Hi! My nickname is chuchai and I'm fairly new to writing tumblr. I write for mostly for ateez and enha but I would be open to writing for other groups that I stan. Requests are open so feel free to ask me anything (´• ω •`)ﾉ
Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse.
Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader; guest appearances from Soobin and Yeonjun from TXT
Genre: crack, my piss attempt at humor, hongjoong my poor guy is such a simp god bless his heart
Warnings: swear words, witchcraft technically
WC: 2.4k (I got carried away, oops)
a/n: This monster of a chapter was birthed by my sleep-deprive brain from travelling for the holidays. I'm glad I put it out before christmas though because I wanna write something christmas themed before christmas day. This fic is purely fiction and does not portray what the characters are like irl. Feedbacks, reblogs, and comments are also deeply appreciated and highly encouraged! and as always please enjoy :))
Read part 1 here ; Read simp!hwa here
Seonghwa didn’t like getting involved in other people’s lives (he’s lying to himself, really. The aries in him loves making people his puppets). But seeing his best friend and dorm mate, Hongjoong, pouting on his bed whining about his sim’s wife not reciprocating his feelings, he just knew he had to intervene. If he hears Backburner by Niki playing one more time on Hongjoong’s speaker, he’s going to go clinically insane himself.
“Okay, Hongjoong you gotta stop this! C’mon get up!” Hongjoong is currently face down on his mattress, mumbling along to the song for the nth time this week.
The Goo Goo Dolls are dead to me the way you should be too
“Joong, I swear-”
But you bring them up along with how much I fucking miss you!
Hongjoong continues to mumble along the words to the song, almost like he’s drunk. And after this, Seonghwa swears he needs a drink too.
“Look, maybe you’re a bit of a fixer upper. I was too! But now look at me, I’m in a loving relationship and I couldn’t be happier.” he still doesn’t seem convinced at whatever peptalk Seonghwa is trying to feed him. But he does stop his singing so it’s a win in Seonghwa’s eyes.
“I’m gonna let you in on a little trade secret of mine. As much as I look like the total rizzler that I am. I didn’t exactly get the girl on my looks and charm alone.” Hongjoong furrows his brows at this. Ignoring the fact that his friend just used the word “rizzler” unironically, he was desperate at this point.
“An Etsy witch?!” he looks at Seonghwa, unimpressed at the boba-eyed boy.
“Look, you just gotta trust me on this one okay?” Hongjoong sighs, I mean he was desperate. His conjured up future of you with his poodle and 2 goldfish was hanging in the balance right now. So he decided to humor Seonghwa.
“We just gotta use a little bit of manifestation. Alexa play Take a Chance with Me by Niki!”
With a newfound determination in his step, Hongjoong walks to class that day with one goal in his head. He had to figure out what your name was.
“I have to find out her name?” Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows at the instructions.
“Well, yeah. Seulgi needs to know her name for the ritual to be done correctly.” He replies in a matter-of-fact kind of tone.
“Why can’t I just use that pink stone thingy you used?”
“Because she has to wear it for 3 days. And, no offense, but I doubt that she would accept anything from you, Romeo.” Seonghwa pats him on the back. “But this will work, trust!”
“You better be right, Hwa.”
When he walks into the amphitheater, you are sitting in your usual spot typing away at something on your laptop. You were wearing a green beanie this time, seeing as the weather was getting colder. Hongjoong couldn’t help but swoon a little on the inside at you. You looked like a cute brussel sprout and he just wanted to bite you (but of course in a loving and sweet kind of way.)
“Hi!” Hongjoong starts. “We talked for a little bit last week… I don’t know if you remember.” He shyly smiles at you.
Oh, you remembered. He was the same guy who just randomly shouted at you before the class started. He was cute, you’ll admit that. He had a sort of nerdy vibe to him that you usually found cute in a guy. If only it weren’t for the piss poor first impression he pulled. You notice he still had that jittery look in his eyes, the same one he had last week. You didn’t like where this was going.
“Oh, I remember.” You give him a tight smile.
“Oh!” he manages to blurt out, albeit very loudly. This startles you and makes you jump a little in your seat. And this also causes a ruckus in the amphitheater causing eyes to look at the interaction between the both of you again. Great, you think. So much for keeping a low profile.
“My name is Kim Hongjoong. Can I ask you what your name is?” He looks down at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. He really was cute, you think. But you hated all the eyes on you. You wanted this to end as quickly as possible and return to your peace and quiet. But you also didn’t want to embarrass this guy in front of the whole class. So, you do the next best thing.
“My name is Wendy Lu.” You give him a fake name.
I mean, what he won’t know won’t kill him right? You get him off your back. He gets to search up some finance major that frequents the cafe that you work at. And in your defense, she was totally cute! She also had a caffeine addiction but you digress.
“Nice to meet you, Wendy!” Hongjoong rushes off to find his seat at the back of the room with a beaming smile on his face. This Etsy witch Seulgi sure did have her work cut out for her. But I mean, if she could get Seonghwa a girlfriend, she could totally get me one, right?
“So, her name is Wendy Lu. I came up to her this morning and asked for her name, and she totally smiled at me! I got this one in the bag.” Hongjoong is beaming with glee at Seonghwa.
They’re walking down a part of town that is a bit of a ways away from their usual path to their dorm but they had to make a detour to go to Seulgi’s physical store to get some supplies. She wrote down some instructions for Hongjoong to follow in his ritual for love spell casting and then they were off on their merry way back to their dorms. Unfortunately, Seonghwa had a 10-page essay he had due that very night to which he was very sorely behind on.
“Can we go grab some coffee first? Either I’m going to finish this essay or it will finish me.” Seonghwa sighs, a stressed look on his face as he turns to the closest cafe that was on their route.
That’s when they are greeted with you manning the cash register of the cafe. There’s a line at the cash register because this is usually when the cafe is at its busiest and you don’t even notice them coming in. Hongjoong is trying to contain himself and keep his chill. But he can’t help it if you look so effortlessly beautiful with your hair tied up and in your cute barista apron. The man is basically shooting heart eyes your way but you’re too busy taking orders.
“My usual, please. To go.” Wendy Lu tries to give you the best smile she can, but it just ends up looking like a twitch on her face. Midterms must be coming up, you concluded. Sucks to be a finance major. One iced americano with 4 espresso shots, coming right up. You finish ringing in her order and give the ticket away for your co-worker to start on her drink.
“Hello, what can I get for you today?” You bring your head up from the cash register and feel a dread settle into your stomach. It was the guy from earlier. Hongjoong, if you recall correctly.
“I’ll have a Vanilla latte, and a pistachio bagel please.” Seonghwa replies.
“Oh, and uhm. I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato with a tuna melt.” Hongjoong adds.
“Will you have this for dine-in or take-out?”
“We’ll have it for take-out, please.”
And as you finish ringing up their orders, you forget one crucial detail that just managed to slip your mind. Wendy Lu.
“Iced americano for Wendy Lu!” your co-worker, Soobin, shouts.
Both boys look at you with confused eyes as Wendy Lu grabs her drink from Soobin and rushes off. You try to ignore the tension in the room but Hongjoong blurts out, “I thought you were Wendy Lu?”
“Well, Wendy is a pretty common name.” You just nervously giggle off and hope he doesn’t press further.
“Hey, Y/n. Yeonjun needs help rolling out the croissant dough in the kitchen.” Soobin interrupts the awkward conversation. “I’ll finish that up for you, go help him.”
“Right.” You give them one last glance before walking over to the kitchen.
And we are back to square one with Hongjoong. Well, not necessarily square one, more like square one and a half. Seonghwa likes to look on the brighter side of things.
“Hey, at least you know her name! And besides, this ritual thing will still work, so what if she gave you a fake name at first.” Seonghwa tries to console his distraught dorm mate.
“When you become best man at my wedding, can you leave this part out of your speech please?” Hongjoong just lies on the floor and pouts at him.
“Oh, the part where you crashed and burned the first time you met your future wife? Sure.” Seonghwa deadpans at his friend.
“Now, just do the ritual, my guy. I have an essay to write and you have a girl to wife up.” Seonghwa motions for him to get up.
“Fine.” Hongjoong gets up and goes to get his supplies for the ritual but notices that the instructions for the ritual are gone. He furrows his eyebrows and digs through his things trying to find them but they don’t seem to be anywhere. He asks Seonghwa if he’s seen them anywhere but he claims to not even have held the paper. This confirms a theory he’s had in his head that sends a storm of unease to his stomach.
He remembers putting his stuff out while waiting for his tuna melt to be heated up. The last time he remembers seeing that pink sheet of paper was at the cafe table. He had to go back to that cafe. He checks the time and it’s around the time that it closes, if he remembers correctly from the door. If he rushes now, he could get to the cafe right before it closes.
So he rushes out the door yelling out that he was going to the cafe, leaving a very confused Seonghwa to attempt to finish his essay.
Hongjoong arrives at the cafe on a mission to find that pink-ruled piece of paper that holds the key to his happiness. The cafe is deserted at this point, the door sign says “closed” but he can still see you and your two other co-workers cleaning up the establishment. He gulps.
Here goes nothing.
He knocks on the door to the shop and points to the locked door.
You and Soobin shoot each other a look and Soobin walks up to the door.
“So that was lover boy, I assume?” Soobin glances down at you as you wipe down the counters behind the cash register.
“Oh scarf guy?” Yeonjun pipes up.
“Yeah. Kim Hongjoong.” You tell them. “Guy seems sweet and all but he brings so much attention during class. Made me want to disappear into my seat.”
“Well, seems like lover boy’s got it bad. He was going to cast a spell on you.” Soobin says trying to imitate a dracula accent.
“What? No way.” Yeonjun dismisses him.
“Look. He left it at the table they were at. Even went to that trinket shop down at the corner next to the deli. Poor guy was going to get Wendy Lu to fall head over heels in love with him.” He waves a pink piece of paper around.
You grab it and look at what’s written down and stare in utter disbelief. Was he really willing to go this far?
“Man’s a simp if I’ve ever seen one.” Soobin concludes.
“He just doesn’t know when to give up. I mean, you were pretty straightforward the first time around. Take the L, my guy.” Yeonjun shakes his head.
“Hmmm, well I thought it was a bit harsh. But he is persistent. I'll give him that.” Soobin shrugs.
“Ugh, I was too harsh, wasn’t I?” You ask, to no one in particular. But you didn’t mean to be harsh. Being the center of attention was never your favorite thing and it brought out a side of you that had no filter.
“Are you forgetting the fact that he hired an Etsy witch to make him fall in love with you?” Yeonjun reminds you.
“Well, I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Pink rocks and weird drawings? Be fucking for real.”
And as luck would have it, a knock on the door stops your discourse. It was Hongjoong. You and Soobin share a look and he goes to tell him that the place is closed but then you stop him.
“Wait, Soob. I need to talk to him.” You stop Soobin as he reaches for the door knob.
Hongjoong panics when you see him walk over to the door knob. Oh God, she knows. She’s gonna think I’m some creep! I mean, on paper it does seem creepy that some guy who she’s talked to like thrice has some instructions from some dodgy Etsy witch on how to make her fall in love with him but he swears he means no harm.
You go over to open the door.
“Hey, Hongjoong.” You start. You wipe your sweaty hands off using your apron. Confrontation was never your best feat, but it seems like the universe had different plans for the both of you that evening.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for being kinda harsh to you the first time we talked. You seem like a sweet guy, but you kinda put me on the spot and I was pretty uncomfortable back then….” You explain yourself.
“O-oh! Well, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I never meant to do that I swear! I just, you’re…. Pretty.” He shyly smiles at you.
This is the first time you are actually able to take a good look at him and you start to notice little details you never did. The slope of his nose, the glasses that frame his face, the dimples that decorate his cheeks, and the one finger he has painted with nail polish. He was kinda cute, you concluded. And as he calls you pretty, you can’t help the heat that rises up your cheeks at his confession.
“Well, if you wanna, we could do it the old fashioned way. You know, the one where there’s no Etsy witch involved.” You shoot a small smile his way when he starts floundering and trying to come up with a way to explain himself.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
Hongjoong walks back to the dorm with a dumb smile on his face. Seonghwa was so totally gonna be his best-man at his wedding.
Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse.
Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader
Genre: crack, technically angst?? but it gets better in the next part I swear, fluff honestly god bless hongjoong's heart
Warnings: none that I can think of tbh but if i missed anything please lmk!
WC: 808
a/n: I am finally back and this is my proof of life. had a bajillion exams and things to study for so I took an unintended hiatus but I finally have time since it's christmas break and I am so excited to be extending the ateez simpverse! as always, none of the characters' behaviors in this fic represent their personalities in real life. and reblogs and feedbacks are always deeply appreciated and keep me motivated to write these things so they are highly encouraged :))
Nerd!joong takes a long look at himself in the mirror, he’s sporting a brand new letterman jacket over his simple blue jeans and white t-shirt. He looked put together. So why was he so nervous today?
Well, it’s a bit of a long story. You see, today was not just any ordinary weekday for Hongjoong. Today, he will finally muster up the courage to talk to a girl he’s had the fattest crush on since he first laid his eyes on you in his introductory Philosophy class.
With a jittery kick in his step. He gets ready for his commute to school, calling out to any deity out there for some good luck.
“God, what’s got you so worked up today? If you shake any harder, you’ll be putting Mrs. Hong’s rose toy to shame.” Seonghwa points out his nervous body language. Hongjoong is staring at the entrance to the amphitheater with laser focus. He’s fidgeting with his fingers and his legs are bouncing up and down.
“I’m just waiting for her to get here…” Hongjoong trails off, not daring to look away from the door for more than a few seconds.
“So, you’re really going to go for it? I mean, from what I hear she can be a little cutthroat, Joong.” Seonghwa warns him, but his words shoot through his ear and out the opposite.
There were rumors going around that you were not exactly all sunshine and rainbows. You seemingly had a neutral face plastered on your face, only showing a smile every now and then with your small circle of friends. Seonghwa would describe you as “such a scorpio” with your sharp gaze, almost resembling a black cat in a way. Jongho and Wooyoung had heard that you were quite blunt and straight to the point. And although there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, they feared it may be too much for Hongjoong’s heart. But alas, he was smitten with you.
From the way you look so cute when you’re concentrating while taking notes, or how you tugged at your sleeves when the weather grew colder. So when you finally walk through those doors, his heart picks up its pace and his eyes widen.
You looked beautiful today. Of course, you always looked beautiful to him. You settle down in your usual spot on the left side of the seats and he slowly makes his way towards you. He takes a deep breath as he nears your seat and then stops right where you are seated.
“Can I help you?”, you ask him.
He realizes he had been standing beside your seat for an uncomfortable while, merely just staring at you. Oh God, you probably thought he was a creep! Quick, do something. Compliment her! Girls like compliments right?
“I like your scarf!” Hongjoong manages to blurt out, in spite of the massive brain fart going on inside of his head. Unfortunately, he says it a little bit too loud, causing people in the area to shift their focus to the both of you, making you want to shrink into your seat. In the distance, Seonghwa can be seen face-palming as he watches his friend crash and burn in real time.
“.... thanks?” you mutter.
“Uhm, I was wondering what your ideal type of guy is?” Hongjoong finally musters up the courage to say something with actual substance. This was the moment he had been waiting for. All those weeks of yearning, the longing glances at you in class, the sudden get-up with his outfit today. It all led to this moment where he finally has the courage to-
“I like guys who don’t talk to me.” Your words put an abrupt stop to his train of thought.
“Oh.”
“Joong, it’s gonna be fine. There’s plenty of other people in the world! Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.” Seonghwa tries to reason out with a tipsy Hongjoong in their shared dorm room.
“But she was gonna be my wiiiiiiiife!” he whines at his friend.
“We were gonna raise some kitties with a cute little catio in the back of the house and, and, and I was going to cook her breakfast in the mornings and we were going to live happily ever after with our scorpio babies!” he rambles on, distraught at his planned future with you not going exactly to plan.
“Hongjoong you guys are not married.” Seonghwa corrects his drunk friend.
“We are in the sims!” He pouts.
Seonghwa sighs. Hongjoong was deep into his feelings for you and confirmed Seonghwa’s deepest fears. Hongjoong was a simp. (On this blog we love simp!joong!!)
And as he stared at his forlorn simp of a best friend, he knew what he had to do. He had to consult the Reddit gods. He was going to use the power of manifestation.
I may have made a little bit of an oopsie and made part 2 nearly 2k words but I'm like 90% finished with it!!! don't worry folks, simp!joong is getting a happy ending ;)
finally wrote a little bit of simp!joong pt 2! gonna be busy with christmas and travelling in a few days though but I wish everyone a happy end of 2024!
Synopsis: seonghwa harnesses the power of manifestation to get himself a girlfriend.
Pairings: Simp!seonghwa x fem! reader
Genre: crack, fluff, just seonghwa being a silly goofy guy
Warnings: witchcraft technically? astrology is also mentioned
WC: 1577
a/n: another self-indulgent fic is done! wrote this after i finished an exam so read at your own risk. i might right more bonus blurbs for this but who knows. this is a piece of fiction so it does not reflect who the characters are irl. please read the warnings carefully! and as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated 🫶
Simp!hwa had been content with silently pining over you. That is until one day he asked for a sign from the universe if he should confess. He was walking down the streets of his neighborhood while on his way to school with a little skip in his step, excited to see you. He was nearing Mrs. Nesbit’s house, an old lady with a splotchy memory but a kind heart. He stops to wave at her as she sways back and forth on the rocking chair on her porch. Then, as if she read his mind she goes, “Hurry up or you’ll miss it!”
Was this it? Was this the universe finally telling him to shoot his shot with you and confess his profound love for you?
Well, the answer was no. Mrs. Nesbit was referring to the bus two blocks away ready to leave Seonghwa’s delusional ass behind. But it’s fine. He didn’t really care. All he really cared about was figuring out how to get you to fall in love with him so that you guys grow old together and live out your best lives with your two cats and moss ball babies.
Now, Seonghwa knew that he had to approach this from a proactive standpoint. Sure, you and him have been friends since both of your awkward emo teen phases but he really wanted to cement in his chances with you. So he turned to the one place he knew he could get somewhat decent love advice from; Reddit. And with the wise words of Wefishyfishy98 he knew what he had to do. If he really wanted this he needed to use the power of manifestation.
Simp!hwa wore your hair tie on his hand with pride. He read somewhere on twitter that girls liked to “mark their territory” with things like this and he grew weak at the knees thinking about you staking your claim on him. (Of course, in a completely normal and non-a/b/o kind of way.) I mean isn’t this such a boyfriend thing to do? He was clearly using the power of manifestation or whatever that fish guy said on Reddit.
And this is why, when summer grew closer and the weather grew warmer, Seonghwa absolutely did not want to return it to you.
“Hwa, C’mon it’s hot and I don’t want my hair sticking to my neck.”
“Look, I can get you a new set of hair ties! Here, look at these cute ones I found on Etsy.” He tried to distract you with some cute kuromi hair ties he just found. Jongho is just silently observing the interaction between the both of you.
You found it weird that he refused to give it to you even after you pestered him to but you decided to just give up and tough it out. And those ties on Etsy were kinda cute.
“Fine. I guess the weather isn’t so bad today. What are you even doing on Etsy anyway?” you try to take a peak at whatever Seonghwa is looking up on his phone to which he quickly turns it off and puts it screen down on the table.
“Nothing!” You seem a little taken aback by this. “Just… looking for plants for my… aquarium.”
“You mean your aquarium filled with moss balls… a plant. You want to get plants for your plants?” you blink at him.
“Technically they’re algae.” Jongho butts in.
“Right…. Well, at least you’re passionate about your moss balls?” you trail off.
Seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief as Jongho nods on to you changing the topic to something about your mother’s extensive cacti collection. He opens up his phone again and clicks the order on his Etsy cart.
“I hope this works.” He thinks to himself.
That same night, Seonghwa started wracking his brain trying to think of something else that he could do that was “boyfriend coded”. And after much deliberation while staring at the ceiling, it finally hits him. She should be my lock screen! I mean nothing screams boyfriend like a cute candid picture as my lock screen.
So, with this in mind, he scrounges through his gallery looking for a good photo of you to put as his lock screen. Then he spots the perfect candid of you in his living room sitting on the floor with lego pieces scattered all around the floor trying to assemble his lego death star with him. You aren’t looking at the camera, instead you look completely locked in on building the superweapon of the Empire with him. He stares at the image with a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Without even realizing it he’s smiling like an idiot at his screen and he buries his head on his pillow and screams into it while kicking his feet on his mattress.
That night he dreams of a distant future with you. One where he can call you his. Oh, and of course you can’t forget your two cats Lily and Bongo, and his ever growing collection of marimo balls.
A week and a half later, he’s checking his phone every few minutes and then looking at the front door waiting to see if the delivery truck has arrived. Today was your birthday and the gift that he had bought you was running dangerously late. Which is why when he hears a truck nearing the property he all but zooms off the living room couch and to the front door. He accepts the package from the delivery man and quickly unboxes it.
“It’s perfect.” he thought, smiling to himself as he delicately put it in a bag.
Later that day, as he walks you home just in time for you to have dinner with your family he surprises you with the gift.
“Wha- Hwa? I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year?” you say as you accept the small paper bag from him.
“Well, I saw this and I just couldn’t not get it for you.” he just smiles at you shyly as you look at him, surprised at the gesture.
“Now, I have to get you a gift worth two birthdays next year.” you joke.
“You’re the best gift life has to offer.” he thinks. But he shakes his head, a dumb smile on his face. “Open it.” he motions to the gift.
You open and find a couple kuromi hair ties, just as promised. But also, a jewelry box with a bracelet inside. It had a dainty gold chain and a baby pink stone in the middle.
“Hwa, I love it.” you smile at him. “It’s so pretty.” you inspect the bracelet.
“Here, let me put it on you.” he gets the bracelet from the box and clamps it around your wrist. He smiles at the sight of you wearing the bracelet.
He unfortunately had to leave because it was getting dark and he had to feed his cat at home. But, he swears he feels something in the air that night.
“Please work.” He mumbles to himself.
In hindsight, what Seonghwa felt that fateful night was probably just pollen, because the very next day Seonghwa finds Jongho coming down with a bad case of allergy sniffles. The cafeteria is filled with the sounds of chattering from hungry sleep-deprived college students and Jongho’s sneezes.
“So, did you finally give her that rose quartz bracelet you bought from that Etsy witch?” Seonghwa’s cheeks burn at his words.
“Yea. It was a good time too. Venus was in mercury gatorade or something.” he mumbles while picking at the skin on his thumb.
“Ahem.” You startle both boys with your presence. You raise your eyebrows at both of them and decide to end their misery of staring at you with their mouths open in shock. “What’s this about an Etsy witch?”
“I do not recall saying Etsy witch.” Jongho mumbles quickly then packs up his things, muttering some excuse about buying a gatorade from the vending machine. Seonghwa just sits there, mouth agape, trying to stutter out some excuse but nothing coherent falls from his mouth.
“Hwa, you know you didn’t have to summon the forces of magic and astrology to make me fall in love with you right? I kinda already am.” You blush as you admit your feelings for your best friend.
Simp!hwa’s brain malfunctions hearing this. Heart pounding, mind racing. Did she just... Did she just say that? She likes me? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. What now?! I didn’t actually think I would get this far. Shit what happens next. Do I shake her hand? No, that would be weird. Just say something, Seonghwa! Say something!
“Will you be my manifested girlfriend?” he asks in a dazed voice. This makes you giggle before you shake your head then decide to kiss him on the nose. “It’s about time.”
Seonghwa wastes no time in going in for a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off in the background (it was just Jongho having a massive sneezing fit). The moment was perfect. It was magical. You guys stare into each other’s eyes and it felt like all was right with the world. As the both of you pull away from the kiss, Jongho sits down at the table with a purple gatorade.
Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse.
Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader
Genre: crack, technically angst?? but it gets better in the next part I swear, fluff honestly god bless hongjoong's heart
Warnings: none that I can think of tbh but if i missed anything please lmk!
WC: 808
a/n: I am finally back and this is my proof of life. had a bajillion exams and things to study for so I took an unintended hiatus but I finally have time since it's christmas break and I am so excited to be extending the ateez simpverse! as always, none of the characters' behaviors in this fic represent their personalities in real life. and reblogs and feedbacks are always deeply appreciated and keep me motivated to write these things so they are highly encouraged :))
Nerd!joong takes a long look at himself in the mirror, he’s sporting a brand new letterman jacket over his simple blue jeans and white t-shirt. He looked put together. So why was he so nervous today?
Well, it’s a bit of a long story. You see, today was not just any ordinary weekday for Hongjoong. Today, he will finally muster up the courage to talk to a girl he’s had the fattest crush on since he first laid his eyes on you in his introductory Philosophy class.
With a jittery kick in his step. He gets ready for his commute to school, calling out to any deity out there for some good luck.
“God, what’s got you so worked up today? If you shake any harder, you’ll be putting Mrs. Hong’s rose toy to shame.” Seonghwa points out his nervous body language. Hongjoong is staring at the entrance to the amphitheater with laser focus. He’s fidgeting with his fingers and his legs are bouncing up and down.
“I’m just waiting for her to get here…” Hongjoong trails off, not daring to look away from the door for more than a few seconds.
“So, you’re really going to go for it? I mean, from what I hear she can be a little cutthroat, Joong.” Seonghwa warns him, but his words shoot through his ear and out the opposite.
There were rumors going around that you were not exactly all sunshine and rainbows. You seemingly had a neutral face plastered on your face, only showing a smile every now and then with your small circle of friends. Seonghwa would describe you as “such a scorpio” with your sharp gaze, almost resembling a black cat in a way. Jongho and Wooyoung had heard that you were quite blunt and straight to the point. And although there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, they feared it may be too much for Hongjoong’s heart. But alas, he was smitten with you.
From the way you look so cute when you’re concentrating while taking notes, or how you tugged at your sleeves when the weather grew colder. So when you finally walk through those doors, his heart picks up its pace and his eyes widen.
You looked beautiful today. Of course, you always looked beautiful to him. You settle down in your usual spot on the left side of the seats and he slowly makes his way towards you. He takes a deep breath as he nears your seat and then stops right where you are seated.
“Can I help you?”, you ask him.
He realizes he had been standing beside your seat for an uncomfortable while, merely just staring at you. Oh God, you probably thought he was a creep! Quick, do something. Compliment her! Girls like compliments right?
“I like your scarf!” Hongjoong manages to blurt out, in spite of the massive brain fart going on inside of his head. Unfortunately, he says it a little bit too loud, causing people in the area to shift their focus to the both of you, making you want to shrink into your seat. In the distance, Seonghwa can be seen face-palming as he watches his friend crash and burn in real time.
“.... thanks?” you mutter.
“Uhm, I was wondering what your ideal type of guy is?” Hongjoong finally musters up the courage to say something with actual substance. This was the moment he had been waiting for. All those weeks of yearning, the longing glances at you in class, the sudden get-up with his outfit today. It all led to this moment where he finally has the courage to-
“I like guys who don’t talk to me.” Your words put an abrupt stop to his train of thought.
“Oh.”
“Joong, it’s gonna be fine. There’s plenty of other people in the world! Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.” Seonghwa tries to reason out with a tipsy Hongjoong in their shared dorm room.
“But she was gonna be my wiiiiiiiife!” he whines at his friend.
“We were gonna raise some kitties with a cute little catio in the back of the house and, and, and I was going to cook her breakfast in the mornings and we were going to live happily ever after with our scorpio babies!” he rambles on, distraught at his planned future with you not going exactly to plan.
“Hongjoong you guys are not married.” Seonghwa corrects his drunk friend.
“We are in the sims!” He pouts.
Seonghwa sighs. Hongjoong was deep into his feelings for you and confirmed Seonghwa’s deepest fears. Hongjoong was a simp. (On this blog we love simp!joong!!)
And as he stared at his forlorn simp of a best friend, he knew what he had to do. He had to consult the Reddit gods. He was going to use the power of manifestation.
Finally done with finals and I'm cleared for the semester 🥳✨️ I had to fight tooth and nail to pass all my godawful subjects so best believe I'm gonna drop something this week to make up for my baby hiatus 😌
Anyways, I was thinking of a drabble fic like the wacky willy ads that went viral lmao but it's so good to finally have free time again 😩
Synopsis: DanceTeacher!Reader x SingleDad!Wooyoung, Daughter!Yoonseo
(f,a) Star 1117 @sorryimananti-romantic
Synopsis: Human!Wooyoung x Alienoid!Reader, SpaceApocalypse Au
(f) Jeju thoughts @hee0soo
Synopsis: Established Relationship
(f,h) Woo’s Brews @covenha
Synopsis: Witch!Wooyoung
(a,f) Take me away @edenesth
Synopsis: PrivateInvestigator!Wooyoung x Courtesan!Reader
(a,f) Take me away II
(f) First time dad @kpoptrashibnida
(m) Closer @luvt0kki ft.Hongjoong
Synopsis: FoxHybrid!Wooyoung x Reader x Husband!Hongjoong
(m,f) Tarot card: The Empress @staytinyville
Synopsis: StarvingArtists!Reader x SupportiveBf!Wooyung
(f,a,m) Good lil boy @sorryimananti-romantic
Synopsis: Prince!Wooyoung x Princess!Reader, Enemies to Lovers
(m) Sticky fingers @zero00kiryu00
Synopsis: Roommates/Housemates
(m) More satisfying than pearls @ilovejeongintoo
Synopsis: Fantasy, Siren!Wooyoung x Reader, Accidental Marriage
(m) Milkshake @byuntrash101
Synopsis: Wooyoung needs to impress the ceo and chairman to get the newly open ceo position and for that he's planning to go all out, show off everything he's got. Including his precious, stunning and bewitching wife: You.
(m) Alluring whispers @ja3hwa
Synopsis: Pirate!Wooyoung x Siren!Reader
(m) Morning Juice @bro-atz
Synopsis: You and Wooyoung share more than just breakfast.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔
pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader
genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s
word count: 14K
beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)
masterlist
summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.
1996
“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.
“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.
Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.
Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.
You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.
He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.
Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.
“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.
“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.
“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.
“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.
“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.
“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.
“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.
“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.
“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.
Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.
“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.
“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”
“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.
You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.
Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.
“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.
“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.
Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.
Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.
It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.
“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.
“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.
He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.
Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.
“Not a chance.”
The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.
This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.
You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.
It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.
“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.
When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.
“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.
You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.
You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.
“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.
“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.
The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.
“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.
“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.
“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.
“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.
His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”
Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.
Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.
“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.
“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.
“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.
“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”
But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.
Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.
It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.
With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.
“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.
Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.
“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.
A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.
You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.
You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”
In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.
Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.
The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.
As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.
You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.
Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.
They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.
All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.
You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.
Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.
Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.
“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.
He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.
“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.
“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.
“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.
He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.
“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.
“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.
“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.
“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.
As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.
You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.
“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.
“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.
“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.
“I can get you a better job.”
You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.
“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.
Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.
“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.
“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.
“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”
“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.
You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.
“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.
Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.
“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.
“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.
“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.
When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.
“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.
You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.
His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.
“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.
“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.
“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.
“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.
“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.
“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.
“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.
With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.
Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.
A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.
Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.
Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.
The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.
You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.
Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.
“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.
“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.
“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.
“I need you.”
You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.
Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.
As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?
The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.
He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.
You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.
“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.
“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.
He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”
The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.
“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.
“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.
“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.
Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.
“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.
You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.
“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.
Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.
He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.
“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.
“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.
“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.
It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.
You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.
“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.
“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.
“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.
“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.
As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.
“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.
“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.
“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.
“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.
“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.
“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.
“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.
“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.
What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.
He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.
Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.
His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.
You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.
“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.
“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.
The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.
He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.
“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.
“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.
Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.
You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.
He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.
The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.
“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.
“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.
You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.
“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.
He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.
“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.
“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.
“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.
Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.
“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.
“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.
“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.
“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.
Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.
As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.
“I love you so much baby—”
It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.
But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.
“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.
You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.
The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.
And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.
The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.
And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.
You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.
Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.
“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.
You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.
The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.
You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.
Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.
“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.
The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.
“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.
“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.
“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.
You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.
He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.
“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.
“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.
“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.
“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.
“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.
Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.
You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.
“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.
His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.
“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.
After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.
As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.
Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.
“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.
You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.
“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.
Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.
Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.
Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.
The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.
As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.
Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.
“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.
“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”
“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.
“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.
“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.
He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.
“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.
“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.
“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”
“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.
“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.
Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.
“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.
“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.
“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.
“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”
“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.
“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.
“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.
“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.
“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.
“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.
“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”
“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.
“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.
“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.
“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.
“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.
“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.
“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.
“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.
“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”
“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.
“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.
You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.
The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.
Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.
“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.
“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.
“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.
“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.
Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.
“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.
“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”
Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.
“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.
“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.
The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.
Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.
“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.
“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.
“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.
“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.
He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.
“Swallow.”
The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.
If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.
Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.
When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.
The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.
You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.
The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.
He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.
You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.
As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.
The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.
The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.
Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.
With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.
You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.
It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.
It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.
A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.
You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.
But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.
The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.
“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.
A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.
As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.
First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.
Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.
Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.
That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.
The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.
The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.
“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.
He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.
“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.
With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.
He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.
The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.
The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.
It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.
A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.
Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.
A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?
Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.
His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?
You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.
“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.
“You will.”
I N T E R L O G U E
Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.
His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?
He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.
The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.
“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.
“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.
“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.
“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.
As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.
“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.
Synopsis: seonghwa harnesses the power of manifestation to get himself a girlfriend.
Pairings: Simp!seonghwa x fem! reader
Genre: crack, fluff, just seonghwa being a silly goofy guy
Warnings: witchcraft technically? astrology is also mentioned
WC: 1577
a/n: another self-indulgent fic is done! wrote this after i finished an exam so read at your own risk. i might right more bonus blurbs for this but who knows. this is a piece of fiction so it does not reflect who the characters are irl. please read the warnings carefully! and as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated 🫶
Simp!hwa had been content with silently pining over you. That is until one day he asked for a sign from the universe if he should confess. He was walking down the streets of his neighborhood while on his way to school with a little skip in his step, excited to see you. He was nearing Mrs. Nesbit’s house, an old lady with a splotchy memory but a kind heart. He stops to wave at her as she sways back and forth on the rocking chair on her porch. Then, as if she read his mind she goes, “Hurry up or you’ll miss it!”
Was this it? Was this the universe finally telling him to shoot his shot with you and confess his profound love for you?
Well, the answer was no. Mrs. Nesbit was referring to the bus two blocks away ready to leave Seonghwa’s delusional ass behind. But it’s fine. He didn’t really care. All he really cared about was figuring out how to get you to fall in love with him so that you guys grow old together and live out your best lives with your two cats and moss ball babies.
Now, Seonghwa knew that he had to approach this from a proactive standpoint. Sure, you and him have been friends since both of your awkward emo teen phases but he really wanted to cement in his chances with you. So he turned to the one place he knew he could get somewhat decent love advice from; Reddit. And with the wise words of Wefishyfishy98 he knew what he had to do. If he really wanted this he needed to use the power of manifestation.
Simp!hwa wore your hair tie on his hand with pride. He read somewhere on twitter that girls liked to “mark their territory” with things like this and he grew weak at the knees thinking about you staking your claim on him. (Of course, in a completely normal and non-a/b/o kind of way.) I mean isn’t this such a boyfriend thing to do? He was clearly using the power of manifestation or whatever that fish guy said on Reddit.
And this is why, when summer grew closer and the weather grew warmer, Seonghwa absolutely did not want to return it to you.
“Hwa, C’mon it’s hot and I don’t want my hair sticking to my neck.”
“Look, I can get you a new set of hair ties! Here, look at these cute ones I found on Etsy.” He tried to distract you with some cute kuromi hair ties he just found. Jongho is just silently observing the interaction between the both of you.
You found it weird that he refused to give it to you even after you pestered him to but you decided to just give up and tough it out. And those ties on Etsy were kinda cute.
“Fine. I guess the weather isn’t so bad today. What are you even doing on Etsy anyway?” you try to take a peak at whatever Seonghwa is looking up on his phone to which he quickly turns it off and puts it screen down on the table.
“Nothing!” You seem a little taken aback by this. “Just… looking for plants for my… aquarium.”
“You mean your aquarium filled with moss balls… a plant. You want to get plants for your plants?” you blink at him.
“Technically they’re algae.” Jongho butts in.
“Right…. Well, at least you’re passionate about your moss balls?” you trail off.
Seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief as Jongho nods on to you changing the topic to something about your mother’s extensive cacti collection. He opens up his phone again and clicks the order on his Etsy cart.
“I hope this works.” He thinks to himself.
That same night, Seonghwa started wracking his brain trying to think of something else that he could do that was “boyfriend coded”. And after much deliberation while staring at the ceiling, it finally hits him. She should be my lock screen! I mean nothing screams boyfriend like a cute candid picture as my lock screen.
So, with this in mind, he scrounges through his gallery looking for a good photo of you to put as his lock screen. Then he spots the perfect candid of you in his living room sitting on the floor with lego pieces scattered all around the floor trying to assemble his lego death star with him. You aren’t looking at the camera, instead you look completely locked in on building the superweapon of the Empire with him. He stares at the image with a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Without even realizing it he’s smiling like an idiot at his screen and he buries his head on his pillow and screams into it while kicking his feet on his mattress.
That night he dreams of a distant future with you. One where he can call you his. Oh, and of course you can’t forget your two cats Lily and Bongo, and his ever growing collection of marimo balls.
A week and a half later, he’s checking his phone every few minutes and then looking at the front door waiting to see if the delivery truck has arrived. Today was your birthday and the gift that he had bought you was running dangerously late. Which is why when he hears a truck nearing the property he all but zooms off the living room couch and to the front door. He accepts the package from the delivery man and quickly unboxes it.
“It’s perfect.” he thought, smiling to himself as he delicately put it in a bag.
Later that day, as he walks you home just in time for you to have dinner with your family he surprises you with the gift.
“Wha- Hwa? I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year?” you say as you accept the small paper bag from him.
“Well, I say this and I just couldn’t not get it for you.” he just smiles at you shyly as you look at him, surprised at the gesture.
“Now, I have to get you a gift worth two birthdays next year.” you joke.
“You’re the best gift life has to offer.” he thinks. But he shakes his head, a dumb smile on his face. “Open it.” he motions to the gift.
You open and find a couple kuromi hair ties, just as promised. But also, a jewelry box with a bracelet inside. It had a dainty gold chain and a baby pink stone in the middle.
“Hwa, I love it.” you smile at him. “It’s so pretty.” you inspect the bracelet.
“Here, let me put it on you.” he gets the bracelet from the box and clamps it around your wrist. He smiles at the sight of you wearing the bracelet.
He unfortunately had to leave because it was getting dark and he had to feed his cat at home. But, he swears he feels something in the air that night.
“Please work.” He mumbles to himself.
In hindsight, what Seonghwa felt that fateful night was probably just pollen, because the very next day Seonghwa finds Jongho coming down with a bad case of allergy sniffles. The cafeteria is filled with the sounds of chattering from hungry sleep-deprived college students and Jongho’s sneezes.
“So, did you finally give her that rose quartz bracelet you bought from that Etsy witch?” Seonghwa’s cheeks burn at his words.
“Yea. It was a good time too. Venus was in mercury gatorade or something.” he mumbles while picking at the skin on his thumb.
“Ahem.” You startle both boys with your presence. You raise your eyebrows at both of them and decide to end their misery of staring at you with their mouths open in shock. “What’s this about an Etsy witch?”
“I do not recall saying Etsy witch.” Jongho mumbles quickly then packs up his things, muttering some excuse about buying a gatorade from the vending machine. Seonghwa just sits there, mouth agape, trying to stutter out some excuse but nothing coherent falls from his mouth.
“Hwa, you know you didn’t have to summon the forces of magic and astrology to make me fall in love with you right? I kinda already am.” You blush as you admit your feelings for your best friend.
Simp!hwa’s brain malfunctions hearing this. Heart pounding, mind racing. Did she just... Did she just say that? She likes me? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. What now?! I didn’t actually think I would get this far. Shit what happens next. Do I shake her hand? No, that would be weird. Just say something, Seonghwa! Say something!
“Will you be my manifested girlfriend?” he asks in a dazed voice. This makes you giggle before you shake your head then decide to kiss him on the nose. “It’s about time.”
Seonghwa wastes no time in going in for a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off in the background (it was just Jongho having a massive sneezing fit). The moment was perfect. It was magical. You guys stare into each other’s eyes and it felt like all was right with the world. As the both of you pull away from the kiss, Jongho sits down at the table with a purple gatorade.
Synopsis: Wooyoung can't stop thinking about you (and what he wants to do to you ;)
Pairings: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader
Genre: smut (+18), mdni
WC: 1010
Warnings: this contains smut so if you don't like what please click away! reader ovulates, wooyoung having major pervy thoughts
a/n: I wrote this all in one sitting after doing so much math for a booth making competition so there's probably grammatical errors and this might be all over the place woops, but at least I'm back from the dead! formatting for this one is non-existent but I don't have the time (or energy) to stretch this into a proper fic so this will have to do. I cannot stress enough how this is FICTION and this definitely is not telling of how the characters in this story are irl. And as always, feel free to leave your feedbacks in the comments or request something, they are much appreciated. Enjoy!
So imagine this, you get a notification from your period tracking app that today you are ovulating but you don’t pay it much attention
You haven’t been having such a great day so far, the coffee machine broke for reasons unknown so you haven’t had your daily dose of caffeine, you misplaced one of your bluetooth earphones so now you have to survive a day with ½ of your music fix, and to top it all off, because you were busy looking for your missing earphone you lose track of time and miss the school bus leaving you no choice but to walk to school
On your way to school you pass by one of your upper classman’s house, Jung Wooyoung , vice-president of the radio broadcast club who’s in charge of school announcements
You give him a polite smile and walk on your way, but you slow down when he shouts at you to wait up
He suggests you guys walk to school together since it “just makes sense”, the introvert in you is dying to say no but the people pleaser in you just nods along to his suggestion
As he’s busy yapping about the festivities at your school’s upcoming founder’s week, you feel a weird sensation start to rise in your body
Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung happens to have a black cat that he so lovingly calls “toothless”, an animal whose fur you happen to be very allergic to
You start sneezing every now and then, interrupting Wooyoung’s monologue on how the school should be investing better speakers for the football field, the first few times he just shrugs it off to some cool morning air sniffles but as the sneezes get a tad bit more aggressive he starts to feel concern for you
He asks if you’re okay, to which you just say that “it’s probably pollen or something” and he just nods at your reason
But as the sneezing doesn’t stop, a few blocks away from your school, he asks again “Are you really okay?” and then he puts a hand on your forehead to check if your temperature is up
He feels your skin is a little warm and offers to walk you to the nurse’s clinic to which you repeat what you said about it probably just being allergies
But he relents and brings up how you feel like you might be coming up with a fever
You sigh at this. because how were you supposed to bring up that your elevated temperature was probably just because it was this time of the month?
As Wooyoung continues to urge you to at least ask for some medicine from the clinic you just decided, you know what? I’ll just tell him, he definitely won’t stop until I tell him. So you cut him off and say “It’s because I’m ovulating.”
Then comes a pregnant pause (I intended this joke okay please laugh)
“Oh.” is all he has to say. He feels the blood rushing up to his cheeks (but also down there if ykw I’m sayin)
“Yeah. That’s why I’m a little warm today.” You just give him a tight smile as the both of you enter school premises.
He doesn’t have much to say as you guys walk into the hallways, I mean how could he even talk to you after that?
He had the fattest crush on you since you signed up for the photography club last fall, and boy was he smitten. He was so excited to see you walk past his house this morning that he basically yelled at you to stop in your tracks. (This was not one of his proudest moments but he’ll just have to move on and rant about it to toothless later when he gets home.)
You had the prettiest smile, an infectious laugh, and you had a humor that just had him in a chokehold. So when you said so straightforwardly that you were ovulating, he didn’t know how to react.
He liked to think that he was better than to fantasize about you in a sexual way, I mean, you barely knew him. Up until this point, he was probably just the Junior Social Sciences student who yelled at you to walk to school with him.
But the way you looked when you were focused on taking the best shot, with your camera all adjusted and moving to get the best angle. He was weak to his body’s primal desires.
Even as you both exchanged pleasantries as you parted ways, you were still on his mind. He was so unusually silent that even his friends started wondering if something wrong was going on with him.
It was midway through a psychology lecture that he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. How soft your skin was, even from the few seconds that he put his hand on you. He bets the rest of your body is just as soft…. Soft and supple and aching for him to take a bite out of.
He wonders if your moans are soft and breathy during foreplay, then he imagines your noises getting more whiney and drawn out. You’d look so cute all teary with your eyes squeezed shut as he kept hitting that special spot in you.
He wonders if he could make you beg… to go harder? For more? To stop? Who knows what's going on in his brain. He just knows that he desperately wants to know how you sound when he angles his thrusts to hit nice and deep.
But most of all, he wants to know just how much you can take. I mean it would be such a shame for you to not be pleasured when your body is at its prime.
That night, he jacks off to the thought of you. And as he lays there on his bed watching his cum drip down his softening tip, he thinks to himself how it's such a shame that it be wasted like this.
Because he would rather it be dripping out of you.
Synopsis: Sunoo realizes that his love language is acts of service.
Pairings: sunoo x fem!reader
Genre: fluff! so much fluff I got cavities from writing this
WC: 1356
Warnings: mentions of academic stress and insomnia
a/n: I had fun writing this one, really had to destress from all the studying I've been doing these past few days so this fic is a lil self-indulgent whoops. anyway, this is also a work of fiction so don't forget to touch some grass after reading! lmao jk but as always feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated! and requests are open so if you guys want me to write something lmk :))
Sunoo can admit, he always felt like he was pampered.
It’s not like he didn’t like it. Heck, he enjoyed the feeling of his members being attentive to him. The way that Jay cooks meat just the way he likes it. The way that Jake lets him get away with mistakes in his grammar because it’s just “part of his charm.” Or, the way that Jungwon always let him have a few bites of his sweets even though Sunoo definitely said he didn’t want to order one of his own.
Which is why it was such a refreshing feeling to be with you. He never really knew what his love language was until he met you. So here are the three times that made him realize his love language was acts of service.
It was late at night, midterms were coming up and things were not looking up for you. With so many enzymes to memorize and so many cascades to internalize, if you had to look at one more diagram with arrows one more time, you were simply going to go clinically insane.
“Why won’t this get in my head?! Who even named these stupid enzymes? Argininosuccinate synthetase? Sounds like something Elon Musk would name his child.” You bonk your head with your notebook, clearly on the brink of insanity.
“Hey,” Sunoo’s soft voice cuts through your inner monologue. “You doing okay? Is it the krebs cycle again?” You sigh.
“There’s just so much to study for, I don’t think I can cram it all inside my goldfish brain.” You pout at the notes scattered across the desk in the room.
“Hey, babe, you don’t have a goldfish brain. C’mon, you’re one of the smartest people I know.” Sunoo starts to get up from his lying position on the bed.
“You don’t have to get up, Sun. I can manage this on my own, just need to whine about it first.” You give him a little smile while shrugging your shoulders.
Sunoo drags the bean bag chair at the corner of the room and sets it right beside you.
“Okay, we have a few hours before your exam. We can work with this. We just need to mix some active recall into the review!” Sunoo beams up at you as he lay in the bean bag, notebook in hand.
And for the rest of the night, and well into the morning, Sunoo helps you study for your godawful Chemistry midterm. The look you had when you got back your results, passing your midterms exams with the brightest smile on your face, he just knew that he had to protect that smile.
One thing that Sunoo learned about you quickly was that you loved to drink matcha. Sure, to him it tastes like grass, but he liked mint chocolate things so who was he to judge? You loved going to this cafe two blocks from your apartment, it was owned by an old Taiwanese couple who immigrated a couple years ago. You were one of their longest regulars. So it was quite upsetting to find out that they were closing up shop for good.
Ever since that cafe closed, you have tried looking around for the next best matcha but, sadly, none have come close to beating their matcha latte. One month into the search and you had all but given up on your matcha latte dreams. That was until one day you woke up to the smell of green tea in your kitchen.
“Sunoo? What’s that smell?” You nose around the hallway leading to the kitchen.
And much to your surprise, a glass of green goodness is being served up on the kitchen island.
“Sunoo? Is this what I think it is?” You ask in surprise at what you see. You go up to him and hug his side. He throws his arms around your waist, hugging your form.
“Well, I know you’ve been looking for a matcha latte replacement and haven’t found one yet, so I decided to do a little digging. Asked for their recipe and tried to make it myself. I hope it tastes okay.” He mushes his cheek against your head then smiles down at you.
“Sunoo, you really didn’t have to do this….” You look up at him. You felt all warm and fuzzy.
“Well, I can’t have my little girlfriend go for too long without her matcha latte. She’s gonna start tweaking.” He teases. You just poke his cheek and decide to taste his drink.
You knew that whatever it tasted like, you were going to love it anyway. But one sip of the green drink and you felt your heart soar at the familiar taste.
“Sunoo, this tastes amazing!” You look back at him with a surprised look in your eyes.
“Really?”
“No, really! Like it tastes just like how they make it. How did you pull this off? I’m actually so impressed right now you don’t even understand.” You keep taking sips of the drink, savoring the green tea goodness. It feels like an old friend has come back from the dead.
“Well, I actually found the son of the owners and emailed him asking for the recipe. I really didn’t expect to hear anything back from him but he surprisingly gave in.” He smiled. His heart felt like it could burst from the compliments you gave him.
“This is too much. You didn’t really have to do all this for some silly drink that I like, noo.” You put down the drink and hug him.
“But I wanted to. Really, if it means seeing you happy I’d go to Taiwan myself and ask for their recipe.” He kisses your cheek. You sigh at this.
“You’re just the best.” You hug him tighter. He beams at this and you guys revel in each other’s warmth.
It was going to be “one of those nights” you feared. Sleep had yet to take over your body despite the many hours of tossing and turning in your shared bed. Sunoo lay beside you, soft snores and even breaths coming from his side of the bed. Deciding that you were not going to be sleeping anytime soon, you get up from the bed and head to the kitchen.
You trudge towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water. You look up at a clock to check the time, 2:37 AM. You decide to do some cleaning up in the kitchen to pass the time. As you are wiping down a surface in the fridge, Sunoo’s voice startles you.
“y/n? What are you doing up?” You jump a little as Sunoo makes his presence known. He notices this and softly apologizes.
“Couldn’t really sleep. So I decided on kitchen duty.” You motion to your gloved hand wiping down the fridge shelves. “Sorry if I woke you up. You can go back to bed. I’ll finish up in a bit and try to fall asleep again.”
He silently walks up to you hugging you from behind. Then he mumbles something into your hair that you don’t quite catch.
“Noo?” You ask him to repeat himself.
“Wanna go get some ice cream?”
So that’s how you end up buying ice cream at a convenience store at 3 AM. As you guys walk back to your apartment, Sunoo looks down at you happily snacking on your ice cold treat. Your ruddy cheeks from the cold autumn breeze nipping at them, your tired eyes from the lack of sleep, and your hair haphazardly thrown into a bun.
“What is it?” You ask him, noticing how silent he is.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head.
“Is there something on my face?” You motion towards your face.
Sunoo just smiled at himself, telling you that there was nothing on your face. And as the two of you neared the entrance to your apartment he mulled over some thoughts. Even though he was munching on some mint chocolate ice cream, which he could argue was one of life’s best delicacies. He thought that maybe, no surely, he liked being the reason you smile a whole lot more.
I have something coming up in the next few hours, university has finally given me some wiggle room to finish some headcannons about my boy Wooyo and I can't wait to post it later
