he would be damned if he ever let you slip through his fingers. You're it for him today, tomorrow, and forever.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

Let me know if u guys liked this headcanon with yandere biker! JK and if you want more! Till next time, then!

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

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.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. yandere painter who's obsessed with his clueless muse

it all started with a "hi".

you were just being nice. you saw him around the apartment building often, so it wasn't out of the blue. the two of you just happened to be taking the same elevator at the same time. nothing big.

at least, that's what he thought.

then it happened again. your smile was slightly wider, more genuine than last time. were you happy to see him?

"hello," you offered a small wave, to which he nodded in response to.

he tried not to look at you. tried not to notice your curious eyes that gazed over his paint-stained self.

"are you a painter?"

it was a dumb question, but he turned his head fully towards you to show his acknowledgement. "yea. i am."

"that's cool."

small talk. it was all so casual.

so why could he make out your face in the midst of his multicoloured strokes?

the unfinished portrait of you stared back at him as his paintbrush hovered over the canvas, stuck in motion. his brows furrowed as he stared at the surface, as if glaring would make you go away.

but you didn't. and he kept painting. he convinced himself that you were simply a good subject. yes, that's why his room was filled with different paintings of you.

but it wasn't enough, there was something missing.

he became obsessed, his streaks growing more furious after each dip in paint. he needed to get your exact features down to a t. he needed to embed your very soul into the painting, nothing else would suffice.

his apartment turned into one big, messy shrine of you. brushes and paint bottles carelessly strewn around, mountains of canvases piled high on top of each other.

"hey.. i painted you," he'd mumble, acting nonchalant as the portrait shook in his hands as he extended it towards you.

did you hate it? it doesn't look anything like you! he's a terrible painter, what was he thinking? your silence is killing him, please, say something-!

"wow. this is.. amazing. thank you!" that smile. that damn smile that made his heart burst into a million pieces.

"you're welcome," he grinned way too wide, making up some excuse to get back to his apartment just so he could create more art of you.

of course, nothing could compare to the real thing. but for now, he's content to have you as his muse <3.

That was a mistake 😭. I meant jk as a friend of oc’s elder brother. I know you already have off limits but I kinda crave a non con with manipulating shif

okay so basically a yandere version of "off limits"?? coming right up!!

twisted

jungkook has been getting you out of trouble for as long as he can remember - and he was tired of doing it without anything in return.

word count: 3.944

warning: power imbalance, smut, police officer jungkook, yandere tendencies, blackmail, dubcon/noncon, alcohol intake/intoxication, age difference, unsolicited touching/rubbing/groping, nipple sucking, fingering, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, coercion, manipulation, overstimulation, read the warnings and dont cancel me,

For as long as Jungkook has known you, you were a bit of a trouble maker. 

Jungkook first met you after becoming friends with your older brother. You and him were opposites, yet close. While you would often skip classes sometimes to do God knows what, he never had. He was always on top of his priorities, graduating with honors.

You, however, did enough to get to the next level. Even if your brother didn’t approve of your way of life, he did support you in whatever you did.

In a way.

Your brother despised your friend group. They weren’t good influences on you. They often dragged you down with them - surrounding you with boys older than you that always prompted him to keep an eye out on you. 

Him and his friends - Jungkook mainly. It was a full time job looking for you after you snuck out to go to parties. Prying the filthy hands of college boys off of you, all the while telling them that you were indeed under age and not even in High School. It always made you shove him away, but he wasn’t upset by it.

When Jungkook graduated alongside his friends and your brother, it made things easier on you. You could party without having them look for you because they had their own things to worry about. Your brother was in the works of being a firefighter, Jungkook a police officer.

It wasn’t until your Junior year when you ran into trouble and needed a certain police officer to get you out of trouble. Your heart was pounding and your eyes were blinded by tears when you ended up in the back of a police car and brought to the precinct. 

It was Jungkook who got you out of that, assuring that you were someone he knew and it wouldn’t happen again. The officer who brought you in had dropped you into Jungkook’s care without any worries, claiming he had better things to do.

It wasn’t the last time Jungkook abused his power to get you out of trouble - or wasn’t the last time you abused Jungkook.

Traffic stops ? You gave them Jungkook’s name.

A man got too handsy? Jungkook was on speed dial and he always handled it.

Firefighters were cool - but police officers were better.

Your senior year was when you took your schooling more seriously. Only because your brother promised that you could live with him instead of your parents. He stated he could get you into a college close to his apartment with connections he knew and that was all you needed.

Jungkook had attended your graduation, late and in police gear. Sometimes he’s grateful for the shades he wears outside. He gets the chance to look at your figure as you hug your friends, only sporting the cap and not the gown. Your dress wasn’t tight, nor was it too short. It stops a few inches above your knee. It flows in the light wind, giving his covered eyes a view of your thighs beneath the dress that’s supposed to be hidden.

“Congrats.”

Jungkook removed his shades as he approached you. He offered a short smile to you, one that you return. Your mother is taking pictures, proud of the way she now has two children who're on the right track for once.

You wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck, excited for the next chapter - and  possibly for more freedom that he’ll have to get you out of trouble from. Jungkook’s hands wrap around you slowly, but not too much to raise any alarms from his friend. Your breasts are against his chest and he can feel the way they rub as you hug him tightly.

The thoughts Jungkook has for you aren’t sane. They shouldn’t be there. He was older than you  - not old enough to raise alarms - and he’s known you since childhood. He’s watched you grow from a child to now a woman, your body forming over time. You grew into your womanly figure, one that he oftentimes feels bad about looking at.

As time passed, Jungkook began to ponder if you were teasing him. The amount of times he has gotten a call from you to pick you and your friends up from bars, far too drunk out your minds to fully understand what was happening. The way you wrap your arms around him and have him carry you to the police cruiser. Dealing with drunk women wasn’t fun, but at least he was on the clock doing it.

Jungkook recalls the times he’d drop you off at your brother’s while he was working nights and you’d hold onto him so close. The fruity lemon drops and perfume radiating off of your skin.

You were completely comfortable with Jungkook, not seeing him as any sort of threat. Upon entering your bedroom, you’d tear your clothes off without a care. You hadn’t even bothered to see if he’s left you.

Jungkook recalls the way his mouth salivated as you plop onto your bed, eyes closing and mumbling drunkenly. You had rolled around, your panties and bra both lace and doing little to hide anything from him.

Jungkook shouldn’t have, but your skin looked so smooth and soft. His hand starts at your ankles, slowly making their way up your leg, past your knee and towards your thigh. You’re murmuring so low, not forming words with how intoxicated you were. 

You were teasing him - Jungkook knows this now. Your legs move, thighs widening to give him a glimpse between your legs. He couldn’t help but just have a touch. His soft fingertips ghost past your inner thigh until he’s touching your barely clothed clit. He hums to himself as his fingertips rub ever so gently.

Jungkook knows this is wrong. You were off limits to him. This wasn’t bro code - but he couldn’t help it. Not when you presented yourself to him. A soft moan comes from your lips that tells him how much you actually enjoyed this.

So Jungkook continues. He kneels by your bed. His breathing increases, his fingers continuing to rub circles onto your clit until he feels the damp spot. You were enjoying this more than he anticipated.

It was a matter of seconds, Jungkook had forced your lacy bra down to reveal your breast. His mouth was around your nipple, suckling greedily as his fingers inched inside of you. You’re squelching, pussy squeezing around his fingers.

Jungkook understands fully that you loved this. You loved the way his fingers took you, plunging in and out of you. You couldn’t stop moaning and groaning, your back arching slightly. You were so adorable, he thinks, eyes closed because it was hard to keep them open.

Your nipple pops from Jungkook’s lips. His eyes glances from your squelching pussy to your pretty face. His lips ghost past your lips, wanting to kiss you but pondering if maybe it was too much. But, when your eyes open slowly, not focusing on anything, he decides that you want him to.

So Jungkook does. His lips pressed against yours, tasting the lemon drops you love so much right on your lips. His uniform pants are tight with how hard his cock is and he wants to plunge it right into you.

You’d let him, Jungkook thinks. You want him to.

However, Jungkook doesn’t. He loves you enough for you to be more coherent. Your stomach sinks in and out, more moans coming from your lips. Your thighs are shaking and he knows fully that your pleasure was becoming greater - greater and greater until you cum all over him.

You hadn’t remembered anything of that night - or any other night Jungkook had with you. You had continued to call him every time you needed him after a long night of partying. Like always, your brother wasn’t home and he felt more comfortable to follow you to your room.

Just as Jungkook is recalling the time, a car that is familiar to him flashes right past him. His car is parked on the side of the dark road, his lights off. He had a quota to meet.

And it appeared that today, you of all people, were going to be a part of said quota.

Jungkook turns his lights on, throws his car in drive and begins to drive down the same road. He turns his sirens on and watches the way you stop abruptly to the side.

You had to be drunk. It was 2 a.m and it made sense why you were outside. Ever since you got yourself a car - at your brother's expense - you hadn’t called him as much. But that's alright because the universe was now looking out for him.

“K-Kookie?”

Your voice cracks, your eyes softening. You thought it was someone else but of course, it was Jungkook. Again. 

“Do you know how fast you were driving?” Jungkook asks. He had since turned off his body-cam.

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. “No.” you murmur, your body warm with embarrassment.

“Have you been drinking?”

You swallow, sniffling. You take a deep breath.

“Step out the vehicle.” Jungkook takes a step back.

You flinch at Jungkook’s tone. He’s never spoken to you like a police officer before. “W-What? Why?”

“Step. Out. The. Vehicle.” Jungkook repeats slowly, voice serious.

You were tipsy, it’s obvious. Jungkook leaves you leaning against your car as he goes back to his cruiser to get a breathalyzer. When he returns, your eyes are sad watching him. “K-Kookie-”

“Blow.” Jungkook demands, holding out the breathalyzer.

You do, eyes looking up at him with those same sad eyes. Jungkook wants to laugh at how pathetic you looked. Your actions have consequences and finally, you were beginning to realize that. 

You watch as Jungkook looks at the breathalyzer before his eyes flicker up to you. His eyes are so dark, you think, and full of disappointment. It makes you feel small underneath his gaze. In highschool, you remembered the eyebrow piercing he had that you thought was cute. In college, he added a lip piercing - one that had your friends swooning. 

Your eyes trail to his uniform, now fully witnessing just how good Jungkook looked in it. It’s warm out tonight, so he’s not sporting his jacket. You always loved when he wore his sleeves up to his elbows so you can see his tattoos.

Jungkook doesn’t tell you that, though tipsy, you pass the breathalyzer. Instead, his eyes bore into yours so hard that your bottom lip quivers. He’s always gone easy on you - even while your brother wasn’t. He was there to defend you and treat you sweetly because you were just a girl

Now, however, Jungkook was tired of not getting anything in return.

“You could’ve hit someone.” Jungkook speaks. “Do you know how many drunk driving accidents kill innocents a year?”

“I’m not…” you take a deep breath in hopes to calm your beating heart. “...I’m not that drunk, Kookie, I-”

“Officer Jeon.” Jungkook corrects.

Your mouth drops slightly.

“I have the authority to arrest you right now.” Jungkook says. His heart does jolt when you begin to cry, but he doesn’t immediately go to comfort you - not now. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The waterworks come full force now. You probably looked ridiculous now, crying like a child. But you were a bit tipsy and your heart was beating too fast. You felt dumb for thinking Jungkook was going to continue to give you a pass and take advantage of his authority.

“I-I’m sorry, Kookie!” you hiccup,  immediately crashing into his chest. Your hands tug at his uniform shirt. “Please-”

Jungkook pushes you away, forcing you to turn around. Your chest presses against your car and you yelp, your tears flowing down your cheeks. 

“I think I’ve created a monster in you, Y/N. These are the consequences of my own actions.”

Jungkook doesn’t add the cuffs around your wrist, but you’re crying so much that you’d think he read you your rights and told you that you were being arrested on the spot. He doesn’t laugh like he wants to.

“You use me to your advantage all the time.” Jungkook continues, holding your wrist tighter in his grasp. “I’ve allowed you to get off time and time again. And for what? You never learn your lesson.”

You sniffle, your chest rumbling with pathetic sobs. You want to wipe your tears away, but you can’t. Was Jungkook really going to arrest you? Were you going to sit in jail?

What would your brother think about you driving under the influence? You had to be drunker than you thought if Jungkook was doing this.

“I’m sorry.” you say so softly, full of regret and guilt that it causes Jungkook to almost release your wrists. 

Almost.

“You know I love you, Y/N. I don’t want to do this.” 

You stop sniffling when you hear Jungkook’s tone softening. Your bottle lip continues to tremble, regret flowing through you at how you managed to disappoint your closest friend. How you completely abused his love for you for your own selfish ways.

“I don’t want to put these cuffs on you and put you in the back of my cruiser,” Jungkook continues, stepping closer to you. Just the act alone frightens you - you’ve never been in the back of his cruiser before, always the front. He allowed you to turn his sirens on and off drunkenly one night and you thought it was the next best thing. “and detain you at the precinct. You’ll have a dui on your license and you won’t be able to drive…”

You blink a few tears away. Your brother and parents would kill you if that happened. You were already on thin ice with your brother and you had since promised you’d be better.

You were doing a terrible job.

“...You can do something for me, though, right?” Jungkook’s is even closer now. His knee goes between your thighs and forces them apart. Without warning, you feel him press directly against your ass.

You’re silent, unsure if this was a hallucination or not. You had to be drunker than you thought.

“I’ve let you get away with everything, Y/N, you can give me something in return. To make this go away.”

Jungkook’s breath tickles the skin on your neck, so warm. You smell the caramel on him and you know how he keeps a few of them in his cruiser to munch on during long nights.

“K-Kookie?”

Your voice is so small and startled, afraid to move. It causes Jungkook to press himself further against you, his obvious bulge twitching against your ass. His hands hold onto your wrists tighter.

“I-I can’t.”

Jungkook wants to laugh. You can’t?

You can’t?

Jungkook couldn’t stop his paroles to make sure you got home safety - but he had. He couldn’t keep risking his job to get you out of trouble every time you fucked up, but he had. But here you stand, drunk and crying and you couldn’t do anything for him?

You were selfish.

“I’m s-seeing someone and I-”

Jungkook decides that he doesn’t care. One hand swiftly snatches your dress and pulls it up. “You’re so selfish, Y/N, after everything I do for you.” he spits, his soft tone gone and now replaced with a much harsher tone. “Who are you seeing? What’s his name?”

You gasp when Jungkook’s hand slides past  the thong you’re wearing, fingers hooking beneath it. He snaps it angrily - you were dressed so sluttish for him but claiming to be seeing someone. It didn’t make an ounce of sense. 

Jungkook doesn’t care who the boy is, but he makes sure to remember his name once you utter it - in case he came across him one day. His greedy fingers slide past your clit, rubbing small circles on it. 

“Kook-”

“You’re going to do what I say, Y/N, or I’m going to arrest you.” 

Your eyes widen at how harsh Jungkook speaks. Your thighs want to close, but his knee is blocking it. 

“You love me, don’t you? I’ve protected you for years, Y/N. It’s the least you can do.”

You’re so wet, Jungkook thinks, this excites you just as much as it excites him. The act of doing this late into the night, no one around, but completely in the open. He knows that not many cars come down this road, if any at all - but still, the sheer possibility of someone coming and witnessing him fuck you is highly exciting. 

“I’m doing this because I love you, Y/N. I want you to be better.” Jungkook’s tongue is invasive, licking the rim of your ear. “And I know you want this, too. You’re so wet.”

You’re entirely stiff, afraid to move or do anything. Your thighs shake slowly with the feelings of his fingers upon you. He rubs, speed increasing by the second. Your throbbing clit excites him just as much as your wetness.

Your eyes are wide, your tears slowly drying up and you’re left shocked. The night is so quiet, nothing but the police cruiser engine is heard. There aren't any stars in the sky, nor is the moon shining.

Jungkook’s fingers ease closer to your tight hole, groaning. He wonders if you were ever this wet for someone else like you were for him. If you remembered or not, he does recall just how soaked you were that night in your bedroom. The way your thighs opened wider for him to pleasure you more, your lips parting to form such tired moans.

“Are you afraid?” Jungkook murmurs, inching his fingers inside of you. The way you squeeze around him is so familiar. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Y/N, you know I’ll never hurt you.”

You release a soft sob, heart pounding through your ears. If you were asked this question any other time, you’d respond truthfully; how could you be afraid of someone that’s always made you feel safe. Yet here you two are, in the middle of the night, completely alone. He was like a wolf and you were the lamb, completely vulnerable.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that, right?” Jungkook begins to pump his fingers in you, his body shivering with just how tight and wet you are - so inviting to him that he knows you’re enjoying this more than you’re willing to admit.

“Kook…” you murmur, nearly inaudible. “p-please stop…”

This upsets Jungkook. His fingers indeed stop pumping for a moment to process your words. He closes his eyes for a moment, his anger slowly rising.

You aren’t allowed any time to process. Jungkook was trying to be nice to you because he loved you. He had enough respect for you as his best friend's sister - so much so that he wasn’t going to arrest you for driving under the influence.

But now you were just being selfish and he hated selfish individuals.

Jungkook removes his fingers from you and for a moment, you think it’s all over. Your heart swells and you’re ready to put this all behind you.

Then, you feel cold metal around your wrists. Jungkook cuffs you, both of your wrists bound behind your back. Your chest is still against your car and you’re ready to cry out once more. “Kook-”

You yelp when you feel Jungkook’s bare cock rub between your folds now. His left hand grips your hips to keep you right in place. Your breath hitches when you feel him at your hole, your body warm with intrusive embarrassment.

Jungkook loved you enough to not be rough with you, but you did this to yourself. It was a privilege to get off easy time and time again, and he wants you to know that.

Jungkook’s thrusts are punishing, pumping in and out of you without any mercy. The street lights are dim and yellow, but it does you the right amount of justice. He witnesses the way your pussy glistens with arousal from the cock you pretend not to enjoy.

Your eyes are fluttering in an attempt to stay open, your mouth wide open in shock, gasping breaths released every second due to his cock plunging in and out of you.

“I didn’t want to do this, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, his hands grasping your cuff wrists. He pulls you back as his hips rut, cock springing in and out of your warm pussy. “But you left me no choice. Isn’t this the least you could do for me?”

You feel as if your body is betraying you in the way your legs shake with pleasure that you didn’t ask for. Your mind screams at you to react, but you don’t. Not in the way you should, at least. This was Jungkook and you trusted him with your life and the naive part of you believed that even now, he couldn’t truly hurt you.

Right?

“Y-Yes,” you moan, unsure of what else to do or say. You were completely and utterly vulnerable. 

You’re squeezing around his cock so tight that Jungkook is positive you love the way his cock feels. He leans forward to press a tender kiss against your neck. One so soft that it goes against his harsh words and punishing hips.

You’re cumming before you know it, arousal leaking down your thighs. Jungkook’s cock hitting your g-spot over and over again. You couldn’t contain the moans any longer as it was becoming too much. 

Your mind is blank and you’re sure when this was all over, you were going to reflect on it and blame yourself for being in this situation to begin with. 

“You came all over yourself, Y/N, I knew you’d love it.” Jungkook chuckles darkly from behind you, sloppy thrusts slamming you against your car. “It’s my turn,” he grunts.

Jungkook’s pounding doesn’t stop until he’s cumming right inside of you, twitching when he does so. It takes a moment for him to pull out of you and regain his breath, but when he does he makes sure to make himself presentable. He pulls your dress down after pulling your panties back up.

The cuffs are off of you within a matter of seconds and Jungkook turns you around to face him. He has to look in your eyes to see if you despise him, an action he hope isn’t true, but he would understand if it was. Jungkook places a gentle hand behind your head when your eyes meet his, so sad and full of despair.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in his chest. He’s rubbing your back so soothingly that you find comfort in his embrace, your mind confused in what is happening and how he could change so fast. “you aren’t in any trouble.”

Jungkook holds you like that until he feels your heart beat against his soften. He leans away, offering you a soft and kind smile that he didn’t display when he pulled you over. You swallow, licking your chapped lips. 

“Let me take you home.” Jungkook murmurs. A hand places itself onto your cheek and his thumb rubs across the tear stains. “We’ll come get your car tomorrow, okay?”

You don’t fight Jungkook as he tugs you towards his police cruiser. He opens the passenger door and allows you in before closing it. He gets into his side and gives you another glance. He takes his job seriously - especially when it comes to you. It was always his responsibility to protect you.

@minshookie29 @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @crisle19 @whothefuckisthishoe @mar-lo-pap

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

operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru

synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.

contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably

notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P

The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.

Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.

“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.

“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.

“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”

“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”

You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”

“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”

You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”

He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”

“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”

He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”

You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.

His glasses are tilted again. Of course.

You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”

“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”

You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”

“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look. 

“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”

You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”

It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.

He doesn’t say anything.

You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.

But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.

Another type. That’s not you.

“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”

He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”

“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”

He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that… a thing?”

“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”

He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.

You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.

But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.

So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”

He goes still.

His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.

“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”

His jaw tightens.

You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering. Curiosity. Science.”

He finally turns to look at you.

His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.

You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.

Then he shrugs.

“…Nah.”

It slices through the air with quiet finality.

Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.

You laugh. It sounds forced.

“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”

He’s silent.

You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.

“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.

And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue. 

You knew it was time. Ten years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.

It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.

You’d been doomed since day one.

And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.

But you were young. And hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”

You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”

“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”

You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”

“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”

Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.

Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”

You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”

Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”

She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”

You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”

Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”

You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”

Utahime grinned.

“Whatcha doing?” 

Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.

You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”

The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.

He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”

You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.

“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.

You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”

His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring DJ and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”

“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”

“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”

Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.

“Satoru!”

“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just… optimizing.”

Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”

“Nothing~”

You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.

“Give it back!”

“Patience.”

“Gojo Satoru—”

“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.

You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.

“…What did you do?”

“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious.

“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”

“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just… considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”

“Good.”

The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”

You snort. “You are a guy.”

“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”

You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”

“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.

You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.

“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”

Silence.

It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.

Gojo freezes.

You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”

But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”

You blink.

And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.

“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”

You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.

You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.

Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.

You want to scream.

Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?

Yeah. Not going great.

Not at all.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.

Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes—determined, dangerous, hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she wouldn’t let you walk out of her apartment looking like a clown. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”

You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.

But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked… beautiful.

When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing the edge of your coat. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.

He didn’t notice you at first.

Then he looked up.

His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.

“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”

You blinked. “Hi to you too.”

He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.

He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”

You blinked.

Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.

And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.

You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”

“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”

Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.

But the moment passed.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”

Different.

Not better. Not prettier.

Just different.

You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.

“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.

In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines. 

What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.

He didn’t even notice.

“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.

He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”

Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”

Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”

It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.

Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”

Exactly. That was the point.

You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—

Satoru.

In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.

You blink. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”

“At this café? On this side of campus?”

“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”

“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”

“…Kazuya.”

“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”

But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”

Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”

“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”

Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”

“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”

Gojo beams. “Told you.”

Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.

“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”

“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”

You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”

Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”

“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”

Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.

“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”

“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.

“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.

By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.

Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,

“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”

The question hangs awkwardly.

You and Satoru answer at the same time.

“No,” you say quickly.

“Yes,” he says with a smile.

You both turn to stare at each other.

“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”

Kazuya blinks. “Right.”

You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.

“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.

Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”

You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.

Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.

Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.

You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”

“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”

“By who?”

“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.

“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”

You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.

“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.

“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.

You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”

He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”

You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.

You don’t answer.

You don’t have to.

Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel… bearable.

Almost good, even.

Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did… maybe it all meant something.

You let yourself believe it, just a little.

And that was your first mistake.

It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.

You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says—far too casually:

“So, guess who asked me out?”

You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”

“Ayane.”

The name hits you like a slap.

You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”

“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”

You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.

She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.

But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.

“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too—I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”

You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins. 

Your stomach sinks.

This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.

But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.

“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.

Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.

It’s that he chose her.

Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him—when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.

You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.

He doesn’t follow.

You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.

For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.

You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”

You go silent.

And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.

You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.

It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.

And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.

You weren’t just losing your best friend.

You were losing the love of your life.

And he didn’t even notice.

It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.

Well—no. That’s a lie.

He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”

But he tells himself you’re busy.

Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.

So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.

But then Friday comes.

And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—

You’d be making fun of me right now.

You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be… you.

Ayane is lovely.

But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.

She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.

He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.

Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.

And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.

He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.

No new messages.

Just the last one you sent days ago:

“Laundry. Rain check?”

And nothing since.

He waits. Another day. Then two.

You don’t show up to class again.

You don’t like his latest meme.

You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.

You are silent.

And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead—realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.

That he didn’t just lose a study partner.

He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.

And for the first time since he was a kid—

He’s afraid.

It’s been a little over a week.

A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.

And Satoru is suffering.

He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.

But you were always one step ahead.

You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a “you really fumbled the bag” look in her eyes.

Gojo Satoru is… just tired.

Miserable.

So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.

You don’t look surprised to see him. Just... tired too.

“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.

He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”

You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

Gojo looks down at his feet.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.

Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”

You glance up.

“I can’t either.”

Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment—God, I thought I was going to—”

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

The words stop him cold.

“What?” he breathes.

You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”

His heart stutters. You don’t stop.

“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”

He looks like he’s been hit.

“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”

You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.

And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.

Not yet.

Not until he stops you from walking away.

“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.

“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”

Your breath catches.

He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.

“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”

You gape.

“Wait—”

“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”

You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.

“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”

You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”

“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”

He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.

“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”

A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.

“You idiot,” you murmur.

“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”

Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.

“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

You stare at him—this man, this brilliant, ridiculous, loyal boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.

“It’s not too late,” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.

Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.

And then, finally, he kisses you.

It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home. Like every unanswered question finally getting its answer.

When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”

You laugh, heart full, forehead pressed to his.

“Mission failed,” you whisper.

He grins. “Good.”

And then he kisses you again.

art by leimiruu on x!

Hello, lovely !

If you're taking requests, i would like to ask if you could do something with a plot similar to Mulan ?

Maybe Yandere Colonel Jungkook is upset with reader being a male and is really mean to her, that is until he discovers that she took her brother's place to join the army.

I love your writting, you're amazing 🥰

Also feel free to ignore this if you don't like it.

Mulan - J. JK x Reader

A/N: I'm so sorry for dissapearing for like three weeks😭, i've been through a lot of bad things lately in my life but now i'm back. Tomorrow I'll post something on my Patreon! I haven't forget abt u guys.

Tags: yander-ish, period typical sexism, mulan au, enemies to lovers, mean Jungkook, smut.

3k words.

Permanent taglist | patreon.

You were the only children of the Liu Family, raised and trained to be the perfect bride to wed an honorable man who could bring grace and honor to your family. Your mother took very seriously her duty of turning you into the perfect wife that any man would desire. After all, in your village the sole purpose and worth of a woman is based on how desirable she is for men.

How boring. That’s why you wanted to be a boy so bad, they have way more fun than girls, and they could do and be anything they want without worrying how desirable they are for the opposite sex. When you realize how differently the world treats girls compared to boys, it’s when you knew you were doomed since your birth. Your fate consists in being owned by a high-ranking man if you’re lucky, trapped in a house to serve him, just like your mother. And you loved your dad with all your heart, but he was so controlling and possessive over your mother, treating her as if she isn’t capable of looking for herself.

He was a retired general because of his disability and age. People say that the men from the imperial army are ruthless and cold-blooded, but your father is none of that, he’s just protective of his family.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror chewing your bottom lip with anxiety sinking heavy in your stomach. Today you have to make a good impression on the matchmaker of the village so she could marry you off with a wealthy and honorable man.

This is why you trained all of your life, for this exact day to be perfect, to be chosen. You were so worried of fucking up this day, you just wanted to make your parents proud of you. They made a lot of sacrifices to raise you with comfort and love, the least you can do for them is being wed to a good man.

Easy peasy, isn’t it?

Well, it isn’t.

Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. And it was all your fault, no one else. You were so nervous and clumsy that you throwed by accident the potful of tea on the matchmaker, burning her skin. Her next words sank deep within you; You may be beautiful and look like the perfect bride, but you’re not! You are a disgrace to your family, you’re worthless!

And with those words being yell at you, she turned around leaving you with tears streaming from your eyes, humiliating you in front of the village people. Everyone leaved, except your mother. Her crestfallen and disappointed face was enough to break your heart.

You felt like a disgrace. But even though you weren’t the perfect bride and daughter, your father was there to comfort you, hugging you with love and telling you that everything will be okay.

But that didn’t happen, because the next day the imperial soldiers came to your village with dreadful news; the country was being attacked by the enemy, and the emperor ordered his soldiers to recruit one man from every family to serve in the army.

But you were the only child of your parents, and your father was too weak to fight in the army, he already did in the past, so there was no need to recruit him again when it will get him killed.

So, when the soldier read from the list your family’s last name, you stopped your father from stepping forward, looking at the soldier with pleading eyes; “Please don’t take my father, he already fought in the army honorably in the past. He’s too weak to fight now,” you begged with a trembling voice, but the soldier look down at you with contempt. “Silence woman! These matters are none of your concern, you better hold your tongue in a man’s presence,” he barked with anger at your audacity, but you didn’t care, you were too worried for your father’s wellbeing to care about your place.

But when you turned around and noticed your father’s embarrassed face, you shut your mouth up, not wanting to dishonor him any further. Watching with a clenching heart how he was listed to serve the emperor.

That night you bickered with him, begging him to not go to the army, but he lashed out at you, telling you to know your place as a woman. That broke your heart, and his face fell with regret immediately after. He never said such things to you before, but you supposed that’s what he really thought of you as a person.

But at midnight, you planned something; you will dress up as a man to take your father’s place in the army. You will not let him die pointlessly when there are plenty of young men that can fight for your country, and if that mean risking your own life to protect your father’s, so it be.

You sewed your father’s old military uniform to adjust it to your size, and then you wore it, looking at your reflection in the mirror with curled lips, tying your long hair in a manly bun, like the men of the army. You might be too skinny and short for a man, but with your father’s clothes you could pass as a young boy.

You hope they don’t bully you too much, men are very mean, even more with the weak ones, you will try to go unnoticed until you finish your duty.

You practice your “manly” voice a few times in front of your mirror, mimicking some of the mannerism that the boys from your village use. When you were satisfied enough with your cheap performance, you grabbed your things to get out of your home, glancing back at it for the last time with a clenching heart; you’re doing this for your father, because deep down you knew he always wanted a son to bring honor to the family, not a clumsy daughter that embarrassed him with the matchmaker, that’s why you will make it up for him.

You walked into the army camp drawing the attention of few of the men, but they looked away uninterested. Your back was straight and your steps long, you tried so hard to walk manly and nonchalant, you just hope you’re not making a fool of yourself and draw unnecessarily attention. When they listed you to join them in the training quarters, they barely glance at you, looking at your body with contempt and saying things like; “you need heavy training for that scrawny weak ass body.”

But you took no offense, feeling relieved that at least they didn’t notice you were a woman, otherwise you couldn’t imagine your punishment if they did, feeling a shiver running down your spine.

Your happiness was short-lived when you bump into a man so hard that you fell on your ass, you blushed by how handsome the man was; tall, buff, manly with a stern gaze and an intimidating aura, but his doe eyes made a contrast of his looks. It was a shame that the moment he opened his pretty lips the spell was broken.

“Watch where you’re walking or I’ll break your legs the next time you get an inch close to me,” he snarled at you with anger flashing his eyes. He took a silent look at you from head to toe, curling his lips with contempt and watching you now with a sneer. “What do we have here, did you already grow hair down there? Such a sissy boy shouldn’t be fighting along with men, but I guess the emperor must be desperate.” His mocking words made everyone else laugh at you, making you feel exposed and humiliated. Your worst fear came true, now you’re the target of dumb men thanks to this asshole.

“Why so curious about if I have hair in my balls, do you want to see? Is that it?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his widened eyes and the group of men erupting into laughs, they didn’t expect you to have a comeback. But you never were the type to back down in an argument.

“Silence!” Everyone shut their mouth up immediately after his violent and strident order, almost as if they were scared of him. You flinched a little at his murderous gaze, clenched jaw and flared nostrils. You felt like a prey about to getting killed by its predator. “Everyone is punished with 5 more hours of heavy training. You can thank your little new friend here. This clown better join a circus after the battle, if he survived of course, but we all know that won’t happen.” You felt dread sinking in your stomach at his mocking and cruel words, nauseous at the implication of dying.

He grinned like the devil when he noticed your fearful expression, walking away with a sneer, leaving you with a spiral of catastrophic thoughts.

But a question crossed your mind; who was him to order the other soldiers around?

“You’re so fucked up mate, you just got under the skin of our general. That man will eat you alive, I can’t even be mad at you when you’re the target of Jungkook. Good luck.” Some guy said to you with genuine pity written on his eyes.

Fucking amazing, that was what you needed; being the target of your superior. Good fucking job y/n.

But at least they believe you’re a man, not everything is bad, isn’t it?

Everything is in fact, very bad. It was a living hell for you everyday thanks to Jungkook, your general. He verbally abused you; mocking your weak appearance, calling you names like pussy and little princess, giving you more labor than the others, humiliating you each time he could in front of the other soldiers, making you the target of their laughers. He also gave you the worst duties like cleaning the bathrooms, dooming you to gag with disgust at how dirty men are. You were deprived of important information the others were given, making you feel lost and fail in your tasks and training, all thanks to that son of a bitch that’s obsessed with ruining your life. At this point you prefer to die in the battle rather than to endure another day with him.

You always cried every night, missing your mom and dad, feeling useless and hurt. You couldn’t bond with the group because they were too scared to talk to you and being the target of Jungkook’s wrath. You felt isolated and hurt.

It was a lot, you weren’t used to heavy training under the sun, physical labor and getting bullied from men. You were a spoiled girl that was always treated with care by your family and friends. But you were doing this for a greater cause. For your father.

You never showered with the other men, too scared of them finding out your secret. And of course, Jungkook noticed, mocking you about you being afraid that everyone will notice your lack of pubic hair and small dick.

But you didn’t let him get under your skin, that’s why one night you sneak away from the quarters to go to the nearest pond of water, taking with you a change of clothes and your chamomile shampoo. Your hair was matted and disgusting.

You took off your clothes, sinking your legs in the water, hugging yourself when the cold water embraced you, you sink down to wet your hair, closing your eyes in pleasure at the sweet aroma of your shampoo cleaning your greasy hair. You hummed watching the stars above you, feeling for the first time in a week completely relax and unbothered.

But you felt watched, that’s why you look at your surroundings with a frown, finding no one.

Until you heard steps, and your heart stops.

Jungkook was standing at the edge of the large pond, looking shocked, tense and furious all at once. You shriek covering your chest with your arms, and his heavy and dark gaze fell to it, clenching his jaw and fists.

“Why are you in the army?” he chastised, with genuine curiosity and anger flashing his dark eyes. His gaze was fixed on you, not looking away even once, and not blinking at all. That frightened you, making you sink until the water reached your neck.

“I’m doing this for my dad, he-he’s sick and too old to join the army, he already did in the past! I just don’t want him to die,” you blurted out with a trembling voice and pounding heart, averting your gaze towards your hands under the water, too scared to look into Jungkook’s eyes.

He said nothing for a couple of seconds, until you heard something heavy drop to the floor, widening your eyes when you noticed it was Jungkook’s clothes.

“What-“

“Do you mind if I get into the water? I haven’t showered either.” You saw the mischievousness flashing his predatory eyes. But you shook your head anyway, after all he was your superior and you can’t tell him to not wash in the pond. No one else besides him knows that you’re a woman, so you’re in a position of disadvantage right now.

 You turned around to give him privacy even though you knew deep down that that’s the last thing he want. You’re not an idiot, you can tell when a man’s gaze fills with lust, like a predator finding a good prey to devour. Sometimes, men can be very scary.

“This explains a lot, why you look so fragile, why you didn’t fit in at all, and why you’re so pretty for a man,” you heard him approaching you from behind. “You should be wed to a man, carrying his kids, making him good meals and warming his bed every night instead of wasting your beauty away. This is no place for a woman, but still, you’re here, aren’t you?” His voice dropped an octave, and you can feel him being inches away from your back, but you didn’t dare to turn back.

“Won’t you look at me pretty thing, are you scared?” his voice softens faking a concern tone. You felt him on your back, not touching but ghosting above your skin. His hot breath was closer to your ear, whispering something near to it; “I can help your daddy to not get punished for letting his daughter fight for him, believe me, that won’t look very good to the emperor.” His lips brushed your earlobe, and dread sink to your stomach at his sugar-coated threat. You were so fucked up, of all men it has to be Jungkook the one who finds out your secret.

You turned around with your eyes blurred by tears, he was mocking you and using your dad to take advantage of you.

“What do you want!? Leave my dad out of this, I came here willingly, he has nothing to do with my choice. If you and your emperor want to hurt and punish someone, that should be me and no one else,” you fumed with a single silent tear dropping from your eye, Jungkook wiped it away with his thumb.

“I won’t hurt a woman, I’m not that pathetic. It’s your father’s job to control his daughter and to make you learn your place, so he’ll bear his punishment.” Your stomach churned at his words, scared and worried of getting your dad hurt because of you. You knew Jungkook has power over you right know, but you can use the burning desire on his eyes to your advantage.

“Please, don’t hurt him, I’ll do anything,” you pleaded with a soft voice and watery eyes. You two were inches apart, and you noticed Jungkook inhaling sharp, affected by your words and doe eyes. His gaze darkened and flashed with desire.

He gripped tightly your waist, pulling your body against his, feeling your breasts brushing his skin. You felt aroused by his desperation, by his need and thirst for your body. You squirm into his grasp when he started to kiss and licked your neck slowly, like a starve dog devouring its food. His hands wander to your bottom, holding and lifting your body making you wrap your legs around his hips, feeling his hard cock brush your folds, making you whine. He growled at your sounds, tightening even more his grip on your body. His mouth devoured yours, kissing you with force and need, eating your lips like a starve man and drinking all of your sweet sounds, chasing your lips even when you broke the kiss. But then you cried in pain when he shoved slowly his cock into your folds, making you whimper and wrap your arms around his neck to ground yourself, feeling small under his dark and intense gaze.

His jaw was clenched and his face slightly scrunched up in pleasure, almost as if he was restraining himself from ramming into you sharply, and then when you tell him to move, it was like unleashing a beast, splitting you open and thrusting into you with force, making you sob into his neck, crying and holding onto him.

You came first, bearing the erratic and strong rolls of his hips against yours, ignoring your overstimulation until he came too, filling you up to the brim.

That night he took you to his private quarter, fucking you again in your sleep. You thought you were just being used for one night, but then when you wake up, you found yourself with the news that you were kicked off the army thanks to Jungkook revealing your identity. You were about to break down and feel used and betrayed, until he told you that you're going to be wed to him whether you like it or not. At least if you marry Jungkook your dad won’t be punished, but you’ll be his wife without your consent.

And as he said, you ended under his care, cooking meals for him, warming his bed every night, and carrying his children.

But at least your dad was safe? Not everything is bad, isn’t it?

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @deluluisdasolulu @uniquecutie-puffs @Marrylouise @livingformintyoongi @captainhoook @asillysimp @devilzliaison @zephyrdawn @kvstjwonnie @yoongilovescats @bammbi-jeon127 @jerdafuck @Holy_Hobi_water8

k e r o s e n e

⋆ TAGS — cheating, older!oc, oc’s a mommy (her hubby’s a hunk), obsessive!jk, blackmail, dead dove do not eat, non-con and dub-con (oc never says yes at all bc she’s coerced even if she "gives in"), dark, smutty smut, tit play, mentions of breast milk, protected sex and then unprotected sex (dw reader is secure n safe!), harassment bc jk does not take no for an answer, threats that oc lowkey gets hot n bothered by, exhibitionism but my way (SPOILER: someone gets fucked next to a sleeping body), some plot, slight(?) dirty talk, jealous!jk, jk is not a good guy at all, oc’s morals r questionable 2, open-ending, SOMEONE DIES sooo, office sex, angry(?) sex, drugging, meanie!jk, degradation, breeding kinks r mentioned, misogyny and objectification, possessive!jk

⋆ WORD COUNT — 15 k

I can live in your dreams, will you be my fantasy little baby? 

“Oh, it’s you.” You let a breath of relief from your lips, “Did you need something?” There’s a small pause and you end up averting your eyes. 

The tension is heavy and it has your stomach twisting in knots out of anticipation. Your eyes flicker over to him and you make eye contact in an instant. You stare into his eyes nervously as an all too familiar sensation of feeling like prey washed over you. 

“Always so cold,” Jungkook’s steps are calculated and slow, his dark gaze stays on you the entire time, “but for you though? I’ll take anything y/n.” He stops in front of your desk with a wicked little smile, “My bad–Mrs l/n.” He corrects himself. 

You bite your tongue as a twinge of annoyance passes over you, “Jungkook..” A soft sigh of frustration leaves you, “One of these days you’re going to get me in trouble if you keep calling me by my name, it makes people think..we’re close..” You murmur the last part to yourself while looking to the side, “ ‘s not something I feel like explaining to the dean either.” 

Jungkook draws closer to you, he slides his hand along the surface of the desk as his fingertips lightly graze the wood. Your eyes drop down nervously, you take a step back but he follows. You’re at the corner of the desk when he finally cages you in with one arm, “And why would you have to explain to the dean? Hm? What kinda stuff you got goin’ in your pretty little head?” He grins. 

He’s so close you’re practically inhaling his cologne, he smells undeniably good as you hold yourself back from breathing in more of his intoxicating scent. You jump when his fingers brush over yours, “Relax,” Jungkook laughs playfully, “you’re always so tense.” 

“Was there something you needed?” You finally breathe out after realizing that Jungkook wasn’t going to be paying attention to anything you’ve said up until now. Telling him to stop would be like letting him off with a slap on the wrist and you figured it was better to see what he wanted so you could get this entire interaction over and done with. “I have a few meetings to attend so my time is short.” 

A few beats of silence pass and Jungkook doesn’t say anything which makes it harder for you to figure out what he was feeling. “Do you now?” He hums, “But no, nothing much, I just needed help with the rubric.” 

You quickly retracted your hand from his and stepped away from the desk, “What part did you need help with?” You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, just itching for this entire interaction to be over. 

Jungkook beckons you over, “How am I gonna show you if you’re all the way over there?” He snorts, “C’mere, I won’t bite.” He breathily hums while he fishes out the papers from his bag. 

You wobble over on uneasy legs with your arms folded numbly over your chest. You’ve long tuned out Jungkook’s voice, the only thing you were acutely aware of was where his hands touched as he talked to you. You peered from the corner of your eye to watch as he stroked up and down your arm slowly. Occasionally he’d give you a small faint squeeze to the arm while his thumb rubbed circles over your goosebumps. 

“y/n?” Jungkook’s voice grounds you back to reality, you’re suddenly more aware of your surroundings—more aware of him. “You with me?” He appears out of the blue in your face, you flinch at the close proximity and turn your head. 

“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I, uh think you should be fine. You’ve never failed the other assignments before, so this should be no different.” You tug your arm from his hold, “Is there anything else before I go?” Despite slipping on your coat, Jungkook’s piercing gaze manages to make you feel like you’re naked. “Jungkook..?” You whisper. 

Jungkook tilts his head to the side as his hooded gaze racks over your covered form, “Mm,” he toys with his lip ring and bites his bottom lip, “nah, I think I got somethin’. I’ll see you around, Mrs l/n,” he coos softly while licking his lips. 

You’re left standing alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. 

+

I can be what you need, little baby. Just tell me what you need. 

You’re not sure when the obsession began, nor WHY it even existed. Had you possibly led him on? Did Jungkook get any mixed signals you might not have been aware you gave him? There were so many why’s but very little answers. 

Jungkook came from a very wealthy background (old money), his father was a famous business tycoon and Jungkook was set to inherit the family company in the future. Much like his father Jungkook lived up to the Jeon name. He was ambitious, intelligent, and cunning. If things weren’t going his way it was known that Jungkook would make it happen one way or another. 

What Jungkook wanted, he got. Thanks to daddy’s money of course. Despite this though Jungkook proved to be a highly intelligent individual. His exam scores over the years were proof. Even now Jungkook’s scores were at an all time high, he was the picture perfect example of a good student. The perfect role model if it weren’t for his rather unorthodox behavior. 

It began with little thank you notes attached to snacks, then small gifts like plushies and flowers. From the very beginning you had been wary of his gifts, you couldn’t decipher whether he was sending them platonically or romantically, but you being the absolute saint decided to give him the benefit of doubt. That alone would be your demise. 

What began as brief polite conversations slowly turned into lingering looks and wanton whispers of unspoken desires. 

You as his teacher knew better and tried to set things straight with him but each time you sat him down he’d give you those devilish eyes of his and leave you a sputtering puddle. What even was the point if Jungkook always managed to turn you into a mess with his cocky attitude?

You found yourself worrying about your job more often. Jungkook simply didn’t care about the ring you wore around your finger, it’s something he’d come to tell you many, many times. You partially blamed yourself for not being firmer with him, Jungkook was a brute who had no regards for your personal boundaries. It was evident in the way he cornered and handled you to his liking. 

Which is why you weren’t surprised with him anymore. 

“Comin’ to bed soon love?” You look up to see your husband propped up against the doorway with his arms folded over his bare chest. You’re tempted to look further down when you notice he’s wearing those damned sweatpants, the ones that hung low on his hips.

“Yeah, I have one more left and then I’m all yours.” You sleepily smile while blowing him a gentle kiss, “And Jae? Did he fall asleep already?” 

Jicheol brushes his wet hair from his face with one hand, “Out like a light, must’ve been real tired from today.” He comments, “Which reminds me of a certain someone’s bedtime.” He gives you a look that immediately has butterflies fluttering, “If you’re not in bed by eleven I’m comin’ in here and carrying your ass out. You’re warned.” He tosses you a little smirk over his shoulder before slipping away and shutting your office door. 

Your face flares up like a shy schoolgirl as you chew on your pen to distract yourself from the not so nice thoughts invading your brain. You notice the papers you’re holding belongs to Jungkook, you’re surprised he ended up at the bottom of the stack. You scratched your head in wonder and curiosity since you wanted to see what Jungkook wrote. With a lazy hum you lean back in your desk chair and begin reading. 

‘I can be your baby in real life, sugar,’

‘Look me in the eye tell me I'm the one,’ 

‘Can't you be my fantasy, little baby?’ 

Your heart begins to race and you swear you can hear your heartbeat hammering in your ears. Shock fills your entire being the more you read and the heat never leaves your face. You don’t know what to think or say, this by far was something you would have never guessed would happen to you. Not even in your wildest dreams, or nightmares. 

The icing on top was the fact that he had written within the essay requirements and had met each and every one of your expectations so technically the essay was valid and you couldn’t just toss it out. It was clear that he had thought it through, he went about his word play smartly and knew how to phrase his words just damn near perfect. 

So here you were now going through a crisis because your very hot student just said he wanted to bang you in different positions all night long. You felt like if this kept up with him you were going to be taking a paid or unpaid leave, it didn’t matter to you as long as you could take a break and get away from this all. Get away from him. 

“Babe?” Jicheol’s voice brings you out of your moment of hysteria, “It’s past eleven-ten come to bed now, yeah?” He strolls into your office, “Damn, that bad?” He says while eyeing the papers sitting in your hands. He goes to reach for them when you finally snap out of it and yank the papers back. “Uhh..okay, didn’t know it was THAT bad of an essay, now quit playing and come to bed.” He groans tiredly. 

You place a hand over your racing heart and sigh, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” You toss the essay onto the desk and lead your husband out by the arm, “Let’s just call it a night.” You mumble while hiding your face in his arm. Jicheol doesn’t mention anything else. 

.

“He went too far.” You whisper under your breath while turning away from the innocent papers sitting on your desk—innocent but oh so ominous.

Since reading it you’ve been on edge. You tried to avoid the topic of essays during a lecture but a sweet girl had asked and you were forced to talk about them. Jungkook had a (knowing) smirk the entire time as you informed the class that you indeed had finished reading and grading them. You hadn’t meant to but your eyes slowly gravitated towards him, your gazes met until you were the one who turned away with a flushed expression. 

A gentle but firm knock brings you out of your inner turmoil, “Who is it?” You softly call back while turning to the door with a hand over your chest. 

“Me,” Jungkook replies while already slipping into the room like he has many, many other times.  

Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, this was harder than you initially thought it would be. You’re not so sure this is even a good idea but you inhale deeply and close your eyes, “..I’m going to keep this very brief with you,” you step behind your desk while reaching for the essay lying on your desk, “the essay—why?” 

Jungkook grins softly, “What?” He shrugs innocently, “Didn’t like it? Was I a little too ‘vulgar’? Not somethin’ you’re used to people telling you?” His gaze alone is enough to make you feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes, unpleasant little shivers creep up your spine and you try not to let it show how nervous he’s making you. 

“Don’t–” You raise your hand with gritted teeth, “..There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and you’re crossing every one of them. I warned you time and time again about your..‘actions’ but you’re not taking me seriously.” You give him a pointed look trying your best to come off as stern. 

Jungkook lazily grins, “Oh but I am taking you seriously Mrs l/n,” the way your name rolls off his tongue shouldn’t make your stomach swoop the way it does, he takes a step closer and you backwards, “ ‘s why you’re my favorite teacher y/n.” 

Your patience finally snaps, “Let me make myself clear: these little games of yours? Stops today. I’m not entertaining you nor the stupid child’s play you have going on. If this keeps going I’ll report this to the dean and have you removed from class.” 

You try your best to stand tall and keep your gaze unwavering but Jungkook’s a challenge though. He stares back defiantly with his dark onyx eyes—they’re empty and void of any emotion (his tongue poking the inside of his cheek says it all though). “Really now?” He hums, “Let me know how that goes for you,” he chuckles under his breath while reaching over with a tattooed hand to play with the family picture lying on your desk, “Cute you even came up with that silly little idea.” 

“Excuse me?” You watch closely as he handles your picture frame so carelessly in his hands.

“Go on,” he nods his head as his lips curl in amusement, “run to the dean and tell ‘em allllll about how inappropriate I am. You have my essay as proof,” he licks his lips, “I wonder if they’ll think the same thing as me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, “pretty face..soft lips..” His gaze drops down before he’s meeting your eyes again, “Pretty everythin’.” 

You clear your throat, “Leave,” you point to the door, “I can’t have you in my class any longer. So leave, I’ll have this situation sorted with the dean by tonight so expect to receive a letter or email.” You hold your hand out for the picture frame, “Jungkook.” 

Jungkook tosses the frame up in the air a few times, each time making your heart skip a beat as you wait with a bated breath. “Okay.” He grins and places the frame in your hold, “There’s a tiny little problem though,” he mumbles and suddenly grips your hands tightly and squeezes. 

You gasp in surprise as he tugs you closer until you’re both leaning face to face. He’s so close you can smell his spicy scented cologne, the forced proximity begins to make you panic with fear. The only thing separating you two is the desk and nothing else—even then you have no doubt he’d just pull you over the surface if he wanted to. 

Your eyes flicker over his face a few times and you nervously lick your lips, “Let me go,” you’re not sure why you’re whispering when you could be yelling and screaming bloody murder right now. 

But you don’t. 

“Jungkook–” 

“You know,” he starts softly, “my dad always said if I wanted something then to take it. No one’s going to give you anything simply because you say please and thank you. You’re either at the top of the food chain or…the bottom. ” You make a wounded noise and turn your cheek to him as his hot breath fans over the side of your face, “and right now ‘m gonna take.” He mumbles, “And if I have to take a little walk down to the dean’s office and tell them that my beloved professor is making moves on me—I will.” 

Your eyes widen and his grip slowly loosens when you start going lax in his hold, “You wouldn’t want me to tell everyone their favorite teacher likes fucking her students? Maybe we can make it a little spicy and tell them how we’ve been having a three month affair? Hm?” 

“Y-You’re insane.” You yank yourself back from his hold in a rather harsh fashion. You cradle your sore wrists to your chest and stare back at him with glossy eyes, “None of that is true and you know it.” 

He barks out a laugh, “Oh baby,” he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye, “who said anything about truth? It’s a wonder what money can buy these days.” He hums, “ ‘s a reaaaalll shame my dad funds a few organizations here too don’t you think? Maybe my dad should have a loong phone call with the dean tonight, they’re pretty good friends after all. I’m sure they’d like to catch up.” 

You feel like your world is crashing down, he’s cornered you and now you’ve got no escape. You’re filled with hopelessness and despair, Jungkook’s got you right where he wants you. “C’mon don’t make that face,” you don’t notice when he comes to stand in front of you, “no one has to know..” He coos quietly while backing you up into the desk.

“Jungkook–” Your hand comes up to push his arm away when he sets it right next to you on the desk, he cages you in with his breath fanning over the side of your face because you refuse to look him in the eyes. His hand is so close to your thighs too it nearly has your heart jumping out of your throat. “Jungkook, please.” You whimper while turning your face as the two of you look into each other's eyes. 

His lips part but a knock brings the two of you out of your trances. He looks at the door in annoyance and clicks his tongue, “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters more to himself while refusing to move from his spot. “Mrs Gong?” You hear one of your students say, “I was um, wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about the essay.” She says softly. 

“Go on,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, “answer her.” He teasingly nips at you. 

You tremble under him and push at his chest repeatedly, “Y-Yes..! Give me a moment I’m finishing up with another student right now dear,” you yelp when Jungkook strokes over your inner thigh, slapping a hand over your lips for a few seconds, “... J-Just sit out there, I’ll come in a bit.” 

Jungkook chuckles quietly, and ignores the fierce glare you throw his way. “Let me go, Jungkook.” You attempt to slip away from the desk but Jungkook brings you back in with a hand curled around your waist, “Jungkook–” He silences your desperate pleas with a soft little ‘shh’ as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can’t do anything but helplessly stare back at him, angry at yourself for being so weak and caving in. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen baby, so listen carefully,” he softly whispers, “I’m going to leave you my phone number and you’re gonna answer me later on tonight—ah-ah, none of that now,” he says when he sees a protest bubbling up, “you’re gonna be a good girl and reply okay? I don’t give a fuck if your husband is there or not, if you don’t answer me baby I’m gonna be forced to do somethin’ ugly and we don’t want that now do we? No, that’s right.” He talks to you like he’s speaking to a child or something. “Got it all down?” 

You nod timidly and hold your tongue, “Good girl.” He smiles and lets you go, “Remember baby: answer.” He waves his phone in the air teasingly while stepping away. 

You watch him walk to the door, he stops briefly and your heart skips a beat wondering what he could want now. “And for the record—I meant every little word just now.” He smirks darkly before pushing the door open and stepping out. You’re left standing there in the middle of the room trying to calm your racing heart.  

“Mrs Gong?” The girl timidly calls out. 

Your eyes snap over to the picture frame sitting in your hands and you take a deep long breath, “Come in.” You just dug yourself a hole you can’t even get back out from. 

+ 

You looked out of your class window to see that the sky was beginning to set and it was a lovely shade of red-orange hues mixed with purple. You quickly glanced down at your watch and figured now would be a better time to leave. You shrugged your coat on and carried your things out the door. The janitor greeted you on your way out as you made your way down the dimly lit hallway. 

The campus was pretty lonely and empty save for a few people here and there. Your heels clicked against the pavement as you made your way down to the teachers parking lot. From a distance you heard another pair of footsteps but you paid no mind thinking it was probably another teacher or the security guard. Sometimes things were too good to be true. 

“Was beginning to wonder where my favorite teacher wandered off to.” Jungkook calls out from behind. He stands there with his hands in his pockets and a hand combing through his slightly messy hair. “Thought she might’ve run off for a second, we can’t have that happening now can we?” He hums. 

You let out a chilly breath and shake your head, “Been busy with work and life stuff..” Your eyes are lowered to the ground, you refuse to meet his eyes because you already know what’s staring back. “Did you need something?” You tilt your head. 

Jungkook toys with his lip ring and nods, “I’m guessing that’s why you requested days off for next week then hm? Husband takin’ you on a little trip, is that it?” He looks mildly bothered but the underlying possessiveness in his tone makes it easy to ignore. “Tell me baby,” he steps closer while caging you in between him and the car, “you trying to get away?” 

You look up at him through your lashes and shake your head, “Jungkook, we’re outside.” You squirm around uncomfortably, “Someone’s gonna see us..!”

“C’mere,” he curls his hands around your waist and tugs you into him, “we got some business of our own.” You nearly stumble when he begins walking you two away from your car, your eyes dart around the parking lot in panic as you attempt to budge yourself away from Jungkook. 

“Where are you taking me? Stop..! You realize how crazy this looks,” you turn your head in time to see a sleek black car come into view, no doubt it belonged to Jungkook though. “Why am I here Jungkook?” You pushed at his chest until he finally stumbled back a little. 

Jungkook gives you a playful smile, “Out, gonna give you a nice little send-off before you run off from me next week baby.” He reaches around you to unlock his car, “Get in, ‘s fuckin freezing out here.” When you came out the sky was still colorful, now it’s completely dark and the only thing around was the orange lighting from the several lamps in the parking lot. 

“Jungkook I’m not getting in the car with you,” you hopelessly look at him while pursing your lips in an attempt to suppress the oncoming whine, “I have things of my own to do, my husband is waiting for me.” You secretly relish in the way his eyes narrow when you mention ‘husband’, “Can’t all this wait for another day?” 

He props himself against the car, his gaze drops down to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands baby,” he leans down to whisper low in your ear, “we do this the easy way or something really bad can happen.” His lips slide along your cheek gently, placing a small trail of kisses to the corner of your mouth. 

You meet his eyes as a thick wave of tension falls over you both. He takes your silence as an answer and pecks your lips, “Get on then,” he murmurs. His car lights up in a fuschia pink color when he starts it, you feel small curled up in his leather seat. 

This is it. You’re really doing it. 

Your heart races even faster when you see Jungkook reach over to shift the gears, “Wait, Jungkook–” You slip your hand over his marveling in the size difference, “My car, I can’t leave it here.”

Jungkook lets the steering wheel go and for a minute you think he’s giving in, but ignorance is bliss. He tugs you in by a hand to the cheek, slotting his lips over yours as he uses his hold to keep you still. You sit there unresponsive in complete shock, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind as he occasionally tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth. He moves his lips languidly until wet little smacks begin to fill the quiet car. 

You reach over to push him off but he quickly snatches your wrist up in his hold, you barely even fight back as you end up falling into his touch even more. You make soft noises as tiny little moans spill into Jungkook’s hot mouth, your lips are glossed over and slicked up with spit from his kisses. 

Jungkook pulls away and pants hotly into your mouth, “You make it hard to control myself.” He quietly murmurs while pressing chaste kisses on you, “You have no idea,” he whispers, “those pretty little eyes and sweet lips drive me mad sweetheart. Fuck,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

Jungkook quickly shifts the car and begins pulling out of the parking lot. You end up hopelessly looking back at your car as it gets smaller and smaller the further he gets. To add more salt to the wound your phone buzzes loudly in your purse, you pause and Jungkook does too. “Answer it.” He says whilst slipping his hand over your knee, “C’mon baby, don’t keep him waiting.” 

Your eyes sting with unshed tears as your worst fears come true, Jicheol’s texting you asking if everything’s alright and if you’re coming home now. Your eyes slide over the words over and over again, you can’t bring yourself to reply to him it was too much. Eventually though (because of Jungkook’s piercing gaze) you manage to reply that you’re heading out for drinks with some colleagues. 

Jicheol replies with a ‘have fun, love u lots’ and something inside of you twists bitterly. “Tell him not to worry,” Jungkook turns to face you at a stop light, “me and you? We’re gonna have a nice loong conversation all night.” 

. 

“Relax pretty,” Jungkook mumbles behind you, “just sit back and let me do all the work.” His big hands settle over your hips using his grip to guide you towards the large bed sitting in the middle of the room. 

Originally (or so you’ve been told), Jungkook was planning on having a dinner date first before taking you back somewhere for some fun. But here you were, standing in the middle of a hotel room feeling like a cheap whore. Funnily enough Jungkook had picked out a couples suite too judging by the rose petals, candles and bottle of wine. 

You came to a stop in front of the bed, your hands were gripping the sash tying your coat together in an effort to stop Jungkook. Like everything else though, he took again and again.

His hands pried yours off and slipped the coat right off your shoulders, it pooled around your feet and you were left standing in your white blouse and black pencil skirt. You could feel his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck, sending pleasant little shivers down your spine. 

“Look at you,” he whistles low as his hands cup both of your tits through the blouse, “like a wet dream come true, you’d make any man fall to their knees baby.” He purrs while massaging both soft mounds, the stimulation has your tits aching and nipples hardening through the cups of your bra. 

A weak whimper slips past your lips, you reach up to grip his wrist tightly rather than attempt to pry him off. You stumble over your coat just trying to get away from him, “Jungkook—no,” you turn in time to see him advancing towards you like a predator. 

He licks his lips slowly as he reaches out to gently shove you onto the bed, “No what baby? I’ll treat you realll good, show you how you’re meant to be fucked stupid. I’d have you hangin’ from my cock in a heartbeat, ‘s all you’re good for baby: takin’ cock and bein’ filled with cum.” Jungkook climbs over and pins you on the bed, “Don’t need to use your pretty little head when you’re with me baby,” 

You cry out in surprise when he rips your blouse open and leaves a flurry of hot open mouthed kisses over your chest and peeking tits. “Fuckin’ hell,” he snarls and yanks the bra down, your tits come spilling out from the cups. He takes a hard nipple into his mouth and suckles gently, mimicking that of a hungry babe. 

“Oh,” your eyes squeeze shut as hot pleasure shoots all the way down between your legs where you need it the most. His tongue rolls and swipes over your nipple repeatedly, he hums low and sneaks his other hand up to cup your tit. You moan louder as Jungkook fondles the soft flesh in his hand and your nipple ends up rubbing against his palm. 

“You like that?” He rasps out and pulls away to give your other nipple the same treatment, “Got such slutty little tits for me, bet I can make ‘em leak for me.” A cheshire grin paints his lips as he deviously licks over your wet nipple, “We’ll just have to wait ‘n see, don’t we little mama?”

It feels like you’re in heaven right now just by having your tits played with. It wasn’t like Jicheol and you didn’t have an active sex life—nor was it boring by any means—but one thing that never quite went away was the sensitivity in your tits. Another thing you had discovered was that you still had some milk in there, if you played with them for long enough your tits leaked like crazy (Jicheol knew this firsthand). 

Your eyes flutter shut as more moans force themselves out of you, “Fuck–wait,” you whisper out while pushing his head away, “hurts a little…” You mumble while shivering from the cold air hitting your wet nipples. 

“Gonna taste that pussy of yours baby,” Jungkook reaches for the zipper to your skirt, “wonder if it’s as pretty as you.” He licks his lips hungrily, “Show me,” he pats your thighs and tugs the skirt down your legs. 

Jungkook moans when he sees the lace garter attached to your sheer black stockings, “God, look at you. You were made for me weren’t you baby?” He strokes over your legs and then pries them apart, settling nicely between your open legs. 

Jungkook tugs you close until your hips are pressed tight against his own, you can feel the print of his hard cock through his joggers. It feels hot and heavy, you’re already picturing how big his cock’s gotta be and the mere thought is enough to make your mouth water. As ashamed as you are to admit it, but you’re eager for him to fuck you. You want him to make good of his promises to fuck you all night in different positions until you can’t cum anymore. 

A wave of regret washes over, “Wait,” you sit up and cover your chest with one arm mentally preparing yourself. If you were going to cheat, then you were going to make sure you didn’t remember any of it, “pass me a glass of wine.” Your lips are pursed in a soft pout, gaze half-lidded and dreamy-like (a charm you used on Jicheol to get your way at times). 

“There you go sweetheart,” he reaches over for the entire bottle and pops it open, “let yourself go for me.” He purrs and brings the wine directly to your lips. 

.

You become hyper aware of everything around—the rain that hits outside the fogged-up windows, the faint crackling noise from the candles, and the shuffling noises from the bed. How much time has passed since you both got here?

“Oh fuck..” You hear Jungkook breathily mutter under his breath, he continues to fuck his cock in and out of your soaked and sopping pussy without abandon. The lube ends up dripping from your folds and slides down the crevices of your cum splattered cheeks.

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve cum, your clit’s numb and rubbed raw by now. An array of used condoms litter the trashcan nearby and by the looks of it the box might be empty after this round. Surely he’ll stop there…right? 

“Hear that?” He grunts with effort as he smacks his hips into yours, “Sloppy pussy drippin’ all over me, ‘s like you were made for me, made to take cock ‘n be my lil’ cock sleeve.” He purrs low and lowers himself until he’s hovering over you. His strong hand comes up to grip your thigh, he wraps it around his waist and holds you close while he fucks into your greedy pussy over and over again. 

Your face heats in embarrassment as the squelching and slapping noises get louder, you manage to bite your bottom lip and suppress the cries and whines that threaten to slip out. Everything about this is so good, from the way he fucks down to his heavenly cock that Jungkook sure as hell knew how to use, but you rather die than admit your enjoyment openly. 

“Shit.” Jungkook looks like a wet dream come true as his head hangs low in pleasure and his necklace swings back and forth from the force of his thrusts. 

You’re scrambling to find a grip on him, your hands curl around his shoulders and hold on for dear life. Your once quiet sighs become louder mewls and moans, little breathy “uhs” leaving your lips. The louder you get the harder he goes, he’s driving his cock deep inside with such force you wonder if you’ll be able to walk after this. 

With each punishing slap he lands there’s a sweet little sting that follows afterwards. A particular thrust startles you bad when he brushes up against your g-spot. You find yourself leaning into him, thighs widening around his waist as you angle your hips in a way you know his cock will hit the spot. 

“Mm–wait, ‘s good there,” you breathe out, “fuck..right there…” Your words are slurred and come out borderline pornographic reminding you of a porno or something. 

Jungkook doesn’t reply anything other than a grunt, he reaches down to hook your thighs over his shoulders. He’s pressed so close his chest is rubbing up against your sore tits each time he lands another thrust. You’re finally letting your moans slip as the volume begins steadily increasing inside the room. The noises you both make rival those of the creaking and skin slapping. 

“My name baby,” Jungkook whispers over your lips, “let ‘em know who’s fuckin’ this pussy.” The crazed look he has in his eye paired with his wild thrusting has your orgasm slowly ebbing away at you again. 

You don’t like how close he is, how exposed you’re feeling from the forced face to face proximity he has you in. The hunger in his eyes has your cunt clenching around him like you’re afraid he’s gonna stop fucking you. Jungkook lets out a low moan and reaches up with one hand to squeeze your chin tightly, “C’mon, don’t go all stupid on me,” he licks his lips. 

“Jungkook,” you softly moan as your lips part in a tiny ‘o’ from the grip he has on your chin/cheeks, “mmph—’m coming..!” You grit your teeth and arch your back just a tiny bit given that Jungkook’s got you in a mating press. 

Jungkook lets your face go and does the unexpected, he lands a hard slap on your ass before he’s rubbing the sore skin gently, “Louder.” He lands another smack, this one hurting more than the one before.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out with watery eyes. 

“Again.” Smack.

You manage to whimper out a half-garbled cry of his name, your pussy rhythmically throbs around his cock in a milking motion. There’s a nasty sound each time he bottoms out balls deep inside, your thighs shake and tremble from their spot on his shoulders. You’re left with a dazed cloudy feeling afterwards—nipples sore and your pussy wet as hell. 

“Mmm,” you bite your lip and turn your face away in dizziness, “s..leepy..” 

Jungkook doesn’t stop fucking you even if you sleepily beg him to stop. He pumps away at your spent cunt until he’s coming with a low groan of your name and a throbbing cock. You let out a sleepy sigh as your eyes begin slipping shut, you feel Jungkook gently tap your chin to get you awake again, “Open up for me baby, we’re not done here.” He hums low. 

+

You woke up early in the morning after barely managing to catch any sleep. Jungkook had his face tucked in the crook of your neck and his arms tightly wrapped around your body. Your back was pressed against his chest where his necklace tickled the back of your neck. His hands were folded over your middle, grip tight and snug. You were beginning to wonder how the hell you were getting out. 

“Fuck my head hurts,” you whisper out while lifting your head to survey your surroundings. 

Clothes, shoes, bags—they were tossed everywhere. The sheets were sliding off the bed and the comforter was completely off hanging to the side. You spotted the empty glass of wine and two cups sitting together on the nightstand next to the candles, bitterly reminding you of the night before. 

“I need to get out of here.” You whisper while tightly wrapping the white sheets around your body. 

You don’t know how but you somehow manage to untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms and slip off the bed. Jungkook’s still sleeping so you use this as a chance to dress and leave quickly. You’re not too sure if you’ll be leaving anytime soon if Jungkook wakes up. 

“Shit.” You frown when you see all the messages Jicheol sent you (there were a ton of missed calls too). 

jicheoooll<3 : babe r u ok? 

9:23

don’t get too wasted, call if you need me to come

9:35

having fun?? 

10:00

you staying with friends tonight babe? pretty late alr

10:57

gn, call me in the morning beautiful 

Once you manage to get dressed and call a taxi, you put all your attention to replying with a made-up story in your head. The guilt is eating you alive but you can worry about feeling like a shitty person later, right now you need to get away.

The cold air hits you in your face when you step out of the warm building, people are going about their days and cars are moving steadily through traffic. You hear a beep and you see your taxi parked on the side of the road. For now you can forget and you’ll worry about Jungkook later, you think to yourself while slipping into the warm car. 

.

Your heart begins pounding at the sight of Jicheol’s car which is still parked out in front when you come home. You check the time on your watch and numbly realize he must’ve called in, the guilt feels ten times worse. With a heavy sigh you park the car in the driveway and slip out with your things and coat in hand. You were going to have to face him and your son one way or another, no use in crying over it now. 

“What’s done is done.” You find yourself thinking out loud while heading up the steps. Your key is halfway in when the door suddenly opens and the warm air from inside hits you in the face. You’re momentarily stunned as you stand there with your hand still hovering in the air, “Jicheol.” 

Your husband lets out a breath of relief as his big hands come up to cup your face inspecting for any injuries etc, “You’re okay,” he says in obvious relief, “did you have fun last night?” 

“Yeah..” You whisper back, “Think ‘m gonna shower though, I stink.” You complain softly while heading inside rather quickly in an attempt to avoid Jicheol because you don’t know whether you want to cry or scream at your own guilt, “How’s Jae?” You were hoping to slip away to the bathroom before Jicheol could catch up but he’s hot on your tail after shutting the front door. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bitterly think while turning the hot water on. 

“He’s fine, your mom came and picked him up last night. He’s gonna stay over for the weekend.” Jicheol slips his hands around your waist and gently guides you into the spacious bathroom, “Wanted to be here when you came,” he mumbles in your ear while kissing over your neck and shoulder, “missed you last night.” His hands slowly unbuttoned your messy blouse, “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout your fine ass, should’ve never let you walk out the house like that.” He huskily says. 

Normally you’d shudder in anticipation and delight but right now the guilt is eating away at you. Your eyes slip shut in an attempt to focus and steer your mind away from what happened last night but god Jicheol’s making it hard. No matter how much you try to think about something else, your traitorous mind finds a way to flash images of Jungkook ripping your top open and sucking your nipples till they were sore and leaky. 

“Got such slutty little tits for me, bet I can make ‘em leak for me.”

A breathy little ‘yes’ falls from your lips when the pair of hands massaging your tits slip under the cups and knead your sore mounds of flesh. Jicheol rolls your nipples between his fingers knowingly, tugging just the way he knows you like. “So fuckin’ needy.” Jicheol chuckles darkly. You lose yourself in the feeling as moans and sighs fall, the heat from the water running isn’t helping much either. 

Your eyes slip open and a noise of confusion leaves you when Jicheol stops to tilt your chin towards him. Everything shifts back into place and you’re suddenly aware of everything around you—the running water, the steam, Jicheol—you try to ignore the disappointed feeling you get in your chest (you're scandalized that you’re feeling disappointed to begin with). 

“You okay baby?” Jicheol looks worried, “Want me to stop?” 

“No,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug him closer to you. Jicheol stares at you through half-lidded eyes, licking his lips hungrily when you bring his face down. Your lips hover over his, “I missed you too.” You whisper quietly before closing the distance between you two. 

Jicheol releases a muffled groan and slips his hand down to grip your hips tightly, you sigh blissfully when you press up against his front. You can feel the outline of his cock pressing against your lower stomach, sitting there throbbing from its confinements. He mutters a husky “fuck” and lifts you up onto the countertop with your back pressing against the foggy mirror. 

Jicheol always makes you forget. 

+

You ended up pulling Jungkook aside after a lecture sometime later on during the week. You spend the entirety of your mini-vacation at home sulking in discomfort anytime you think about what happened with Jungkook, and Jicheol wasn’t making it any easier with his sweet self. It was driving you insane and you felt like you needed to talk about it to feel a little better about your shitty actions. 

Jungkook already has a sly little grin on his face when he slips into your office, “Why the pouty little face? You’re the one who called me here,” he folds his arms over his chest as he stands in front of you with amusement written all over his features. 

You meet his eyes hesitantly and take a few seconds to gather your thoughts, “Now that you got what you wanted, can we both mutually agree this little thing of yours is over?” What’s scarier than Jungkook’s anger is his silence. It was like trouble was brewing in your face and you didn’t know how to stop or control it. “Don’t look at me like that Jungkook, you knew what was coming. I’m married for fucks sake,” you whisper to him, eyes darting back and forth between him and the door.

“Our thing.” Jungkook loudly corrects making you turn your head in alarm, “last I remember it takes two to tango baby, ‘n you sure as hell didn’t seem done when I fucked you all night long. Or did you forget?” He tilts his head to follow your gaze when you begin avoiding his eyes, “Hm? C’mon sweetheart, tell me how much you enjoyed it—how your little pussy was so good to me and soaked my cock?” He cages you in and yanks your chin up to face him, “C’mon, say it.”

You let out a terrified whimper and try to push him away but Jungkook pins you up against him, “Jungkook–let go,” you turn your face away trying to look away, “get off..!” 

“Oh but you loved it baby,” he coos out while watching you fight against him like a child throwing a tantrum, “ ‘s why you gave it up to me so easily,” he pouts mockingly, “rode ‘n fucked me like the little fiend you are sweetheart.” He rasps hotly in your ear, “Gripped my cock nice ‘n tight with that soaked cun—” 

You moaned wantonly as he wrapped his lips around a sensitive spot on your neck, through your panic though you began pushing at his shoulders to stop him from leaving a mark, “J-Jungkook, no,” you bite down on your lip with a muffled moan, “fuck—just listen to me dammit!” You grip his face in both hands, “There are rules and boundaries Jungkook, you can’t just fucking waltz in here doing shit because you feel like it alright?! My job, my reputation, my LIFE is on the line and you’re more concerned with getting your dick wet? Do you just not care that my life can potentially—no—be ruined, all because you’re a rich brat who wanted pussy?” 

Jungkook recovers from the initial shock when you snapped at him, he cups your face and slams his lips against yours. You pant hotly into his mouth while he spins you both around and guides you onto the desk, papers and pens go flying as Jungkook comes to stand between your parted legs. You’re forced to let him in as he moves his slicked up lips desperately, he kisses with such ferocity it knocks the breath out of you. 

“Mmph—Jungkook,” you whisper between harsh breaths and kisses, “stop.” You gasp out as he buries his face in your neck and leaves more filthy opened mouthed kisses. 

He pulls away with a soft pant, “You don’t want me to, trust me,” he tilts your chin again so you’re facing him, “I’ll make your life a living hell in point two seconds baby, don’t test me. Unless you want everyone to see how much of a cock slut in bed you are, is that it baby? You want them to see how pretty you look when you’re hanging off this cock? Because I can make it happen.” He darkly whispers. 

A sick part of you shivers at the threat when he talks to you in that low tone he uses when he’s angry. Your pussy has a second little heartbeat down there because of him, you can’t even say you’re ashamed anymore. You silently stare because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of replying. Jungkook doesn’t need to hear it though because he’s already leaning in to kiss you more gently than before. 

“Don’t need to think,” Jungkook mumbles, “just sit ‘n look pretty for me sweetheart, ‘s all you need to do.” He trails off as his hands slip up your skirt, hooking his fingers around your panties and tugging. They come sliding down to your ankles while Jungkook works his belt open, “Gonna give you what you need,” he trails off. 

Your lust filled eyes meet him in a fierce stare down, not once do you look away as he spreads you open and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You hate how easy it is to submit and fall under his control. You were supposed to be the one with authority here, not him. Funny how he turned you putty in his hands each time. 

Jungkook fists his cock with slick noises, he’s pushing through your slicked up folds and you feel the head poke at your unclenched leaking hole. There’s a filthy little voice in the back of your head that hisses in excitement chanting a series of ‘yes’ and ‘in’ over and over again. Your cunt’s hungry and desperate to be stretched out by his fat cock.  

“.. Just shut up and fuck me.” You find yourself whispering while wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him closer.

Jungkook forgoes the condom entirely, he taps his cock over your pussy a few times before he’s pushing in with a low hiss. He fills you up inch by inch, everything feels so much better with him going in bare. Your mouth waters at every little bump and curve you feel, your pussy opens right up and molds to fit around him.

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as Jungkook bottoms out in your tight little sopping hole, your rim stretches and hugs his cock nice and snug. It’s a tight fit but you’re in utter bliss right now, and even if you wanted to complain at the small sting you feel when he shifts but you don’t bother to. Jungkook’s not going to listen anyways, he never has. 

“There you go,” Jungkook bites on his bottom lip, he keeps you steady with his hands curled around your waist, “open right up for me baby.” He breathes out. 

His hips slowly roll forwards, he idly grinds and bumps his hips against yours. You feel some pressure here and there, like your poor pussy’s going to burst but each time he moves you feel him hit a sensitive spot. Your hips jump when the tip nudges into your cervix, just poking like he’s testing the waters or something. 

“Jungkook–” you huff, “slow down, hurts.” You try shifting around to see if you’re able to steer his cock away from your cervix. 

Jungkook lays a soft apologetic kiss over your shoulder before he’s hoisting you closer, he has your hips tilted at an angle where he’s striking dead on into your oversensitive walls. You moan in relief, biting down on your lip to keep your noises in. You nearly forget that you’re both still on campus, fucking on your desk like it’s some cliche porno. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, he hooks his chin over your shoulder and fucks into you. His hips roll into yours over and over again, slipping in and out of your drenched pussy with ease. You can faintly hear the wet noises start up wondering if your desk will be salvageable by the end of this. 

You find yourself holding on to him tightly with your arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders. Your moans threaten to spill out each time he fucks himself in, the tip keeps grazing over a sweet spot repeatedly sending pleasant little shivers down your spine each time. Jungkook doesn’t stick to that languid pace for much, he ends up bucking his hips eagerly and shoving his cock deeper. 

“Oh fuck,” he rasps out while hugging your body tighter, “c’mon, make some noise for me baby. Let ‘em know who’s fucking this greedy cunt.” He grits his teeth and slaps his hips into yours with a loud squelching ‘plap’.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” as if on cue your pussy makes another embarassingly loud squelching noise. You’re so fucking wet it’s slipping down between your asscheeks and pooling under you. “And these tits,” he groans and slaps one through your blouse, “such pretty fuckin’ tits on you, wonder how they look all swollen and filled. Maybe I’ll breed this cunt till you catch, it’ll make a nice little surprise for your husband.” He grins wildly. 

You whine loud—it’s unintentional (you’d like to think)—the very thought of possibly ending up pregnant sends a sick thrill down your spine. You find letting cries and whimpers slip from your lips, they’re louder and clearer than before. Jungkook smirks knowingly and you know what he’s about to say, but he simply lays you back on the desk and lifts your legs over his shoulders. The angle changes again and your mouth falls open. 

“There..!” You throw your head back and groan. 

His cock repeatedly punches into your g-spot, you scramble to get a hold of something to keep you grounded. You feel like you’re going crazy with him hammering away at your sore cunt and your impending orgasm bubbling in your lower stomach. Jungkook’s face hovers close and you can feel his hot breaths fanning over you. 

“There?” He moans, “Like it when I fuck you stupid huh? Pretty pussy all meant to be mine,” he slows down but keeps his pace brutal, “gonna fill you up baby, you’re lucky I can’t put a baby in you.. Or else.” He darkly mumbles while leaning down to swallow up all your moans and sighs. 

Your eyes flutter shut from the strong pleasure, he knocks the breath out of you each time he bottoms out. Your clit throbs pathetically from neglect and you desperately want to reach down to soothe it but Jungkook’s pounding you so good you can’t focus. Your lips part with a needy cry, he uses it as a chance to bite on your bottom lip and swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips. 

“C..um, ‘m gonna cum,” you softly whimper while arching into him, “please ‘m so close.” 

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, he quickly falls into you and rolls his hips into yours over and over again. You trap him against you but Jungkook figures out a way to keep moving. Jungkook grinds into you slowly, letting you feel every inch and the girth. This makes your mouth fall open as a shudder runs through your body. 

“Fuck..” You begin shaking from pleasure, your arms slip from his shoulders but Jungkook simply hoists you upright into his strong big arms. 

You’re caged against his chest while he slowly fucks in and out, you’re so close you just need a tiny little push. If Jungkook could just hit that spot one more time—ohh.. “Jungkook,” you feel a strong tremor pass over you. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, rhythmically clenching and massaging him as you cum all over him and yourself. 

Jungkook doesn’t let up no matter how tight you get, he’s groaning and hissing under his breath while whispering the most filthiest fucking praises, “There you go baby, jus’ like that. Go on and make a mess for me, want you dripping my cum out of that loose cunt of yours.”

He cums a few minutes later with a loud moan, you like the feeling of his throbbing cock buried deep inside as he unloads all his pearly white cum into you. You squirm around a few more times but Jungkook ultimately ends up gripping your hip to stop you, “Shit–don’t do that.” He moans painfully. 

The two of you pant quietly while trying to catch your breaths. It turns into a slow little make out session you can’t refuse or resist because he’s that sexy post orgasm glow. You’re lips-locked when a knock brings the two of you out of whatever world you were both just in. 

You pull back from his lips with a wet noise, panting hard as you try to catch your breath from the brutal fuck just now. “Mrs Gong?” You hear one of your students say. 

Jungkook’s still hazy from his orgasm (evident in the way he looks at you all blissed out), he tucks his face in the crook of your neck and quietly moans when you clench around his half-hard cock. He doesn’t say anything thankfully, “I’ll be right out,” you finally manage to say without sounding like you just ran a marathon. 

This boy was going to be the death of you. 

+

jungkook : get ready, gonna take you out. wear somethin pretty too

You frown in both annoyance and confusion, when and how did Jungkook get your address? “I don’t even wanna know.” You mumble while shaking your head, with Jungkook there’s no limits to his depravity. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone paid to get your information. 

You look over at the bedroom door and make sure it’s closed before you sneak to your closet and dial Jungkook, “What the hell do you mean we’re going out?” You mutter while balancing the phone on your shoulder, “I don’t remember little dates being a part of this arrangement.” 

“The tongue you got on you,” Jungkook says from the other line, “makes me wonder if I need to stuff it with somethin’ else damn baby. But we’ll save that for another day, today I wanna take you somewhere nice,” 

You pulled a sweater from a hanger and paused, “Jungkook what’s the dress code?” You sigh in exasperation, all this talking and he still wasn’t telling you anything. You figured you might as well make the best of it, “Hurry up I still have to call my nanny to come take care of my son, I don’t have all day.” 

“Casual, not too casual though. I’ll see you in five.” And with that he hangs up. 

“Great,” you sigh while tossing your phone on the bed after shooting the nanny a quick text, “I’ll see you in five, my ass,” you mimic while finding something nice to wear. 

The door creaks open and your son Jae comes running in making excited airplane noises, “Where you goin’ mama?” He tilts his head, “Are you going to see aunties for lunch? Ooh, can I come, can I come?” He buzzes in excitement while smiling from ear to ear. 

“No baby, mama’s meeting a different friend, a work friend.” You gently correct yourself while surfing through your jeans, “Wanna help me choose an outfit,” you squat to Jae’s level and brush his unruly hair out of his face, “looks like I’m gonna need your eyes for this Jae.” 

His eyes widened comically, “Mama but you have your own!” He gasps while covering his face with his tiny hands, “These are my eyes!” He squeals while running out of the room. 

You grin deviously and chase after him with a “come back here”. The house is filled with your giggles and Jae’s excited yells and laughter, you end up chasing Jae back to your room as the little boy hides himself under the blankets. 

“C’mon, mama wants to look pretty today won’t you help me baby?” You pout while sitting on the bed, “Pretty please with sprinkles and fairies on top?” 

Jae pops his head out with a dramatic little sigh, “Fiinee,” you grin triumphantly, “I’m gonna make you look prettier than any other lady out there today.” He smiles toothlessly and runs into your closet. 

You end up wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and your cream colored sweatshirt. Jae didn’t know anything about shoes so you slipped on your cozy socks and a pair of brown tasman slippers. Upon Jae’s insistence you applied a little mascara and clear gloss over your lips, “There, is mommy done now?” You ask while spraying some body spray he was holding out to you. 

“Done, you look so pretty.” Jae shyly says while hiding his face in your leg, “Is Miss Danielle coming today? I like her a lot, she’s super cool and nice.” 

You hum absent-mindedly while putting your phone and wallet in your purse, “Yes she is, mama needs you to be the bestest boy ever okay? I’ll be back around dinner time when daddy’s coming home okay?” You smile sadly, “I’m gonna miss you.” 

“Me too,” Jae softly says before the doorbell brings him out of his trance, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” He runs off leaving you to your devices. 

“That boy.” You shake your head and slip your watch on. You can hear Jae talking with Danielle down in the foyer as you finish getting ready. 

Your phone pings and you immediately know who it is, “Danielle,” you greet while passing the girl in a hurry, “thanks for coming last minute you’re a lifesaver.” You sigh in appreciation, “House is yours and if you’re hungry order some delivery for you and Jae okay? I’ll pay you extra if I take too long. If my husband comes home first then you’re free to go.” 

Danielle already has Jae in her arms as she smiles sweetly at you, “No problem, you know I like Jae a lot anyways.” She shrugs, “Have fun.” 

“Oh I will.” You bitterly mutter, “Bye my loves.” You blow a kiss to your son at the door and head out. Jungkook’s Mercedes is parked right in front of your house and you done nearly sprint over in fear. Your heart quite literally almost falls out of your ass. 

“Are you fucking insane?” You spit while slipping into the car, “Jungkook move, oh you just finally fucking lost it didn’t you? Anyone can see you—my neighbors, my son, the nanny!” 

Jungkook laughs quietly and brings you in for a messy smooch, “Calm down, we’re leaving right now.” 

“No, right now.” You glare, “Move.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your lips in obvious hunger, “Give me a kiss.” You look at him in disbelief and he merely shrugs, “What? You heard me.” He’s really not playing around because he doesn’t budge or make a move to shift gears or anything. 

You nervously look around the area before leaning over to quickly kiss him, “There.” 

“Another one.” He calmly replies despite your whining and the face you make. He’s serious then, you think while curling a hand behind the back of his neck and pulling his face closer to yours. 

Your lips meet in a hot kiss, you find yourself putting a little more effort into it than most times he’s kissed you. Jungkook’s a good kisser you won’t lie/deny, if anything you felt shittier for admitting that you enjoyed kisses with him. You gently bite down on his bottom lip in a mix of arousal and curiosity. 

Jungkook lets out a quiet groan and leans more into it to deepen the kiss. “No more,” you whisper when you pull away to catch your breath, “I’m serious.” You softly say albeit a bit more gentle and less hostile. 

“Okay.” He pulls away and starts the car. His hand comes over to settle on your thigh, fitting so easily like you were made for him. 

You slump in your seat and turn your head to watch your home slowly disappear as Jungkook pulls out of the neighborhood. If you look closely though, you won’t miss the awe-struck looking nanny standing there looking from the living room window. 

“Are you okay? What are you looking at?” Jae asks. 

“Nothing,” Danielle mumbles as she shakes her head, “let’s watch tv yeah?” There’s no way she just caught her boss kissing someone who was obviously not her husband. 

.

“How was your day?” You find yourself looking up from the bowl of chips you’re having when Jicheol suddenly talks to you, “Dani told me you had a last minute meeting with a coworker?” He hums while unbuttoning his dress shirt slowly, “y/n?” 

Your focus shifts back onto Jicheol after momentarily spacing out, “It was good,” you mumble and try not to think about earlier when Jungkook was buried balls deep fucking you over the hood of the car, “Had some lunch and then we went for like a nature walk..of some sorts.” You trail off dumbly. 

Jicheol raises a brow, “Some sorts..?” He tilts his head with confusion written all over his face. 

“Fuck, Jungkook!” 

“Right there..!” 

“Mmmh..yes,”

“Com–coming!” 

You freeze mid-chip and peer over at your husband, “Yeah..some sort,” you crack a tiny smile to break the tension, “that’s not important though,” you set the bowl off to the side somewhere, “how was your day?” You smile prettily. 

Jicheol (thankfully) takes the bait, he has a smile painted over his handsome face, “Boring, I had a few meetings here and there and then some paperwork to file.” He sighs heavily and falls dramatically on the bed next to you, “You busy tomorrow?” He quietly asks while poking your side. 

“Depends,” you softly whisper and lean down to press gentle kisses over his lips, “what are we doing?” You blow against his lips gently, cracking a smile when Jicheol hooks a hand around the back of your neck, “Hm?” 

Jicheol doesn’t reply and instead brushes his lips over yours, “C’mere,” he quietly murmurs, “on my lap sweetheart.” You can feel his big hands over the small of your back, he guides you over so that you straddle him. 

You bite your lip and watch Jicheol closely, the excitement builds up quickly because something about your husband drove you wild. Jicheol didn’t even have to try to get you in the mood, god bless for fine men like himself. You lean down to attach your lips to his rather eagerly, if you both could just skip the foreplay—

“Babe,” Jicheol pauses when your phone begins to ring loudly. You let out a deep sigh and hesitantly pull away from him looking mildly annoyed. His sharp eyes stay on you while you reach around for your phone and check who it is. “Who’s calling?”

‘Great’ you think while seeing the caller ID, “No one, probably spam.” You say through gritted teeth while turning your phone off ALL the way, “Don’t worry about it,” you mumble while giving him quick pecks, “ ‘s not important baby.” You run your hands along the planes of his chiseled chest and toned stomach. 

Jicheol uses his hold on you to switch your positions, you giggle up at him when your head lands on the soft pillows, “What’s so funny, hm.” He buries his face in the side of your neck and sucks marks into your unblemished skin. 

Your lips part and you bury your fingers in his hair, “Nothin’,” you lick your lips as you catch your phone from the corner of your eye, “nothing at all.” You say as his lips find yours and the two of you sink into the sheets. 

+

The cold morning air brushes against your cold cheeks fiercely, only fueling your adrenaline to keep jogging despite your lungs begging otherwise. You liked morning jogs a lot, helped clear your mind and get you away from everything for a bit. Besides, the trail you took was local and not many people came out at this hour. 

“Ah shit.” You whisper tiredly while pausing in your tracks to pick up your fallen AirPod. You take a minute to inspect it and clean the earbud of any dirt and grime it might’ve got from the floor. 

You hear footsteps nearby but you assume it’s another runner (while there weren’t many, it wasn’t rare either). You move off the trail to get out of the way when suddenly the steps stop and a strong pair of arms wraps around your middle. You yell out in surprise and turn your head to see who your attacker is. 

“Jungkook..?” You breathlessly ask, “You scared me, what the hell is wrong with you?!” You smack his chest a few times.

Jungkook has this scary look on his face but what’s new? This spoilt brat was always pissy about something so you weren’t phased, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Don’t fuckin’ do that again.” He glares, “You intentionally ignored me for one,” he takes a step forward, “and then two, come to my surprise baby you turned your phone off. The fuck is that about?” He growls. 

You shake your head and sigh in disbelief, “Really? You’re crying about me turning my phone off? So what, am I supposed to ask you for permission now? Can’t even let my phone die without you freaking out?”

Jungkook snatches your wrist and tugs you towards him, “Don’t fucking give me that,” he whispers dangerously low, “I’m not a fucking moron like you think I am.”

“Nobody said that.” You tug on your wrist, “Now let me go, someone’s gonna see you and I have to get back home.” Jungkook’s about to answer when he suddenly pauses, staring at something. You frown in confusion and look, “What?” You follow his eyes and you go still. 

The marks. 

You really done it now. “Jungkook…” You hesitantly meet his eyes and wish you never had. He looks so fucking pissed you don’t know whether to cry or run away. 

The fear kicks in and you take a step back from him. Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and slowly nods his head, “I see..seems like you were too busy being a little cockslut hangin’ off someone else’s cock. Tell me was it good?” He darkly mumbles, “Did he fuck you better than I did? Did he have your pussy droolin’ and creaming around his cock like you do to mine? He make you scream like I do baby?” He envelops your entire throat in his hand, not gripping but rather just holding you in place. 

“I’ll scream.” You whisper shakily. 

“Go ahead,” Jungkook laughs in your face, “you do it plenty so I don’t see the difference now.” Your face burns with humiliation and you turn your face away from him, “Oh don’t give me that,” he mock-pouts, “c’mon baby look at me.” He grips your cheeks between his fingers as he squeezes them together and makes your pouty lips form a tiny little peak that he smooches. 

“Jungkook please,” you softly whine, “not here, someone’s gonna see.” 

“You’re right,” he mumbles while staring at the dark hickeys Jicheol left on you, “I know a better place.” You follow his eyes and look over to see that he’s set his sights on your home. Immediately you turn to protest but Jungkook lifts a finger over your lips, “Ah-ah, just do as I fuckin’ say.” 

. 

You’re walking on pins and needles right now, today might just be the day your entire world ends up ruined. You can’t help the way your eyes flicker over to the laundry room, the anxiety claws at your insides and you’re desperate for any escape. After Jungkook had demanded you let him into your home things started piling one after the other. 

First it was Jicheol who had decided to come early from work (out of all days you bitterly think), and then you had Danielle over helping with Jae. How the hell are you planning on explaining anything if Jae or Danielle accidentally enter the laundry room and see Jungkook in there? This isn’t a “oh, my mistake” situation, there’s no coming back from this once everything begins to surface.

You shudder just thinking about it, “Danielle–honey, do you mind taking Jae out to the park for a bit? I got a lot on my mind right now and I think I’m gonna just cook dinner or something to get my head out of the clouds. I’d prefer if Jae wasn’t in the house though.”

Danielle stops coloring the page Jae had handed her as she tilts her head up to meet your eyes, “Oh, sure. Do you want me to pack him something or will we be coming back early?” She stands to her feet while dusting off her jeans. 

“Pack a few snacks,” you look over at the closed double doors and nervously bite your lip, “actually here, just take this and bring me back the change—or don’t. Just head out before it gets dark.” You say while ushering her and Jae out. 

Danielle doesn’t comment on your jittery behavior, she simply waves bye and takes the little boy with her down the street to the local park. Now you just have to find a way to keep Jicheol occupied. “Jicheol? Baby do you mind stopping by the store and bringing me a few things?” You loudly call out. 

Jungkook’s long made himself at home in your kitchen, he waves his hand with a teasing smirk on his face. “Fuck you,” you mouth while passing the kitchen to head upstairs where Jicheol was probably at, “Jicheol baby can you run to the store?” You sound out of breath by the time you reach the top, Jicheol’s standing in the doorway in his loungewear. 

“Sure, you got a list or something?” He hums. 

“Uh yeah, I wrote it down but I forgot where I slipped the note. Just go, I’ll send it to you when you’re on your way yeah?” You try to appear as calm as possible but the devil downstairs wouldn’t let you. 

Jicheol looks at you weirdly but ends up nodding anyway, “Okay well, you do that.” He slips past you, “I’ll call you if you don’t send the list by the time I get there.” He begins descending downstairs, “By the way, did the neighbors get a new car? I swear I keep seeing that same Mercedes up and down the street.” 

You freeze in terror and clench your fists tightly, “..Oh really? I didn’t know either,” you slip downstairs and turn the corner to see Jicheol standing in the kitchen while drinking a glass of water you don’t remember seeing him or anyone for that matter set out. 

“Maybe you should get going before it gets late. I kinda need the things for the dinner I’m making.” You nervously smile. 

“You tryin’ to get rid of me now?” Jicheol laughs, “So jittery baby, what’s got you all fired up hm?” He tucks you into his arms and rocks side to side, “Did something happen baby?” He softly says in your ear. 

“No,” you mumble back, “was planning a surprise.” 

Jicheol nods slowly, “Okay, I’ll be back then my love. I can’t wait to see what you got planned.” He winks and parts from you. You close your eyes and wait for Jicheol to leave, you can hear him getting his keys and a few other trinkets of his. Any minute now.. 

. . .

“Jicheol?” You call out when you don’t hear the front door open or close, “Is everything okay?” 

You end up stepping out to go see what was happening, instead you got a fat load of Jungkook carrying your unconscious husband away to the living room, “Jungkook?! What did you do? What the fuck did you do?!” You begin panicking, pacing back and forth throughout the room, “Fucking hell, are you some sort of deranged psycho!” 

“Relax,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I drugged him, well been drugging him with the water I left out.” He snickers and tosses Jicheol over the couch, “Fuck he’s heavy,” he cracks his back and rolls his muscles, “baby, baby,” he raises his hand, “you’re stressin’ me the fuck out with all your walking and pacing.”

 

“Well excuse me, my husband is drugged and passed out in front of me, but sure I’ll keep it down for you Mr Jeon, anything else?” 

Jungkook lazily grins, “You can be as loouuud as you want, I’m not complaining.” He raises his hands in surrender, “But you know what, there is something you can do for me.” He purrs low, “Come here.” 

Your eyes widen knowingly and you shake your head, “No, fuck no. We can go to the room or anywhere but not here—not in front of him.” You hiss. 

“I don’t really give a fuck.” Jungkook tugs you close, “Awake or asleep, I’ll fuck you whenever and however the fuck I want.” His hot breath ghosts over the side of your neck, “I know that deep down—you love this, gettin’ fucked silly in front of your husband, don’t you wanna show him how well you take my cock?” He whispers. 

Your eyes slip shut in both arousal and horror, “No.” 

“Liar.” Jungkook bites down on your earlobe teasingly, “Explain this,” he suddenly thrusts a hand into your sweatpants. His cold fingers cup you through your panties, heavy palm sitting right under your pulsing heat. “Hm?” 

“J-Jungkook, no,” you fight against his grip and squirm around, “listen to me dammit!” You sob in frustration as all the fight begins to slowly leave your body, ending with you melting into a mush of goo. 

Jungkook coos softly, “Baby needs a cock in her? Is that it?” He cages you in between him and the coffee table the back of your knees bumps into, “C’mon tell me, you know I like hearing filthy things leave that pretty little mouth.” He tilts you by the chin to face him, “Look at me,” he patiently hums. 

Your eyes flutter open to the bleary sight of Jungkook, “Just get it over with,” you blink tears away, “please Jungkook.” 

He doesn’t say anything when he slides his lips on yours, his hand cups the side of your face to hold you perfectly still and pliant in his hands. Your face scrunches cutely and you find yourself trying to guide him away from the living room with hands over his abdomen. However a frown makes its way to your face when you notice he doesn’t budge. 

“We’re not going anywhere sweetheart,” he calmly says after pulling apart with a string of spit connecting your messy lips, “but you already knew that, why play dumb?” He talks to you like he’s talking to a child. 

You make a noise of protest but it dies down when Jungkook begins moving. He guides you over to the armrest of the sofa Jicheol’s passed out on. Your heart slams in your chest violently like it’s about to burst. Jicheol’s sleeping face is centimeters away from yours making it all the more horrifying.

 

Jungkook steps behind your bent form, he runs his hands over your sides and thighs with a pleased sigh. He slips his hands into your sweats, taking his sweet time in massaging your hips and the swells of your ass cheeks. You end up biting your lip and trying not to squirm away from his unwanted touches. 

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath when he tugs your sweatpants down and sees the pretty undies you had on under, “well happy fuckin’ birthday to me.” He whistles and runs his palm over the waistband, hooking his fingers in and pulling until the band snapped back in place. 

You yelped and jolted from the stinging sensation you felt in your hip, he finally decided to grant some mercy and tugged the panties down your thighs. They dropped around your ankles alongside your sweatpants leaving your cunt out in the open for Jungkook. By now you’re sure some wetness had built up between your sticky dewy folds, they felt moist and drenched. 

“Such a little liar,” he smacks your drooling cunt, sending you reeling over the couch with a cry of shock. Your face is dangerously close to Jicheol’s, you catch yourself from letting out another yell when Jungkook spanks you again. The pain sparks a heat inside of you. 

“If I woulda known this slutty cunt drips at the thought of being fucked infront of your husband, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago baby.” He chuckles breathily and rubs over your tender pussy. You moan in protest from the “soothing” touch, he has to give you a warning pinch when your squirming becomes tedious, “Behave.”

Jungkook slips his fingers between your folds, parting them in a ‘v’ as he strokes over your entire pussy. A delicious shiver passes over you when his fingers brush over your slippery clit. The touch is enough to make your swollen bud throb with anticipation and need. You bite a whiny moan and let your head hang in slight disappointment. Jungkook isn’t deterred though, he keeps brushing over your clit never quite touching it. 

“Drippin’ already.” Jungkook murmurs while burying his face in your neck, “head up baby, want him to see the slutty little faces you make while getting fucked stupid.” He shallowly dips his fingers into your sopping hole with a lewd squelch. “Hear that?” He purrs low, “filthy already.” 

Your face grows hot with shame but Jungkook doesn’t stop swirling his fingertip around, he wipes his finger clean in your inner thigh, leaving behind a dollop of slick smeared all over. He shuffles behind you until the head of his weeping cock slides through the mess between your legs. His cock comes poking out through your thighs as he slips himself between your squishy wet folds. 

He slowly rolls his hips and lets his cock slide over your mound again and again. The underside of his shaft rubs against your clit giving it the much needed friction you were craving. “Mmh,” your thighs squeeze together and you push your hips back, plush ass meeting his pelvis with a messy smack. 

“Needy little thing,” Jungkook muses and steers you forward with a hand over your back, “gonna fuck it out of you though—he may have married you but this cunt still belongs to me at the end of the day.” He suddenly slams his hips forward, instantly filling you with a loud splat as his balls collide with your folds, “Mine to fuck, mine to breed, mine to claim.” He groans. 

Your mouth falls open and you shudder, his cock from this angle somehow makes you feel fuller and more stretched out. Your rim hugs his cunt tightly and you can feel the slight tug on your perineum when he backstrokes. Another lewd “uhn” leaves you when he drives his cock right back in, the tip pokes your cervix but it’s nothing too serious or painful. 

“Let me hear you,” Jungkook bites his lower lip and rolls his hips faster, “let your husband hear how you—really—like to get fucked.” He huffs under his breath and brings the hem of his shirt up to his mouth, biting it so he can see his cock disappear into your ruined cunt over and over. 

Your ass ripples with every thrust and there’s a low smacking noise, he’s punching more and more moans from your throat. It’s harder to keep them in when he’s rubbing those spots so good. His cock bumps into your g-spot occasionally but Jungkook wants to drag it out so he doesn’t hit it yet. Your pussy clenches around him drawing a hiss from him as his fingertips dig into your hips. 

Jungkook slams forward and sends you toppling over the armrest a little with your feet dangling a few inches from the floor. You’re jostled closer to Jicheol and hold back a terrified scream you almost let out. Jungkook’s losing control and the pace is sending you flying towards your husband, one wrong move and you’re going to topple on top of Jicheol.

“J-Jungkook slow down,” you mewl, “ ‘m gonna fall..!” You gasp, he hits your g-spot head on with vigor. When he sees the tremor that wracks your smaller frame he starts pounding into that spot wildly. 

Your cries are clear as day, the wet smacking is thundering and the couch rattles loudly over the wooden flooring. You scramble to find a good grip to keep yourself steady while you get the pounding of a lifetime. His vicious thrusts send you forward but his firm grip keeps you speared right on his cock. You chant Jungkook’s name which only spurs him on as he fucks you like a madman. 

Jungkook lets the hem of his shirt go and trails a hand up to twist in your hair, “Fuckin’ slut—pussy’s mine ‘n mine only. Let’s leave him a nice little present for when he wakes up baby, yeah? Gonna fuck this slutty pussy on him even with my cum dripping from it? Least you’ll be all loose ‘n wet for him,” he smirks, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? Maybe we should let him join next time, we’ll fuck all your little holes and keep ‘em filled with our cock.”

You shamelessly moan at that and tilt your head back for him without having to be asked. He lets out a pleased moan and leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, “One cock not enough anymore?” He rubs your ass with his other hand and lands a hard slap over it, “Hm?” 

“N-No,” you hiccup with teary eyes, “need t-to cum,” you gasp, “soo close..mmh..” 

“Cum,” Jungkook whispers, “go on,” he brings a hand down between your sticky thighs and smacks your clit with two fingers. 

The sting sends you over the edge with a loud cry spilling from your lips. You shake from the intensity and slump over with a tired moan. Jungkook doesn’t care that you came already because he keeps pumping his cock in and out of your, using your cunt for his pleasure. 

He yanks you back like a ragdoll and wraps his hand around your throat tightly, “Next time think twice about lettin’ him mark you,” he growls in your ear, “or else drugging won’t be the thing I do.” He lets you go carelessly and grinds his cock deep, pelvis pressed tightly to your ass. 

Your lips part silently in a ‘o’ as you shudder, a mini-orgasm takes you by surprise and you’d rather not think it’s because of what he said just now.. Surely not right? Right.. 

Jungkook moans softly as your pussy hugs his cock nice and snug. He fills you spurt after spurt with cum, not bothering to pull out right away. In fact he grinds his hips in tiny motions to milk his orgasm out, sighs of relief slipping from his lips. The room feels hot and you’re pretty sure the stench of sweat and sex is pungent in the air.  

“Jungkook,” you shakily murmur while pushing back, “c’mon, it’s not funny anymore let me up.” You softly plead while looking back at him with wide glossed over puppy eyes. 

Clean-up is a quiet ordeal, Jungkook looks smug when you pass by with shaky legs. He doesn’t miss the chance to smack your ass, to which you fiercely glare at him as you disappear to quickly change. When you emerge in a comfy home outfit you stand in the doorway pointing to the front door. 

“Out.” You glare, “Not in my house Jungkook, this is the first and last time we do this. You hear me?” You’re not entirely sure he’s listening but you say it anyway. This was not only risky as hell but stupid too, everything was at stake (even if the adrenaline was crazy). 

“Kiss,” Jungkook mumbles with a grin as he finishes slipping his coat back on, “c’mon before I go baby.”

You stare at him unimpressed and walk over to press a gentle kiss over his lips. Of course he wraps his hands around your waist and tugs you closer to him, kissing Jungkook was never a quick ordeal. Nothing was ever quick with him. “Okay,” you push at his chest gently, “enough. My kid and nanny are coming home any minute now, get out.” You huff. 

“Yeah, yeah, you weren’t saying that when I fucked your brains out–” His laugh is cut off when he pauses to stare down the hall in amusement, “Looks like we have a audience baby.” He grins. 

Your head whips to see Danielle standing in the kitchen doorway, she looks shocked and disturbed. Jae’s nowhere insight but your heart still drops to your ass, “D-Danielle.” You’re going to fucking lose it right now. 

She takes a step back and looks at Jungkook with both fear and nervousness, “T-The front door was l-locked so we came through the  b-back.” 

“Dani–honey wait,” you stretch your hand out to her but she’s already running. You can hear Jae in the pantry loudly asking where the applesauce pouches are at. You look at Jungkook with fear in your eyes, “Jungkook—s-she..s-she knows!” You quiver and hold back a sob. 

Jungkook cups your face in his hands, “Don’t cry sweetheart, I’ll fix it yeah?” He hums, “Don’t worry that pretty little head, everything’s gonna be fine.” He kisses your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs, “Smile for me—yeahhh, there you go pretty girl.” He grins, “I’ll handle it.” 

+

Jungkook blows the smoke out from his lips, he crushes the cigarette under his boot and clicks his tongue in annoyance, “Shit,” he mutters and digs around his pocket for his phone, “hello?” He answers with his head tilted back as he watches the tiny snowflakes fall around him. 

“Did you handle it?” 

“I did,” Jungkook chuckles, “what, not gonna ask if I’m tired? It was a lot of work baby, don’t you think I deserve a present?” His eyes flicker down briefly but he goes back to snow watching. 

“...Thank you.” 

“Oh you will be thanking me later, but for now I got a lot of things to attend to so I’ll see you around baby. Don’t get too comfy, I was thinking about heading to London just the two of us. I’m sure that pretty brain of yours can come up with somethin’ to tell him, bye baby.” He smirks and hangs up before you can get a word in. 

He stands in silence just staring at the lump in front of him. “Poor kid, shit luck and shit life.” He grunts and lights another cigarette, “..Gotta get the cleaners ‘n shit—fuck it’s a mess.” He sighs and dials another number, “Hello?” He loudly says, “Round up the cleaning team—no it’s only one, might be two but for today it’s one. Teen, the baby-sitter.” He nudges his foot against the stiff limbs laying in the snow. 

“I’ll triple the payment if you help me eliminate a certain someone..yeah, spring cleaning. Oh, and don’t tell father about this. He’ll be real sad to know it happened..again..”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

TRAPPED - JJK

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1

you were trapped badly

you just couldn't understand where you messed up to have the Jeon jungkook obsessed with you. He was the type of guy no one wanted to mess with and you made sure to keep your distance and be practically invisible to just graduate peacefully.

oh how you wanted to laugh at that thought now

you were in your bed curled up, softly crying while clutching your phone which was blasting up with calls and texts from jungkook.

open the window pretty - 1:03 am

his text read. you closed your eyes shut tightly, a few tears escaping along the way. You knew you were playing with fire by not picking his calls up and not listening to him.

he was a monster

you still remember how he brutally beat up a guy for simply confessing to you. He almost killed him, if it wasn't for you crying and begging him to not do so.

And how could he just watch his baby cry over a stupid stupid boy?

of course he killed him.

but you don't know that.

slowly getting up from the bed you made your way towards the window and softly opened it-your phone still in your hand. Your eyes fell on the figure of jungkook leaning against his black sports car, his arms folded against his chest flexing his biceps. His eyes burning in anger looking directly at you; in contrast to his calm composure.

oh you were im trouble

you flinched when the phone in your hand started ringing and it was none other than him calling you while daring you to not pick up with his eyes.

picking up you couldn't utter a single word it was just your scared body, heavily breathing with a few tears escaping your eyes and dried up tears lingering on to your cheek, looking at him.

"you want a punishment that bad sweetheart?" his deep voice asked and you wanted nothing more than to slam the window shut and curl up in your bed praying he goes away.

"I- no" you pathetically stuttered and wished he heard you "I was asleep and didn't see your texts and calls- im sorry" you rushed to apologise after lying praying that he understands and leaves you alone.

"my baby was asleep, huh? sugar you can sleep all you want but at my place. I thought I had made myself clear"

"jungkook-" you sucked in a breath, his name tasting bitter on your tongue. how were you supposed to make him understand? "My parents won't ever allow that please"

"and you know i can make that no longer a problem"

this made your mind race at a hundred miles, what was he going to do? Was he going to-

"I'm giving you two choices, you either get your pretty little ass here or I'm gonna come up there and you know how that will end"

no no just no you felt like you could cry a river all over again, "please" you meekly let out while clutching your eyes tight

"so you want me to come get you" he nodded to himself and detached his leaned form from the car.

"no- l'm coming"

"that's like my good girl"

The Long Game III

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: sugar daddy au, yandere, life of luxury

summary: singapore suits you, just like he knew it would. ss you chase your dreams and fill the rooms with your laughter, namjoon stands quietly at your side, the architect of a life designed to keep you safe, happy, and his. you think you chose this path. but you’ve always been his greatest masterpiece

warnings: voyeurism (hidden 📷), smut, risk of being caught, hint of exhibitionism, power imbalance, manipulation, light d/s dynamic…i think that’s it 😅

word count: 2,253

a message from our sponsors 💁🏽‍♀️ maybe this is more of an fyi to myself than y’all…but i’ll keep changing the header with every little drabble for this series until i make one i’m happy with. but if you like one in particular, feel free to let me know ☺️

Singapore suits you.

Namjoon sees it in the way your eyes light up as you move through each room like you’re drifting through a dream. Your fingers skim over smooth marble countertops and custom furniture, over rich fabrics and curated décor—everything selected with you in mind. You linger by the floor to ceiling windows, gazing out at the marina, your reflection caught in the glass like a painting he can’t stop staring at.

The glow of the city lights flickers in your eyes, casting gold over your cheeks, and Namjoon thinks, yes. This is exactly where you’re meant to be.

He watches you from the doorway, shoulder leaned against the frame, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. There’s a deep, heavy satisfaction in his chest—something bone deep and salacious. The kind of pleasure that comes from knowing you’ve orchestrated something flawlessly.

Of course, you love it here.

He chose it for you.

The penthouse is perfection—sleek and warm, minimalist but indulgent. The kind of place that whispers success without shouting. The kind of place a woman like you deserves. You don’t even question it. Why would you? From your perspective, everything simply fell into place.

Just like the job.

A sudden opportunity, an ideal position at a competitive firm, in a beautiful new city at just the right moment. You told him it felt like fate. He had smiled, tucked your hair behind your ear, and said maybe it was. But fate had nothing to do with it. He’d rewritten your path in silence, paved it in opportunity and made sure the world bent around you in ways you’d never see.

The company that made the offer? One of his. A quiet subsidiary. A name you wouldn’t associate with him unless you were already looking. And you’re not looking. You’re dreaming. Planning. Building your life.

Exactly how he wants.

Because everything around you—the neighborhood, the view, the job, the life—is his gift to you.

Carefully wrapped.

Flawlessly executed.

He can feel the heat of your happiness from here. It warms him in ways nothing else ever has. You were born to be adored. Protected. Possessed. And Namjoon is the only one who has ever truly understood that.

“Joon, what do you think about adding some plants in the living room?”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie.

He hums, tilting his head just slightly. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You’re still by the windows, tilting your head as you gesture to an empty corner. “Maybe something tall? A fiddle leaf fig or something? And maybe a few hanging ones near the bar?”

He steps closer, slow and deliberate, hands slipping into his pockets as he comes to stand beside you. You turn to look up at him, eyes soft, smile easy. The sight nearly knocks the wind out of him.

God, you have no idea.

You don’t know how hard he worked to bring this moment to life. How many strings he pulled. How many men he threatened. How many surveillance layers are hidden in these walls. You don’t know about the email threads marked confidential or the financial reshuffling required to make the transfer seem organic. You don’t know that your coworkers report to a man who reports to him.

You don’t know.

And Namjoon isn’t going to tell you.

Because this version of you—the one standing barefoot on polished stone floors, dreaming aloud about indoor plants and accent walls—is everything.

He leans in slightly, brushing his knuckles down your arm.

“A few plants would look beautiful here,” he murmurs, voice low. “Something vibrant. Lush.” He traces your wrist, smiling when you shiver slightly under his touch. “Something alive that needs you to care for it.”

You smile again, and his chest aches.

Your joy is his reward. Your comfort, his mission. Your safety, his obsession.

But underneath the warmth, something else simmers. A cold, razor sharp edge that never dulls.

Because this is still the honeymoon stage.

You love Singapore now. You love the apartment. The job. The fresh start.

But he knows you.

Knows how your heart wanders. How easily you crave newness.

That’s why he chose this exact high rise. Why your penthouse sits just beneath a vacant unit—one he owns outright. It’s why your “new job” was created with enough flexibility for remote oversight and why your apartment is stocked with cameras disguised as smart home sensors.

Because Namjoon loves you.

But he doesn’t trust the world with you.

Not when he’s worked so hard to build one where you’re never out of reach.

So he lets you play house. Lets you imagine this independence is your own design.

The movers are still here, working efficiently as they unpack your furniture and personal belongings under Namjoon’s careful supervision. The air hums with the sharp rip of packing tape, the shuffle of boxes, the dull thump of furniture being placed exactly where he wants it.

Namjoon walks with you from room to room, appearing relaxed—hands in his pockets, posture unhurried. But he’s not just admiring the way the space is coming together.

He’s watching the security feed on his phone.

Discreetly flicking through the camera angles as you chat about curtain colors and light fixtures, about which drawer will hold your favorite teas.

Everything is exactly as it should be. Kitchen, living room, entry points, bedroom.

Then he pauses.

The bedroom camera catches you standing by the window, the city skyline casting your silhouette in stark relief. The camera was placed for safety, but this angle? It’s perfect. An accidental masterpiece. The way your top clings to your body, the supple curve of your breasts beneath the fabric, the outline of your thighs where the light hits.

Heat flares low in his stomach.

He swipes out of the app and turns to you. You’re just a few feet away, oblivious, glowing.

It’s too much.

“Come here,” he says, gruffer than he intends.

You blink up at him, a bit confused by the shift in his tone, but you come. You always do. And the moment your fingers brush his, he laces them together and leads you into the bedroom, then into the walk in closet off to the side.

The closet is massive, paneled in soft white with matte brass hardware. One entire wall is mirrored—floor to ceiling. The other houses shelves and hanging racks, freshly filled with the wardrobe he bought for you. A plush velvet ottoman sits in the center.

Namjoon shuts the closet door behind you. The sounds of the movers continue beyond, boxes being repositioned, instructions traded in hushed voices. But in here, everything stills.

“Joon?” You laugh softly, your voice husky with curiosity. “What are you—”

He doesn’t answer.

He’s already sitting down, tugging you onto his lap like he’s been waiting all day to do just this. His hands find your hips and press down, grinding your core directly against the thick length straining behind his zipper.

Your breath hitches.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, one hand sliding up your spine, the other gripping your thigh possessively. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You part your lips to say something but it dies in your throat the moment he cups your breasts. His thumbs roll over your nipples, teasing them through your top until they harden beneath his touch.

“You really don’t know?” His voice is darker now, low and rumbling. “The things I think about when I watch you. When I hear your voice. When you smile at me.”

You tremble in his lap, hips moving of their own accord. Namjoon’s breath stutters as you grind against him.

He tugs your top down, exposing your breasts, and leans forward without hesitation. His mouth closes over one nipple, tongue swirling slowly, lips wet and hot. He sucks—hard—then softens the pressure, licking lazily as his hand toys with the other.

The mirrored wall reflects everything.

You catch sight of yourself—head tilted back, chest bare, Namjoon’s dark hair between your breasts, his hands greedy and worshipful at once. The sight makes you moan, your hips rolling instinctively.

Namjoon lifts his head, his mouth glistening. Then his hands slip lower, past your waistband—

He stills.

You aren’t wearing any panties.

His pupils dilate instantly.

“No panties?” he murmurs, brushing his fingers along your slick folds, your arousal already seeping onto his slacks. “You’ve been walking around all day like this?”

You smirk, even as your breath shortens. “I like the way it feels.”

His restraint snaps a little more.

“You little fucking tease.”

His fingers slide into you with precision, two at once, stroking deep and curling upward. His thumb circles your clit in practiced rhythm, dragging soft gasps from your lips as you cling to his shoulders, legs already shaking.

“Look at yourself,” he murmurs, tipping your chin toward the mirror.

You obey—because you always do.

You see yourself—your back arching, Namjoon’s fingers disappearing inside you, his mouth at your throat, your face twisted in pleasure and need.

“So wet for me,” he groans, dragging his fingers deeper. “And this tight little pussy still thinks she doesn’t need a chauffeur?”

You blink through the haze. “What—?”

“You said you wanted to drive yourself,” he hums, dragging his teeth across your neck. “Wanted to explore the city alone. Said you didn’t need help.”

His thumb presses harder on your clit, and your hips jerk.

“That was disobedient.”

Your breath catches. “Joon—”

He cuts you off with a kiss—open mouthed and hot, stealing the air from your lungs.

“If you want my cock,” he says between kisses, “you’ll have to earn it.”

He fucks you with his fingers, faster now, the wet sound of your arousal barely masked by the sounds outside the door. You’re trembling, thighs clamping around his hand, face buried in his neck to muffle your cries.

“Come for me,” he growls, biting your earlobe. “Right here. Just like this.”

And you do—body locked up in his arms, lips parting around a strangled moan, your reflection in the mirror blurred by the tears pricking your lashes.

But Namjoon doesn’t stop.

“That’s one,” he whispers against your cheek. “You can give me another.”

You whimper, already sensitive.

“Be a good girl,” he croons, his tone deceptively sweet, “and maybe I’ll give you what you’re so desperate for.”

The second orgasm hits harder. Messier. You clutch at him, shaking uncontrollably, eyes wide and glassy. Namjoon holds you steady, his fingers finally stilling as he kisses your jaw, your cheek, your temple.

You melt against him—boneless, dazed, flushed.

There’s a knock at the closet door.

You freeze.

Namjoon grins.

“Sir?” one of the movers calls. “We’re just about finished. Would you like to do a final walkthrough?”

Namjoon strokes your back. “Give us a moment,” he calls back.

Then he turns to you—still in his lap, still trembling.

He lifts your chin with two fingers and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll pick this up later.” He says, calm and seemingly unaffected. He feels your heartbeat against his own—erratic, frantic, pulsing like a secret against his chest.

You, on the other hand, are very much affected.

Namjoon lets the silence stretch between you, his arms still wrapped around your trembling frame, watching as realization sinks into your bones. The flush creeping up your neck. The way your eyes dart toward the door.

Anyone could open it.

You’re still bare from the waist up. Flushed. Slick between the thighs. A trembling mess in his lap.

Anyone could see.

You scramble to pull your top back into place, hands shaking slightly, your breath catching when the fabric catches on your nipple. You don’t meet his eyes—too focused on smoothing down your clothes, on regaining some kind of composure.

Namjoon doesn’t help you.

He just watches.

Because there’s something about the way you react to being almost caught—the way your thighs subconsciously press together, the way your pupils stay blown and your lips remain parted in dazed silence—that makes him hard all over again.

Once you’ve settled into a semblance of order, he finally speaks.

“Let’s go,” he says softly, almost kindly, his voice at odds with the quiet dominance still coiling beneath it. He lifts you off his lap with firm hands, steadying you as you wobble slightly, your legs still weak from overstimulation.

He straightens his own clothes in one fluid motion. Composed. Effortless.

Then he opens the door.

One of the movers stands just outside, tablet in hand, mouth slightly open before he quickly schools his expression.

But Namjoon sees it.

The flicker of recognition. The twitch of a gaze that dips a little too low.

A slow, territorial burn curls in his gut.

But he reins it in.

For now.

Namjoon slides an arm around your waist and tugs you close, his hand resting low, possessive, as he steps forward into the hallway.

“Let’s see your new home,” he murmurs, voice warm and perfectly measured.

You nod, still quiet, clinging to him just slightly. Whether it’s from embarrassment, arousal, or both—he doesn’t care.

Because as he walks you through the condo, guiding you gently from room to room, he adjusts the cameras again.

Subtle.

Precise.

His mind already races ahead.

You love Singapore. You’ve said it more than once.

But it’s only been a few weeks.

He’ll give it a few months—let you settle, let you fall into this new life he’s curated for you.

Let you think this freedom is real. Because your life may feel new, may feel like yours—but every inch of it was always his.

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