ABOVE THE SHEETS .✦ ݁˖ JJK (M)
pairing — ceo jungkook x secretary oc (named minseo)
genre — one night hookup turned into affair, infidelity (he’s married and cheating on his wife), smut, angst.
warning —depressed, lost and sexually frustated jungkook, mention of miscarriage, marital problems, drunk hookup, boob sucking, brief blowjob, bold and initiative oc, vague description of their first time hookup, unprotected sex, oral. (f receiving), brief cock grinding, needy jungkook x equally needy oc, drunk consensual sex, top! jungkook, bottom!oc, creampie.
Jeon Jungkook was a man of god.
He believed every good thing in his life was a fragment of the prayers and faith he held in his religion. He strongly believed that was also the reason behind his massive rise in the business market.
From a young age he carried an optimistic and honest outlook in life; this was why he was more capable and forward than his peers.
He didn’t take anything for granted. His life had been structured and disciplined ever since he was a young lad. He grew up in a Catholic household, with hard working middle-class parents who taught him to be truthful and to keep close what you cherish.
He’s abided that throughout 32 years of living.
He was, is and will remain a man of strong morals, ethics, and unbreakable values.
That was until Jung Minseo stumbled into his picturesque life like a turbulent tsunami.
She wasn’t his secretary, but she was assigned as an acting assistant…at least that’s what Kyungsu, his advisor told him.
To him she was a mere employee just like the rest, he always tried his level best to remember every employees name but it was impossible. Usually his employees didn't take it personally when they had to reintroduce themselves, yet Minseo was a woman who didn’t accept being forgotten or ignored especially by Jungkook, her adonis looking boss, she made sure that wherever she went or passed by people would remember her, take notice of her, and it was no doubt the male species in the office were drawn to her like moth to a flame.
She had this naturally alluring charisma.
Yet, Jungkook was one of the few people to not give into her practiced charm, her red lipstick, her tight little skirts and those cheap low cut blouses... they did nothing to entice him, never.
She could never compete against his Mirae.
Mirae could be wearing a decade old oversized tee, that had holes in it and he would get rock hard and needy for her.
It wasn't about the clothes, it was about the focus, the feelings.
Jungkook knew he was a lucky bastard, and that he must have done some great deed in his past seven lives to be granted with someone as pure hearted, breathtakingly beautiful as Mirae.
He knew she deserved better but too bad, he’s greedy.
Nobody could compete against his Mirae.
So, Minseo’s feeble little attempts to grasp his attention, or make him converse with her outside work related topic only amused him.
She was one audacious woman.
He didn’t pay heed to her stares or her flirty remarks, brushing her off with one stern look and a firm voice, albeit with her persistence he soon realised it were no different from giving directions to a blind woman.
He didn’t understand where that boldness came from.
Everyone in this company knew about his marriage.
She had seen that picture on his desk.
The ring on his left finger.
It was absurd to even let the thought exist in his mind.
Not when he was blessed with Mirae’s companionship, she had built this company with him.
She believed in him when everyone told him his dreams were too “unrealistic” and “unattainable”.
She was his ray of sunlight, his anchor, his comfort when life turned chaotic, and the object of all his desires.
Yet these days, even his love was beginning to fracture under major pressure.
He knew for a fact that marriage wasn’t an easy task, it was a commitment he made under the church, he had sworn in the name of the holy bible to love Mirae till he’s buried and resting in the grave but he was only human.
Mirae and Jungkook had been having constant arguments, disagreements mostly regarding his mother, who began pushing Mirae for a grandchild not long after another miscarriage, even though his dear mother was aware the emotional wreckage it did to him and Mirae. He stood by his wife as much as he could, yet it still wasn’t enough because at the end of the day his mother was getting old now, he understood where they came from even if he didn’t agree with her 100%, yet Mirae always puts him in a position where he’s given an ultimatum.
Do you agree with me or your mother?
How can you be so normal with her after she treated me like that?
Why couldn’t she understand that just because his mother told her to conceive and try again, doesn’t mean they actually need to do it and make it happen, at least as long as Mirae’s not ready.
As if the pressure from his demanding job wasn’t enough, she began to place the blame on him for her miscarriage, completely discarding the equal amount of pain he felt at loosing his unborn child.
He wanted to be a father desperately.
It’s been one of his greatest dreams.
He hated how insensitive Mirae was being to his loss, he couldn’t sleep for a year straight…remembering their unborn baby everytime he’d pass by the nursery they had both painted trembling from joy & excitement of their first born, yet it was snatched away from him just as quickly, he hated how Mirae acted like he didn’t have to go to therapy because of the mental toll it took on him.
It was his breaking point.
He had never felt more wounded and misunderstood.
He vaguely remembers that it was one month after their 5th anniversary, he had a massive fight with Mirae about the same old topic yet this time it wasn't his mother but his aunt who pushed Mirae's buttons.
It was the worst fight they ever had in five years of marriage, it ended with her storming out of the house and threatening divorce.
He had a hard time breathing, her words stung so deep, he didn't know how else to react other than choking on his own sobs.
'You used to be my happiness once, Jungkook, now you're a reminder of the pain I endure everyday. I can't even look at you.'
He would never forget these words.
3 days had passed since then.
What if she asks for a divorce?
After another episode of a bad nightmare, he shot up awake, reaching for his phone, spamming texts that were left unread and calls that were left unanswered, he reached to his last resort and called his sister-in-law, and to his greatest relief Mirae was at her house and wanted to be left alone.
And he had no other choice but to accept defeat to her wish.
With a heavy chest, he forced a composed face and arrived at the company party hosted by his business partner. He had forgotten it was Sunday; it was late in the evening.
He drank himself to the brink at the bar, words slipping, vision blurred, while he sank into his solitude. The jazz music was soft, almost sensual.
Someone sat beside him. He turned to his left to find a beaming Minseo, her dark eyes dancing across his face.
It began with awkward one-line questions and hesitant stuttering from Minseo. He was drunk enough not to push her away; surprisingly, he found himself tolerating her presence or rather enjoying it.
Hours passed as he drifted into conversation with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so light, with no weight pressed against his chest. She smelled ridiculously pleasant, he couldn't help but move closer, her voice was low and unhurried, and there was a childlike glimmer in her eyes that pulled him in. He didn’t realize how close they had become until their noses brushed, and her eyes slowly closed. He leaned in until their lips hovered mere inches apart.
“Mister Jeon, are you alright?” Minseo breathed, her nose brushing his, waiting.
Her hand moved up and down in chest in a comforting motion.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the voices in his head.
He haven't been touched that gently in a long time.
He hasn't felt loved in a long time.
Lately he only felt like a failure.
He just wanted to be free from the pain, the heaviness pressing down on his chest.
And she was offering him exactly what he needed.
“No, but I think you can help me get alright, Miss Jung…”
And her glossy lips engulfed his with a fiery passion.
⏔⏔⏔꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔
When he woke at dawn in that unfamiliar bedroom, with a the strong smell of bellies, his consciousness returned in shards. He jerked up, eyes widened at his naked form, and the equally naked back of an unfamiliar woman laying down next to him, all he felt was disbelief, rage, and shame followed in equal measure.
He didn’t dare look twice at the woman asleep. His stood up on shaky legs, hands trembling as he dressed and left like a fugitive.
The woman he slept with wasn’t…Mirae.
It wasn’t even his house to begin with.
He was so drunk, he couldn’t remember an ounce of yesterday’s occasion no matter how hard he tried to.
He rushed back home in a yellow taxi, his teeth biting into his lips to stop the sob wanting to break free from his throat, the thought of Mirae coming back to their home, waiting for him even though it was 6AM barely crossed his mind.
He roughly typed into the passcode and slammed the entrance door open.
He barged into the shower, tearing the shirt & pant off his skin like the fabric burned him.
Hypothetically, it did burn his chest.
He sobbed, his chest heaving as he shouted, fist slamming onto the wall repeatedly until his knuckles turned sore and bloody. He didn’t give a single fuck.
He sounded like an animal as he cried while violently scrubbing away the invisible remnants of his dark deed. He spent two hours under the scalding water until his hands wrinkled like soaked paper and his skin bore bruises from his own desperation.
Why did it happen to him?
How could he lose control?
How would he face Mirae now?
Would he even reveal this to her?
Would she understand that he was completely unconscious?
Would she even believe him?
He leaned against the wall, his body and hair wet, he closed his eyes taking in a deep breath flinching when someone knocked on the door.
“Honey…I'm so sorry, please open the door.”
His knees almost gave up.
He didn’t deserve to be called so lovingly.
‘You should slap me, Mirae.’
'You set me off in a fire.'
Before he gathered the courage to see her, it was the great fear of losing her that gave him the strength, he needed to see Mirae, hug her and make sure she was real and not a fragment of his illusion.
He emerged in a towel. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as though she’d been crying for hours, and his heart only grew heavier at her sight.
His stomach twisted into uneasy knots and there was this sudden urge to vomit out, yet before he could think futher, Mirae crashed into his chest not caring about his wet body, her arms locking tight around his waist as she sobbed into him, leaving kisses on his shoulder, whispering apologies. that she shouldn’t have left him, that she loved him too much to exist without him.
His arms hung uselessly at his sides as tears silently fell.
He was disgusted at himself, at that vile woman for letting that happen when she was the conscious one.
He worked from home for two full months after that.
He was determined to mend his relationship with Mirae, to move forward and bury the drunken mistake in the past. It was a sin he was even afraid to acknowledge in thought; guilt and self-reproach grew with every passing day, fed by fragments of memory.
He went to the nearest church that same day.
It was in the evening once he tucked Mirae to bed.
He went down on his knees and sought forgiveness for his sin till his tears dried and stopped flowing.
He pleaded to God to have mercy on him and guide him through this fractured existence.
After the visit to the church, his head cleared off from the battlefield of his inner voices, he made a promise to fix everything for the sake of Mirae.
His sole focus shifted to Mirae.
He used the guilt, and the fear of losing her as his determination to stay glued to her side, and continue being an ideal husband to her.
He woke her with breakfast in bed, massaged her feet, scratched her back, made rough and needy love to her with devotion every night till sunrise. He didn’t let ger get away for more than an hour or two, and she didn’t complain once, not when he was being so soft to her.
It was slow and gradual, but they were healing.
His racing heart softened; as long as she was near, and in his arms, he felt momentarily at peace.
When he was certain he was stable enough to return to the company, his mind firm as steel, he resolved that if he encountered Minseo, he would address it plainly, that it was inappropriate, and it should be treated as though it never happened.
But the truth was, it had happened, and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it remained.
The ambition drained from him the moment he stepped back into that space.
The entire day passed in stolen glances and this suffocating tension, he couldn’t wait to be done with the day and rush back home to Mirae.
He needed to see Mirae because he had a bad feeling about this.
He was aware that he was bound to address it, yet he didn’t know how, maybe acting ignorant was the better option that’s what he thought initially.
The moment Minseo entered the room close to midnight, certain that every exhausted employee had already left, she slowly walked toward a baffled Jungkook with quiet, hopeful eyes, he stood up as if the mere sight of her burned his eyes.
After a dramatic loud rage filled conversation and many hurtful remarks, he found himself leaning against the wall, his head thrown back as he let himself get lost in the dark sinful desire, her sinful and skilful tongue wrapped around his hard cock, she hollowed her cheeks sucking him dry, while fisting his cock with her palms.
“‘Miss Jung…that day was a mistake,” he muttered, but it came out weak, it was a fruitless attempt in comparison to her skilled ministrations, Minseo paid no heed to him, ambitious to make him give in to the pleasure she was bringing him, to surrender to her.
“Fuck…” he grunted as he felt the pleasure rising, his climax nearing, his plams fisted her hair tightly, hips thrusting back and forth, she cried softly, her free hand cupping her pussy, her index finger rubbing circles over her clit desperate to reach her own peak.
Every thrust inside her hot mouth became uneven and sloppy, his breath turned sharp and ragged as his body edged closer to the breaking point, his head tipped back against the wall for a second like he was trying to hold it off, but it was already too late, the tension snapped through him in a wave that left him shaking, breath torn from his lungs as everything in him clenched and gave way all at once.
As the high died down, shame crawled up his spine.
He didn’t mean to. He vowed to himself he wouldn’t. But the second she pressed her body closer, hips brushing his, her plump lips curling, every promise he made that morning dissolved like smoke.
He no longer recognised himself.
it wasn’t a drunken mistake.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Let himself sink into the dark abyss of lust.
And…that was five months ago.
He no longer felt guilt, only an increasing hunger for Minseo’s body, it was something darker now, more embedded in him than regret ever was. His only outlet for everything he couldn’t say, couldn’t fix, couldn’t contain was Minseo, with her, he didn’t need restraint, he stopped performing control altogether, he let himself unravel completely, and she never flinched at the edges of it rather she met him there, as if that version of him was the only one she had ever known.
It consumed him in a way he couldn’t rationalize anymore. Not because it was new, but because it was something habitual now, it was something he walked into willingly even when his mind insisted he shouldn’t.
Minseo became the pressure valve for everything he buried in daylight, his anger, frustration, the slow erosion of discipline he once believed was unbreakable.
With Minseo, there was no careful distance left to maintain, no version of himself curated for consequence.
And she never treated their ‘arrangement’ as something easily breakable or forbidden.
That was what made it worse.
There was no fear only acceptance, she never asked him to be anything better, or to be perfect and somewhere along the way, that acceptance felt relieving.
He knew, in the part of him that still tried to think clearly, that he should have stopped long ago.
That it had already gone too far to pretend it was temporary, or accidental, or contained.
But knowing never translated into action anymore.
Because whatever this had become, it no longer felt like something he chose in moments of weakness.
It felt like something he returned to on purpose.
And the most dangerous truth of all was that stopping no longer felt like an option he could easily return to especially not when there was still a wife waiting in the life he kept drifting further away from.
It was another one of those days.
Minseo and Jungkook kept it as lowkey as they could when they were at the company, especially after that one day someone almost walked in on him giving her a toe curling orgasm on his sofa. Jungkook chocked with panic. It was a good thing the lights had been off and they had slipped away into the restroom just in time, breathless and panicking… neither of them spoke about it after but silently maintained distance.
They never dare try doing something like that again in the office, everyone knew Jungkook as a respectable, committed man. He couldn’t risk the loosing his reputation in the eyes of the people who leaned onto him and looked up to him.
Minseo suggested they scheduled their weekly meetups at her place after contemplating for a whole day, it made sense since it was the most secluded option out of all, her house was a little far from the office, almost a 40-minute drive.
They could be away from observant people who knew his wife.
His life would be over if it ever reached her ears.
Loosing Mirae was worse than death.
He knew he should put a stop to this secret affair, stop before it turns into a fucked up sin he couldn’t tidy up, but it was too late, he was too deep in to understand the damage it was doing to his soul and his marriage, It’s not like he was head over heels in love Minseo, it was impossible when Mirae and the remorse of his crime was at the back of his head like a mantra every moment and every second, it would be delusional to pretend to not know that he was a married man with years of marriage and a wife he loved more than life itself, he would never give it up. Nonetheless he barely knew Jung Minseo, what she was like outside, or literally anything about her personal life, he only fucked her and used her body to take out the frustrations of his marital problems.
The truth was…Minseo became an addiction he couldn’t stop, the more he engaged with her, the harder it was to stop meeting her.
⏔⏔⏔꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔
As soon as Minseo unlocked her door, she entered quickly and he trailed behind her, his eyes hooded in lust.
He remembered her lips first, glistening from their intense makeout session from earlier, they were red and sinful, wrapping around him as she knelt between his legs. Her tongue was hot and wet, sliding along his cock while one hand gripped his thigh, while the other wrapped around his shaft stroking him with a hunger that made his head fall back. The image blurred and sharpened, every sloppy lick, every wet suck burned into his memory.
By the time she rose from her knees, her blouse was gone, her bra sliding down her arms. He grabbed her before she could even shrug it off, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her chest. His mouth latched onto her hard nipples greedily, sucking, flicking, biting until she moaned helplessly. Her hips rolled against him, grinding her soaked heat over his cock through the thin barrier between them, dragging a groan from deep in his chest.
“Fuck…” he hissed, mouth still full of her breast, grinding harder as she rocked on him, their bodies rutting desperately together.
Then, in a messy blur, he had her on her back, clothes scattering on the sheets. His hands pressed her down while his mouth returned to her tits, sucking, kneading, tugging until she was writhing beneath him. He trailed lower, tongue dragging down her stomach, until he buried himself between her thighs. His hot tongue was everywhere making her cry out as he sucked on her clit with sloppy hunger.
Her hands fisted the sheets, her body trembling as he devoured her until she was shaking and grinding up against his face. When she broke with a sharp cry, he groaned into her, the taste of her only spurring him on.
“Mister Jeon.” Minseo mewled softly.
And then he crawled on top of her again briefly stopping to suck on her perky nipples, his throbbing cock sliding against her soaked slit, smearing her arousal he grunted, eyes locked on hers, teeth gritted as he let her tease him. “You’re driving me insane,” he rasped, her head fell back when he pressed harder against her clit before he aligned his hard cock right at her entrance, sinking in deep with one desperate thrust. Her walls clenched around him, and he groaned into her mouth as he kissed her hard, hips slamming against hers in a sloppy, breathless rhythm.
Every movement was messy and raw, his mouth finding her nipples again, sucking them as his cock drove into her mercilessly, her hips desperately lifting to meet his, the two of them grinding, clawing, ravishing each other like they had been starving for this moment. The air was filled with moans, gasps, the wet slap of skin, the lewd sounds of him sucking her tits between kisses that tasted like sin.
Her nails raked down his back as he fucked her harder, deeper, hips slamming in a reckless rhythm that made the headboard rattle. His mouth was glued to her tits, sucking greedily at her nipples, tugging with his teeth until she cried out and arched against him.
“Fuck, you’re so so tight,” he groaned, pulling almost all the way out only to grind back in slow and heavy, making her feel every inch. His cock rubbed against every spot inside her, dragging broken moans from her throat. She clung to him, hips rolling wildly to meet each thrust, her body begging for more, for everything.
He pressed her wrists above her head, body pinning hers to the mattress as his mouth worked on her neck to send her to her peak.
Her moans grew louder, sharper, spilling from her lips without restraint. He could feel her clenching, fluttering around him, her body on the verge of breaking.
“Cum for me, Minseo.” he rasped looking at her with dark eyes, while poundimg into her with faster thrusts, his thumb finding her swollen clit and rubbing fast circles. She sobbed his name, legs shaking, body convulsing as she shattered around him, pussy squeezing his cock in pulsing waves.
The feel of her breaking apart dragged him under too. He buried himself to the hilt, hips jerking in messy, uneven thrusts, grinding desperately as the heat coiled and snapped. With a guttural groan, he spilled inside her, filling her as he sucked onto a nipple, teeth catching, tongue soothing in the same breath.
The room was filled with the lewd mix of their panting, the wet slap of their bodies still grinding together as they rode out the aftershocks. He collapsed against her chest, lips still latched onto her breast as if he couldn’t bear to let go, both of them trembling, ruined, and drunk on the mess they’d made.
He stayed buried inside her even after his release, his hips giving weak, instinctive grinds as if his body couldn’t accept it was over.
His mouth lingered on her tits, lips swollen from sucking, tongue lazily circling her nipple until she whimpered and trembled beneath him.
The sheets were damp, sticky with sweat and sex. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, her hands tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him off and pulling him closer.
He finally stilled, cock still pulsing faintly inside her.
For a few stolen seconds, it was silent, just their ragged breathing, the wet sounds of him pulling out slow, the slick slide leaving her clenching around nothing.
Their mingled arousal smeared her thighs, the mess seeping into the sheets, and he groaned at the sight of it.
But then the silence grew heavier.
The haze thinned, the guilt pressed in. He collapsed against her chest, forehead buried between her breasts, he let out a shaky breath.
Neither of them spoke. They couldn’t. Because the moment words entered, it wouldn’t just be lust anymore……it would be real.
And real was the one thing they couldn’t afford.
my greetings to all the jungkook lunatics, this is my first time writing a fic on tumblr, I’m a devoted reader but I also wanted to try writing even though english isn’t my first language, i hope whoever reads this oneshot had a fun time reading it! leave reviews if you can i would appreciate it so much <3 also I ain’t nobody’s mama but if I catch a minor engaging with this post, I will report their account.
