Strip Poker With A Yandere Cowboy

۶ৎ SHADOWS OF OBSESSION | m. list

In a gritty city, a ruthless criminal's obsession with a shy medical student ignites a dangerous, passionate dance of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets unravel, and the line between love and possession blurs, pulling them into a thrilling, heart-wrenching saga. Will their twisted bond survive the chaos, or will it consume them both?

pairing: criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader

genre: criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, angst, fluff

warnings: 18+, several explicit sex scenes, mature themes, dark content, graphic violence and gore, non-consensual and dubious consent, cnc, psychological and emotional abuse, kidnapping and captivity, substance use, mental health themes, each chapter contains their individual warnings (reader discretion is advised due to the intense, dark and potentially triggering nature of the content)

status: ongoing

main masterlist

۶ৎ

— 01 ; "eclipse of envy"

— 02 ; "thorns of desire"

— 03 ; "ashes of devotion"

— 04 ; "embers of absence"

— 05 ; to be released.

۶ৎ SUGAR AND SPICE —

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, stepping closer, cupping your face, his thumb parting your lips. “So shy, so sweet, and all mine.”

pairing: sugar daddy dom!taehyung x sub!femreader

genre: ceo!taehyung, college student!reader, age gap (19 years), slowburn, luxury lifestyle, sugar daddy x sugar baby, strangers to lovers, seoul setting, romance, erotica, smut, fluff, angst

warnings: 18+, explicit smut, power dynamics, emotional vulnerability, reassurance, insecurities, mentions of financial struggles, emotional bonding, tenderness, light mentions of argument, D/s dynamics, use of "sir", possessiveness, obsessive!taehyung, lingerie kink, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, missionary position, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation (use of terms like "slut," "whore"), orgasm control, creampie, unprotected sex, clit stimulation, breast play, nipple play, nipple sucking, unprotected sex, doggy style, eating out, face riding, face sitting, tongue fucking, clit sucking, pussy worship, making out, hickies/markings, body worship, mentions of visiting a sex toy shop, mentions of dildo, blindfolds and vibrators, vibrator use (f. receiving), crying (in pleasure), vibrator used to stimulate nipples, vaginal penetration with vibrator, multiple stimulations, mild somnophilia, morning sex, missionary position, light choking, restraint play (implied with silk ties), consensual power imbalance, hair pulling, cum swallowing, oral sex (m. receiving), cock sucking, face fucking, several aftercare scenes, softest aftercare

wc: 10.1k

masterlist

۶ৎ

In Seoul’s pulsating heart, where skyscrapers gleamed like blades against the sky and the Han River shimmered under a neon glow, Kim Taehyung reigned as a titan. At 40, he was the CEO of Vante Enterprises, a conglomerate that dominated luxury real estate and high-end fashion. His life was a masterpiece of ambition, each decision a calculated step toward greater power. Standing at 6’1”, Taehyung’s presence was commanding—broad shoulders filling out bespoke suits, a lean frame sculpted by discipline, and hands that could seal a multimillion-dollar deal or silence a room with a gesture. His jet-black hair, lightly threaded with silver, framed a face both strikingly handsome and intimidatingly stern, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His deep brown eyes, often cold and piercing, held a storm of intensity, capable of unraveling secrets or freezing someone in place. His voice, a low, gravelly timbre, carried an authority that demanded obedience, whether he was negotiating with tycoons or dismissing an inept assistant.

Taehyung’s world was one of opulence, but it was a solitary empire. His penthouse, perched atop one of his own skyscrapers, was a study in modern elegance—polished marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Seoul’s glittering skyline, and minimalist furniture in stark blacks and ivories. The air was cool, the silence broken only by the faint hum of the city or the clink of ice in his whiskey glass. He had no family; his parents had passed a decade ago, and he was an only child. His relationships were fleeting, often transactional—women drawn to his wealth and charisma but deterred by his gruff demeanor and unrelenting standards. Taehyung was grumpy, his patience razor-thin, and his temper could flare at the smallest misstep. Employees tiptoed around him, rivals respected him, and the world saw him as untouchable. Yet, beneath the iron facade, there was a man who craved something real, a softness to balance the hardness of his existence, though he buried that longing deep.

Across the city, in a cramped dorm at Seoul National University, lived you—Y/N, a 21-year-old literature major with dreams as vast as the ocean but a life tethered by scarcity. Your dorm was a cozy chaos of secondhand books stacked precariously on shelves, fairy lights strung haphazardly across the ceiling, and a worn-out laptop that groaned under the weight of your essays. Petite at 5’2”, you had a heart-shaped face that radiated innocence, with wide doe eyes framed by long lashes and soft, wavy hair often tied back with a pastel ribbon. Your wardrobe was a patchwork of thrifted sweaters, flowy skirts, and scuffed sneakers, a reflection of your tight budget. You were painfully shy, your cheeks flushing at the slightest attention, your voice soft and hesitant when speaking to strangers. But your heart was warm, your kindness drawing people in, even if you were too timid to notice.

Your life was a delicate balancing act. Raised in a small coastal town by a single mother who worked two jobs, you’d grown up knowing sacrifice. Scholarships and part-time jobs funded your education, but money was a constant worry. You worked as a barista at Bean & Blossom, a quaint café near campus, where you spent evenings steaming milk, serving pastries, and scribbling story ideas in a tattered notebook. Submissive by nature—not weak, but deferential—you avoided conflict and sought approval, finding comfort in structure. You dreamed of writing novels that would touch hearts, but you also longed for stability, for someone to ease your burdens. Romance was a distant fantasy; your inexperience and shyness made intimacy both thrilling and terrifying. You’d never had a boyfriend, and the thought of someone wanting you felt like a story from one of your books.

It was a crisp autumn evening, the air thick with the scent of falling leaves and the promise of winter. Bean & Blossom was quiet, its warm lights casting a golden glow over the wooden tables. You were behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine, your pale blue apron slightly askew, a smudge of flour on your cheek from baking muffins. Your shift was nearing its end, your feet aching, your mind drifting to a looming essay. The bell above the door chimed, a sharp sound that snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up, and your breath caught as Kim Taehyung walked in.

He was a vision of power, his presence filling the small café like a storm. His tailored black overcoat brushed against his calves, the fabric catching the light as he strode toward the counter. His expression was stern, his jaw tight, as if the world had already tested his patience. He’d been at a grueling meeting with investors, his mood soured by their demands, and needed a black coffee to keep him sharp. You froze, your hands trembling as you met his gaze. His eyes were intense, twin pools of dark amber that seemed to see through you, and you felt small, exposed. Your heart raced, your pulse a frantic drumbeat.

“G-Good evening, sir,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. Your cheeks flushed pink, and you ducked your head, fidgeting with your apron as if it could shield you from his intensity. “What can I get started for you?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his stoic face. Your nervousness was refreshing, a stark contrast to the calculated flattery he was used to. “Black coffee, no sugar,” he said, his voice deep and clipped. “Make it quick.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you replied, your voice trembling as you turned to the coffee machine. Your hands fumbled with the portafilter, nearly dropping it, and you cursed yourself for being so clumsy. The machine hissed as you tamped the grounds, your movements jerky under his gaze. Taehyung watched, his expression unreadable, his eyes lingering on your trembling hands, the flush creeping up your neck, and the way your lips parted as you focused.

As you prepared his coffee, you stole glances at him, your curiosity warring with your nerves. He was older, undeniably handsome, with an aura of power that made your stomach flutter. When you handed him the coffee, your fingers brushed his, the brief contact sending a jolt through you. You gasped, pulling back, your cheeks crimson.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone softer. He noticed the flour on your cheek and, without thinking, reached out to wipe it away with his thumb. His touch was warm, firm, and you froze, your eyes wide. He paused, realizing what he’d done, and withdrew his hand. “You had something on your face,” he muttered, clearing his throat.

“T-Thank you, sir,” you whispered, mortified, your body tingling from his touch. He nodded, paid with a crisp bill, and left, the bell chiming as the door closed. You stared after him, your heart pounding, your mind replaying the feel of his thumb.

Taehyung, in his chauffeured car, couldn’t shake your image—your wide eyes, trembling hands, soft flush. You were a breath of fresh air in his sterile world, and he wanted to see you again.

Taehyung became a regular at Bean & Blossom, arriving late, just before closing, when the café was nearly empty, and ordered the same black coffee. Each visit, he watched you with an intensity that made your knees weak, his eyes tracking your every move as you worked. You grew accustomed to his presence, though you remained a nervous wreck around him. Your shyness manifested in small ways—stuttering when you took his order, avoiding his gaze, calling him “sir” in a voice so soft it barely carried. The honorific amused him, his lips twitching with a rare, fleeting smile that made your heart skip.

One night, as you were closing up, he lingered longer than usual. The café was empty, the lights dimmed to a warm amber, and you were sweeping the floor, the soft swish of the broom the only sound. Taehyung sat at a corner table, his coffee untouched, his eyes fixed on you. “You’re always so nervous around me,” he said suddenly, his voice low and teasing, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Do I scare you?”

You froze, clutching the broom so tightly your knuckles whitened. Your heart raced, and you felt heat flood your face. “N-No, sir,” you lied, your voice trembling. “I-I just… you’re very… um, intimidating.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down your spine and made your core pulse with an unfamiliar heat. “Intimidating, huh? Most people say that.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze pinning you in place. “But you… you’re different. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said softly, barely meeting his eyes before looking down at the floor, your cheeks burning.

“Y/N,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a caress. He stood, his movements fluid, and approached the counter, leaving a generous tip—far more than the coffee warranted. “See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a promise that made your pulse quicken. The door chimed, and he was gone, leaving you clutching the broom, your mind a whirlwind of emotions.

That night, you lay in your dorm, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of your interactions with him. His voice, his eyes, the way he said your name—it all felt significant, like a thread pulling you toward something unknown. You were intimidated, yes, but also curious, drawn to the enigma that was Kim Taehyung.

He returned the next evening, and the one after that, each visit stretching longer. He started engaging you in small talk, asking about your studies, your favorite books, your dreams. His questions were simple, but his attention was anything but. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving your face, and you found yourself opening up, your shyness easing slightly with each conversation. You told him about your love for literature, your dream of writing novels, the stories you scribbled in your notebook. He, in turn, shared glimpses of his world—tales of high-stakes deals, travels to Paris and Tokyo, the pressure of running an empire. He never spoke of his loneliness, but you sensed it in the way his voice softened when he talked to you, in the way his eyes lingered on you as if you were a rare treasure.

One evening, as you were locking up, he made an offer that changed everything. The café was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. You were slipping on your coat, your scarf tangled in your nervous hands, when he spoke. “Y/N,” he said, his tone serious, almost reverent. “I’d like to take care of you.”

You blinked, confused, your scarf slipping to the floor. “T-Take care of me, sir?” Your voice was small, your heart pounding as you tried to process his words.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and you caught the faint scent of his cologne—sandalwood and musk, rich and intoxicating. “You’re struggling, I can tell,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “School, work, money—it’s too much for someone like you. Let me help. I’ll pay for your tuition, your rent, anything you need. In return, you spend time with me. Be mine.”

Your heart stopped, your breath catching in your throat. You’d heard of arrangements like this—sugar daddies, sugar babies—but you never imagined it happening to you. The idea was both terrifying and thrilling, a lifeline wrapped in danger. “I-I don’t know, sir,” you stammered, your mind racing. “I’ve never… I mean, I’m not sure if I’m… good enough for that.”

He reached out, his hand gentle as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His touch was firm but not forceful, his thumb brushing lightly over your jaw. “You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice soft but resolute, a vow etched in every syllable. “I don’t want to pressure you, Y/N. Think about it. But know this—I see you. And I want you.”

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, your eyes wide and glassy. He released you, stepping back, and gave you a small, almost tender smile. “Good night, Y/N,” he said, and then he was gone, the door chiming behind him.

That night, you tossed and turned, your mind a battlefield of fear and temptation. Taehyung was intimidating, a man who could command a room with a glance, but he was also kind to you, softer than you’d expected. The idea of being cared for, of not worrying about rent or tuition, was intoxicating. And deep down, you were drawn to him—his strength, his dominance, the way he made you feel safe despite your nerves. You imagined his hands on you, his voice praising you, and your body responded, your pussy growing wet, your clit throbbing with a need you didn’t fully understand.

The next evening, you gave him your answer. The café was quiet, the counter between you a fragile barrier. He stood there, his coat draped over his arm, his eyes locked on you as you spoke. “Okay, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “I’ll… I’ll be yours.”

His smile was triumphant, possessive, a predator claiming his prize. “Good girl,” he murmured, the words sending a thrill through you, your core pulsing with heat. He stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. “You won’t regret this, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”

That was the start of your relationship, a dynamic built on his dominance and your submission, his gruff exterior melting only for you. It was a dance of power and trust, and you were ready to step into his world.

Taehyung was true to his word, transforming your life with a speed that left you dizzy. Within days, your tuition was paid in full, your cramped dorm replaced with a sleek one-bedroom apartment near campus. The apartment was a dream—hardwood floors, a plush sofa, a kitchen with gleaming appliances, and a bedroom with a bed so soft it felt like sinking into a cloud. He filled your wardrobe with designer clothes—silky dresses, cashmere sweaters, delicate lingerie that made you blush when you tried it on. He gave you a black credit card with no limit, slipping it into your hand with a low, “Spoil yourself, baby. You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine.”

He was lavish, almost excessive. He bought you first editions of your favorite books, their leather bindings smelling of history. He gifted you a rose-gold necklace with a tiny diamond pendant, clasping it around your neck himself, his fingers lingering on your skin. When he noticed your laptop lagging, he replaced it with a top-of-the-line model, complete with writing software you’d only dreamed of. He took you to restaurants where the menus had no prices, ordering for you with a confidence that made your heart flutter. He loved controlling the details—picking your outfits, planning your dates, guiding you with a firm hand that was both possessive and protective. But he was never cruel; his dominance was laced with care, his grumpiness softening when he saw your shy smile.

You, in turn, became his sanctuary. Around you, Taehyung’s stern demeanor melted, his sharp edges dulled by your presence. He’d pull you into his lap after a long day, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent—vanilla and jasmine, a fragrance he’d bought you. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” he’d murmur, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. You’d nod, your heart swelling at his praise, your body tingling at his touch. Your shyness never fully faded, but you grew comfortable with him, learning to trust his commands and revel in his attention.

Taehyung took you to a rooftop restaurant, a haven for Seoul’s elite. The table was set with candles and white roses, the skyline glittering below. You wore a red silk dress he’d chosen, the fabric clinging to your curves, the neckline revealing the tops of your breasts. His eyes darkened as he saw you, pulling out your chair, his hand brushing your lower back, sending shivers through you.

“You look stunning, baby,” he said, his voice husky, taking your hand. His thumb brushed your knuckles, and your nipples hardened, pressing against the dress. “T-Thank you, sir,” you murmured, blushing, your core throbbing.

He chuckled, leaning back. “Still so shy, huh?” His eyes flicked to your chest, smirking. “I like that. Makes me want to ruin you.”

You gasped, your thighs pressing together, wetness soaking your panties. “Taehyung,” you whispered, forgetting the honorific.

His grip tightened. “What was that, baby? You know what to call me.”

“S-Sir,” you corrected, trembling. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He smirked, sipping his wine. “Good girl. Eat. You’ll need your energy.”

The promise hung heavy. You picked at your scallops and risotto, anticipation coiling in your gut. Taehyung watched, his gaze predatory yet tender, sensing your arousal. After dessert—a rich chocolate torte—he led you to a private alcove overlooking the city. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, his hands on your hips, his breath warm against your ear.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his chest against your back. “All those lights, and you’re the only one I see.”

“Sir,” you whispered, leaning into him. “You make me feel so special.”

He turned you, cupping your cheek. “You are special, Y/N. You’re mine.” He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue claiming you. You melted, your hands clutching his shirt, your pussy throbbing as his hardness pressed against you. “Let’s go home, baby,” he growled. “I’m not done with you.”

One Saturday, Taehyung took you shopping, a whirlwind of indulgence that left you dizzy. You started at a boutique on Gangnam’s fashion row, where he sat convencen a plush armchair, watching as you tried on dresses. Each one—a flowy chiffon, a fitted velvet, a daring satin—drew a nod or a smirk from him. “That one,” he’d say, pointing to a emerald-green gown that hugged your curves. “It’s perfect for you.” You blushed, twirling for him, your heart fluttering at his approval.

He bought everything you tried on, the saleswoman’s eyes widening at the total. “Sir, I don’t need all this,” you whispered, clutching his arm as you left, bags in tow.

He stopped, tilting your chin up. “You deserve it, baby,” he said, his voice firm. “I want you to feel beautiful. Besides, I like seeing you in things I choose.” His thumb brushed your lips, and you shivered, your nipples hardening under your sweater.

The day took an unexpected turn when he led you to a discreet shop tucked away in a quiet alley. The sign read “Velvet Desires,” and your heart raced as you realized it was a high-end sex toy boutique. Your cheeks burned, your shyness flaring, but Taehyung’s hand on your lower back was steady, guiding you inside.

The shop was elegant, with dim lighting, black velvet walls, and glass cases displaying toys—vibrators, dildos, silk restraints. You froze, overwhelmed, but Taehyung’s voice was calm. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I want to pick something for us. Something to make you feel good.”

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. He led you to a case of vibrators, his eyes scanning the options. “What about this?” he asked, pointing to a sleek, rose-gold wand with multiple settings. “It’s versatile. I can use it on your clit, inside you… wherever you want.”

You blushed, your pussy throbbing at the thought. “I-I trust you, sir,” you whispered, barely audible.

He smirked, signaling the clerk to wrap it up. He also picked out a set of silk restraints, their deep burgundy color catching the light. “For when you’re feeling extra obedient,” he teased, making you squirm. The clerk rang up the purchase discreetly, and Taehyung paid with a card, his hand never leaving yours.

In the car, he pulled you close, his hand on your thigh. “Excited to try our new toys, baby?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Y-Yes, sir,” you admitted, your cheeks burning, your panties soaked.

“Good,” he said, kissing your temple. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”

Back at his penthouse, Taehyung’s demeanor shifted to commanding. The bedroom was vast, the king-sized bed draped in black silk, city lights casting a glow through the windows. He closed the door, his eyes dark with desire. “Strip,” he ordered, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest, his trousers hugging his thighs, his cock already straining.

You hesitated, shyness flaring. “S-Sir, I…” you started, clutching your dress.

His eyebrow arched. “Don’t make me ask twice, baby,” he said, his tone dangerous, sending a shiver through you.

You reached for the zipper, trembling as the silk pooled at your feet, leaving you in lacy black lingerie—a bra barely containing your breasts, lace teasing your hardened nipples, and soaked panties. Your skin prickled, your clit throbbing as he stared.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, stepping closer, cupping your face, his thumb parting your lips. “So shy, so sweet, and all mine.”

You whimpered, arching into him, your pussy dripping. He kissed you, slow and possessive, his tongue claiming you as his hands roamed. He unhooked your bra, groaning at your pink, puckered nipples. “Lie down,” he commanded, and you crawled onto the bed, the silk cool against your skin, your legs pressed together.

He parted your thighs, his hands firm. “Look at you,” he murmured, tracing your soaked panties. “Your pussy’s begging for my cock.” He slid them off, groaning at your glistening folds, your clit swollen. “So fucking wet,” he said, brushing a finger over your clit, making you moan.

Taehyung started slow, his fingers circling your clit, watching your reactions. “Such a pretty pussy,” he praised, slipping a finger inside, curling it to hit your g-spot. Your walls clenched, and he added another, stretching you gently. “So tight, so needy. All for me, right?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you gasped, clutching the sheets as he pumped his fingers, his thumb brushing your clit. Your nipples ached, your pussy dripping as he worked you.

He leaned down, his tongue flicking your clit, and you cried out, your back arching. His mouth was relentless, sucking your clit, his fingers fucking you steadily. The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with your moans, and your orgasm built, intense and overwhelming. He added a third finger, the stretch burning deliciously, and sucked harder.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice vibrating. “Let me feel you.”

You shattered, screaming his name, your pussy gushing as waves of pleasure crashed through you. He licked you through it, his fingers slowing, drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling, your clit throbbing.

He rose, shedding his clothes, revealing his toned chest, faint scars, and thick, veined cock, leaking precum. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock nudging your entrance. “Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Please, sir,” you whispered, trembling.

He entered you slowly, inch by inch, the stretch intense but delicious. You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said, his voice strained. “So perfect.”

His thrusts were deep, controlled, hitting spots that made you see stars. Your pussy was soaked, the wet sounds obscene. You moaned, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper. His restraint slipped, his thrusts growing rougher, the bed creaking. “Take it, baby,” he snarled. “Take my cock like a good girl.”

You screamed, your nails raking his back as he pounded you, your breasts bouncing, nipples grazing his chest. Your second orgasm built, and he rubbed your clit, his fingers relentless. “Cum for me,” he growled, and you did, your pussy clenching, gushing as you screamed. He followed, spilling inside you, his cock pulsing, filling you with warmth.

Taehyung collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest heaving. “You were perfect, baby,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, his voice soft. He reached for a warm cloth, cleaning you gently, his hands tender as he wiped your thighs, careful around your sensitive folds. He checked for any discomfort, his fingers brushing your skin with care. “Feel okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, smiling shyly. “Just… wow.”

He chuckled, wrapping you in a blanket, pulling you against his chest. He stroked your hair, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. “My good girl,” he murmured, kissing your temple. He offered you water, holding the glass as you sipped, his arm steady around you. He whispered praises, telling you how beautiful you were, how much you meant to him, until you drifted off, safe in his embrace.

One morning, you woke to Taehung’s lips on your inner thigh, his breath warm. The room glowed with dawn’s light, the city waking beyond the windows. His hair was tousled, his eyes dark with desire, his muscles flexing as he held your thighs apart. “Good morning, baby,” he murmured, his tongue teasing your clit, sending a jolt through you.

“Sir,” you moaned, your hands tugging his hair as he sucked your clit, his lips closing around it. He slipped two fingers inside, curling them to hit your g-spot, and you gasped, your pussy throbbing.

He ate you out lazily, savoring your moans, his tongue circling your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled, licking a long stripe up your slit. His fingers pumped, the wet sounds mingling with your gasps, and your orgasm coiled tight. He sucked harder, and you came, screaming, your pussy clenching around his fingers. He licked you through it, drawing out every aftershock.

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. “Ass up, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough. You obeyed, your cheek against the pillow, your pussy dripping. He entered you from behind, his cock sliding in deep, filling you. “Fuck, I love this,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts slow but powerful.

He leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “This pussy was made for my cock,” he murmured, his words sending shivers through you. His thrusts grew harder, faster, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles. “Cum again,” he ordered, and you did, your pussy gushing, screaming into the pillow. He followed, spilling inside you, his cock pulsing.

Taehyung pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your shoulder. “You’re amazing, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft. He cleaned you with a warm cloth, his hands gentle, checking your skin for marks. He massaged your hips, easing any tension, and offered you juice, holding the glass as you drank. He tucked you against him, stroking your hair, whispering, “You make me so happy, Y/N.” He stayed until you fell asleep, his warmth a cocoon around you.

One rainy afternoon, you were curled up on the penthouse sofa, a book in your lap, the city blurred by rain. Taehyung came home early, his suit damp, his hair tousled. He smiled—a rare, genuine smile—and joined you, pulling you into his lap. “Hey, baby,” he said, his chin on your shoulder. “What’re you reading?”

You showed him the romance novel, and he chuckled, kissing your cheek. “My little dreamer,” he murmured. “Always lost in stories.”

“They’re better than reality sometimes,” you said shyly, blushing.

He tilted your chin up. “Not anymore. Your reality’s with me, and I’ll make it better than any book.” You smiled, kissing him softly, your hands in his hair. It was a quiet moment, but it spoke volumes—his love, your trust, the bond growing stronger.

That evening, Taehyung decided to use the toys from Velvet Desires. The bedroom was dimly lit, the silk sheets cool as he sat on the edge of the bed, the rose-gold vibrator in hand. “Strip for me, baby,” he ordered, his voice low, his eyes dark with anticipation.

You blushed, your hands trembling as you shed your dress, revealing a sheer pink lingerie set, your nipples visible, your panties damp. “Fuck, you’re a vision,” he growled, patting his thigh. “Come here.”

You straddled his lap, your pussy throbbing as he kissed you, his tongue possessive. He turned on the vibrator, the low hum filling the room, and pressed it to your nipple through the lace, making you gasp. “Feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Y-Yes, sir,” you moaned, your hips bucking as he moved the toy to your other nipple, the vibrations sending sparks through you. He slid your panties down, exposing your dripping folds, and pressed the vibrator to your clit, the sensation intense. You cried out, clutching his shoulders, your pussy clenching.

“Look at you, soaking for me,” he murmured, circling the toy around your clit, teasing your entrance. He slipped it inside, the vibrations pulsing through your walls, and you moaned, your hips rocking. He fucked you with the toy, his other hand pinching your nipples, his lips sucking your neck.

“Sir, please,” you begged, your orgasm building. He turned up the intensity, the toy buzzing harder, and rubbed your clit with his thumb. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, and you did, screaming, your pussy gushing around the toy, your body shaking.

He wasn’t done. He shed his clothes, his cock hard and leaking, and entered you, the toy still buzzing against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his thrusts deep, the vibrations amplifying every sensation. He fucked you hard, the bed shaking, his hand gripping your throat lightly, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re mine,” he snarled, and you came again, your pussy clenching, triggering his release, his cock pulsing inside you.

Taehyung was meticulous, pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were incredible, baby,” he murmured, cleaning you with a warm cloth, his hands gentle, checking for sensitivity. He massaged your thighs, easing any strain, and offered you tea, holding the cup as you sipped. He wrapped you in a plush robe, pulling you against his chest, stroking your hair. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, the rare admission making your heart swell. He stayed, humming softly, until you drifted off, his warmth a shield.

The love between you and Kim Taehyung was a living, breathing entity—a fierce, all-consuming force that wove itself into every facet of your existence. Taehyung was a man of iron, his gruff exterior and commanding presence a fortress that only you could breach. His deep brown eyes, often cold to the world, softened when they met yours, revealing a vulnerability he guarded fiercely. You were his counterpoint—a shy, gentle soul with a heart that radiated warmth, your doe eyes and soft, wavy hair a vision of innocence that disarmed him. Your relationship, rooted in a dynamic of dominance and submission, transcended its transactional origins, blossoming into a profound connection built on trust, vulnerability, and an unspoken vow to belong to each other eternally.

Taehyung’s love was not confined to the lavish gifts that reshaped your life, though they were a testament to his devotion. The diamonds that glittered on your neck—a choker with a teardrop pendant that caught the light like a captured star—the designer dresses that clung to your curves like a lover’s embrace, the first-class trips to Paris, Santorini, and Kyoto—these were symbols of his desire to see you shine, to elevate you to the pedestal he believed you deserved. He took pride in adorning you, his fingers lingering as he fastened a sapphire bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal a contrast to the warmth of his touch. “You’re my princess,” he’d murmur, his voice a low growl, his lips brushing the pulse point at your throat, feeling it quicken under his attention. “I want the world to know how precious you are.” Each gift was chosen with care, a reflection of his meticulous nature—whether it was a first-edition novel by your favorite author, its leather binding smelling of history, or a pair of Louboutin heels that made your steps feel like a waltz, he saw you as a canvas for beauty, and he was the artist.

But beyond the material, Taehyung gave you something infinitely more precious—his time, his attention, his heart. After a day of boardroom battles, his shoulders tense, his jaw tight with the weight of his empire, he’d come home to you, and the moment his eyes found yours, the world’s chaos fell away. You were his soft spot, the one who could coax a rare, genuine smile from him, even when a deal collapsed or a rival tested his patience. He’d pull you into his lap, his arms a fortress, and bury his face in your hair, inhaling the vanilla-jasmine scent that had become his sanctuary. “You’re my peace, baby,” he’d whisper, his voice rough with emotion, his hands stroking your back, memorizing the curve of your spine. In those moments, the grumpy, intimidating tycoon melted, leaving only Tae, the man who loved you with a ferocity that stole your breath.

You adored him with a devotion that was both quiet and bold, your shyness a delicate thread that wove through your every interaction. Even after months together, you’d blush at his compliments, your cheeks flushing a soft pink as you ducked your head, murmuring, “Thank you, sir.” But beneath that timidity was a growing confidence, a strength nurtured by his unwavering support. You learned to tease him, to push the boundaries of your dynamic in playful ways. In public, you’d call him “sir” with a subtle smirk, a secret code that made his eyes darken with desire, his hand tightening on yours. In private, you’d whisper “Tae” against his lips, the name a sacred intimacy reserved for your most tender moments. You’d surprise him by wearing the lingerie he’d chosen—a sheer black set that left your nipples visible, your curves accentuated—and watch his composure falter, his cock hardening as he growled, “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

Your relationship was a dance of contrasts—his dominance and your submission, his grumpiness and your gentleness, his world of power and your world of dreams. It wasn’t perfect, and you both bore the scars of its challenges. Taehyung’s temper could flare, especially when work piled up or a business rival pushed too far. He’d snap, his voice sharp, his words cutting, and you’d feel the sting, your insecurities whispering that you weren’t enough for a man of his stature. “I’m sorry, baby,” he’d say later, his voice soft as he pulled you close, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You’re everything to me. Don’t ever doubt that.” You’d nod, your heart aching, and he’d kiss you, his lips gentle, his touch a vow to do better.

Your insecurities were a hurdle, the fear that you were too young, too inexperienced, too ordinary for someone like him. You’d lie awake some nights, the city lights filtering through your apartment’s windows, wondering if you were a fleeting obsession, a phase he’d outgrow. But Taehyung sensed these doubts, his intuition uncanny. One evening, after a quiet dinner at his penthouse, he caught you staring out the window, your expression distant. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb tracing circles.

You hesitated, your shyness making the words heavy. “I just… sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for you, sir,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You’re Kim Taehyung. And I’m just… me.”

His eyes darkened, not with anger but with resolve. He stood, pulling you to your feet, his hands framing your face. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm, each word a hammer striking your doubts. “You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re mine. You’re the one I come home to, the one who makes this empty fucking world make sense. Don’t you ever think you’re less than that.” He kissed you, hard and possessive, his tongue claiming you, his hands gripping your hips, anchoring you to him. “I love you, Y/N,” he said, the words raw, unguarded, a rare vulnerability that made your heart soar. “And I’ll spend my life proving it.”

That night, he made love to you with a tenderness that left you trembling, his touches soft, his words a litany of praise. “You’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his lips tracing the curve of your breast, sucking gently on a nipple until you gasped. “My beautiful girl.” He took his time, worshiping every inch of you, his fingers teasing your pussy until you were dripping, your clit throbbing under his touch. When he entered you, it was slow, deliberate, his cock filling you as he whispered, “You’re everything I need,” his thrusts deep, his eyes locked on yours until you both came, your bodies entwined, your hearts beating as one.

To deepen your bond, Taehyung planned a weekend getaway to Jeju Island, a surprise he sprang on you one Friday morning. “Pack a bag, baby,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand, his tailored shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of his toned chest. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

You blinked, still in your pajamas—a soft pink set he’d bought you—your hair a messy bun. “S-Sir, where are we going?” you asked, your shyness flaring at the suddenness, your fingers twisting the hem of your top.

He smirked, stepping closer to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver through you. “It’s a surprise. Just trust me.”

The private jet was a revelation, its plush interior a world away from your modest life. You sat beside him, your hand in his, your heart racing as you watched the clouds through the window, the sky a canvas of blues and whites. “This is too much, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with awe, your fingers tracing the leather armrest.

He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing your knuckles, the calloused pad a contrast to your softness. “Nothing’s too much for you,” he said, his eyes soft, a rare warmth in them. “I want you to feel special, because you are.”

The villa in Jeju was a dream—white stucco walls, glass doors opening to a private beach, the ocean a symphony of blues and greens. Taehyung was relaxed, his grumpiness absent as he pulled you onto the sand, his laughter rich and unguarded as you squealed at the cold waves lapping your feet. “Come here, baby,” he said, tugging you into his arms, kissing you as the sun set, the sky ablaze with pinks, oranges, and purples, the colors reflecting in his eyes.

That evening, in the villa’s master suite, he was playful, teasing you with featherlight touches until you were giggling, your shyness forgotten. “You’re so cute when you laugh,” he murmured, pinning you to the bed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He kissed you deeply, his hands roaming, and you felt the shift, the playful lover giving way to the dominant one. “But I think it’s time my good girl gets what she needs,” he growled, his voice sending a thrill through you, your pussy already wet, your clit pulsing with anticipation.

The bedroom was bathed in moonlight, the sliding doors open to let in the rhythmic crash of waves, the air salty and cool. Taehyung stripped you slowly, his hands deliberate as he peeled off your sundress, revealing a white lace lingerie set he’d packed—a bra that barely contained your breasts, the lace teasing your hardened nipples, and panties that clung to your damp folds. Your skin prickled under his gaze, your nipples aching, your pussy throbbing as he stepped back to admire you. “Fuck, you’re a vision,” he growled, his voice rough, his linen trousers straining against his hardening cock, the outline thick and promising.

He laid you on the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin, and kissed you, his tongue slow and possessive, tasting of the wine you’d shared at dinner. His hands roamed, cupping your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples through the lace, the friction making you moan. He unclasped your bra, his lips closing around a nipple, sucking hard, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud until you gasped, your hips bucking. “So sensitive,” he murmured, moving to your other nipple, his teeth grazing lightly, sending sparks of pleasure to your core.

He kissed a trail down your stomach, his hands spreading your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He slid your panties off, groaning at the sight of your glistening folds, your clit swollen and begging for attention. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he said, his voice dripping with praise, his breath warm against your skin. “So wet for me, so fucking needy.” He licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue flat and broad, savoring your taste—sweet and musky, a flavor he’d never tire of. He flicked your clit, the touch light but electric, and you cried out, your hands clutching the sheets, your pussy clenching with need.

He ate you out with reverence, his tongue circling your clit in lazy, deliberate patterns, then dipping to tease your entrance, lapping up your arousal. His lips closed around your clit, sucking gently, then harder, the pressure making you moan, your hips rocking against his face. He slipped two fingers inside, curling them to hit your g-spot, the stretch delicious, your walls so tight they gripped him. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled, his eyes locking on yours, his pupils blown with desire as he sucked your clit, his fingers pumping in a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, mingling with your gasps, the ocean’s roar a distant echo.

Your orgasm was building, a tight coil in your belly, and he sensed it, adding a third finger, the stretch burning slightly but oh so good, your pussy dripping onto the sheets. “Cum for me, baby,” he ordered, his voice vibrating against your clit, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking in a rhythm that drove you wild. You shattered, screaming his name, your pussy gushing as waves of pleasure crashed through you, your body convulsing, your clit throbbing under his tongue. He licked you through it, his fingers slowing, drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling, oversensitive, your pussy still pulsing with the echoes of your climax.

He rose, shedding his clothes, his toned chest gleaming in the moonlight, faint scars adding to his rugged appeal. His trousers fell, revealing his cock—thick, veined, and leaking precum, the tip flushed an angry red, so hard it curved slightly upward. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock nudging your entrance, the heat of him making you whimper. “Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice soft, checking in despite the hunger in his eyes.

“Please, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling, your eyes glassy with need, your pussy aching to be filled.

He entered you slowly, inch by agonizing inch, the stretch intense, your pussy clenching around him like a vice. You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders, the fullness overwhelming but delicious. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers bruising as his control frayed. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said, his voice strained, his forehead resting against yours, sweat beading on his brow. “So fucking perfect.”

His thrusts were deep, controlled, each one hitting your g-spot, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Your pussy was soaked, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out obscene, filling the room with a primal rhythm. You moaned, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper, your heels digging into his lower back. His restraint snapped, his thrusts growing rougher, his hips slamming into yours, the bed creaking, the headboard banging against the wall. “Take it, baby,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “Take my cock like the good girl you are.”

You screamed, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails, your pussy clenching as another orgasm built, faster and more intense. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your nipples grazing his chest, sending sparks through you. He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, rough circles, the pressure perfect. “Cum for me,” he growled, his voice a command, his thrusts relentless, his cock hitting every sensitive spot. You shattered, your pussy gushing around him, your scream echoing as your body shook, your clit pulsing under his fingers. He groaned, his thrusts faltering, and came, spilling inside you, his cock pulsing, filling you with warmth, his release so abundant it leaked out around him.

Taehyung collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. He pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing your forehead, his voice soft as he murmured, “You were incredible, baby. So fucking perfect.” He reached for a warm cloth from the bedside table, cleaning you gently, his hands tender as he wiped your thighs, careful around your sensitive folds, checking for any discomfort. “Feel okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, a flicker of concern in their depths.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, smiling shyly, your body still humming with pleasure. “Just… perfect.”

He chuckled, wrapping you in a plush blanket, pulling you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek. He stroked your hair, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, untangling the damp strands with care. “My good girl,” he murmured, kissing your temple, his lips lingering. He offered you water, holding the glass as you sipped, his arm steady around you, ensuring you felt secure. He whispered praises, his voice a low rumble— “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. You make me feel alive.” He massaged your shoulders, easing any tension, his touch gentle but firm, and stayed with you, the sound of waves a lullaby as you drifted off, his warmth a cocoon, his presence a promise of safety.

One night, after a grueling day, you found Taehyung in his home office, papers scattered across his desk, his brow furrowed, his tie loosened. You knocked softly, holding a mug of chamomile tea, the steam curling in the air. “Sir, I thought you might need this,” you said, your voice shy, your bare feet silent on the hardwood as you set the mug down, your oversized sweater—his sweater—slipping off one shoulder.

He looked up, his expression softening, the storm in his eyes calming. “Come here, baby,” he said, patting his lap, his voice a low invitation. You settled against him, your head on his shoulder, your legs curled up, and he sighed, his arms wrapping around you, his chin resting on your hair. “You always know how to make my day better,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

You hesitated, your fingers twisting the hem of his sweater, your shyness making the words tremble. “Tae, I… I’m scared sometimes,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “That you’ll get tired of me. That I’m not enough for someone like you.”

He stiffened, his hand pausing on your back, then turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Y/N, listen to me,” he said, his voice fierce, each word a vow. “You’re not just enough—you’re everything. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You’re my home, my reason to keep going.” His eyes were raw, vulnerable, a window to the man beneath the tycoon, and you felt tears prick your own. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You kissed him, soft and desperate, your hands clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpling under your fingers. “I love you too, Tae,” you whispered, the words a sacred promise. He held you close, his lips brushing your forehead, his arms a shield, and you knew your love was unshakable, a beacon in the chaos of your worlds.

Inspired by the passion of Jeju, Taehyung decided to revisit the rose-gold vibrator one evening in the penthouse, a night charged with anticipation. The bedroom was dimly lit, the city lights casting a soft glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the black silk sheets shimmering under the amber light. Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed, the vibrator in hand, its sleek surface catching the light, his eyes dark with hunger, his tailored shirt unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest, his trousers hugging his thighs, his cock already half-hard.

“Strip for me, baby,” he ordered, his voice a low growl, rich with command, sending a shiver through you. You blushed, your hands trembling as you shed your silk robe, revealing a sheer red lingerie set—a bra that left your nipples visible, the lace teasing their hardened peaks, and panties that clung to your damp folds, the fabric dark with your arousal. Your skin prickled, your pussy throbbing, your clit pulsing as he stared, his gaze predatory, his cock now fully hard, straining against his trousers.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he growled, beckoning you to the bed, his hand patting the mattress beside him. You knelt before him, your thighs pressed together, your pussy dripping as he kissed you, his tongue possessive, claiming your mouth with a hunger that made you moan. He turned on the vibrator, the low hum filling the room, a promise of pleasure that made your core clench. He pressed it to your nipple through the lace, the vibrations sharp and intense, making you gasp, your back arching, your pussy leaking onto the sheets. “Feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, his lips curving into a smirk as he moved to your other nipple, the vibrations sending sparks through you, your nipples aching, your clit throbbing with need.

He slid your panties down, tossing them aside, and groaned at the sight of your glistening folds, your clit swollen, your arousal dripping down your thighs. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his voice dripping with praise, his fingers spreading your folds, exposing you fully. He pressed the vibrator to your clit, the sensation overwhelming, a jolt of pleasure that made you cry out, your hands clutching his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He circled the toy around your clit, teasing your entrance, the vibrations pulsing through you, your pussy clenching with need.

“You look so pretty like this,” he growled, slipping the vibrator inside, the sleek toy sliding easily into your soaked pussy, the vibrations pulsing through your walls, making you moan, your hips rocking against it. He fucked you with the toy, slow and deliberate, his other hand pinching your nipples, twisting them just enough to make you whimper, his lips sucking your neck, leaving faint marks that claimed you as his. “Taking it so well, my good girl,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, watching every moan, every shudder, drinking in your pleasure.

“Sir, please,” you begged, your voice thick with desperation, your orgasm building, a tight coil ready to snap. He turned up the intensity, the toy buzzing harder, the vibrations overwhelming, and rubbed your clit with his thumb, his touch rough and precise, the dual stimulation driving you wild. “Cum for me, baby,” he ordered, his voice a command, his lips brushing your ear. You shattered, screaming his name, your pussy gushing around the toy, your body shaking, your clit pulsing under his thumb, your orgasm so intense it left you breathless, your vision spotting.

He wasn’t done. He shed his clothes, his cock thick and hard, leaking precum, the veins prominent, the tip flushed. He entered you, the toy still buzzing against your clit, the sensation amplifying every thrust, his cock filling you completely, the stretch delicious. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers bruising as he fucked you, his thrusts deep and hard, the bed shaking, the headboard banging. He gripped your throat lightly, his touch possessive but careful, his eyes intense, locked on yours. “You’re mine,” he snarled, his voice rough, his cock hitting your g-spot with every stroke, the toy’s vibrations pushing you to the edge again.

You came, your pussy clenching, gushing around him, your scream hoarse, your body trembling uncontrollably. He groaned, his thrusts erratic, and came, his cock pulsing, filling you with his release, the warmth spreading inside you, leaking out around him. He turned off the toy, tossing it aside, and collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, his arms pulling you close.

Taehyung was meticulous, his touch tender as he kissed your forehead, his voice soft. “You were perfect, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your sweat-dampened skin. He reached for a warm cloth, cleaning you gently, his hands careful as he wiped your thighs, your sensitive folds, checking for any discomfort, his fingers soothing. “Feel okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, a flicker of concern mingling with adoration.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice soft, your body still humming. “Better than okay.”

He smiled, wrapping you in a plush robe, pulling you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek. He stroked your hair, his fingers untangling the damp strands, tracing soothing patterns on your back. “My beautiful girl,” he murmured, kissing your temple, his lips lingering, his breath warm. He offered you tea, holding the cup as you sipped, his arm steady, ensuring you felt secure. He massaged your shoulders, his thumbs kneading out any tension, his touch gentle but firm, and whispered praises— “You’re everything to me, Y/N. My heart, my home.” He hummed a soft melody, his voice a lullaby, staying until you drifted off, his warmth a shield, his presence a vow of forever.

One crisp autumn night, Taehyung took you to the rooftop of his penthouse, a private oasis he’d transformed with fairy lights and a blanket strewn with pillows. The city sparkled below, the stars faint but visible, the air cool against your skin. You wore a cashmere sweater and a flowy skirt, your hair loose, catching the breeze. He pulled you onto the blanket, his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear. “All those lights, all those lives, and you’re the only one that matters to me.”

You turned, your eyes meeting his, your heart swelling. “Tae,” you whispered, your shyness fading in the intimacy of the moment. “How do you always know what to say?”

He smiled, a rare, boyish grin that made him look younger, softer. “Because it’s you,” he said, his hand cupping your cheek. “You make me want to be better, to be the man you deserve.” He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue teasing yours, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer.

You talked for hours, sharing dreams—your novels, his legacy, a future together. “I want to build something with you,” he said, his voice earnest. “A life, a home, maybe even a family someday. If you want that.”

Your breath caught, tears prickling your eyes. “I do, Tae,” you said, your voice trembling. “I want everything with you.”

He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, revealing a delicate ring—not an engagement ring, but a promise ring, a simple band with a tiny diamond. “This is my vow,” he said, slipping it onto your finger. “To love you, to protect you, to be yours, always.”

You kissed him, your heart full, the ring a tangible symbol of your bond. The night ended with you curled in his arms, the stars above a witness to your love, a love that would endure through every storm.

Back in the penthouse, the mood shifted, Taehyung’s dominance resurfacing. The bedroom was dark, the only light from the city below, the black silk sheets cool and inviting. He stood by the bed, his shirt discarded, his toned chest gleaming, his trousers low on his hips, his cock already hard. “On your knees, baby,” he ordered, his voice a velvet whip, sending a thrill through you.

You obeyed, sinking to your knees, your sheer black lingerie clinging to your curves, your nipples hard, your pussy wet. He stepped closer, his hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head back. “Look at me,” he said, his eyes dark, predatory. You met his gaze, your pussy throbbing, your clit pulsing with need.

He unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock—thick, veined, leaking precum, the sight making your mouth water. “Open,” he commanded, and you did, your lips parting, your tongue darting out. He guided his cock into your mouth, the taste salty and musky, the weight heavy on your tongue. “Good girl,” he growled, his hand guiding you, his hips thrusting gently, fucking your mouth with controlled precision.

You moaned, the vibrations making him groan, his fingers tightening in your hair. He pulled out, his cock glistening with your saliva, and lifted you to the bed, positioning you on all fours, your ass up, your pussy exposed. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured, his hands spreading your cheeks, his thumb brushing your soaked folds, teasing your clit. He entered you from behind, his cock sliding in deep, the stretch intense, your pussy clenching around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts hard, the bed creaking. He spanked you lightly, the sting blooming into pleasure, your pussy gushing. “You like that, don’t you?” he growled, spanking you again, his cock hitting your g-spot, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned, your voice breaking, your orgasm building. He reached around, rubbing your clit, his fingers rough, the pressure perfect. “Cum for me, slut,” he ordered, his voice rough, his thrusts relentless. You screamed, your pussy gushing, your body shaking, your clit pulsing under his fingers. He came, his cock pulsing, filling you with his release, the warmth spreading, leaking out around him.

Taehyung was gentle, pulling you into his arms, his lips kissing your shoulder, your neck, your forehead. “You were amazing, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft, his hands tender as he cleaned you with a warm cloth, wiping your thighs, your sensitive folds, checking for any soreness. “Feel okay?” he asked, his eyes soft, his fingers brushing your cheek.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, smiling, your body sated. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, his voice raw, pulling you against his chest, wrapping you in a blanket. He massaged your back, his thumbs kneading out any tension, his touch soothing. He offered you juice, holding the glass, his arm steady, and whispered, “You’re my everything, Y/N.” He hummed softly, his fingers tracing your spine, staying until you drifted off, his warmth a promise of forever.

Your love with Taehyung was a symphony, each note a moment of passion, vulnerability, and growth. His grumpiness, your insecurities, the challenges of your disparate worlds—they were the dissonant chords that made the melody richer. You faced them together, your bond a quiet strength that weathered every storm. He was your protector, your lover, your sugar daddy, but more than that, he was your partner, the man who saw you as his equal, his home.

As the months turned to years, you built a life together. You published your first novel, dedicated to him, and he stood beside you at the launch, his pride palpable, his hand on your lower back a silent vow. He expanded his empire, but made time for you, for quiet nights and grand adventures, for promises kept under starlit skies. The ring on your finger became an engagement ring, then a wedding band, each a symbol of a love that grew deeper, stronger, with every shared breath.

In the quiet moments, when the world was still, you’d lie in his arms, his heartbeat a steady rhythm under your cheek, and know that this—your love, your life together—was the story you’d always dreamed of writing. It was a love that endured, a flame that burned eternal, a tapestry of sugar and spice that would never fade.

Milk And Cookies, Part III of the Play Date Trilogy

➵ Jungkook’s sickly sweet ‘love’ tastes rancid on your tongue, as rancid as the lies you have to tell him to satisfy his immature moods. Perhaps, it’s time for another game of tag, but this time, you’re determined to avoid his capture…

➵ Play Date Trilogy Masterlist

➵ Warnings: Yandere Jungkook, Kidnapping, Molestation, Unhealthy thoughts, Hints of Stockholm Syndrome, Drugging

➵ Word Count: 5.2K

➵  Masterlist for all my other fics 

Keep reading

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

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 @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

Fighter (Jungkook)

Warning: This is a dead dove fic ⚠️

You've always been a fan of MMA practising boxing and jujitsu in your spare time. It was a welcome distraction from your busy life.

Hitting the gym after a stressful day of being a corporate slave did ease the tension and helped you blow off some steam.

Learning jujitsu opened up a whole new world for you as you got more immersed into the sport you took a keen liking to watching it as well.

Soon enough you and your gym buddies would meet up over the weekend to watch fight broadcasts which eventually turned into you buying tickets to live matches.

It gave you a sort of adrenaline high.

It made you forget about your worries even if it were for a little while.

This weekend was no different than any other you and your friends were seated on the ring side.

Watching new fighters try to work their way up the ranks serving as an opening act for the main event.

They generally never really caught your attention much as most of them were just clumsy amateurs  trying to make it big.

Concentrating more on your beer at hand.

The commentator was introducing a new rookie from Korea Jeon Jungkook.

Fighting on a 2 loss streak this was his last chance to prove himself otherwise as a rookie he wouldn't be able to get a fighting contract.

Out of curiosity you looked up only to find him looking directly at you nervously sliding from one leg to another which was understandble given the fact that this one fight decided if he would have a career or not. The end was near for him.

He didn't have much hope or faith in himself.

He had sacrificed his all for his dream and now he slowly saw it drifting away from his grasp.

His head was filled with a million thouts

Voices crowded his mind of self doubt and anxiety as he made his way into the ring.

The sound was deafening he felt as if his head would explode.

Until suddenly everything went silent he became painfully aware of every detail in complete silence as he locked eyes with you.

It was as if for the first time in a long while he felt at ease.

He felt grounded

His breath leveled back to normal

The tremor in his hand subsided as he stood there entranced by you.

Until he heard the bell ring.

The referee pulling him into the centre of the ring starting the fight.

The first round went better than expected he was able to land a couple of punches causing some damage to his opponent.

He dominated the first round demonstrating his skill and impressive striking.

The second round he was grounded by his opponent jungkook knew he excelled in striking but lacked in wrestling and ground work

Using his weakness against him sending a powerful blow to his face which resulted in a deep gash.

With blood rushing down his face clouding his sight.

The fight had brought the audience to the edge of their seat the last round would decide who would win.

Jungkook was exhausted and bloody and beaten maybe it was best to accept defeat at this point things weren't going his way either way.

If he didn't win this fight he wouldn't have anything to return to he gave up all his savings to recieve training.

He had been alone all his life his parents died when he was about 5 leaving him to his grandfather who ran a boxing gym.

This is where he grew up this was all he ever knew ever since he was a child.

It wasn't soon when his grandfather too passed away leaving him all alone yet again. He promised that he would become world champion one day it was either that or he wouldn't want to live.

Without this life wasn't worth living.

The voice of self doubt took over once again he felt defeated he didn't know how much longer he could go on.

But they were once again silenced .

Silenced by your cheers it was the first time in his life that someone cheered for him.

You a complete stranger believed in him at that more than anyone ever did in his entire life.

At that moment you were all he needed your cheers gave him the strength to fight the last round knocking his opponent to the ground earning him the first victory in his professional career.

After the event he tried to find you in the crowd but you were no where in sight his lucky charm.

He knew he had to find you.

The days that followed he started training with a new found energy it was like he was a whole new man.

He gained confidence and knew that he had to work on his technique especially his wrestling.

His coach recommended a local jujitsu gym where he should begin training.

With his gym bag hanging on his shoulder he stepped into the gym.

And began sparring on the mat for about an hour or so not really caring about the building up fatigue.

Nearly spent he was about to call it a day until he saw something flash over the corner of his eye

He watched as you and your sparring partner giggled while tossing each other around.

It was a strange experience each time he saw it was like he was reborn.

It felt as though he was given a second chance at life ever since he saw you.

He couldn't work up the courage to speak to you that day so he tried his best to impress with his fighting skills despite being exhausted he sparred until you left in hopes of seeing you for as long as he could.

Packing up for the day he was just about to head back home as his phone began to buzz in his back pocket. To his surprise it was his manager informing him that his latest win had landed him a fighting contract and that he was scheduled for an upcoming fight that would offer his a decent pay check.

He was extatic things were finally turning around for him. He credited this win again to you.

It couldn't possibly be a coincidence he saw you the first time he won and now he again met you the day he got a contract.

He was sure that you were his lucky charm.

His suspicion was proved right when in his next fight there you were in the front row

That day he won by knockout and he won his next fight as well similarly with you right by his side.

It could no longer be a coincidence in his mind you were cemented as his lucky charm and he felt that he wouldn't win without as you sit obliviously to his strange theories by the ring you begin to feel a little uncomfortable with the way he is starting at you as if you would disappear the second he looks away.

Bruhsing it off as him probably being disoriented after the fight you didn't think too much of it.

But soon the feeling was harder to shake off he started showing up to your gym more often training when you would train offering to be your sparring partner which you kindly declined.

Given that you preferred to stick to your friends he wouldn't let any man near you either

His possessiveness was starting to creep you out. He wasn't your boyfriend but would tell everyone that he was and when you confronted him about this he told you that it would help keep the creeps away from you.

But who was going to tell him that he was the one creeping you out.

It didn't stop at that he would often wait until you finished to walk you to your car in the guise of keeping you safe or the way he would constantly borrow your stuff saying that he had forgotten his at home.

Soon things like your clothes started to go missing from your gym bag as he snuck them out as souvenirs.

As he clutched a bouquet of roses he followed you to your car today was the day he would finally confess and make you his.

He patiently waited for you to finish your session as he walked you out as usually but before you got into your car.

He stopped you.

You saw his face change to a shade of pink as he looked like a giddy school boy.

He held out the bouquet of roses to you confessing his love and undying affection for you.

It was sweet and he looked so hopefull but you couldn't lie to him and tell him you felt the same.

You tried to be as gentle as you could trying to let him down.

But he was in denial he didn't understand how you couldn't see that you were meant to be you were soulmates it was destiny.

He wasn't relenting so you just ripped off the bandage.

"Listen I said I don't like you it don't understand why that's so hard to get into that thick skull of yours leave me the fuck alone"

He stood there stunned as you stormed off slaming your car door and promptly driving off.

You saw his reflecting in your rear view mirror his eyes were glossed over and he looked like a kicked puppy with his head held low the bouquet of roses that he had so carefully picked out now layed on the cold concrete floor.

He watched as you disappeared off into the night.

It was obvious that you were playing hard to get. That's okay he would just smother you with love until you didn't say yes. Otherwise he would just have to turn to move unpleasant measures at least unpleasant for you he would surely enjoy what he would do to you.

Everyday he would show up at opening time at the gym and leave at closing in hopes of catching you but as the days went by you didn't show up.

You thought it was best to lay low for a couple of days for the awkwardness to wear off.

When he couldn't find you at the gym he started to show up at your office just waiting outside the parking lot waiting for you.

You could only avoid him for so long, soon he began to show up wherever you went it was starting to scare you.

You reached your breaking point when one day you were sleeping you heard the door to your apartment rattle as if someone was trying to break in.

You could hear him on the other side yelling at you to open the door.

" Open the fucking door. Why do you have to make this so difficult.

We are meant to be why can't you just accept it?

I'll do anything for you just tell me what I need to do.

I'll do anything just open the door I just want to talk to you.

I'll treat you so well no one can love you the way I do those jerks that you flirt with at the gym can't love the way I do.

What we have is something special they wouldn't understand.

Open the fucking door or I'm going to break it down. "

You saw the hinged of the door begin to come off as he started to break it down.

You were sure he was going to murder you tonight if it wasn't for security showing up

It took five men to subdue with great difficulty.

Eventually the cops had to be called to restrain him.

He was let out of jail with nothing more than a slap on the wrist as the fighting leage didn't want their top new prospect to not show up for his fights.

The cops adviced you to leave town and lay low for a while because there was nothing they could do about him as he hadn't hurt you yet.

And the officials at the fight leage would simply bail him out each time as his fights were starting to bring in money.

You packed up your essentials in a hurry and headed to your parents home in the country side to get as far away from him as possible.

He was warned by his manager to not get into trouble for a while as he had a big fight coming up that would bring him close to fighting for the championship.

He trained hard every single day maybe if he became champion you would finally love him.

Even when he coughed up blood from overtrainig

He never stopped he had to win.

When fight day came his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd for your face.

You surely couldn't have abandoned him now.

You were his lucky charm

The calm in an ocean of noise

Without you hear he wouldn't win.

He has to have you

How could you betray him like this all you had to do was show up.

The fight commenced and he was on a 4 fight winning streak he couldn't risk losing it when he was climbing up the ranks.

He gave it his all and nearly lost the fight the only reason he won was because of a technicality and a penalty awarded to his opponent he was beat up and his ego was severely bruised.

He blamed his near loss on you how was he supposed to win without his lucky charm.

His delusion was only further proved by the outcome of the fight.

He began to become superstitious and was convinced that it would bring bad luck if he didn't have you.

His only dream in life was to be world champion and he wasn't about to let your refusal stand in his way.

He had to take matters into his own hands he had to make discussions for you because you clearly don't know what's good for you.

Without wasting even a second still covered in blood and sweat he pulled on a jacket and fired up his truck to your home.

He knew where you parents lived he would occasionally show up at night to watch you through the window when he couldn't sleep your presence calmed him down.

He knew he had to lure you out some way or another.

That's when a sinister idea popped into his mind.

He took out a burner phone a dialled your number.

When he heard your voice greet him.

" I'm not going to repeat myself.

Be a good girl and come out. We are going on a little trip just you and I.

If you want to be bad and stay inside I'll just simply come in and drag you out but if I have to do that I can't guarantee the safety of your parents.

They are old and weak you wouldn't want them to get hurt now would you.

I certainly wouldn't mind sending them to an early grave so now be a good Little girl and come with me "

You knew he wasn't joking he was more than capable of killing a grown man let alone your aging parents and living in the country side meant that you couldn't even call for help by the time you did he would have easily murdered your entire blood line.

You had no option but to comply as you snuck out through the back door trying not to wake your parents up maybe some day you'd be able to see them again if he didnt end your life this instant.

Sneaking out you were met with his face a sinister grin plastered across his face.

It was still bloody with most of the blood having dried down you assumed he left the ring directly to find you it was only a matter of time.

He opened the door for you shoving you in as you hesitated.

You were paralyzed with fear he was like a wild animal that was pushed into a corner and wounded he was unpredictable.

All you could do now was comply.

As he sped through the empty highways you knew that if you didn't escape now you wouldn't ever leave.

When his eyes were glued to the road ahead you hesitantly unlocked to lock to the passenger side door.

Just as you were about to open the door to the moving car and make your escape.

You felt his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a bone crushing grip slamming your head into the dashboard effectively knocking you out cold.

He pulled you back and rested your head back onto the seat.

Gently brushing a few strands of hair off your face as he occasionally admired as he drove off.

You looked so peaceful like this so calm and serine he could spend his entire life admiring you.

After an hours drive you finally reached your destination it was a quaint little house just outside the city he had bought it with his first major pay check for you.

He had invisioned his entire future with you by his side today was only the beginning of your life together.

He couldn't help but smile in content as he carried your unconscious body into the threshold of your new home.

He layed you down on a soft mattress in a room he had designed to your liking the sheets matching to the walls painted in your favourite colour.

Slowly coming back to consciousness.

The side of your head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it.

You were slightly disoriented as you tried to take in your surroundings the soft mattress underneath you did little to provide you with comfort.

What little sense of safety you felt vanished as you saw him at sitting beside you running his calloused hands across your naked skin.

"I hope you don't mind I had to get you out of those filthy clothes. It wouldn't have had to be this way if you understood my love for you I never would have had to go this far."

A chill randown your spine as he began to go on and on about how he bought this house for you and how much he was looking forward to spend the rest of your lives together.

"I've done so much for you. I keep you safe.

I bought you this house that matches your liking I all but worship the ground you walk on don't you think I deserve something in return for all I have done for you. "

He said as he straddled your hips.

He tried to fight him off all only to land one punch on him reopening a cut that he had sustained in the fight as blood gushed down his face onto yours

You watched in horror as he seemed completely unfazed by it.

Infact he almost seemed excited by the sight of it.

" Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight out of you"

He grabbed both of your wrists with one one hand pinning you down.

His other hand roaming your body groping you as he pleased.

Ripping off the final coverings from your body leaving you bare for his hungry eyes to shamelessly eye fuck you.

He leaned down to kiss you to which you turned away.

The second time he tried his patience began to wear off with your non compliance wearing his patience thin.

He wasn't having any of it.

Before you could try to push him off you felt a searing slap land on your face the force of which whipped your head to the side.

Before you could even react to it another one followed then another he slapped you around like a rag doll mercilessly raining pain on you he only stopped when you tasted metallic blood on your tounge seeping in from your cheeks.

The fear in your eyes turned him on the fact that he has so much power over you at any given moment he could take your life without even having to try.

You were completely at his mercy and he wasn't feeling very generous today.

You trembled under him knowing that it was best to just comply.

"If you behave this can be a pleasurable experience for the both of us , and if you don't well I don't really care. I'll get what I want either way."

Having you immobilised with fear just made it easier for him to take advantage of you.

He still loved you in his own sick and twisted way and wanted you to feel good too.

He slide down your body grabbing your hips sliding them down to eye level as he spread apart your legs.

His breath fanning over your cunt making you shiver.

You tried to close them but either hand on your thighs held them down like chains.

He teased you gently running his toung through the expanse on your sex.

Slowly building up his pace while lapping you up.

His fingers teased your entrance as you bucked your hips towards him to get some sort of contact our of desperation he loved how needy you had gotten as he ate you out.

Edging you until you were on the verge of tears begging him to let you realse.

He loved the pained look of desperation on your face it made him feel needed.

He would move his tounge skillful working you up to your high only to stop just before you came.

He did this for what seemed like hours.

Teasing you torturing you with pleasure.

The frustration building up in your body was clouding your vision you needed to release one way or another it had gotten to a point where it was almost painful.

He himself could feel his cock strain against the fabric of his underwear.

Big and angry just waiting to burry itself into your soft warm walls.

As much as he enjoyed watching you be a desperate slut.

He needed some action himself.

Moving up caging you between his arms.

You didn't have much energy left in you with the assault he earlier did and the hours of edging you were completely spent.

As he slowly tried to fit his massive girth inside of you.

It was a tight fit as you tried weekly pushing him away telling him it was too much to handle.

He reassured you that you would be fine and to be a good girl and take whatever he gives you.

Once fully inside it felt as if he was splitting you open.

He tried his best to go as slow as he could but the months of pent up frustration and rage all led up to this moment.

He couldn't hold it in anymore as he drilled you into the mattress.

Your finger nails drew crimson marks all along his back as he brought you from one orgasm to another barely giving you rest between them.

It was like he was in a daze finally getting his hands on what he so desperately crave

Holy Grail Fics || Yandere

My favorite authors and recommended stories, broadly separated into categories for when you want to scratch a particular itch.

Masterlist of Lists | One Shots and Series (Mostly Plot) | Smut | Yandere

Listmaker's Note: Yandere is a broad category in which someone starts out sweet and kind, but becomes obsessive and destructive – driven by their love for someone else. Sometimes yandere characters only pretend to be kind in the beginning, and sometimes they start out obsessive with no grace period at all. In any case, there's just something delightfully unsettling about yandere stories once you approach the turning point and realize with dread that all of your initial assumptions were wrong, and you've gotten yourself in way over your head.

P. S. Given the genre, violence (physical and mental) are often present in these stories. Please read the authors' warnings carefully and do not read anything that you have hesitations about, as some stories get very dark and unlike most fan fics, many will not have happy endings.

@bang-tan-bitches [masterlist]

Beloved (MYG) | M | historical au, Daechwita au, wedding, noble woman reader, Emperor YG, politics, ☠️

"Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win."

@chaoticpuff17 [masterlist]

Bex has imagined up a wonderfully twisted mafia au with Namjoon at the helm and the other members following closely behind. I recommend reading the A Dangerous Game series and it's sequel series, When the Chips Are Down first, then the oneshot fics for all the other members.

A Dangerous Game Series and (KNJ ft. OT7, Got7) | M | mafia au, "undercover" agent reader, mafia boss NJ, police officer Jackson Wang (Got7), rival gang member Mark Tuan (Got7), kidnapping, NC, ☠️

The first time you meet Namjoon is when he has you kidnapped in the middle of the night. He knows that you singlehandedly toppled a criminal empire on the other side of the world... but now you're on his turf and playing a very different game.

When the Chips Are Down Series (KNJ ft. OT7, Got7) | M | ongoing, mafia au, see warnings above

This series is a sequel to the A Dangerous Game series above – no further description because I don't want to accidentally give away spoilers!

Suga, We're Going Down Series (MYG ft. KTH) | ongoing, college au, college student reader, rapper YG, sugar daddy YG, rich TH, reader has a daughter

Watching your breathtaking cello performance was exactly what Yoongi needed to get over his writer's block, and for that he promises to give you everything.

@chinkbihh [masterlist]

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci (KTH) | CEO TH, assistant reader

"Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now."

Quarter Quell Series (JJK) | ongoing, Hunger Games au, thriller, gore, ☠️

When your name is drawn to participate in the Hunger Games, you know your fate is sealed. What you don't know is why Jeon Jungkook, the District Two tribute who is by far the favorite to win the Games, is so obsessed with you.

@cosmostae [masterlist]

Shadows (KTH, JJK) | M | consensual NC, exhibitionism, ☠️

"Engaged in the darkest fantasy you’ve ever had in public, you should not be surprised when you get caught by a stranger. But you’re surprised when he joins in…"

Devil's Child (JJK ft. MYG) | noona reader, stepbrother JK, ☠️

Your younger stepbrother grows from a spoiled brat to a star athlete who refuses to let go of his most precious trophy – you.

Trigger Happy (JJK) | M | mafia au, undercover cop reader, mafia boss JK, ☠️

While working undercover in a strip club to infiltrate the mafia, you know that the kingpin, Jeon Jungkook, is not your target. However, you might be his, and he's got you in his crosshairs.

@darkestcorners [masterlist]

The Phantom (KTH) | M | horror movie au (Phantom of the Megaplex), paranormal au, movie theater worker reader, actor TH, thriller, ☠️

The Phantom is a classic 1930's horror movie starring Kim Taehyung, a serial killer both on and off screen. Every so often, people claim that there is a new victim in the movie who wasn't there before. But movies can't actually be cursed... right?

Polarity Series (JJK) | M | ongoing, college au, reader has severe anxiety, JK is your best friend's bf, rich JK

The first time you meet Jungkook, you're happy that your best friend finally found someone who will treat her right. But as it turns out, both of you are liars – Jungkook isn't happy with his new relationship, and neither are you.

@go1denjeon [masterlist]

Dura Lex, Sed Lex Series (KTH ft. JJK) | ongoing, law school au, rich TH, tattoo artist JK, best friend JK

Taehyung appears to be your knight in shining armor after you lose your scholarship. But then again, he doesn't believe in waiting for opportunities to fall in his lap... he creates them.

@jkeuphoriadreamland [masterlist]

The Good Boy Series (KTH ft. PJM) | M | librarian au, new librarian TH, ☠️

Taehyung is a cute new librarian at work – but what past is he running from, and who can you trust?

@sluttyandere [masterlist]

School F*ckin Sucks Series (PJM, KTH, JJK) | M | ongoing, high school au, class president reader, student council president JM, bad boy TH, transfer student JK, NC, blackmail

Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?

@99liners [masterlist]

Tatemate Series (OT7) | M | ongoing, detective JK, surgeon TH, professor NJ; SJ, HS, and JM upcoming

A series of connected one shots, each featuring a member and their wife.

The only thing worse than dealing with your cold, demanding husband is knowing that he has equally twisted friends.

Bonus: Tales from the Depths

I don't generally consider myself squeamish, but some stories are so dark and twisted, or feel so real, that I could only read through them once – before setting my phone down and thoroughly reassessing my life. You've been warned.

A Dangerous Game Series (JJK) by @goldngguk | the most dangerous game au, college au, rich JK, ☠️

When Jungkook finally takes you home to meet his parents, you find yourself playing the most dangerous game...

Break My Mind's Eye Series (JJK ft. KTH, MYG) by @flowerwrites06 | M | mafia au, coerced marriage au, fashion designer reader, brother TH, kingpin JK, undercover cop YG, addiction

You would do anything for your brother, Taehyung, including getting married to the man he owes thousands of dollars to so he can get the help he needs.

Taking Over You Series (JJK) by @go1denjeon | M | college au, idol au, intern reader, idol JK, stalking, NC, ☠️

When you take a summer internship on the other side of the world, the last thing you expect is to meet the very person you've been running from.

Code of Conduct Series and Epilogue Series (JJK) by @go1denjeon | M | mafia au, kidnapping, ☠️

"Jeon Jungkook lived by a certain code: never associate yourself with the Mins. But when he set his eyes on you, he may just have to break it."

Darknets Series (JJK) by @darkestcorners | M | ongoing, trafficking

"You should have known better than to chat with strangers online..."

Illicit Photography Series and Epilogue Series (MYG, JJK) by @jkeuphoriadreamland and @sweetbunnykook (Epilogue) | M | college au, professor reader, professor YG, photography student JK

Jungkook, one of your best students, wants more than an A in your class.

⋆. 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 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 & 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓

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

♰word count; 4.6k

♰genre; smut, horror, angst

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

prev//next

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talkin' about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeon, stop!"

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

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

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

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

"You're the Bell Ranch kid."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you just say?"

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

"I needed the money," Jimin muttered stressed.

"The fuck you needed that money for?"

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

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

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

Jimin laughed, glassy eyes threatening to ooze saline waters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin nodded. There was no time to lose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

"Billie, it's John, sweetheart."

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Night, Johnnie. I love you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"At least the blood stopped."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too, pumpkin."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up."

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

Jungkook chuckled. Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

Out.

Your purple face, swollen eyes, crimson lips.

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

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

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

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

"Mm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm scared, please-"

"Shhh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Keep going."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pink hearts & black clouds | jjk. masterlist

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, introvert x extrovert, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : tbc.

↠ Warnings : alcohol consumption, swearing, mental health, explicit sexual content (each drabble will outline specific warnings)

↠ A/n : Hi there ; welcome to the masterlist for PHBC 🫶🏻 seven different oneshots to show you a seven different ways this gorgeous couple love one another. Each chapter can be read as a standalone. I hope you enjoy these short snippets of their lives 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

↠ Status : 0 / 7 released (coming soon) || teaser || prologue

❧ chapter 01 - lip gloss & leather

❧ chapter 02 - lace & chains

❧ chapter 03 - soft & hard

❧ chapter 04 - strawberries & cigarettes

❧ chapter 05 - pretty in pink & brooding in black

❧ chapter 06 - glitter meets gloom

❧ chapter 07 - bubbles & bruises

❧ FAQ

↠ Release dates?

• I will post when I am able to! Mainly on weekends / when I am off work ♡.

↠ Taglist?

• Send me an ask or comment down below.

↠ How do the main characters look in this fic?

• That is completely up to you! Personally, I imagined Golden era!jk. Here is the moodboard which provides you with an insight to both the main characters & the couple themselves!

↠ Side characters?

• Bangtan members - Jungkook’s friendship group (mainly Jm & Th)

↠ Requests?

• I will take requests for this couple once the series is officially complete ♡.

Your favorite yandere jungkook ffs? Please recommend some. I am craving for some dark content.

Maybe different from the yandere author writers you have answered before!

Kill to kiss you

White pearl

We belong together

Deception

Millisecond

Watched

My cruel kidnapper

Even in death

Cat and mouse

Dirty boy

@/worldwidemochiguy’s jungkook masterlist.