Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: In a world governed by clans and blood debts, nothing ever burns by accident; fading embers are nurtured carefully, mistaken for mercy and the gentle promise of warmth through the night. But fire answers to no one, and it has never spared what—or who—was foolish enough to keep it close.
Wordcount: 1.1k
Masterlist
It all happened too fast to make sense.
Jungkook’s chair scraped back before he realized he’d moved. The legs shrieked against marble, sharp as a blade drawn. His pulse crashed in his ears, louder than the gasps spreading through the hall, louder than the scrape of steel as hands twitched toward hidden weapons.
He had thought himself ready. He had thought he’d prepared for anything—ambush, double-speak, poisoned wine. But not this.
Never this.
Across the table, Namjoon didn’t so much as twitch. His posture was a study in restraint, shoulders square, jaw locked. Only his hand moved—up, once, calm, steady—and at the signal every Tiger in the room froze where they were. Jungkook saw the tremor in their knuckles, the barely restrained fury begging to be unleashed. But Namjoon’s gaze stayed forward, carved from stone, unreadable even now.
The matriarch of the Lee clan didn’t even bother looking down at the severed head. She didn’t need to. Her cherubic face, powdered ivory, remained a mask of sweet serenity. She folded her hands neatly over her brocade gown as though they sat at any ordinary dinner table.
“So much for celebrating peace,” Namjoon said. His voice carried—level, sharp, cutting through the vaulted silence like glass underfoot.
The matriarch tilted her head. A smile touched her plump lips, cloying as sugared fruit. “Peace?” she echoed softly, as though tasting the word. “I’ve no taste for it. I find it terribly overrated.”
Her eyes moved then—slowly, deliberately—sliding over the hall. She skimmed past the Tigers, past the Chois in their navy, past the gold-chained Kangs. Until they found him.
Black suit, leaning lazily in his chair. A faint smile tugging at his mouth, like a wolf invited to supper.
“War, though,” she went on, the sweetness in her tone turning sharp at the edges, “war I can work with.”
Her pause was a blade unsheathed, and everyone in the room felt the point of it.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Jaebeom-ssi?”
The name cracked like a whip.
Jungkook’s head snapped toward him, heart stuttering once, violently.
And Jaebeom didn’t hesitate. Didn’t feign surprise. Didn’t even blink.
He smirked—slow, deliberate—and for the first time that night he straightened, dark eyes glinting like a man stepping into his proper role at last. He reached for his glass, raised it with casual ease.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
The sound of it landed like a gunshot.
Jungkook felt the floor tilt beneath him, the air torn out of his lungs. Around them, men shifted in their seats, whispers flaring and dying like sparks. And still Namjoon sat perfectly still, stone-faced—though Jungkook caught it. The faintest flicker in his brother’s jaw, the smallest betrayal of tension at his temple.
Even Namjoon hadn’t seen this coming.
And everything—everything—was suddenly, horribly clear.
The Ravens hadn’t come as allies.
They hadn’t come to stand against the Snakes.
They had come to feast on the Tigers’ corpse.
The bottom dropped out of Jungkook’s chest.
The plan—the alliance—the quiet conviction that, outnumbered or not, they would fight shoulder to shoulder with the Ravens against the snakes—it was gone. Hollow. A lie.
They’d been played.
No—he’d been played.
And worse: she hadn’t warned him.
Y/N.
The silver-clad Park Princess.
She’d had the chance—Christ, she’d had the chance in the gallery, when her voice was soft and her eyes had almost cracked—and she hadn’t said a word.
« Careful, Tigers. She’s a raven, and we aren’t the most trustworthy of creatures, » Jaebeom had said earlier, « you wouldn’t want to find out the hard way. »
Jungkook saw it now in a sickening rush. Her composure, her silence, the way she hadn’t dared meet his gaze until the last second. Had she known? Had she been part of it all along?
Had he been the fool?
The questions stabbed sharper than any blade, each one cutting through marrow, leaving him hollow.
And still he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.
She stood frozen beside her brother, pale as porcelain, gaze locked on the head bleeding out over white linen. She didn’t flinch, didn’t recoil, didn’t speak. She looked carved out of stone.
And Jungkook—idiot that he was—still wanted to go to her. Still wanted to tear through the room, cut down anyone in his path, just to pull her away from the scene. The urge rose in him like a fever, and he hated himself for it, hated himself for the thought of shielding someone who might have been the one to put the knife in their back.
Because now the knives were out.
Steel slid from sleeves. Fingers brushed triggers. Wine glasses rattled against porcelain as the air grew thick, electric, seconds from splitting open.
Jaebeom’s smirk lingered, his glass lifted lazily, as though the carnage on the table were nothing more than a clever joke told well. His eyes slid across the hall—past the Tigers straining to stay still under Namjoon’s raised hand—and locked onto Namjoon himself.
There was no triumph in his look, no anger. Only that mocking ease, as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. He tipped his glass in a mock toast.
“I gotta say I’m surprised Daddy didn’t train you better, Kim Namjoon,” he said, voice cutting through the tense quiet. “Mistaking a Raven for something as dull as an ally,”—he smiled wider—“almost flattering, if it weren’t so stupid.”
A faint murmur rippled, sharp intakes of breath, shifting feet. Jungkook’s pulse thundered, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.
Then Joo-shil’s voice glided over the tension, warm and syrupy, almost indulgent. She didn’t look at the head, didn’t look at the men gripping hidden knives. She looked only at the Kims, her eyes soft as candied plums.
“Really, did you think you could come into our house,” she said sweetly, “and plot against us under our own roof? Did you think the serpent wouldn’t notice pests scurrying in its walls?”
Namjoon’s voice cut through the low murmur like the crack of a whip.
“You talk of plotting as if you hadn’t been the one weaving snares from the start.”
For the first time all evening, Joo-shil’s smile faltered. It was small—just the faint downturn of her lips, the barest tightening at the corners of her eyes. “Such ugly little words. Let us not pretend, hm? You came for a spectacle. And a good hostess… always delivers.”
Jungkook’s hand twitched toward the gun hidden in his jacket.
But he knew.
They were outnumbered.
They were outgunned.
And they were already trapped inside the serpent’s nest.
Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: In a world governed by clans and blood debts, nothing ever burns by accident; fading embers are nurtured carefully, mistaken for mercy and the gentle promise of warmth through the night. But fire answers to no one, and it has never spared what—or who—was foolish enough to keep it close.
Wordcount: 6.8k
Masterlist
—
“Don’t give them a reason to kill us before dessert.”
Namjoon’s words blurred as Jungkook’s gaze flickered back across the ballroom, on the sweep of silver fabric caught in Lee Taeyong’s arms.
Suddenly a high-pitched voice reached his ears.
« I, for one, can’t wait for dessert. »
Jungkook spun around a little too quickly and his shoulder clipped something solid. The clash of motion jolted him back to the present — a server staggering under the weight of a gleaming silver tray, a humongous cloche rattling precariously atop it. A muted gasp, the clatter of cutlery against porcelain.
The nervous boy managed to land the tray and cloche on the draped banquet table with a stammered apology and frantic bowing, but before he could retreat, the same girlish voice cut through the music.
“Careless idiot.”
The words dropped like ice into wine.
Lee Ahin, youngest Lee daughter, stood a mere pace away. The candlelight glinted off the jewels threaded into her hair. Her gaze was not on the flustered servant but on the offending splatter he’d caused: a small dark red stain, thick and glistening, now marring the pristine linen of the table.
“Don’t they teach you to be careful with expensive things in whatever backwater dump you crawled out of?”
Her tone as she spoke to the poor boy was icy but her expression was of boredom. Without hurry, she extended a hand, the lacquered tips of her nails grazing the cloth. She lifted her finger, crimson-tipped, and brought it to her lips while the poor server scurried away.
She looked directly at Jungkook as she tasted it.
“Strawberry,” Ahin declared with a bored sigh. Her tongue darted briefly across her fingertip. “My favourite.”
The music swelled again, but for Jungkook the world narrowed — her gaze, steady and superior, lingered a beat too long, as though daring him to flinch, to betray something beneath his mask. Then she turned, a dismissive tilt of her chin, and the servant scrambled away with the tray.
The scarlet stain on the linen remained.
—
The music was slow, stately, the kind that turned every step into ceremony. Y/N’s hand rested lightly against Lee Taeyong’s shoulder; his gloved palm pressed her waist with ease. They moved together as though they’d rehearsed, though she’d rather have been anywhere else.
“I didn’t peg you for a fan of ancient tragedies,” Taeyong said, his gaze fixed somewhere above her head.
She arched a brow. “And I didn’t peg you for a patron of the arts.”
A flicker of a smile. “My family makes it their business to acquire anything of value. »
« Charming. »
He frowned, « Have I offended you? »
« Not at all. »
« My family believes that beauty and meaning must be kept safe, preserved, owned. Otherwise, they decay in—lesser hands.”
Her jaw tightened. “Do you ever speak for yourself? Or only as a mouthpiece for your family?”
That drew his eyes to hers, sharp and pale. “Do you take issue with my family?”
She held his gaze, steady. “Should I not?”
The faintest pause, then his smile widened as if amused. “Or—is it me you don’t care for?”
Her gaze did not waver. “Does the distinction matter?”
“Of course,” he said softly, as though explaining something simple. “The family is eternal. The individual is only its steward. Some rise to embody its greatness. Others… fall short.” He guided her through a turn, his hand firm at her back. “But your presence tonight suggests you understand this kind of duty. That pleases me.”
Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “Duty is rarely as simple as men like to think.”
“Nor as difficult, if one accepts what cannot be changed,” he countered, still smiling.
« And what is that, may I ask? »
“That the world is built on bloodlines, Miss Park. And some blood runs clearer than others. Purity is not an idea, but a fact. The rest is noise.”
YN’s gaze did not flicker, though her jaw was tight. “Purity is a word men like to lean upon when it benefits them.”
Taeyong gave a soft laugh, entirely courteous. “Perhaps. Yet it is not so fragile a thing as cynics believe. It can endure. It is what one carries in the veins. One cannot counterfeit it with polish alone, nor lose it through the dust of—common company.” His eyes met hers only briefly, then drifted away as though he had said nothing remarkable.
“Common company,” she repeated, voice even.
“A figure of speech, of course,” he assured, tone almost apologetic. “I meant no insult. Only this — there are those who climb, who borrow grandeur, but they will never quite stand among us. It is not cruelty, only nature.” His smile was mild, impeccably courteous, as though the words were a compliment rather than a warning.
The string quartet swelled behind them. A pair of Chois passed in synchronized step, their uniforms crisp even in movement.
Taeyong’s grip shifted just slightly—not tighter, not looser. Just a little more intentional.
“You seem… conflicted,” Taeyong said gently, though his eyes were anything but soft. They were steady, studying, sharp. “Would it be out of line to ask why?”
Y/N’s lips pressed together. For a moment she let the music fill the silence between them—the bow stroke of the strings, the faint shimmer of crystal against crystal, the hiss of silk skirts turning.
At last she said, “Perhaps I simply don’t agree.”
“With what?”
“Your doctrine,” she said, the word like ash on her tongue. “The idea that blood alone defines us entirely. That no matter what we do, who we fight for, who we become—eventually, it always catches up. »
Her throat was tight now, and she forced herself to breathe through it, to keep her face as composed as his. But inside, the thought sickened her. Because if it were true—if blood always won—then she was nothing but the daughter of a monster, a sister to another, and fated to become one herself. That was the legacy running hot and red under her skin. No gown or flourish could scrub it out. It would follow her until her last breath. The idea was so heavy she thought, fleetingly, that it might be easier to put a bullet through her own skull than carry it another step.
Taeyong’s voice slipped through the spiral of thought. “And if not blood,” he asked softly, “then what, pray tell, would define us?”
She hesitated. The truth seemed impossibly small compared to the weight pressing on her chest. But only one answer came, sharp as flint.
“The choices we make,” she said at last, quiet but cutting. Her eyes flicked to his, a glint of steel under calm. “The company we choose to keep. Perhaps those should be what define us.”
The words landed between them like a blade left on a table—innocent to anyone who didn’t know its edge, dangerous to anyone who did.
The smile he gave her was faint, almost pitying. “How very… romantic.”
They circled with the music, eyes not quite meeting, words sharper than their smiles. Somewhere across the ballroom, she felt Jungkook’s gaze — a prickle at the back of her neck. She flicked her eyes toward him once, too quickly, then looked away.
Taeyong noticed.
Of course he did.
He chuckled under his breath, as though charmed. “You dance well for someone who claims disdain for our circles.”
“None of the merit is mine. One of those things they drill into you at boarding school,” she replied coolly.
His interest sharpened. “Boarding school? US?”
“UK.”
“Mm. My youngest sister, Ahin, is about to finish her schooling in the States. A small institution in Connecticut. She’ll be going on to Princeton in the fall.”
Of course, Y/N thought. The Lees were nothing if not predictable in their pursuit of respectability. Grooming their daughters for glossy American debuts, their sons for political dynasties.
“Congratulations,” Y/N said, because that was what one said when the Lees announced their acquisitions. “I’m sure she’ll acquire—something of value over there.”
That earned her a real smile—brief, bright, quickly shuttered. “You truly don’t care for us.”
“I don’t know you.”
He tilted his head like that answer pleased him. “Then allow me to make a poor first impression.”
“Please,” she said. “I hate surprises.”
He laughed under his breath, and the sound was clean as glass.
—
Jaebeom found them by the edge of the ballroom — Namjoon speaking low with Hoseok, Jungkook still watching the ballroom floor like a hunting dog straining its leash.
“Kim Namjoon,” Jaebeom said, his voice smooth as lacquer. He bowed just deep enough to be polite, just shallow enough to offend. “And the bastard brother.”
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but he returned the bow with a nod, every inch the diplomat. “Park Jaebeom. I trust you’re enjoying our hosts’ hospitality.”
“Oh, immensely. Those snakes really know how to stage a spectacle. Always did.” His eyes flicked past Namjoon — to Jungkook, sharp as a knife’s edge. He smiled. “Though I daresay the company is more entertaining than the décor.”
Jungkook’s fists curled at his sides. He kept his mouth shut.
“You’ve brought fine men with you,” Jaebeom continued, as if he hadn’t noticed. “Sharp suits, sharper eyes. Yet I see none so sharp as the ones watching my sister.”
Namjoon’s expression didn’t waver. “We’ve all kept watch over her. She was, after all, a guest in our house until recently.”
“A guest, yes” Jaebeom echoed, rolling the word on his tongue. Then, to Jungkook: “Tell me, did she behave herself? Or did she scratch at the bars of her cage? She always did have a restless streak.”
Jungkook’s jaw locked. “She’s not an animal.”
Jaebeom’s smile widened, pleased to have struck the nerve. “Ah. So, the lapdog speaks.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, though his words were meant to sting. “Tell me — did she keep you awake at night? Or was she still the quiet little bird I remember?”
Jungkook’s breath hitched. His nails bit into his palms.
Namjoon cut in, calm as ever. “We are here for diplomacy, not family drama. I trust you understand that.”
“Of course,” Jaebeom said lightly. But his eyes never left Jungkook. “Still, I’m curious. Does she fight you the way she fights me? With her teeth bared,” He tilted his head. “Or did she let you believe you’d tamed her?”
Jungkook took a step forward before he realized it, fury sparking hot and fast. Namjoon’s arm slid across his chest in a gesture so subtle it looked like nothing more than fraternity — but it stopped him in his tracks.
“Ah. So it’s true, » Jaebeom chuckled. « I can see it on your face. Careful, tigers. My sister’s a raven and we aren’t the most trustworthy of creatures. You wouldn’t want to find out the hard way.”
Namjoon sighed, « Let’s keep the fighting for later, shall we? »
Jaebeom grinned, « Now that we can agree on. But do keep your hound on a leash, Namjoon, » his eyes flickered to Jungkook with disdain, « he’s practically drooling on the floor. »
Then, with a shallow bow to Namjoon, the raven leader turned on his heels and melted back into the crowd.
—
Meanwhile Taeyong and Y/N spun through a pocket of air where perfume thinned and the orchestra’s bow work was the only living thing. He never looked down at his feet; he was the sort of man who assumed the ground would always be under him.
His gaze, though, kept finding her throat.
The ribbon Jaebeom had tied there was velvet-black against her skin. The small pendant lay where pulse met collarbone, a flash of old platinum when the chandelier light caught it.
“Heirloom?” Taeyong asked, when she made no move to tuck it away.
“Something like that,” she replied, a stern expression on her face.
His smile didn’t falter, but it thinned. “Do you always speak so bitterly about inheritance?”
“Only when I’m forced to wear it,” she said, and the pendant tapped once against her breastbone like a gavel.
“Well for what it’s worth, it suits you. »
“I’ll pass the compliment on to my brother.” She held his gaze, refusing the heat that crept up her neck at the thought of Jaebeom’s fingers tying the choker. “He approves of costumes.”
“You don’t?”
“I have a feeling you’ve never worn high heels.”
“That I have not.” He nodded at her ribbon. “Still, I find a costume to be a perfect way to send a message.”
The last word landed heavier than she expected. She had to inhale before she could laugh. “And you—what story does your ivory fabric tell the world?”
“That I’d better keep my hands clean, unless I want to face my tailor’s scorn.”
She almost smiled—almost. “Then let’s try not to make a mess.”
“I intend to be careful tonight.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise,” he said. “My family favors those.”
“My family favors debts,” she said.
“They’re surprisingly similar,” he murmured. “Promises. Debts. Easy to confuse if you’re not looking closely.”
Her eyes slid sideways, toward where the Tigers stood at a remove—black lapels, the bright slash of a tattoo here and there, Namjoon’s profile carved from quiet. Jungkook was gone from the spot where she’d last seen him.
“Careful,” Taeyong said softly, following her glance. “People will think you prefer stripes to feathers.”
“I prefer exits,” she said.
“You won’t find many,” he returned, almost kindly. “Not tonight.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am,” he said, and there was no arrogance in it. Only the smooth confidence of a man who’d read the program, timed the speeches, counted the glasses on the trays.
The final phrase of the piece unfurled. The dancers around them began to resolve into applause and breath, a slow breaking apart of the illusion. Taeyong lifted their joined hands the merest inch and lowered them again—formality satisfied, no fuss, no flourish. He did not try to keep her when the music ended. He did not need to. The Lees had always trusted gravity to do their work.
“Ms. Park.” He bowed. “Thank you for the dance.”
“Mr. Lee.”
He straightened—and for one heartbeat looked younger than the role had allowed him to be all night. “A word of advice?” he asked, tone almost conspiratorial.
She arched an eyebrow.
“Beware of men who look at you like a salvation,” he said, and the angle of his eyes told her he’d seen more than he let on earlier. “They’re always the ones who bleed the most.”
“I’ll sooner beware of men who look at me like an asset,” she said. “They tend to make sure everyone else bleeds.”
“You’ll find,” he said, stepping back, “the difference is often academic.”
He left her with that: polite, venomous, inevitable. She stood in the wake of him for a breath and then another, the ribbon at her throat suddenly too warm, the metal at its point too heavy.
« Enjoying yourself?” »
Jaebeom.
He appeared beside her without warning, half a step too close, smiling like a man who’d watched the entire dance and enjoyed it more than he should have. His tone was casual, brotherly, but his eyes lingered.
She straightened.
“Just keeping up appearances.”
His gaze dropped briefly to her collarbone, then rose again. “You do it well.”
Y/N did not move. She had been asked to dance; she had danced. She had been measured; she had measured back. She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth and tasted metal.
It would not be long now
—
Jungkook stood rigid, the heat of Jaebeom’s previous words still burning under his skin. He could feel his pulse in his fists, in his jaw, in the back of his throat where rage sat like bile.
A hand brushed his shoulder. Light, steady.
“Breathe,” Hoseok murmured.
Jungkook turned his head slightly. Hoseok’s expression was calm, composed, but his eyes — dark, steady — saw too much. Always had.
“I am breathing,” Jungkook muttered, though it came out more like a growl.
“Not like that,” Hoseok said softly, the corner of his mouth twitching. He angled himself so Jungkook couldn’t keep staring after Jaebeom, blocking the line of sight with his own body. “He wants you off-balance. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
Jungkook forced a laugh, bitter in his chest. “You think I care what he wants?”
“Yes,” Hoseok said simply. “Probably more than you should.«
Hoseok stayed at his side. He didn’t need to say anything; his presence was its own anchor. Jungkook’s fists slowly uncurled, his breath easing, though his chest still ached with something sharp.
They stood together for a while, half-shadowed by a marble column, watching the dancers spin. Of course it wasn’t long before Jungkook’s gaze landed back on Y/N.
Hoseok followed his gaze, and his mouth tilted in that crooked half-smile. “She cleans up well.”
Jungkook shot him a look. Hoseok only shrugged. “Don’t glare at me. I mean it in the most respectful way possible. She looks…” His voice softened, surprising even himself. “Strong.”
Jungkook shifted his weight, uncomfortable.
“And you,” Hoseok added, “look like you’re about two seconds from forgetting every rule Namjoon drilled into you about keeping distance.”
“Shut up.”Jungkook stiffened, heat crawling up the back of his neck. “It’s not—”
“Relax.” Hoseok cut him off with a laugh, clapping his shoulder. “I’m not judging. Quite the opposite. Truth be told, I kinda like her. She’s got spunk. Keeps you on your toes. » Hoseok went on quietly. “And if you ask me she’s got more guts than half the guys we’ve got on payroll.”
« Get to the point. »
Hoseok tilted his head slightly toward her figure moving across the floor. “I think that, if given the choice, she might not stay by her brother forever.”
Jungkook swallowed hard. He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t admitted anything, but Hoseok always knew.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Hoseok added with a crooked smile. “You forget I raised you. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
Jungkook scoffed under his breath. “You didn’t raise me.”
“Didn’t I?” Hoseok arched a brow, grinning now. “Who taught you how to throw a real punch? Who covered your ass the first dozen times you lost your temper in front of Namjoon? Who patched you up when you got cocky with a blade at fourteen and nearly bled out in the gardens?”
Jungkook tried not to smile, but it pulled at his mouth anyway. “You complain too much.”
“And you’d be dead three times over without me,” Hoseok said, mock-offended, and then his grin softened. “And you know I’d do it again. Every time.”
Jungkook looked at him then, really looked. The warm eyes, the steady smile. The brother who’d been there for every stumble, every scar. He felt something in his chest twist—affection so sharp it hurt.
Hoseok gave him that warm, lopsided grin—the one that had carried Jungkook through darker nights than he could count. “She’d be lucky. And you—” his voice dipped with something wistful, “—you deserve to have something for yourself. and don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. Don’t pretend you haven’t wanted something more than all this.” His hand gestured to the marble, the chandeliers, the weight of bloodlines pressing in. He exhaled through his nose, almost a sad laugh. “God knows I have.”
Jungkook swallowed hard, jaw tight. “You deserve better than this.”
“Maybe.” Hoseok gave another little shrug, the kind that tried to make light of truths too heavy to hold. “But better’s not what we got. This is. And I’ll take it—so long as you’re still standing at the end of it.”
It landed like a promise. Like the kind of vow only brothers make.
Jungkook wanted to say something back, to give him the same. But his chest was too tight,
Jungkook exhaled through his nose, almost scoffing. “She won’t stay.”
Hoseok chuckled, like the words amused him more than they should. “You sound awfully sure for someone who’s never asked.”
“She’s a Raven. She belongs to them.”
“So was Jimin. Look how that turned out.” Hoseok’s smile was wry. “Besides, it’s not about where you start. It’s about where you land.”
Jungkook shook his head. “It’s different for her.”
“Is it? Or do you just want to believe it is?” Hoseok’s voice wasn’t sharp, just maddeningly calm.
“She wouldn’t want to,” Jungkook muttered.
“Funny,” Hoseok said, tipping his glass with a crooked grin. “That’s what people used to say about me. And yet—here I am.”
That dragged the faintest twitch of a smile out of Jungkook. He shook his head. “Not for the sweet paycheck?”
Hoseok snorted. “Please. If I wanted money, I’d have married rich and opened a vineyard by now. No, I stayed because…” He let the words hang for a moment, his grin softening into something more solid. “Because some things are worth staying for, » he playfully nudged Jungkook. « Besides, » he added, « Somebody had to stick around and keep the peace around here. And I decided it was me.”
Jungkook shook his head, trying to mask the tightness clawing at his chest. “Idiot.”
“Maybe.” Hoseok lifted one shoulder, unbothered. “But at least I picked my fellow idiots wisely.”
The words settled heavier than they should have. Jungkook let them hang, glancing sideways at him, and in that instant all the noise of the hall seemed to dull. Hoseok had been there so long it was hard to imagine a time he hadn’t—arriving like sunlight through a crack in boarded-up windows, all warmth and stubborn cheer. And somehow, against all odds, he’d stayed. Through blood, through war, through every ruin that followed them, he’d remained. The one constant.
“It’s womb to tomb, remember?” Hoseok said, raising his glass in a half-toast.
Jungkook huffed out something like a laugh. “Sperm to worm,” he muttered back, the old childhood vow tasting both stupid and sacred on his tongue. He could still see it—two boys with scraped knees, spitting into their palms, toy guns tucked in their shorts.
Yeah. There had been one constant in his life. Only one. Always. It was stupid to expect anyone else would ever stick around.
Jungkook’s gaze flicked away, jaw set against the words clawing up. “Still,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t expect her to—.”
Hoseok rolled his eyes. “There you go again,” he said softly. “Classic Jungkook. Always expecting the worst.”
Jungkook frowned. “I’m being realistic.”
“No,” Hoseok countered gently, “you’re being you. Pushing people away rather than wait for them to leave on their own.”
The words landed like a stone in Jungkook’s chest.
“To be fair, she has tried to leave a bunch of times already,” he muttered, defensive.
Hoseok’s grin softened into something closer to fondness. “Two sides of the same coin, the both of you. Running and holding, pushing and pulling. Least you can do is let her choose if she wants to. »
Jungkook’s chest tightened. “And if she doesn’t?”
“Then she doesn’t.” Hoseok shrugged. “But maybe she does. Maybe what she needs isn’t another cage or another test. Maybe she just needs a sign.”
Jungkook’s brow furrowed. “A sign?”
“That the door’s open,” Hoseok said simply. “That if she chose to stay—really chose it—she wouldn’t be turned away.”
Jungkook let out a short, humorless sound. “You really think she’d—”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
Jungkook didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His chest felt hot and tight, a storm of things he didn’t have words for.
Hoseok drained the rest of his glass and set it down. “Life’s short, brother. Shorter in our line of work.” His eyes flicked back to Jungkook’s. “Don’t waste it.”
The words echoed in Jungkook’s ears.
He couldn’t hear the music anymore. Couldn’t hear the scrape of cutlery, or the polite laughter.
There was only her.
Y/N.
Across the ballroom she stood with that impossible composure, a figure carved out of moonlight. Her gown, pale silk, shimmered silver each time she moved in ways that left him breathless. She didn’t fidget, didn’t preen like the wives and daughters of other clans. She stood as though she’d been forged upright, chin level, eyes unflinching.
God help him—she was devastating.
His throat was dry, his palms damp. His body felt caged inside the tux, shoulders too broad, breath too short.
She was too far. Too far to touch, too far to speak to. But close enough to undo him.
Christ, he wanted her.
Entirely.
Not just this polished vision of her—but the woman beneath, the one who spat curses and snapped like flint, the one who had once asked him not to leave her alone.
Yes. He wanted her in every way a man could want a woman.
Not just to look. Not just to ache. He wanted to touch.
He wanted to feel the shape of her hip under his hand, the warmth of her thighs opening for him. He wanted to kiss her until she gasped against his mouth, to taste the sound of his name breaking from her lips. He wanted to unlace her, layer by layer, until there was nothing left between them but heat and skin and hunger. He wanted to bury himself in her and stay there until she forgot her own name and remembered only his.
But it wasn’t only the flesh.
Of course not.
He wanted the battles, the breaking, the making up. Wanted every hard, ugly, beautiful piece of her until death.
It was a madness.
But he did.
He wanted her anger—the way she would slam a door so hard the frame shook, knowing he’d stand there on the other side, breathing heavy, until she let him in again. He wanted her contemptuous eye-rolls, the sharp words that would cut him, the fights that would leave them both shaking. Yes. He wanted to argue with her until his throat was raw, and then argue more because neither of them knew how to quit. He wanted to sit across from her in silence, both of them sulking, until one of them broke, or until she’d finally crawl into bed and let herself be held.
He wanted the way she clenched her jaw when she was trying not to feel. He wanted the hollow places she kept hidden and the weight she carried when she thought no one saw. He wanted all of it. All of her.
If she let him, he would spend the rest of his life proving it.
And he wanted the small things, too. The ones he shouldn’t even dare imagine. The brush of her hand when she handed him a towel. Her hair damp, curling at her temples after a shower. He wanted her mornings, groggy and foul-tempered, hair tangled, cursing at the stupid fucking toaster. He wanted her barefoot, complaining that he never got the right kind of rice.
He even wanted the ugly parts. The parts that scared her. He wanted to wake to her nightmares and hold her until they passed. He wanted to fight her shadows with her, even if they cut him too. He wanted her worst days, her sharpest edges, her rage, her silence. Every burden she thought would break someone—he wanted it. He wanted to take every wound, every scar, every buried bruise and lay them across his own skin until they belonged to him too.
Yes.
He wanted all of it—the ugly, the quiet, the bursts of fire. Every last jagged edge. The scars beneath the silk, the sharp edges, the fire she bit back behind those still eyes. Every fracture her father carved into her, every burden her brother had chained to her shoulders. He wanted those too.
He would take every blade meant for her, chase every ghost until she finally believed that not every hand reaching for her meant to hurt.
And if she let him, he would spend the rest of his days proving it.
That no chain could hold her alone. That every scar could be borne by two. That men like Lee Taeyong, and Jaebeom, and every other wolf that had circled her never got the chance to ever again.
The thought made him ache so badly he almost doubled over.
Because he knew what it meant, for someone like him, to want like that. To want not just the body, but the burden. Not just the kiss, but the fight after. Not just the burn, but the endless aftermath of it all.
And the worst part—the part that gutted him—was knowing he’d take even half of that. A sliver. One hour of her in the quiet of morning. One fight. One laugh. One night tangled in sheets. He’d take it, even if it ruined him.
Because she was ruin already. His ruin.
She had been from the moment they’d met.
If the unuverse gave him the smallest sign, he would walk across the room and take her hand. He would claim her in front of everyone—brother, allies, enemies be damned—and dare anyone to pry her from him.
A hand landed on his back. Hoseok.
A solid pat. Steady, knowing. Approval without words. As if to say, stop torturing yourself and go to her already.
For the first time, Jungkook let himself believe he could.
He took a step forward, heart thundering. Another. His throat burned with everything he’d say once he reached her, all the things he’d kept chained.
Her gown caught the light again, a sweep of silvered moon, and he swore he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
One more step—
Ding. Ding. Ding.
A silver spoon against crystal cut through the noise and the room obeyed as if under command. The hush was reverent, uneasy.The music silenced, laughter withered, and heads tilted toward the grand staircase.
Jaebeom reached for his sister before anyone else did, his hand landing at the small of her spine—light, possessive, identical to the way he’d guided her down corridors as a child. A correction. A claim. “Breathe,” he said, the word warm against the shell of her ear. He smoothed a non‑existent wrinkle from the porcelain silk at her hip, an intimate, ridiculous gesture that made her want to knock his hand away and bolt. “You’re holding your shoulders too high.”
“I’m fine,” she answered, and heard how it wasn’t true.
He hummed, satisfied, and left his palm where it was. She could feel the steady weight of it as the room pivoted toward the stairs.
And then, she appeared.
A figure descended slowly, one hand gloved in ivory lace resting on the balustrade, the other tucked beneath folds of satin so white it seemed to glow in the golden light.
Lee Joo-shil.
The matriarch.
Small, stout, absurdly compact—her face, which seemed cherubic at first glance, was pale and round as a wheel of brie, powdered smooth with the faint sheen of wax. Two eyes beamed out of that pale mask, soft and wet as sugared plums, and her lips, painted rose-petal pink, pursed in a smile so cloying it made the throat tighten. She looked, YN thought, like a sweet left too long in the sun: delicate, sticky, already beginning to rot.
Yet the air bent around her. Servants froze. Men in their tuxedos, gold chains, uniforms—beasts and merchants alike—turned docile. She held no sword, but she seemed to inspire more fear than any samurai. The eldest Lee son and his wife stepped back with flawless smiles, ceding the room as though this were ritual—because it was.
YN felt Jaebeom’s hand find her again, the weight of it on her spine steadying, branding. His fingers pressed once, like a warning, or a claim. Something was happening—something that set her heart drumming and her lungs drawing too shallow—and yet she could not name it. The ballroom was all glitter and gilt, yet under it she felt the swell of some tide about to break.
The matriarch reached the marble floor and spread her hands, voice spilling like honey over crystal:
“My beloved friends. How radiant you all are tonight. The clans of this nation—our clans—come together under this roof, in this home, which has endured centuries of fire, wars and famines, yet still shines.« Her smile lingered, but it did not reach her eyes. Those soft eyes glittered sharp as shards.
Jungkook, from across the hall, felt his throat close. He had seen warlords, killers, bosses who carried the weight of blood. None unnerved him the way this woman did. He watched Namjoon’s jaw tighten, Hoseok’s hand flex by his cuff. The Tigers and Ravens spread all over the ballroom were already bracing, though nothing had been said yet.
And yet the air bent around the woman. Servants stilled like chessmen, even the Kang men with their gold chains softened their jaws, and the Choi officers came to attention by instinct.
“Yes,” the matriarch cooed when she reached the marble—how did a voice that soft carry so far?—“what a beautiful sight.” Her breathy syllables floated over crystal and silk voice lilting, airy — as though she addressed grandchildren rather than a conclave of clans. “Five houses under one roof. Five histories under one ceiling. We are honored to host this Summit, as our fathers and their fathers did before them. The Charter endures. So do we.”
A little ripple of approval fluttered, relieved to have lines to applaud.
She smiled wider. The smile never reached those plummy eyes. “Ours is a house of old habits,” she went on, hand gliding down the polished rail as if petting a favored hound. “Tradition. We set our tables properly. We name our guests carefully. We keep what is precious… firmly.” A fractional pause.
Jaebeom’s thumb pressed once against Y/N’s spine. Not warning. Agreement.
Y/N stared at the lacquered floor. She could feel something organizing around her—positions aligning, glances stitching themselves into a pattern just out of sight. A choreography she hadn’t been given. The dread wasn’t loud; it crept. It lapped at the underside of her ribs, cold and patient.
Y/N lowered her gaze. Every syllable wrapped in honey, yet something sharp pricked beneath it — an insinuation, a warning. She felt her stomach knot.
The Matriarch moved slowly along the front rows, her gown sweeping ivory silk across marble. People bowed, one after another, murmuring greetings. When she reached Y/N, instinct pressed her spine forward, her head down. The air was heavy with perfume, roses and powder.
Fingers tipped her chin up. Soft, unyielding.
“My, my,” Mrs. Lee cooed, her sweet eyes fixed on Y/N’s face. “Such beauty. Such youth. »
Heat stung Y/N’s cheeks. She held her breath, forced her face blank. Behind her, Jaebeom’s presence loomed, approving in silence.
« Pure, » Joo-shil added, her gaze flickering to Jaebeom, « as driven snow. »
From across the hall, Jungkook saw it. Her bow. The old woman’s hand against her chin. The words he couldn’t hear, but he felt them — saw the faint tremor in Y/N’s throat, the way her shoulders stiffened. His fists clenched. Every instinct screamed to move, but Namjoon’s hand brushed his sleeve in warning. Not yet.
The Matriarch let Y/N go, and turned toward the long banquet table. The gleaming silver tray waited at its center, crowned with a cloche so polished it warped the chandelier light into ghostly reflections.
“Tonight is not just a celebration of tradition,” the Matriarch continued, “but of reconciliation. For too long, our clans have been fractured. Distrust has festered. But the Lee family remains committed—to healing. To unity. To the binding of old wounds.”
There were nods. Polite ones.
And yet—
Y/N’s pulse ticked faster.
She scanned the room. Namjoon—expression unreadable, watching intently. Jungkook—rigid, hands folded tightly before him. Taeyong standing near a pillar, eyes narrowed like a predator mid-blink.
Too quiet. Too still.
“Let this evening mark a new chapter,” the Matriarch said, lifting her glass. “Not one written in ash and accusation—but in shared vision.”
Y/N turned her head slightly, scanning the room without moving her shoulders.
Jungkook—tense, unreadable. His hands were folded neatly on the table but the muscle in his jaw was rigid.
Namjoon sat utterly still. His eyes, half-lidded in the way they often were when calculating, didn’t blink.
Taehyung had angled his body subtly away from the Kangs. Strategic. Not unusual.
And Jaebeom—at her side, not saying anything. Not making a scene. Not making a show.
But unusually quiet.
Too quiet.
That was the first thing that struck her.
“Tonight is a reminder. Of the importance of legacy. Of lineage. Of the strange and winding paths that lead us back to one another—even when we have spent so—so long apart.”
Her eyes passed gently over the room. Past the Kims. Past the Chois and Kangs. And then—ever so delicately—to the Parks.
“But more than anything,” she continued, “tonight is a promise.”
She took a single step toward the table, stopping just behind the severed head.
“A promise that what is wild… what is unruly and would tear our world by tooth and claw…”
She placed a gentle hand on the linen, her finger tracing the small red stain that still lay next to the cloche.
“…has no place at the table anymore.”
Another pause.
A breathless stillness.
“And so,” she said, lifting her glass, “Let us raise our glasses,” she said, her voice as gentle as snowfall, “to civility.”
Her tone was warm. Unthreatening. It reminded Y/N of a woman she’d once seen in the North, tenderly skinning a rabbit while humming a lullaby.
“To old ties and newer intentions,” she continued. “To the delicate art of diplomacy,” the Matriarch continued. There was a low, approving murmur.
« And most importantly, » Her smile deepened, just slightly, “To the grace of knowing where your loyalties lie—before you’re asked to choose.”
The room raised its glasses.
“And what is hospitality,” she said, her tone bright as bells, “without a gift for our guests? Let us show the character of our house. My dear,” — the matriarch sang, her gaze slid back to Y/N, « Would you do us the honor?” She indicated the dome with a gloved fingertip. “A host mustn’t be greedy with her surprises.”
Y/N’s breath caught. She had not touched the cloche, had not even noticed it waiting there. The tray seemed to hum, a pulse of dread vibrating through the silver. All eyes in the hall turned to her. Her brother’s hand pressed lightly to her back, a command disguised as support.
She stepped forward. Her palms were damp against the silk of her gown.
Jungkook’s heart was pounding. He wanted to shout, to stop her, though he didn’t know why. It was only a tray, only a speech — and yet the way the air held still, the way Y/N moved as if walking to the gallows—
Y/N’s mouth went dry. Her hand found the cool arch of the handle. The silver was so cold it burned. For a heartbeat, she saw a dozen faces ripple in its curve—Namjoon’s profile like carved stone; Hoseok’s careful smile gone still; Jungkook a slash of black at the edge of the crowd, eyes already fixed on her like a pulled wire; Taeyong with a glass in two fingers, the liquid untroubled.
Her fingers curled around the handle. The scrape of silver against silver echoed sharp and obscene.
She lifted.
For a moment, no one breathed.
Then—
A gasp.
The silver dome clattered from Y/N’s hand to the marble floor with a deafening sound, but no one moved, no one spoke. The entire ballroom seemed to collapse into silence, every gaze locked on the grotesque centerpiece it had unveiled.
A wet glisten caught the candlelight.
First, the fur: striped, coarse, black against orange, stiff with blood.
Then, the slack jaw, lips peeled back to bare curved fangs.
The eyes followed, glassy and dull, staring upward through the sheen of death.
A trickle of dark liquid slipped free, trailing over the lace beneath, staining it vein-red across the white cloth.
It was only when the smell hit — copper, iron, something raw and unmistakably animal — that her mind caught up with her eyes.
The Lee’s present wasn’t a roast.
I wasn’t a sweet delicacy, nor was it some precious heirloom.
Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: In a world governed by clans and blood debts, nothing ever burns by accident; fading embers are nurtured carefully, mistaken for mercy and the gentle promise of warmth through the night. But fire answers to no one, and it has never spared what—or who—was foolish enough to keep it close.
Wordcount: 3.9k
Masterlist
—
Y/N woke up to the sensation of something digging into her spine.
She didn’t open her eyes.
Not yet.
The ache running through her body was too total for anything but real life. Her hip throbbed. Her throat was dry. Her limbs felt waterlogged, like they’d been left to soak overnight.
The dirt beneath her smelled like rot and ash. Her boots were still damp. Something—a mosquito, probably—buzzed near her temple and moved on.
She knew exactly where she was. And she hated it.
A bead of sweat slid down her ribcage.
Still, she didn’t move. Not until she heard it: the soft, deliberate rustling of something alive nearby.
She cracked one eye open.
A few feet away, crouched low in the underbrush, Jungkook was reaching into a cluster of bushes. His head was bowed, arm extended, fingers curling around something she couldn’t see yet. The line of his shoulders was relaxed. Focused.
He plucked something and drew it back to himself with surprising care.
When he turned, she saw what he was holding.
Small. Red. Shiny.
Berries.
A bunch of them, nestled in the cradle of his palm like an offering.
“Took you long enough,” he said, without looking at her. “Look what I just found.” He rose to his full height and turned to face her, arm outstretched.
She squinted at the fruit, immediately recognizing the shiny, crimson skin, the dark stem. Her pulse ticked.
Shit.
He held them up like a proud toddler. “Breakfast is served,” he sounded almost cheerful. Poor guy.
She sat up slowly. Her muscles were lead. Her mouth was dry. Her stomach was eating itself.
She was starving.
So was he.
She stared at him. Then at the berries.
Belladonna. Deadly nightshade. A beginner-level hazard. Every kid trained north could identify it by shape alone. Glossy, red, pretty enough to trick fools. Two or three and you’d be convulsing, blood vessels popping in your eyes. Four or five? That’s goodbye forever.
She didn’t answer right away. Just watched as Jungkook bounced one berry in his palm.
She could stop him.
Or she could say nothing.
Just a breath of silence. A twitch of the eye. Let him seal his own fate.
It wouldn’t be quick. He’d choke on his own spit, his stomach cramping into knots, his pupils dilating as the world spun out of reach.
It would be slow and ugly. Satisfying. She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
But—
As his hand lifted, as one berry touched his lips—
Slap.
Her palm hit his wrist hard, sending the berries scattering across the dirt.
“You absolute fucking idiot.”
He blinked. “Jesus. What the f—”
“You were about to swallow five milligrams of instant death. Do I need to draw you a diagram?”
He blinked down at the ruined berries, half-crushed in the soil. “I was what?”
“Poison,” she snapped. “Belladonna. You don’t recognize that?”
He rubbed his wrist. “I—no. It looked edible.”
She stared at him like she couldn’t believe her life.
“You don’t just put random stuff in your mouth because it looks edible, you moron.”
His mouth opened, then closed again.
“Christ’s sake,” she sighed, folding her arms, “maybe Darwin had a point, after all. You’re lucky I haven’t let natural selection take its course.”
He looked down at the mess on the ground, then back at her.
There was a beat of quiet.
And then—unbelievably—he grinned.
She narrowed her eyes. “What.”
“Nothing,” he said. But he was still grinning.
“What is it, now?”
“Nothing. I just—“ he leaned back against a tree, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t kill me.”
She blinked.
His eyes gleamed, all wolfish amusement.
Her eyes narrowed into slits.
His smile widened slightly. “What? It’s true.”
“Fuck off,” she seethed.
“You were considering letting me eat them though, huh?” he said, sounding amused. “Letting me croak right here, curled in a fetal position, frothing at the mouth.”
Her silence was damning. His brow arched.
“That long pause before you stopped me? Yeah. I felt that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just didn’t want your little tiger friends showing up, finding your bloated corpse, and deciding to blame your shitty survival skills on me.”
He pushed off the tree with a shrug. “Sure. Self-preservation. Makes sense.”
She started walking again. “Besides, poison’s for cowards. Snakes.”
He followed her. “You say that like you’ve got other plans for my end.”
She looked over her shoulder, deadpan. “You say that like I don’t.”
That shut him up.
—
The jungle heat was relentless — sweat clung to Y/N’s spine, her boots squelched with every step, and leaves kept slapping her in the face like the trees had it out for her.
Another day of walking to God knows where. YN, at the very least, had managed to find water for them to drink as well as some leaves they could chew on without choking to death. That made her over confident. And gave her reason to rant endlessly.
She ducked under a low branch, then swatted a mosquito from her neck with the flat of her hand. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.”
Jungkook said nothing.
She stepped over a root, nearly tripping. “You’ve got zero instinct. None. Like, genuinely—I’m beginning to think you were factory-grown in a lab with a gun stapled to your hand and nothing else.”
Still nothing.
“No spatial awareness, no plant recognition, no caution, no weather-reading—”
Jungkook kept walking ahead of her, silent, steady.
“Would you even have found clean water without me? No, of course not. That’s’cause you were only trained in ‘Point, Shoot, Brood.’”
He still didn’t respond.
“Right,” she added with a grin. “I almost forgot I’m talking to the world’s grumpiest Swiss Army knife.”
He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
Y/N blinked, mid-rant. “What, did I strike a nerve?”
He turned.
Fast.
Gun raised.
Aimed—directly at her.
She froze.
No breath. No movement. No more punchline.
Her heart slammed up into her throat.
“Okay,” she said slowly, hands lifting just slightly in surrender, “I know I’m a pain in the ass, but there’s really no need to actually shoot m—”
“Duck,” Jungkook said, voice sharp.
“What?”
“Duck. Now.”
She dropped like a stone just as the shot rang out — a sharp crack that split the jungle silence like a whip. Birds exploded into flight overhead, screeching through the thick canopy.
Y/N hit the ground with a thud, mud squelching under her palms.
Silence followed.
Heart racing, she twisted around—and froze.
Some sort of wildcat lay just feet behind where she’d been standing. Its lean, muscled body sprawled motionless in the undergrowth. A small pool of blood darkened the leaves beneath its twitching limbs.
Jungkook lowered his gun slowly. His jaw was tight. His expression unreadable.
And his chest—she only noticed now—was rising and falling fast.
Y/N swallowed hard. “…Okay. Um. Wow.”
Still kneeling, she glanced at the animal, then up at him again.
“You really—uh—could’ve just said ‘behind you,’ you know.”
Jungkook gave her a long look, then holstered his weapon.
“Like you would’ve listened,” he muttered.
She pushed herself to her feet, wiping dirt off her knees.
Jungkook fully lowered the smoking barrel of his gun with a sharp exhale. His eyes scanned the trees before flicking back to her.
“Well,” she muttered, brushing a stray curl off her damp forehead, “I guess we’re having tiger for dinner.”
“Not a tiger,” Jungkook corrected absently, eyes still alert.
“I was being poetic,” she deadpanned.
He glanced at her, almost smiling. Almost. Then looked down at the creature, checking the shot. Right through the ribs.
“Still breathing. Barely,” he murmured.
It lay slumped across the underbrush, one paw twitching like it hadn’t caught up to the rest of its body. Its side rose and fell in shallow, erratic movements.
She stood frozen for a second, staring at it.
Then she crouched.
Slowly.
She didn’t say anything. Just reached out and dragged her hand, once, across the creature’s flank. Its fur was warm, impossibly soft beneath her dirty fingers. She let her palm rest there for just a breath.
Jungkook said nothing.
But she could feel his eyes on her. Watching. Waiting.
She exhaled through her nose. Then extended her hand—not toward the animal, but back over her shoulder.
Open palm. Fingers splayed.
She didn’t look at him.
But he knew what she wanted.
There was a pause.
A long one.
She could feel the weight of it. The choice. The risk.
He still had every reason not to trust her. A knife was never just a knife between a raven’s fingers. It was usually a threat. A promise.
But finally—she felt the cold handle press into her palm.
She closed her fingers around it without a word.
And when she turned her face slightly toward him, just enough for him to see her profile, he noticed something he didn’t expect—restraint. Not calculation. Not thrill.
Just the solemn quiet of someone about to do something awful because someone has to.
She leaned over the animal and murmured something. Nothing he could make out. Just soft sound. A farewell, maybe.
Then—
Clean. Precise. One swift movement of the blade.
The animal jerked once. Then went still for good.
Jungkook stood a few feet back, weight shifted to one hip, arms crossed tight, like he didn’t want to be affected. But something in his face was off. Not fear. Not pride. Just… the awareness that this version of her—the one who could touch death so gently—was not the version he’d been fighting with all these months.
He blinked once. Twice.
“You’re… disturbingly good at that,” he muttered, still standing beside her.
She shrugged. “Up north, this is the best case scenario.”
He gave her a wary side-eye. “What’s the worst?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “You don’t wanna know.”
Jungkook raised a brow. “So, you’ve done this before, then.”
“A few times,” she said. “Animals, mostly. Sometimes you don’t get to choose the menu.”
“…Don’t tell me this is some ‘I ate my first comrade at fourteen’ kinda story.”
She didn’t blink. “Fourteen’s a little late, don’t you think?”
He stiffened
But suddenly, she cracked a grin. “Jesus fuck—no! No, I’ve never consumed human flesh, you absolute lunatic. What the hell do you think we are up there?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he said defensively. “You Park people are like myths to half the country. With your creepy border rituals. Blood oaths. Disappearances.”
She snorted. “Sure. But believe it or not, I draw the line at people stew.”
Jungkook didn’t laugh—but his posture relaxed a little. She could see it.
He let out a long, slow breath. “You’re not funny.”
“I wouldn’t insult the woman holding the knife if I were you.”
He glanced down at the animal again. “Go on, then. Show me what you can do.”
Y/N sat back, blade glinting as she positioned it over the carcass. “The trick is precision. You don’t go in hacking like a lunatic. There’s a method to it. A craft. A body wants to come apart a certain way—you just have to respect it.”
He watched, saying nothing.
She continued, slicing through fur and sinew without so much as a flinch. “Rough hands make a mess. A clean cut feeds the next day whereas a butchered one brings nothing but flies.”
The jungle heat pressed in on them, thick and slow, but she didn’t falter.
Jungkook folded his arms. “Who taught you all this?”
“You live, you learn,” she said simply. “Or—well—I suppose you die.”
Jungkook’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes didn’t stray from her hands. He expected her to flinch, maybe to gag. But she barely blinked.
“Start with the underside,” she murmured to herself, finding the rib line. “Avoid the stomach if you don’t want to get coated in bile.”
She drew the blade cleanly along the line. The cut was smooth. Precise.
He crouched closer, watching intently as she worked.
She made a second incision, separating the hide without slicing into the meat. Her hands were steady. Focused.
She went back to the body, muttering, “It’s an an art, really. A cut should always be clean. Clean means respect. Even a wild animal deserves that.”
Jungkook tilted his head. “You’re serious,” he said, doubtful.
“Dead serious,” she said without irony. “Precision matters. It’s about control. Intent. You don’t rip something apart if you can take it apart cleanly.”
The knife flashed in the filtered light. She sliced through sinew like silk.
“Besides,” she added with a faint smile, “you only make a mess when you’re emotional. And emotional people don’t last long.”
Jungkook didn’t respond. He just kept watching.
Not her hands anymore—her face. Focused. Confident. Unbothered by blood. And somehow… almost serene.
This was a side of her he hadn’t seen before. Not the sharp-tongued, caged raven. Not the arrogant heiress or bitter rival.
He swallowed something down and sat back on his heels.
The animal was nearly ready.
“You know,” she said as she wiped the blade on a patch of moss, “if I really wanted to, I could’ve slit your throat with this instead.”
Jungkook arched a brow. “I know.”
A pause.
“I figured you’d wait until after dinner, though,” he shrugged, “fatten me up first.”
She smirked. “You know me well.”
—
By the time the fire was built, dusk had started folding itself into the edges of the jungle.
The air was thick. Sweet with sap and smoke. Every inch of Y/N’s body ached, but it was a good ache—a worked muscle. The meat hissed over the flames, giving off a smell that was wrong but promising.
They sat across from each other, their shadows flickering across dirt and tree bark.
Jungkook was cleaning his gun again—long, slow drags of cloth down steel. It was more habit than purpose. She could tell.
Y/N watched the fire.
Neither of them spoke.
The meat crackled. Fat hissed.
Jungkook shifted, leaned back on one hand. “Smells… edible.”
Y/N raised a brow. “That’s the line, I guess.”
He smirked faintly. “We’ve both eaten worse.”
She broke off a small piece, tore it with her teeth. Chewed.
Not amazing. But tender enough. Heavy with iron and smoke.
It tasted like necessity.
Jungkook watched her for a beat, then tried his. He made no comment. Which was his version of approval.
They sat like that a while—eating in silence, letting the fire do the talking.
They lapsed back into quiet, chewing and swallowing in rhythm with the crickets. The meat wasn’t awful—it was just the kind of food that reminded you how desperate you were. The kind that didn’t taste like much of anything except survival.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Y/N muttered after a moment, “but I’d kill for one of those overcooked roasts they serve at the mansion.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “The ones that were dry as sand?”
“Exactly,” she said, sighing. “With those grainy potatoes. And the weird, sour jam. God. Heaven.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “Says a lot about where we are right now.”
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t trade this”—she held up the slightly charred meat—“for even a bowl of that weird pink stew they used to serve on Thursdays?”
He looked over at her. “That was beetroot jjigae. It’s actually a regional thing. Southern provinces.”
She blinked. “That had a name?”
Jungkook smirked faintly. “It’s better when it’s done right. My mom—”
The moment the word left his mouth, he went still.
His expression did too. Just slightly. Like he wanted to shove the word back into his mouth and pretend it had never left.
Just for a second. Just a breath.
Y/N didn’t say anything. Didn’t react. Just tore off another piece of meat. Gave him the option.
But she noticed the change in him. The slight pull at the corners of his mouth. The way his eyes dropped back to the fire like they’d betrayed him.
Then: “Hers was different,” he said. “Sweeter. Less vinegar. She used to serve it with these cold noodles on the side—chilled, with cucumber and a ton of sesame oil.” He wasn’t performing now. Just remembering. Just speaking. “She used to make it when she was—”
He cut himself off. Looked at the fire again. His gaze was cloudy.
Y/N didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
But the flames danced in her eyes like they were holding their breath.
“Your mom,” she said quietly, after a pause. “She, uh, she died when you were young, right?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His hands had gone still on the blade.
“Yeah.”
There was no elaboration. Just that single syllable, heavy as stone.
She didn’t press.
“She wasn’t well,” he said finally, voice low, eyes on the fire, like the memories of a past life dances in the flames. “My mother.”
A pause. She didn’t interrupt.
“She used to cry at night. Loud. It was like something inside her was breaking and putting itself back together wrong.”
Y/N listened. Carefully. Not with pity. Not with wide-eyed horror. Just… presence.
“When she died, people said it was a relief,” Jungkook added. His voice stayed level, but there was something underneath it now. Bitter. “Said she was better off. Said I was better off.”
“And—were you?” Y/N asked softly.
He didn’t answer. Just stared harder into the flames.
They both fell quiet again. The fire popped. The sound of frogs filled the silence, but he could feel her watching him.
“She was sick,” he added, like that excused it all, “that’s all.”
Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged once, the motion tight across his shoulders, and cleared his throat. “It was a long time ago.”
She stared at him, breath caught.
“I was seven,” he said, “when I found her.”
Jungkook didn’t speak again after that.
He just stared into the fire, his jaw tight, shoulders set like he was bracing for something. Like he wanted to fold himself small, vanish into the crackle of the flames.
Y/N didn’t move.
She could feel it—the way his posture had changed. Not defensive. Just… bare. Like he’d peeled back some layer of skin without meaning to and now he wasn’t sure how to hold himself. His eyes flicked to her once, fast, then back to the fire like he hadn’t meant it.
The silence grew taut again. She knew better than to speak too quickly. Knew the wound was still bleeding under his ribs, even if he’d stopped talking.
A story told too fast. A name dropped too casually. The silence after. The flinch in the muscles of his arm.
He hadn’t meant to say it all. And now he didn’t know what she would do with it.
Mock him? Pity him? Twist the knife?
She could. God knew she’d done worse.
But instead—
Instead, she decided to give something back.
Not to be generous. Or kind.
Moreso to be fair.
So he wouldn’t have to sit there feeling like the only raw thing left in the light.
She exhaled deeply.
“I was eight,” she finally mumbled.
He looked up at her, taken aback.
But then she looked past him, into the darkness.
“When my mom died,” she added with a clench of her jaw. “We were out, just the two of us, walking in the woods before dawn.” A chill ran through her, as though she could still feel the cold morning air on her skin. “Up north, when the fog’s thick, you can’t see five feet in front of you,” she paused. “She told me to run when they came. So I did.”
A pause
“That was it.”
She kept her gaze fixed on the darkness, her arms tightening around her knees. Jungkook watched her a moment longer, then nodded.
Her voice was steady, too steady.
She swallowed. “When I walked back to camp after my father found me, we saw her from a distance. The birds had already started gathering.”
He didn’t speak, and she didn’t meet his eyes. Her voice had dulled to something mechanical.
“That’s how it goes where I’m from,” she added. “We don’t bury our dead. The ravens take care of it.”
Jungkook’s fingers flexed slightly. “I’m sorry.”
She finally looked at him, and there was a flicker of something else—something dark and distant—behind her eyes. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Me too.”
What she didn’t say, though, was that it was a lie.
Or more like a willful omission. She gave Jungkook the version the world knew. The version they could both live with.
He nodded once. Didn’t push. But something in his eyes flickered—because he knew what a real memory sounded like, and what a rehearsed one did.
Y/N had delivered it like a bedtime story.
Neat. Clean. Empty.
“Anyway,” she could feel his eyes on her, even when he looked away. So, she added, too quickly, “It’s all in the past. No point dwelling on it.”
Jungkook shifted. Didn’t speak. Let it hang there. Instead, he tossed another piece of kindling into the fire. The flames flared.
—
The fire had gone low. Just a glow in the dirt, snapping once in a while to remind them it was still alive.
Y/N sat with her legs outstreched, knife across her lap, eyes on the trees. The jungle never slept. It just changed shape in the dark.
She’d insisted on taking first shift this time. Not because she didn’t trust Jungkook—though she didn’t—but because sitting still and staring at the dark felt easier than closing her eyes and seeing things she didn’t want to see.
Beside her, Jungkook had passed out fast. Typical.
She hadn’t meant to glance over.
But she did.
He looked…
She didn’t have a word for it.
She ripped her gaze away fast.
He shifted in his sleep.
And a second later, she felt it: the brush of an arm against her leg. Not intentional. Not groping. Just… there—draped loosely across the top of her thigh, his hand slack with sleep.
Her entire body went still.
Her breath stalled. Her fingers closed around the hilt of her knife.
A reflex.
For one white-hot second, she considered it—really considered it—slicing clean across the tendon, ending the contact before it meant anything at all.
Because it didn’t.
It couldn’t.
But his hand was warm. His skin against hers buzzed like a warning. Her thigh ached from the tension of not moving.
When she looked down—really looked—his face was peaceful. Not brooding. Not vulnerable. Just… quiet. For once.
Like the ghosts had gone silent for a while.
Y/N let out a breath through her nose. Long. Tired.
She didn’t move his arm.
She didn’t relax either.
Just sat there. Awake. Blade across her lap. Heart pounding too loud in her ears.
The fire crackled once, and she whispered to the trees, more to herself than anyone:
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
—
—
Chapter 25
Hope you liked it!! Gimme all the feedback, babes. Are you excited for what’s coming? I mean, whatever happens in the jungle stays in the jungle, am I right?
Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: In a world governed by clans and blood debts, nothing ever burns by accident; fading embers are nurtured carefully, mistaken for mercy and the gentle promise of warmth through the night. But fire answers to no one, and it has never spared what—or who—was foolish enough to keep it close.
Wordcount: 1.5k
Masterlist
—
It had started with Jimin’s grin.
Which should’ve been enough of a bad sign.
“Come on,” Jimin said, “live a little.”
Jungkook didn’t look up. “No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Hoseok snorted from where he sat with the patience of a monk. “That’s the problem with sticking him in the attic for that long. All that isolation has turned our boy feral.”
Jungkook muttered something under his breath and continued cleaning his gun. The parts gleamed on the table, neatly arranged like bones. Everything in order. Just the way he liked it.
“Look,” Jimin leaned in, propped his chin on his hand, “Taehyung’s back from Daegu. He didn’t get himself stabbed. That alone calls for celebration.”
“Then go celebrate,” Jungkook said. “Without me.”
“But we want you to come,” Jimin faked a pout.
“Don’t even try,” Jungkook said. “You just need an even number to play cards.”
“That too,” Hoseok said with a laugh.
“Come on,” Jimin whined, lounging upside down on the leather couch like gravity didn’t apply to him. “One night. A few drinks, some cards, a couple of bad decisions. You deserve that much.”
Jungkook didn’t even look up from the gun he was reassembling. “Can’t.”
“You could,” Hobi said from where he was stacking chips at the far end of the table. “You just won’t.”
Jungkook exhaled through his nose. “I can’t leave. You know that.”
“She’s not gonna crawl out the window the second you stop looking, man,”
“She’s tried before.” Jungkook muttered.
“Then—bring her along, won’t you?” Jimin blurted out.
That made Jungkook pause. Just slightly. Enough for both men to notice.
He looked up now. Slowly. “You’re kidding.”
The blond boy shrugged. “Even ravens need air. Let her flap around a bit.”
Jungkook snapped the slide into place with more force than necessary. “I’m not dragging her to the Rat Hole.”
“Why not?” Hobi asked, eyes glinting.
“I don’t know, maybe because I’d like to keep my head attached to my neck.”
Hoseok shrugged. “Namjoon’s out of town.”
“Exactly.” Jimin said, “Which gives us, what—seventy-two hours before he senses the disturbance in the Force?”
Jungkook blinked at them like they’d grown two heads. “That’s your plan? Just sneak her out? Like she’s a fucking family pet who needs some exercise?”
“She could use a change of scenery,” Hoseok said mildly. “So could you. You’ve been wound tighter than a tripwire.”
“And it’s not like she can actually go anywhere.” Jimin added.
The implication hung heavy.
“I don’t like this idea,” Jungkook said.
“You don’t like any idea that wasn’t yours,” Jimin replied.
Jungkook leaned back, jaw ticking. His mind was already spiraling down the alley of risk. Namjoon’s lectures. The clan’s rules. Her loud mouth. Her temper. The chance she’d try something stupid.
“She’s unruly,” he stated.
“Then let’s hope she’s too busy sipping something pink and fruity to cause a scene.”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“But you’re thinking about it,” Hoseok said.
“You’re insane.”
“Correction,” Jimin said, “we’re strategic. You bring her, we keep her in sight, everyone wins. She gets out, you get a break, we get our full crew for poker night. No one dies.”
Jungkook muttered, “You two are gonna be the reason I get executed.”
Jimin shrugged. “Better than dying of boredom up there.”
There was a pause. A flicker of something in Jungkook’s jaw.
The seed had been planted.
“She’s won’t get recognised,” Jimin said.
“And even if she was,” Hobi added, “who’s dumb enough to pick that fight in Kang territory?”
Another pause.
“Come on now,” Jimin nudged Jungkook, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
Jungkook stood. Gun reassembled, anger still simmering in his jaw. His silence stretched a beat too long.
He didn’t say yes.
But he didn’t say no, either.
And that was enough.
Jimin smiled like a man who’d just won a bet.
—
The attic was still when Jungkook returned.
Not quiet—still.
Coiled, like a wire pulled too tight.
He didn’t expect to find her in the middle of the living room.
Barefoot on the floor. Moving like liquid steel.
Eyes closed. Arms extended, spine long, breath measured. Something between yoga and a fight stance—measured but watchful. Too slow for attack. Too precise for peace.
He said nothing.
Just watched.
It annoyed him—how calm she looked. How centered.
Like she’d made peace with her confinement in a way he hadn’t.
She didn’t look up when he stepped in.
Either she didn’t hear him, or she didn’t care.
He leaned against the wall.
Arms folded. Silent.
She turned on one foot, arms sweeping through the air. Every movement she made spiraled inward. Not performative. Not for an audience.
Which somehow made it worse that he couldn’t stop watching.
Then—
“Either join in or stop hovering. You’re throwing off my rhythm.”
He blinked. “Tai chi?”
“Stealth conditioning,” she said. Still not looking. “Though I wouldn’t expect you to know anything of the matter.”
He scoffed. “Is that a dig?”
“If the combat boot fits. I did hear you coming from three floors down.”
“That’s your idea of working out?” He mocked.
“Balance and breath,” she pivoted into a fluid pose, “pretty essential for those of us who aren’t so intent on stomping around like bulls.”
He snorted. “You’d get more out of lifting. Build some muscle. Those biceps aren’t intimidating anyone.”
Still, she didn’t flinch. “Do you suppose strength only comes in volume?”
“I think those soft noodles wouldn’t last ten seconds in a real ring.”
He stepped forward. Two fingers out—teasing. About to flick her arm.
She slapped his hand away.
Hard.
Then straightened. “Touch me again,” she said calmly, “and I’ll shatter your wrist.”
He raised a brow. “With what? That graceful little elbow?”
“Fuck you.”
He circled her like a shark. Slow, amused.
“Seriously,” he said. “That’s the Park clan way? Slow-motion pirouettes? No wonder you lot hide in the shadows. You’d get laughed out of a real fight.”
She arched a brow. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he said, tone flat. “That’s a fact.”
She stepped forward.
“Of course you’d think that,” she said. “All show. All flex. You’re a walking sledgehammer. Congratulations. No nuance. No edge. Just brute force and protein shakes.”
His jaw ticked. Just once.
“You know,” he said, “for all your elegance, I bet you’d still get winded running down a flight of stairs.”
She tilted her head. “And I’m sure you’d crash down just fine. Loud. Obvious. Useful as a wrecking ball.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t kill for a wrecking ball just about now?”
“I’m saying I preferred the quiet,” she added. “And I had it. Until your big, dumb footsteps ruined it.”
He smiled. But it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You always this cranky, or is it just your bedtime already?”
She stepped in again, toe to toe now.
“I’m cranky,” she said, sweet as cyanide, “because I’ve been locked in an attic for weeks. And because Kim Namjoon’s errand boy won’t stop breathing down my neck.”
His smile faded.
And then she did something stupid.
She lowered her voice into a mockery of his—gravelly, dramatic:
“Look at me, I’m Jungkook, I’m a proper little mobster. I eat bullets for breakfast and lift weights and fuck slutty girls. I also need my boss’s permission to take a piss.”
That did it.
His jaw locked. His eyes narrowed.
But she wasn’t done.
“Tell me,” she asked sweetly, lowering her voice into a mocking growl. “Does he pat your head when you obey? Say things like ‘good boy, Kookie, now roll over’—”
“Alright,” he snapped, taking a step until he hovered over her. He looked into her eyes but, as usual, she did not back down. Then— “get dressed.”
She blinked, as he stepped back.“…Are we—expecting compagny?”
“We’re going out.”
“Out?” She hesitated. “As in… out-out?”
He didn’t flinch. “You wanted fresh air. Now’s your chance.” She didn’t say anything. “Now just get fucking dressed, we leave in an hour.”
She crossed her arms. “Is this some elaborate plan to get me in trouble? Or get me shot? Hasten the relief of your guarding duties?”
He sighed.
She continued, “If it is, I tell you, it’s very transparent.”
“It’s not. But make no mistake—this is not a favor. You’ll be watched. No funny business.”
He turned toward his room, as though he’d explained everything she needed to know.
She called after him. “Wait—“ she paused, as though considering what she might say, then finally settled on: “what should I wear?”
He glanced over his shoulder, something sharp glittered in his eyes.
“Something short,” he said. “You’ll want to blend in.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not taking me to some strip club, are you?”
“No,” he stated, already walking into his room. “Somewhere much worse.”
—
The door clicked shut behind him.
He stood still for a moment, spine stiff, hand still on the knob. A breath dragged slow through his teeth.
Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis : In a world governed by clans and blood debts, nothing ever burns by accident; fading embers are nurtured carefully, mistaken for mercy and the gentle promise of warmth through the night. But fire answers to no one, and it has never spared what—or who—was foolish enough to keep it close.
Wordcount : 120k
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12
Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15
Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18
Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21
Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24
Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27
Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30
Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33
Chapter 34. Chapter 35 Chapter 36
Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39
Chapter 40 Chapter 41
Teaser Book 2
Book 2
(out, starting February)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18 (coming soon)
Between the Li(n)es
Genre: Idol!au, mega mega Angst, mega mega Hurt, eventual mega Smut.
Pairing: Ex!Jungkook x reader (+featuring the one and only Mr. Harry Styles in honor of 2026 marking the comeback of all our husbands)
stepdad!jk thought
cw, stepcest, infidelity, implied fingering, punishment, age gap, implied sexual intercourse
stepdad!jungkook who punishes you for not doing your homework. has you seated on his lap as he makes you go over the questions again and again. his hand is on top of yours, guiding your finger along the lines as he makes you read out loud.
free hand nestled between your thighs, all the way under your skirt where it most definitely shouldn’t be. fingers pressing against your throbbing clit in a way that makes you bite back pathetic sounds.
you know that if you ever hiccup, he’ll make you start all over again. and you don’t know how much more you can take without feeling him closer.
“read that last paragraph again, love.” he murmurs against your shoulder, lips placing soft kisses against your bare skin. — when you hesitate his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh.
the ring on his finger reminds you of a promise he made, and of the sin he was committing this very moment. so why don’t you pull away?
instead you lean back against his chest, drawing a shaky breath as you prepare to reread the paragraph once more, biting down on your lower lip when his hand finds its way inside your already damp panties.
his breath is rough against your neck, he’s not listening to the words falling from your tongue anymore — and you don’t bother keeping up with the words on the page when you hear him unzip his pants.
The director’s lips snap shut as Jungkook points at your portrait photo. Dare he say he takes several deep breaths before he speaks.
“She has little acting experience.” the direct murmurs. “She’s only ever starred in indie horror films that are complete trash-”
“I happened to enjoy “Attack of the Killer Space Beetles”.” Jungkook jokes. He couldn’t help but begin to laugh at how ridiculous the name sounded. “Besides, you said you wanted a fresh face, right?”
The director sighs, but nods his head. A new face alongside Jungkook, an academy award-winning one, was needed. He wanted the audience to come to the theatres because of Jungkook, but stay long enough for the story.
“Exactly. She auditioned. Her credentials are…” Jungkook trails off.
You did a lot of horror movies that only “horror lovers” would watch - for the sake of saying they’ve watched a lot of horror movies. They weren’t blockbuster or household names. They did, however, have a cult following. You were a newbie, but you did have a small fan base that enjoyed you being dragged across the ground covered in fake blood.
“This is a horror movie, as well.” Jungkook shrugs. He leans back into the leather seat and stretches his arms out. “Right in her element.”
“Yes but…there’s sex scenes.” the director shakes his head. “She’s never done that. She hasn’t even been nude before. I don’t have time to coach a new girl-”
“You don’t. That’s what the intimacy coach is for.”
The director ponders why Jungkook was fighting so hard for you specifically. Being a big name in the industry, Jungkook cost millions and was the highest paid in any movie franchise or television series he starred in. He directed a few movies himself, and even assisted in producing them. He was the reason as to why a few celebrities had careers today - he had an eye for talent.
Jungkook’s current eye was now on you - a fresh face. Your acting was good and you had the potential. You went to college for acting and all; a degree not everyone had. Your heart was in it, you just needed the opportunity.
Jungkook was going to be that opportunity for you. He watched the way your eyes widen as you walked into the audition room, script in hand. You were immediately nervous when your eyes locked with his that it caused Jungkook to smile with how innocent you were.
So new and naive to the world of cinema - anyone would take advantage of such naivety.
“Fine. If you think she’s good, then I’ll give her a call.” the director throws his hands up. Jungkook wasn’t a fool. He put on many celebrities - Kim Taehyung was one of the highest paid actors a part of a soap opera right now. The man hadn’t even come to the audition for himself, but instead as support for his friend. It was Jungkook who spotted the deep voiced man and asked him to audition for a role and said “Jungkook sent me”.
When your phone rings with an unknown number you hadn’t recognized, you assume it was either a spam call or a call from your agent telling you that you didn’t get the role but “there will be other roles available”.
You weren’t expecting to get a call from the same director as a week prior telling you that you got the role. You had forgotten how to breathe when the news was given to you that when the director asked if you were still there, you almost fainted.
“I’ll get in contact with your agent and pass her the details. In the meantime, Jeon Jungkook-” Your heart instantly pounds at the name. “-will be speaking with you soon. I hope it wasn’t bad that I’ve given him your contact information.”
“No!” you nearly scream, and you want to slap yourself. “I mean no, it’s not an issue.”
“Good.” the direct chuckles. “Jungkook has a good eye for talent, Ms. Y/L. He chose you himself.”
Your heart jolts and your eyes widen.
“If things go as planned, you could be just as big as him one day.”
Just as big as Jeon Jungkook one day.
Jeon Jungkook - thee Jeon Jungkook - had picked you. The award winning actor who’s graced your screen since you were a teenager had chosen you. You out of hundreds of female leads.
Upon your arrival at the audience, you were already nervous. You were in a room full of beautiful women, some you recognized. You contemplated turning around and going back home to this very apartment you rent for far too much than you can truly afford.
But you hadn’t. You stayed for hours and once your name was called, you entered. You audience and you got the role.
All because of Jeon Jungkook.
You could faint right now, your eyes swelling with tears. This could be the moment you studied so hard for. The acting classes you took daily cost you to work night shift, along with you studying in college for acting. You took your dream seriously and now…
“It’s paying off.” you say to yourself. You’re in complete silence now, head against your satin pillowcase. You’re staring up at the ceiling.
Your phone begins to buzz against your chest. You’re alarmed by the amount of notifications that are coming all at once.
Instagram notifications were coming through rapidly, all too quickly for you to grasp as to why. You open the app and find out for yourself.
You were an actress, yes, and you did have a bit of a following. You posted behind the scene pictures to your instagram sometimes and it garnered you over 10,000 followers.
You were shocked to see the following count rise from over 10,000, to nearly 100,000.
“W-What…?”
You understood why. The post shows up right as you click “home”.
Jeon Jungkook has followed you. He had uploaded a picture of him with a script in his hands, smiling. His lips are a rosy pink and the lip-piercing adds a touch of attractiveness - how was that even possible?
jeon.jk can’t wait to start filming our new horror movie “one way or another” with @yn. we’re both going to look good covered in blood 😭
Your breathing quickens.
Breathe.
Breathe.
“Oh fuck.” you gasp out, palms sweaty. This was an exact reminder that this was all real. Jeon Jungkook acknowledging you publicly. He appeared excited to work with you - fuck, he was the one that chose you.
Not to forget that Jungkook also said you were going to look good covered in blood.
“Oh fuck.” you repeat.
You’re running, your feet nearly getting caught on the pavement. The sky is dark and cloudless, and the street lights don’t do enough to shine your path.
Your heart is racing outside your chest and you feel as though your body is going to give out any moment now. You want nothing more than to stop and catch your breath, but you don’t. You don’t dare to.
Your footsteps are not the only ones you hear. The ones behind you are catching up - growing closer and closer. You don’t look back - that would only distract you. You could only wish that they are further than what they sound.
A loud screech releases from your throat when your hair is being pulled and you’re set backwards and right onto your back. Your manage to not hit your head on the way down, but your body is soaked in mud.
“Why are you running?”
That voice.
Your ankle is grabbed tightly and you’re being dragged. You continue to scream and cry as the man drags you closer to him. You attempt to kick your feet and to free yourself from this crazed man, but you’re unable to.
“Stop fucking screaming.” the man roars suddenly, his yells echoing off of the trees. “You,” a hand is slammed against your lips. “are only alive because I want you to be.”
Your heart pounds with how close the man was.
With how handsome, too. A handsome man like him didn’t do things like this. Handsome men with good jobs and money didn’t stalk you. They didn’t threaten your livelihood.
They didn’t chase you in the middle of the night, either - yet here he stood.
“Please.” you shake your head, crying. The tears finally spilled down your cheeks and your vision of the handsome man was blurring. “Please…”
“You’re so pretty when you cry.” the man laughs. His thumb rubs away a stray tear. “You’re pleading now because you’re scared. Where’s the woman that fought me earlier?”
You cry harder when the man shakes you roughly, now screaming in your face.
“Where is she? Where is she?!”
Your eyes grow wide when the man clenches your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His dark eyes stare a hole through you. Almost if he was looking right through you - inside of you.
“Open your mouth.” the man commands.
You stiffen. Slowly, your eyes drifted to the side.
The director is seated in a chair. He’s watching the scene unfold, intrigued with how well you are acting. He doesn’t seem fazed that Jungkook had deviated from the script.
“I said,” Jungkook, in character, hissed. Without much thought, he squeezes your cheek until your mouth opens. He forces two of his fingers inside of your mouth and you’re entirely distraught to do anything. “open your mouth.” he repeats.
DId you somehow forget this scene? You’ve read the script countless times - there was no way this was in it. You’re far too shocked to do anything and neither Jungkook nor the direct stop.
“Let me see what that mouth of yours can do while you’re afraid.”
Your chest rises and falls, eyes widening. Jungkook’s fingers force themselves deeper inside of you, holding onto your limp form.
“Cut!”
You gasp when Jungkook’s fingers remove themself from your mouth. He wipes them onto his pants without a care and smiles at you. “You okay?”
The demeanor changes instantly. Jungkook’s eyes soften and the hardened expression you witnessed before is gone entirely.
This was all an act, of course. Jungkook was an actor. Of course he wasn’t some psychotic psycho chasing you through the woods.
“Y/N, you’re a natural.” the director calls from his chair. “I’m actually shocked by how well you’re doing. We’ve filmed all day now so we should have enough.” he says, clapping his hand. “Need everyone back here first thing tomorrow morning. Jungkook, Y/N,”
Your eyes turn back to Jungkook who is now standing. He offers you his hand - it’s covered in makeup to hide the tattoos - and you hesitantly take it.
“I’m sorry about the sudden change in script.” Jungkook murmurs to you. “I was told to improvise. He likes raw reactions.”
Raw reactions.
You nod your head, cheeks warming. “No problem, really.” you assure, yet you’d be lying if you say the change in script didn’t terrify you. It all seemed too real, even with countless people around you watching. Jungkook had a way that made you feel like it was only you and him around - and that’s just with the little scenes you and he acted in already.
“Intimacy coordinator wants to meet with the two of you.”
You bite your lip.
You knew that this was a horror film and there were scenes you’ve never done before. Sex scenes to be precise. You’ve read the script and you were left an embarrassed mess when you had to read the lines over with Jungkook, but he was professional. He made it easier for you with how polite and reassuring he was.
“You’re doing great.” Jungkook says as you and he walk down the grassy hill towards the trailers.
Jungkook had his own trailer and much to your surprise, he had even rented you one. Typically, there was a trailer for people to share, but you’ve never had your own. It was never in the budget for the films you’ve done.
“Thanks.” you smile at him. “I was hoping I wouldn’t fall on my ass before you got to me.”
Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a natural on camera.” he says, and the compliment causes your body to warm up. “You can tell that you’re accustomed to the horror vibe.”
You nod your head a bit. “I try to be. I’ve been in corny horror movies though.” you joke.
You recall when you and Jungkook had officially met to go over the script and he mentioned he enjoyed ‘Attack of the Killer Space Beetles’. You were immediately embarrassed, but Jungkook had actually watched and enjoyed it. He recounted scenes from the movie that even you forgot about.
“Corny movies are only a stepping stone to your big break.” Jungkook says. He places a hand onto your shoulder and squeezes it gently before bringing you closer to his side in a sideways hug.
Meeting with the intimacy coordinator had only reminded you that you’ve indeed never experienced anything like this. She was sweet in asking for your opinions - if you felt comfortable in the amount of sexual activity that would be happening behind the camera.
A sex scene was new to you, but not to Jungkook. That also caused more nerves to be added onto your shoulders. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself too much in front of him and the rest of the crew.
Jungkook, however, was more supportive. He insisted that things weren’t as they seemed and most outcomes were just illusions.
“So since you’re new,” the intimacy coordinator states. “you’re possibly wondering how scenes are executed on set. These are modest garments.”
The coordinator shows you different skin-color shades of garments. “They’re strapless things with a barrier inside of them. Do you want to feel?”
Though you’re humiliated, you are also intrigued. You touch the garment and hum as you nod your head. You suppose this is how things are done - so you wouldn’t actually be feeling Jungkook.
“For men, we have them wear something called a modesty pouch.”
Jungkook leans back into his chair. He watches the way your eyes examine all of the garments, genuinely intrigued by it all as the intimacy coordinator explains to you how everything is done. Your naivety with how everything works is what causes Jungkook’s lips to form a small smile - you were cute, he thinks. This was like a whole new world to you that you’ve never been a part of; one that he was showing you.
“We have different types of garments you could wear and try on. Since you are new, we’ll have to find your size.” you nod along to her speech. “And we’ll also have to work on what we call “faking it”.”
“Fake moaning.” Jungkook nods his head at your confused look.
“We have to make it look real while we’re filming so the final product appears as such. But as you can see, it’s all fake at the end of the day.”
For the next hour, you were explained step-by-step of how intimacy works, camera angles, faking sounds and all. Once the meeting was over, you felt that this was something you could actually do without feeling like such a newbie.
“Feel better?” Jungkook asks.
You and Jungkook are side by side now as you make your way out of your own trailer. You changed back into your clothes and decided that it was best for you to head back home. The evening sun casted a burnt orange type of hue over the set entirely.
“Yes.” you nod your head with a soft grin. “I can’t wait to watch the movie when it’s all done. I want to redeem myself from my past work.”
Jungkook snickers. “You’ll be amazing. Trust me.” he assures. “I waited to ask if you wanted to grab dinner and go over the script.”
You blink a few times, uncertain. Your stomach was rumbling and you could go for food right now - but did you truly want to go over the script? “What scenes did you want to go through?”
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “A few. Especially if we’re going to get told to keep improvising.”
Improvising. Your mind flashes with the way Jungkook looked and sounded earlier, followed by the way he forced his fingers into your mouth. It was eerie, especially when you didn’t know it was happening. You’re positive, however, that the raw reaction the director was looking for was highly evident.
“It shouldn’t be an issue, I guess.” you shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want Jungkook to think you weren’t passionate about the project - you were!
This is how you and Jungkook found yourselves, eating takeout while attempting to go over the script. You willingly drink the wine Jungkook gives you, admitting to yourself that it actually was an amazing taste - he told you it was thousands of dollars and you cannot comprehend just how someone could spend that much on it.
“Okay, let’s get back to the script.” you say after another sip of wine. “Where did we leave off?”
Jungkook turns a few pages before looking up at you. “We should try an intimate one. Get it out of the way so tomorrow it’ll be easier to perform.”
Nodding your head, you take a deep breath. You had read this scene countless times to memorize your lines. Watching Jungkook get into character was amazing. Even while practicing, he still gives a stellar performance.
“I missed you.” He says, taking a few steps towards you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I-I haven’t.” you say. This scene involves you being in bed, but you and Jungkook are in his living room, so the couch would have to do.
“Yes you have. Are you afraid of me?” Jungkook comes closer until he’s hovering above you, dark eyes tracing over your body. “You know I’ll never hurt you.”
You flinch when a hand comes near you. “I-I…you told me you’d kill anyone who touched me. That’s not normal.” you quip.
“I can’t help how I feel!” Jungkook hisses. He plops down besides you, his eyes softening. “Please, baby…I’m sorry. Just give me another chance. You know I’ll never hurt you. Sometimes I get angry and…”
This was where the intimacy got started. Jungkook’s lips are on your neck immediately, kissing at the nape of it. His hand places itself onto your inner thigh and he squeezes.
“You drive me crazy.”
Your eyes close for a moment, swallowing. Jungkook kisses up your neck, hand growing closer and closer to you.
“We shouldn’t be doing this…” you murmur. “...you-”
You stop immediately when Jungkook’s hands touch your clothed heat. He cups it in his palm, your cheeks warming.
“Sssh…” Jungkook hums, continuing to rub. You weren’t wearing any safety garments - Jungkook knows this. You’re unable to move as he continues to rub. “...just let me.”
Jungkook squeezes your cupped heat, eyes flickering to see your reaction. Your shy face appears bewildered and you’re unable to move.
“You okay?” Jungkook asks. That wasn’t part of the script, and neither was him touching you. “Does it feel good?”
“Jung…kook?”
You say his name so sweetly that it causes him to moan.
“I like the way you say my name.” Jungkook admits. He’s so close to your face. It’s warm with embarrassment and nerves. This wasn’t part of the script - was he improvising again? Even this is too much.
“W-What are you doing?” you ask. He’s close like he was before, his eyes dark with someone else that you couldn’t put your finger on. Your heart is pumping so loudly, your thighs quivering.
“We’re going to be around one another for months. You and I have to look like we’re intimate on camera.” Jungkook’s tongue swipes along your neck. The hair on your skin rises. “We mind as well get comfortable.”
Comfortable…
The way Jungkook’s hands forces it’s way into your pants, you’re entirely stiff. You’re afraid to move, especially when his fingers rub along your clothed heat through your panties. A soft gasp comes from your lips.
“It feels good, right?” Jungkook hums against your neck. His tongue slides up towards your ear, his teeth nibbling slightly on it just to tease you further. “Talk.”
“Is this…okay?” you ask him, as if you aren’t the one that should be assured. Jungkook looks into your eyes and it drives him crazy. Those sweet, innocent eyes. Such naivety behind them.
“Of course this is okay. You feel good, don’t you?” Jungkook asks.
You nod your head a bit. It felt good - but you and Jungkook were co-workers. You didn’t want to go too far with him and have things be awkward on set later on. Nor did you want him to think you were a groupie who is willing to jump his bones at any given moment.
“We’re going to have to act in front of the camera, Y/N. You’re going to have to moan…” Jungkook murmurs. “I want you to be completely comfortable for me. It’s just us.”
You don’t move when Jungkook tugs your pants down and discards them on the floor. His eyes are intense, watching you the entire time. He places his hands back between your legs, continuing to rub your wet core through your panties.
“You’re new to this.” Jungkook chuckles. “But it’s just you and me. I want you to be comfortable enough for me, okay? Tell me how you feel.”
You aren’t new to sex, but those hookups weren’t Jeon Jungkook. You were self-conscious already. You’re positive he’s done this with countless women - all beautiful models and actresses. You were just you; a newbie in the world and you’re positive you look it.
“It feels nice.” you mumble.
“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckles again, just because you were so cute. “And now?”
Pushing your panties aside, Jungkook slides his fingers across your wet clit. He rubs a bit more profusely, hissing as just how good he knows your pussy feels. He knows it's tight and would milk him for everything he has.
“In order to look convincing on camera, we’re going to have to experience it behind the scenes.” Jungkook explains. “Don’t you want this? This movie is going to be big.”
Jungkook wouldn't say he was manipulating you. You could push him away and say no - he just knows you won’t. You did want this. He was going to open doors for you that would’ve remained closed if it wasn’t for him.
"The scene we’re acting out is a bit aggressive, but not all of them are.” Jungkook assures. His cock tightens at just the thought of handling you the same way his movie character handles yours. “You trust me right?”
Slowly, and slightly unsure, you nod your head.
“Good.” Jungkook removes his hand from your clit. “Get up. And strip.”
Jungkook was blurring the lines between reality and the script. But you wanted to be good - good enough for him to realize that he didn’t make a mistake in choosing you.
“Yes, sir.” you nod your head, following along with the script.
Jungkook watches you peel off the remaining clothing. Your bra falls right besides your panties, erect nipples staring back at him.
“Go up the stairs and to the right. That’s my bedroom.” Jungkook instructs. “We can’t act this scene out on the couch.”
You can feel Jungkook watching you as you do as he says. Being fully nude before him is nerve wrecking and you just hope you can appear sexy as you’re supposed to. You and him were actually going to do this - there’s no garments to hide either of your parts from one another.
“You think I’d allow anyone else to have what’s mine?” Jungkook hisses. He removes his belt as you sit on his bed, innocent eyes looking up at him.
“N-No, sir.” you murmur back.
“Exactly. I’d kill anyone who thinks they’ll take you away from me.” Jungkook pushes his pants off. You don’t want to stare at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but it’s hard not to. “How should I punish you then? You tried to run away from me.”
You swallow. “Sir-”
“How about you get on your knees?”
You lick your lips. Your character is supposed to be frightened, doing whatever it takes to survive Jungkook’s character - the obvious bubbling psychopath.
Witnessing you on your knees, naked with those eyes causes something in Jungkook’s chest to rumble. His cock throbs, wishing you’d touch him already.
“I’d do anything, sir.” you say. Your soft hands lift up to touch him, sliding up his bare legs until they are on either side of his thighs.
“Open your mouth.” Jungkook demands. His free hand is placed on your chin. “Wider.” he instructs over and over until your tongue is out.
You’re trembling when Jungkook pushes his underwear out. This is something you’ve never done. Oral sex wasn’t something you were interested in with simple hookups. His cock is big, veiny with a wet tip. Without warning - though you should’ve expected, he rubs his tip against your tongue. It’s salty and at the first sign of your hesitance, Jungkook tightens his fingers on your chin.
“You’re doing good.” Jungkook instructs. “You’ve sucked on a lollipop before, right? Treat it like that.”
This was Jungkook talking to you, not his character. His breathing increases when you listen. You were such a good girl - and your compliance would be rewarded. He could make you into the perfect actress - highly awarded just like he was. In due time, of course.
You do as Jungkook says, licking his tip just as you would a lollipop. It’s new to you and you aren’t sure if you’re doing it correctly, but Jungkook’s gasping lowly so you assume you are. Your eyes flicker up to look at him for reassurance.
“You’re doing good.” Jungkook says as if he knows. “Just…take more of me, yeah?”
Jungkook thrusts himself deeper into your wet mouth, groaning when you allow him to with little resistance. His hand holds onto your cheek. “Stay like this, okay. Let me…”
Jungkook begins to pump his cock in and out of you slowly. His moaning increases, his dark eyes fluttering every so often. You’re shocked with how wet you were, your thighs clenching together. Doing this for Jungkook and witnessing how good it makes him feel makes you feel good.
“You’re so beautiful taking my cock.” Jungkook speaks, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “You’re so good.”
Jungkook picks up the pace, as does his moans. Watching the way your wet mouth takes his cock deeper and deeper with little resistance, even if he can see the whelming tears forming to your eyes with how overwhelming it was. Fuck, you were such temptress.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. I promise you’d have it all. Just be good to me, okay?” Jungkook’s cock is so deep in your mouth that you cannot physically respond, but a hum vibrates from your throat and sends Jungkook into a frenzy.
You’re unsure how you haven’t gagged more than a couple times with how deep Jungkook was, growing more aggressive by the second. You’re breathing through your nose heavily for air, your eyes glossy.
Jungkook spills entirely into your throat, the salty, warm substance causing you to actually gag. You swallow it, unsure what else to do after he removes his cock from your mouth. You finally breathe from your lips, blinking away the tears from your eyes.
“Look at you,” Jungkook hisses. “turn around.”
You were going by the script again. Once you can see again, you do as you’re told. You already know what’s next - the belt still in his right hand. You had to prepare for when you and him do this scene you suppose.
Jungkook wraps the leather belt around your neck, tightening just enough that it isn’t choking you. He forces you onto your feet.
“This is what I do to whore’s who don’t listen.”
You’re forced onto the bed. You immediately know what position to get into, having read the script. And Jungkook thinks you’re such an obedient person that it drives him crazy.
You aren’t sure how this scene was going to play out in front of the camera, but Jungkook isn’t hesitant to slam a hand directly on your bare ass. You yelp at the sudden action - and the sensation of it.
“Count.” Jungkook demands.
“One.”
SLAP!
“Two.”
SLAP!
“T-Three…”
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
Your thighs are quivering, forced apart so Jungkook could watch the way arousal trickles down your thighs helplessly. Your ass is stinging, a pleasurable feeling you’ve never experienced until now.
Jungkook yanks at the belt and you’re forced upward and against his chest. You struggle a moment, eyes widening.
“You’re wet.” Jungkook says against your ear. “You like this, don’t you?”
You nod slightly, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“That’s okay.” Jungkook assures. “I want you to feel good, too.”
Jungkook’s free hand slides between your legs. He doesn’t allow you to move and his grip onto the belt is firm. He likes the way you helplessly lean against his chest while his hand rubs along your wet clit.
“Let’s see how well you take my fingers.”
Jungkook’s fingers are intruding, but he doesn’t care. He slides them between your folds and right in you. You’re tighter than he thought, fully taking him entirely.
You gasp at the feeling, your pussy clenching instantly. Jungkook doesn’t intend on being soft with you - no. It’s what you were going to have to get used to. This wasn’t a soft movie - it was hard. It was intruding and invasive - showcasing just how obsessed Jungkook’s character was with yours.
Your pussy is squelching so loudly that Jungkook adds another finger. You’re moaning helplessly, your thighs aching too close to stop the overstimulation but Jungkook isn’t going to allow it. He forces his knee between your legs to assure you stay exactly like this.
“Jungkook,” you gasp, a hand on his wrist. “s-slow down, please. I-i can’t-”
“Shut up.” Jungkook hisses. He was enjoying fucking his fingers into your pussy. He can feel it - the throbbing and clenching and unclenching.
“I have to…” you’re breathing heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands, to no avail, are attempting to pry Jungkook off of you. His hand only tugs on the belt.
There’s pressure building up in you. You felt as though you had to pee and you weren’t going to humiliate yourself and do that now. “P-please…!”
“Let go, Y/N. I know you feel it.” Jungkook’s voice is so deep that it tickles something in you. He wasn’t going to release you - not until you did what he said.
You have no control over the pressure that builds and builds until your body forces it out. It sprays entirely onto your thighs and onto the silk bed sheets.
“Such a good girl you are, Y/N.” Jungkook shakes his head, his wet fingers removed from your hole.
Jungkook isn’t going to let you regain any peace - not when you and he had to perfect your roles. When you feel something else at your entrance, you’re too overstimulated to say anything.
Jungkook enters you. You’re so wet that he slides past your walls effortlessly. He groans, feeling your wet pussy around his cock is mind blowing. You were amazing, he thinks, so wet and willing. He finds pleasure in knowing that it was him that is going to discover you and all your talents.
Jungkook begins to pump, forcing you onto his bed so he can get a better grip on you. Your legs are forced apart and your head is shoved into the wet sheets. You’re unable to form words and your eyes are still shut. He’s so deep, pounding into you with every ounce of aggression the script calls for.
“You’re going to be a star, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.” Jungkook hisses. He’s positive that you’re only half listening, the other half of you babbling and moaning to yourself. But he’ll make sure to tell you once more in the morning.
Your hands grip the sheet, unsure if you were going to be able to handle another orgasm, but Jungkook wasn’t going to stop until you both were there.
Your ass bounces against his abdomen, your wet pussy gushing with more and more juices that he’s unsure just how this was possible. You’re creaming around his cock, so good that he’s positive you’re cumming over and over again.
“You love this, don’t you? You get to get fucked by me and have the world at your hands. You and I…” Jungkook speaks, now more to himself. To think about it, he could be your guide. Someone to protect you from harm in this industry - you were new and naive. Anyone could take advantage of you. “...I’ll protect you, Y/N. Make sure no one has their way with you.”
You whimper once more when you feel another sensation flowing though you and Jungkook are chuckling with delight. You’re limp, forced to allow Jungkook to have his way with you.
“Maybe we should become the next power couple, huh? Dominate the industry…the perfect actress I can have you be…”
Jungkook’s thrusts become sloppy, satisfied with the possibility of making you the star he knows you can be. The one you and he could be together - fuck, he was going to cum. His eyes squeeze shut, a few more thrusts and-
You feel warmth pool through you and Jungkook falls right on top of you. Your thighs are trembling and your eyes are heavy. You’ve cum more than you ever had before and you had no energy in you to move.
Jungkook is panting, his mouth right against your shoulder. He’s still pumping cum into you, sweat forming on his forehead. One thing for sure, Jungkook couldn’t wait to make you a star.
-`♡´- summary: you wanted jeon jungkook the moment you laid eyes on him. the fact that he had a girlfriend wasn't going to stop you though.
-`♡´- genre: strangers/lowkey one sided enemies to lovers?? idk bec you irk him. angst, smut, fluff. infidelity au (jungkook has a girlfriend so yk you can fill in the blank :p)
summary: desperate to pay off your student debts in order to graduate, you took up on the offer of your friend to become her aunt’s personal assistant over summer break but you gained more than what you bargained for when the past that you had thought you escaped from suddenly showed up and haunted you in ways worse than he ever did before.
pairings: yandere!idol!jungkook x fem!reader
disclaimer: this story is dark. it will contain yandere themes such as possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, noncon, assault, violence, blood. if you are not comfortable with this, please skip this at once. i do not condone this type of behavior and this does not reflect the members of bts.
Your skin felt sticky, the pungent smell of petrichor filled your nostrils as your head hung low, right hand clutching the statement of account that contained the astounding amount of balance you had left to pay in your student debt. The savings you had in your account from your part time jobs was not nearly enough to pay it off and it stressed you out because your university had a policy that you cannot graduate if you had not been able to pay at least eighty percent of your student loan. It was a rather medieval policy, borderline inhumane but the university’s stand was screwed deeply in the ground and no matter how many times you tried to protest, they would not budge.
the world of flashing lights, screaming people and new projects and jobs are all new to you - luckily jungkook is right by your side for every step of it.
“What do you think the blogs would say about us?” Jungkook jokes, a soft smile on his thin lips. He glances away from the obvious pap with a camera and eyes you.
“Nothing too bad I hope.” you laugh.
You don’t want to follow Jungkook’s eyes and catch the cameraman - or several - all pointing and snapping pictures at the two of you. They were mainly here for Jungkook, of course, as you were still a fresh face.
Jungkook had asked you to go to lunch today. Shooting didn’t start until later on so it was easier to agree. Months of shooting the movie, it was easier to say that Jungkook and you were growing closer as co-workers.
Friends?
Could you say Jungkook and you were friends? Everytime you think about how you and he slept together - for the sake of the movie, of course - it makes your body hot. But damn did it also make the scenes easier when you had to pretend to moan a certain way. Jungkook had told you to just remember how good you felt for him that night and to pretend that it was all real now.
“What could they say?”
Jungkook smiles at the server as she drops two plates on either side of you. You only got a salad while Jungkook opted for a steak.
“They’ll probably be dating rumors.” Jungkook speaks again. He’s cutting into his steak, his eyes watching it intently.
“Really?” you murmur. Your eyes glances out the window to see if there’s anyone you notice snapping pictures, your nerves flowing.
“Don’t look so scared.” Jungkook laughs, sinking his teeth into the steak. His eyes are now watching you closely, taking in your soft features. “Besides, it’ll be good press.”
You knit your brows. “Good press?”
Jungkook nods. You aren’t accustomed to this lifestyle and still - months in - he finds it cute. “We’re going to have to promote the movie before and during its release.” he explains just as you begin to pour the cup of dressing onto your salad.
“You’re right.” you snort at yourself. This was a big movie and that meant promotion. The movies you’ve acted in before didn’t require that in the slightest. “I’ve never had to do that before. Do we just…talk about the movie?”
Jungkook nods his head. “Yes. We say enough without disclosing too much until after it’s released. But…” he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows. It causes you to giggle a bit, lifting the salad to your mouth and munching. “....it’d be a better promotion if people assume we’re a couple.”
You hum, tilting your head. You suppose he was correct. If people thought Jungkook and you were a couple, it would get even more eyes on the movie. It would get people pondering about you and him - especially you as the upcoming actress alongside such a powerful face.
“Until they see the movie and witness just how toxic everything is.” you joke a bit.
Jungkook takes another bite of his steak. “People love toxic.” he shrugs one shoulder. “Some people are going to find it hot. Find us hot.”
Your body warms once more with how Jungkook says it. The way his eyes are staring right through you is an added bonus, reminding you of just how well he’s gotten to know you in such a short amount of time.
“We have to give the people what they want, right?” Jungkook raises one brow, awaiting your response.
You’re silent at first, unsure of what to do or say. Then, you nod your head. It was obvious that Jungkook wanted you to - and wanted for the two of you to go through with what he suggested. He was the one with the experience, after all.
As for Jungkook, he offers a warm smile. His eyes sparkle a bit as he watches you, knowing full and well that the camera outside the restaurant was going to capture this genuine moment between the two of you. He holds out his right hand for you to take and slowly, you do, a bit uncertain.
“You,” Jungkook begins, his thumb rubbing along the top of your hand. “are going to be a star, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.”
Your cheeks are warm and you nod your head. It was as if you were in a trance, fully captivated by the performance that Jungkook was putting on - if this was even a performance in his eyes or not.
“So tell us, how do the two of your characters meet in the movie?” the interviewer asks, dancing her eyes between you and Jungkook. “I’ve seen the trailer of it and it’s…” she shakes her head, a smile forming on her lips that shows a tint of mischief. “...hot to say the least.”
“And toxic.” Jungkook chuckles, turning his head to the left to glance your way.
Your eyes catch his and you return his smile. “Sooo toxic.” you agree, a short laugh passing your lips immediately after. “When the trailer released, I wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback on a horror-like movie. But this is also my first big movie I did, so it’s all surreal.”
The camera man is sure to capture the looks between you and Jungkook, the way his smile would brighten when you’d look his way.
“But, our characters meet in a club in which I’m a bartender.” you explain. You’re seated so close to Jungkook that your shoulder brushes his.
“Strip club.” the interview nods, raising her brows.
“Yes,” you chuckle, nodding your head. “a strip club. We filmed in an actual club downtown where I was shown how to serve the drinks and all.”
Jungkook watches the way you explain, moving your hands to explain further. His mind wanders to the club scene, recalling the way you were dressed for said scene. He licks his lips, his mind flashing to the leather you wore. Backless halter top with matching tight leather pants that looked entirely too appealing on you.
“And my character pays for a lapdance from her. In the movie, it’s a big deal since she’s not a dancer, but a bartender.” Jungkook explains, glancing at the interviewer. “It’s, of course, supposed to show that my character was someone with power and money. Especially if he paid for her the entire night.”
There was another look shared between you and Jungkook. Once more, you both laugh sheepishly, recalling the many times you had to give him a lap dance simply because you or him were messing up.
“In the movie, he came with his friends but he was the birthday boy.” you say, knocking your shoulder into Jungkook’s playfully. “When you watch the movie, it really shows how complex his character is.”
The interviewer raises her eyebrows. “How so?”
“At first, he’s…shy. Nervous even.” Jungkook answers. “And each time he comes back to the bar, he’s more confident. He doesn’t show who he really is until later on into the movie.”
“I guess that’s what makes it a thriller.” the interviewer wiggles her eyebrows. “What were your favorite scenes you did together?”
The camera captures you and Jungkook glance at one another again, both of you putting on an amazing show of chemistry. Ever since shooting wrapped up and now, the trailer dropping, you and Jungkook were all anyone could talk about. You had people who shipped you two together, coming up with couple names already while others made up their own synopsis of what the movie would be about with what little they were given.
With Jungkook, it was never truly a dull moment. Even during photoshoots, he and you had fun. Witnessing him become the Jungkook you know - funny, sweet and caring, to the character was amazing. He knew how to turn it on and off and even during photoshoots, he showed it. The movie poster behind you and him now captures the possessiveness his character has over yours. His arms wrapped around you, eyes staring right at you while yours were instructed to look towards the camera. The movie title is displayed right about you, yet seems to fade off a bit to solely focus on you and him.
“Mine would have to be…” you trail off, thinking for a moment. “...when he finally shows his true colors, I suppose. He becomes possessive entirely until it’s too unbearable for her to handle.”
You turn to face Jungkook, cheeks warming when he’s already looking your way.
“My favorite would have to be a much more…intimate scene.” Jungkook states. “It comes right after we had an argument and my character charms her a bit. He’s been acting crazy and obsessive but he has a way with words.”
Your smile falls a bit as you recall the exact scene Jungkook’s referencing. Your whole body feels warm now and you shift in your seat at being reminded of it.
The intimate scene itself wasn’t what caused you to shift. You and he had done much more uncomfortable scenes for a movie such as this. No, it was how ashamed you felt at doing something like that with Jungkook.
Jungkook didn’t see a problem with it. The scene caused for you and hilton beneath the covers anyways. The director, a few crew and an intimacy coach were there and you’ve done exactly what you were supposed to do. Like the intimacy coach said, intimate moments were usually acts of camera play anyways.
Yet Jungkook fingering you in front of the unknowing crew wasn’t a part of the schedule. His lips on yours to silent your protest as his fingers forced their way through your shorts and into your panties. It’s what the script called for, right? Why pretend to do it if he could do it for real and capture your actual moans and groans - all without anyone knowing what’s going on.
The adrenaline going through Jungkook as he pumps his invasive fingers in and out of you is insane to him. His lips kiss down your neck, soft voice telling you that “everything is okay” and to just “go along with it”.
Your mind had gone blank and you didn’t know what to do yourself. You didn’t want to ruin the scene or make Jungkook out to be a creep. So you helplessly laid there, widening your thighs as Jungkook’s fingers pound in you, his palm rubbing against your wet clit. He leans away a bit to look in your fluttering eyes, a smug look on his face at the genuine pleasure on your face. Even if it wasn’t in the script, he places his lips against yours possessively. He moans during the kiss, your lips one of his favorite tastes.
And even as it was over by you, embarrassingly, cumming all over Jungkook’s hands, the director yells cut and even compliments the both of you. “It felt so raw and real.” he stated - how right he was.
You blink a few times when you feel Jungkook’s hand on your knee, squeezing it a bit.
“Yeah.” you smile a bit, awkwardly. “I remember that scene, too.”
“Y/N, tell me,” the interview leans forward a bit. “you’re the new star. You’re the talk of the internet now.” she starts. “How was it working side by side with the infamous Jeon Jungkook?”
You lick your lips. “It was hard at first. I was new to this.” you explain. “But…Jungkook made it easier for me. We got to know one another and it made things more relaxed on set. I would say he’s become a very close friend to me.”
Jungkook simpers your way, his eyes twinkling a bit at your words. His heart does a small jolt at your praises, finding that he enjoys your praises and compliments - even if he hears them from everyone constantly.
Almost overnight, you are a star. Your name is everywhere - news articles, social media posts. Your name is screamed alongside Jungkook’s during red carpet events - events you and he both attend. While Jungkook admired how beautiful you looked while alone during your pictures, he adored holding the small of your back as it was time for you and him to take pictures together. He went as far as stating that for all events and press tours, you and he should coordinate outfits - for the movie, of course.
The movie was a success, skyrocketing your career alongside Jungkook’s. Witnessing billboards advertising your movie - a movie that actually made theaters and wasn’t a cheap made-for-tv movie - left you in awe.
And it didn’t stop there.
People actually liked you and Jungkook together. You were told to ignore hate tweets, but those were minimal compared to the ones you’ve received that enjoyed watching the movie - even if it was a disturbing one.
The people loving you and Jungkook together meant that you were supposed to give them what they wanted - what Jungkook wanted. “Stand a little closer to me.” he’d murmur to you, flashing lights nearly blinding you. Jungkook told you to try to not look directly into them, but past them - you didn’t get the hang of it just yet. “We should be seen more often in public.” Jungkook suggested, going as far as holding your hand and oftentimes, pressing his lips to the back of it.
You were far too shy to ask Jungkook why you and he continued going on like this. You danced around the question whenever asked about your relationship with the established man, you’d laugh nervously and just say you and he were just friends.
Even with the amount of pictures and videos of you and Jungkook at red carpet events, his hands on your waist and you so close to his side. But you had to! The crowded spaces of red carpets and microphones being shoved in your face was overwhelming - and Jungkook knew just how to react each and every time.
Jungkook enjoyed your perfume, especially when it was left on his suit at the end of the night. What he enjoyed more than your perfume on his suit, was having you in his bed at night.
Jungkook, however, wasn’t shy to speak about you. Whenever asked, his smile would brighten, as would his eyes. He could steer his interview away from him and talk about you for as long as they’d let him - “Y/N’s such a natural behind the camera,” he’d say. “It’s because of her performance that the director is thinking of a sequel,”
“I actually love Y/N very much,” your eyes widen as you listen to the interview, headphones over your ears. Your heart pumps loudly in your chest, your hands growing sweaty. “we’ve been dating for quite some time now…” he trails off with a laugh, a pink tint to his cheeks.
You tear the headphones from your ears and throw them aside. Your body is warm by his words, having been sent the interview countless times. Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing the entire time that you’ve silenced your phone.
“You aren’t upset with me are you?” Jungkook asked when he arrives to your penthouse - it was a gift from him after you landed a modelling deal. He told you the cost was pocket change when you expressed concerns. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has his own suite just on the other side of the building - not yet at least. “I thought you knew I loved you, Y/N, how could you not?”
You could never stay mad with Jungkook, especially not when he wraps you in a warm embrace. He always smells so clean - like soap, oddly enough.
Jungkook’s lips are already on your neck, kissing down the soft skin as you shudder. “I want people to know you’re mine.” he murmurs against you, hands possessively pulling you close. “Want to show the world just how much I love and adore you.” he states.
You’re naked in a matter of seconds. You could never stay mad at Jungkook for long. A part of you believes that without Jungkook, you would be nowhere. You wouldn’t be feating upon fine dining meals with him, and instead would be eating the same take-out chinese in your much smaller apartment booking shitty horror movie gigs.
Jungkook had done what he promised you. He had made you a star. People knew your name. They actually liked you and your performance - there was going to be a sequel set to start filming at the end of the year and you had Jungkook to thank for that; for believing in you.
Jungkook’s lips kiss down your stomach, forcing your legs apart. Your back is against your silk sheets, the coolness of them adding goosebumps to your warm skin. His hands are soft, only a bit callused as they slide down your naked body and rest on your thighs.
“You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re my little shining star.” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. He doesn’t like to waste time, even if he does adore worshipping your body.
Jungkook’s tongue, ever so slowly, teases your clit. He’s shuddering with excitement at your moans, finding them far too enticing. Far too enticing that he shoves his tongue deeper against your wet cunt.
Your hand tangles into Jungkook’s hair, lightly tugging to keep him in place. Your eyes watch the way his head bobs back and forth, devouring your pussy like his finest meal. He’s moaning against it, lapping his warm tongue against your clit over and over again. Suckling sounds are growing louder and louder, fingernails digging into your inner thigh to assure you don’t attempt to move in the slightest.
“Feels s-so good.” you whimper, grinding your hips a bit against his tongue, allowing yet another moan from parted lips.
Eyes flicker up to look at you, clouded in darkened lust. He continues to suckle and lick, never coming up for a breath until your legs are shaking, back arching and you’re moaning so loud that it dances off the high ceilings. The scene is so beautiful, he thinks. The floor to ceiling-high windows display the city lights, but your penthouse is so high that you never close your curtains.
Your thighs close in, caging Jungkook between your legs. You’re greedily grinding against his tongue, your stomach churning and sinking in. Jungkook doesn’t go to stop you - he doesn’t mind the way your thighs are squeezing his head. Instead, he allows you to grind against his tongue until you’re cumming.
You’re whining, eyes squeezed shut. He knows you’re going to cum, so his fingers curling inside of your already greedy cunt was just the icing on the cake. You’re babbling Jungkook’s name over and over again, voice growing higher and higher. Your pussy is soaking his lips and chin entirely and eventually, you’re cumming all over him.
“You’re so beautiful, baby, and all mine.” Jungkook grunts, removing himself from your glistening clit. “Mine, mine, mine.”
Your chest rises and falls, your pussy clenching and unclenching.
“Say it.” Jungkook demands. He starts with his shirt first, removing it from his body and discarding it. “Say that you’re mine.” he continues. He goes to his pants next, tearing them off along with his underwear. His cock is throbbing to be deep in your warm cunt.
“I’m yours.” you murmur, glading wrapping your arms around Jungkook as he hovers above you. Your hands roam his bare chest, to his shoulders then down his biceps. “I’m yours.” you repeat, fluttering your lashes innocently like you do.
Damn right you were, Jungkook thinks.
Jungkook doesn’t care about wearing a condom, but you’re also adamant on being on birth control. You just became a big star, getting pregnant wasn’t something that’s going to ruin that.
Jungkook’s cock is shoved right into you, your walls immediately tightening around him. He doesn’t hesitate to press your legs over his shoulder, gripping your thigh as he begins to pump his cock in and out of you. The way Jungkook stretches you is intoxicating, his cock ruining your pussy with how rough he is - but you’ve never complained.
Jungkook knows he’s a great fucker - he’s been told countless times. But with you, it’s different. He cares about your pleasure. He wants you shaking with bliss with how well his cock fucks you, witnessing your arousal coating his cock and thighs.
“My little star,” Jungkook coo’s, your face drawn in such gratification. Your hands squeeze his bicep in an attempt to slow him down, but he wasn’t going to. “you’re so beautiful on my cock, baby. All mine.”
Jungkook’s speed quickens, his skin slapping harshly against yours and it echoes off the high ceilings. It was beginning to rain, the droplets slamming against the window. His cock is pounding so deep and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
“Your cock feels so good!” you gasp. Your hand squeezes his tattoo bicep for support, his tip reaching your g-spot each and every time.
“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. Your velvety walls entice him, sinking him deeper and deeper into you. He’s positive your thighs would have fingernail marks just as his biceps would have from yours, but of course neither of you care. “My shining star looks so pretty right now. You were upset because I told everyone I loved you, huh?”
Your cheeks are warm at the “love” word, but your heart is pounding. It all feels surreal - to be loved by someone like him. You were waiting to wake up one day and be back in your small apartment and for all of this to be a dream.
“N-No,” you cry, shaking your head a bit. “I love you, too.”
You’re unaware just how easily the two of you throw around the word love. Your love is from a mentee to a mentor, your admiration for Jungkook high. You never wanted to disappoint him and you prayed often that his own likeness for you wouldn’t fade.
Jungkook’s love for you is that of obsession, now - possession. He found you, a diamond in the rough, and gave you the opportunity of a lifetime. He molded you into the perfect star that you are now, beloved by the people and soon, you’d be at the top of the world.
All because of him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his eyes squinting into slits. “your pussy is amazing, my little star. All for me and me only.”
Jungkook forces your legs away and up against your shoulders. The new position causes you to yelp with how deep he is. He grinds his cock into you, watching your eyes widen and your lips fall apart.
“My pussy to fuck any time I want, right?” Jungkook growls, your bouncing breast enticing him. Fuck, did you feel good around him.
“Slow…slow down, Kook-”
“No,” Jungkook hisses. If anything, he goes harder.
You cry for Jungkook to slow down, but the way you were squeezing around him indicates that you don’t want him to. You’re milking his cock right now, leaking all over your bed that he’s paid for like a little whore. Your eyes water, becoming glossier as overstimulation hits you.
“My pussy to fuck as hard as I want, too. You belong to me, my little star. Everything when it comes to you is mine.”
You were so silly, Jungkook thinks, begging him to slow down but you’re cumming all over him. Sticky juices coating his abdomen as you lay limp against your bed, twitching legs - but Jungkook wasn’t done yet, not until he was cumming.
Your eyes are fluttering, moans a hushed whimper now as his cock pounds in and out of you sloppily, curses and grunts releasing from your lips until you feel him cum inside of you.
“You’re…firing me?”
You remain silent, eyes casting away as your agent looks between you and Jungkook.
“Y/N doesn’t need your services anymore.” Jungkook speaks up. You and he are seated in the diner and all you’re drinking is a latte at the moment. You were too nervous and you know you won’t be able to hold anything down.
Your agent scoffs. She licks her lips for a moment, glaring her eyes to you.
“Say something, Y/N.” she demands. “If you’re firing me, don’t have your boyfriend do it.” she scoffs with a bitter laugh.
Your body is warm with embarrassment and nerves. You didn’t want to look at her and see the look in her eyes of now being without a job. Your heart is pounding, your palms growing sweaty.
“You’re pathetic.” she groans.
“Watch your mouth.” Jungkook pipes in, his voice dangerously low.
The diner is nearly empty, only occupied with older people who always minded their business - one of the main reasons why Jungkook loved coming here with you. That, and the banana pancakes were the best in town.
“Fuck the both of you.” your now ex-agent spats, slamming her hands against the table. You are seated in the far back of the diner and no heads turn. “You think just because you’re an actress now that got your big break that you’re on top?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to be here right now. This wasn’t even your idea, you think, it was Jungkook. He was the one that suggested that he be your agent and manager as he was an actor and he understood the in’s and out’s of the entertainment industry. He could negotiate you for bigger and better deals and movie contracts that suited you the best - not some agent who wasn’t known at all.
“I said,” Jungkook hisses, leaning against the table. “watch your fucking mouth.” he says through gritted teeth. His hand reaches out and two fingers poke against her forehead roughly and rather disrespectfully. “I was nice enough to give you another client. Don’t piss me off.”
“Jungkook,” you murmur, finally glancing up. “Stop-”
“Fuck you.” your ex-agent repeats. She stands and shakes her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Y/N.”
You weren’t sure you did.
Everything went through Jungkook first before you. With Jungkook managing you, that meant that the opportunities were endless. You were an ambassador for popular and well-known brands. You got to wear - and keep - clothing from high end brands. You stared in tv-shows and commercials and got movie deals alongside actors you’ve never thought you’d be in the same room as - all like Jungkook.
But Jungkook wasn’t just your agent and manager, but your boyfriend. He reads the things people say about you online - the good, the bad and the perverted. There were accounts that said such disgusting things about you - what they wanted to do to you.
And your toes.
Jungkook had managed to get the site taken down, but that wasn’t the end of it. You received fanmail and gifts and he only ever kept those that were from girls, but it was hard.
“The script needs to be changed.” Jungkook scoffs, slamming the book down against the coffee table.
“What’s wrong with it?” the director asks with raised eyebrows. “Y/N is the lead. Our final girl.”
“And that’s amazing.” Jungkook shrugs. Jungkook had told them prior that if they wanted you in this movie, that you had to be the final girl. He wouldn’t allow you to play a useless character - you were his shining star and stars don’t die in movies. “But there’s a sex scene.”
The director scoffs. “Yea.” he says slowly. “This is a horror movie. Sex sells in horror.” he says. “There’s sex scenes in the movie you two did together.”
Jungkook tilts his head, unamused. There was a reason why he doesn’t care about the sex scene you and he did in his movie - and the director knows that.
“If you want Y/N in your movie,” Jungkook begins. “change. The. Scene.” he says slowly. “Or she’s going somewhere else.”
The scene was changed and at every shoot you were supposed to be on, Jungkook was there. He loves seeing you act - you were a natural. He adored driving down and seeing you on billboards or against buildings.
Jungkook does this to keep an eye on you, of course. He trusts you, but not whatever men that were on set.
It was even better when Jungkook and you walked together, side by side and arm in arm. You and him were the hottest couple the entertainment industry had. Jungkook made it his mission to support all your projects, supporting them during interviews and events, showing how supportive he was of you and your growing career.
You’re so busy with this new success that you don’t even notice your ex-agent never working in the industry again. Wherever she tries to tell her story of how horrible Jungkook treated her, her accounts would just get banned or people would refuse to believe it. She isn’t allowed in any event near you or him and is escorted out by security upon arrival.
You also don’t notice how everyone steer clears from you at times. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of Jungkook.
You haven’t heard the way he berated your co-star, not an unknown actress, but nowhere near his level, when she had accidently got in front of your shot during a scene.
You weren’t present when he threatened to make sure the director didn’t work in this industry again if he didn’t give you better clothing and lighting - his shining star deserved everything money could buy. After all, he was funding all of this.
You don’t - until you do.
You’ve never seen Jungkook so angry. The way he yells at the stylist for daring to dress you in clothes that aren't appealing. How she had cried before apologizing, rolling the rack of clothes out of your room. Your eyes have widened at Jungkook and he shakes his head. “It’s hard to get good help.”
“That was uncalled for.” you murmur. You turn your head to face him. He’s holding a small glass of dark liquor and he scoffs.
“Do you think I’d allow them to dress you in undeserving clothing, Y/N?” Jungkook licks his lips. “You deserve better.”
“You made her cry.” you cross your arms. “She’s just doing her job, Kook.”
Jungkook brings the glass to his lips again, dark eyes watching you as he takes another swig of it. “I’m doing my job, too.” he murmurs, licking his lips. “As your agent, manager and boyfriend.”
Your shoulders relax for a moment. You didn’t like when Jungkook was mean to people, especially at your expense. However, a side of you knew that he was doing this for your sake.
“I know.” you murmur, sighing. You drop your arms. “Still, go easy on them.”
Jungkook nods his head, but he knows more than anyone that he wasn’t going to go easy. Never when it came to you.
Whatever drama behind the scenes with Jeon Jungkook never made its way to the public. Whoever went against his orders were fired and blackballed - actors, crew, writers and directors. He had far too much pull in this industry that whatever happened behind closed doors would never see the light.
Jungkook loves you, however. You were his shining star, after all. He adored you with every fiber of his being. It’s why he finds himself now, on one knee with the largest diamond ring you’ve ever seen in your life. The crowd is screaming and the lights are flashing even faster now. At first you’re confused, until you hear everyone screaming “say yes”.
Your head turns to Jungkook and your eyes widen. Your heart is pumping so loudly in your ears that you find it hard to breathe. Your palms grow sweaty, nervousness building up. You were on the red carpet for a new movie - not a proposal.
Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you continue to look at him, a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It causes you to blink a few times before smiling widely. “...Y-Yes!” you squeal.
Jungkook slides the sparkling ring onto your finger and gets on your feet. He wraps you in his arms, kissing your forehead.
Jungkook senses your hesitance, the scared yet slightly upset look in your eyes - maybe because this was your moment that he had made about the two of you. Yet he does what he does because he loves you - you’re his shining star. He had molded you from the unknown actress in shitty movies, to a star whose light hadn’t faded all in under two years. He’s made you the top model, actress and ambassador - the least you could do was show him more appreciation for his hard word and investment.
After all, you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s wrath. He could show you another side of him that you wouldn’t love in the slightest.
SUMMARY. After a long, hellish week at work, the only thing you’re looking forward to doing is smoking a joint and winding down. But when you come up short on cash, your new dealer makes it clear he is as strict as he is dangerously hot. He only takes cash, and no, you can’t pay him back next time. Unless… you can find another way.
word count. 7.7k
warnings. dom!jungkook x sub!reader, nasty filthy smut, NSFW, penetration, oral sex, gun play, scratching, mention of drugs, jk and reader get very high, big dick jk, buying drugs, swearing, light blood mention, light impact play, use of weapons, size kink, praise + degradation, creampie
note. i bring to you dealer jk!! i hope you guys enjoy this fic, i am super excited to share this with you and thank you so much for all the love on thirst trap and the teaser. i was not expecting it to get as much attention as it did! you guys are the best. once again, no character in this story is based on anyone in real life, this is merely a work of fiction. also please make sure to read warnings before reading, there is consensual gun play. also, please leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic! it means a lot <3
You flipped through your wallet, then flipped through again, thumbs fumbling with the bills under the heated gaze pinning you in your seat. The low purr of the engine made it worse, like even his car was waiting on you. “I swore I had enough cash, I literally just went to the bank.”
Next to you, Jungkook sat silently, one hand steady on the wheel, the other rubbing at his chin. He didn’t say anything, staring ahead at the dimly lit street.
You cursed under your breath, hands flailing at your pajama pockets that you already knew would result in nothing at all. Between your legs was the little baggie that was supposed to transform your week—so in your grasp but slipping further and further as you realized your dire situation.
You looked up at him with an apologetic expression. “I-I don’t think I have the money.”
The tatted man took a deep breath, shutting his eyes, trying to regain composure. He chewed at his silver lip ring, in thought. “You made me drive 20 miles.”
“I know, I’m sorry! I really thought I had the cash.” Your voice cracked halfway through, palms clammy as you scrambled for excuses. “It’s just, this whole week at work’s been hell, and all I wanted was to wind down this weekend with some weed. My friend swore by you, and I guess I got too excited to check and…” You trailed off, eyes darting back to the baggie between your knees, taunting you. “And now I’m just, shit...”
Jungkook finally turned his head, eyes cutting to you. The harsh shadows of the streetlight carved into his sharp cheekbones, the strong slope of his nose, the metal glint of his lip ring. He didn’t look real. He looked like he belonged in some moody editorial. The sheer fact that this man was sitting next to you in a beat up car, jaw tight, cologne drawling in the air, made your words stumble even more than they already were.
“Can I… pay you back next time?” you tried weakly, the suggestion falling flat even to your own ears.
“Absolutely not.” His tone was flat and final. “I don’t even know you.”
You bristled, fumbling with your wallet again, your fingers trembling more from his stare than from nerves. “Okay, okay, but what about Venmo? Apple Pay? Anything?”
“I already told you.” He scoffed, low and humorless. “Cash. Only.” His eyes didn’t waver from your face, and it was unbearable, like he was dissecting every movement of your mouth.
You flipped through the same wallet again even though you knew it was useless, pretending to double-check. He didn’t even let you finish before cutting in, voice dark. “There’s nothing in there.”
Your head snapped up, heat rising in your cheeks. “So… now what?”
For a moment he didn’t answer. Then, slow as ever, Jungkook reached across the small space between your legs, his tattooed hand brushing low until his fingers grazed the baggie nestled between your thighs.
Your entire body jolted, face going bright red. “E-Excuse me!”
Unbothered, he plucked the weed back, knuckles grazing your leg with casual assertion, and leaned back into his seat. “Hit me up when you have the money.”
Desperation made your hand dart out before your brain caught up. You grabbed his wrist lightly, holding him in place. Not sternly, but just enough. The second you touched him, his gaze darkened, eyes flicking down to your fingers on his skin before returning to your face, heavier.
“C’mon,” you sighed. At the base of your neck, a deep heat settled as you took in his response to your bold move.
Silence pressed in like smoke. He didn’t move, his expression unreadable.
“You know what?” he said finally, voice measured. “Maybe there is something.” His thumb drummed once against the steering wheel before he nodded toward your building. “Let’s smoke first.”
The flight of stairs to your apartment was silent. Painfully so. The tall man loomed behind you, with arms crossed over his chest, watching you mess with your keys.
When you got into your apartment, his eyes darted around, narrowing at your sofa in the middle of your living room. “Smoke here?” he murmured, voice gravel-low.
You barely managed a nod before he was already lowering himself into the cushions, broad shoulders sinking into the fabric like he belonged there. He shrugged off his leather jacket, fluidly revealing curved colored tattoos.
You sat gingerly at the other end of the couch, a bit too far away, palms flat against your thighs. He didn’t look at you, not right away, just pulled the baggie out with casual ease, plucking at papers from his pocket. You watched in silence as he rolled with practiced precision, fingers deft and certain. When his tongue dragged a wet stripe along the paper before sealing it shut, you felt something strange ripple through your chest. He looked unfairly good doing it.
The blue flicker of his lighter caught the edge of the joint, and he leaned back, one arm slung over the back of the sofa. He offered it to you without a word.
You took it, inhaling carefully. The smoke burned hotter than you expected, clawing at your lungs until you coughed, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth.
Jungkook tilted his head, watching you with a faint curve at the corner of his lip. Then, without comment, he took it back and drew in deep, holding it with ease.
“This isn’t how I pictured my Friday night,” you admitted softly, voice scratchy from the smoke.
“Mm.” He exhaled slowly, smoke spilling like mist. “What do you do?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Accounts. Paperwork, spreadsheets… boring stuff.”
One raven brow lifted. “Numbers?”
“Yeah,” you said with a hollow sigh. “Numbers, audits, invoices. Glamorous, right?”
The corner of his mouth tugged faint, almost like a smirk. “Kind of what I do.”
You glanced over out of curiosity, tucking a hair behind your ear. “What, balancing ledgers?”
His eyes cut toward you, sharp even under the fog. “Among other things.”
“What are other things?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
He just laughed, low and quiet, leaving the question hanging between you.
Your curiosity sparked, but you didn’t press. “I only do it occasionally, you know. To relax.”
Jungkook chuckled low, smoke curling from his lips. “Doesn’t look like you’re very relaxed, pretty.”
The word pretty hit you harder than the joint did. You swallowed, trying to mask it with another pull when he passed it back. The smoke burned, but you forced yourself to hold it, coughing only when you finally exhaled. Embarrassed at how much your body reacted. Relax, you told yourself. Calm down.
“Not much of a smoker,” he observed, voice roughened with amusement.
“Yeah, well.” You exhaled shakily, settling back into the couch. “Guess I need more practice.”
His chuckle was quieter this time, under his breath, but it stayed in the air between you. The conversation slowed after that, little pauses stretching longer, words softening with the high settling in. Your cheeks felt warm, your eyes half-lidded, red and tired. You knew the high was setting in when you felt a warm rush, a lazy sweet buzz that made you feel like your fingertips were tingling. When you glanced over, you noticed Jungkook’s gaze matched yours, darker now, glassed over, a light flush coating his dewy skin. He looked pretty, in an oddly soft way.
He cracked his neck slowly, the sharp sound cutting through the grey air. When you looked back at him, his eyes were already on you, lingering too long, tracing your features as though committing them to memory.
“What?” you asked, catching a lip between your teeth. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
His jaw shifted. Finally, his voice broke the silence. “You’re very pretty.”
Heat pooled in your cheeks, and you thanked him gently, the word barely above a murmur. He nodded back, but his eyes were subdued, softer. Something in you shifted, lightly, as though the smoke had tipped you off balance.
Your eyes couldn’t stop catching on his flexed body, particularly his half clothed arms. Without thinking, your fingers brushed over the ink spiraling down his forearm.
You traced the lines until they grew bolder at a wide petalled flower etched in blue and orange. “What does this one mean?” you asked, voice quieter.
His eyes dropped to where your fingertip lingered. If he was affected, he didn’t let it show. “Protection,” he said after a beat. “It’s supposed to keep bad luck away.”
“Does it work?” you asked. You ran a knuckle over a curved petal.
His tongue darted across his lips. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
You let your touch drift upward, across the thick slope of his arm. His bicep flexed beneath your palm, solid and warm. The movement drew your breath shallow. “And this?” you pressed, brushing over a jagged black design near his shoulder.
His lip ring caught the light as he took a deep hit of the joint. “That one’s nothing. Just a doodle.”
“Kind of a waste,” you murmured, tracing it twice. “Feels like everything on you should mean something.”
That was when his hand closed around your wrist. Not tight, but just enough to pause you. His grip burned hot against your skin, as if he’d pressed the very joint between his lips against you.
His eyes flicked up to yours, decided. “What are you trying to do, baby?”
You froze, lips parting but no sound coming out. “I…”
He watched you like he had all the time in the world, not challenging your hesitance.
Your throat tightened, the words catching, so instead you let your pulse answer for you. You paused a beat, then tilted your chin up and pressed your mouth to his before you could overthink it.
His mouth was warm, unmoving at first, and for a split second you thought you’d made a mistake. Then his lips pressed back decisive, and the air left your lungs in a rush.
He tasted like nothing you expected. How could someone taste so brilliant? The musky taste of weed lingered on his tongue with the spiced freshness of cinnamon gum that it seemed like he had just recently chewed. The chilled metal sting of his lip ring danced across your lips. He tasted like magic, like a spell that was crafted just to lure you in. The kiss was anything but shallow. It was the deep depths of the ocean, the violent waves that broke apart even the strongest of ships. His tongue swirled in your mouth, his wet muscle exploring like no one ever had.
His palms pressed into your face, cradling you. Not forcefully, but stern. He kept you in place and cupped you close to him like you were the most precious thing he had.
Even through the lazy haze of what you had smoked, you couldn’t help but open your eyes to peer at the beautiful man you were kissing. His dark lashes crested his cheek and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. His eyebrow piercing caught the light and gleamed. The weed had your mind fucked, you thought, because you felt like you were kissing a Grecian statue, a man so handsome he could only be carved by an artist himself. You wanted him more than you ever had before. You nipped at his bottom lip and suckled at it, and in response he moaned into your mouth deeply. Your bite was strong enough to draw the smallest trace of blood, and the salty, delicious tang of his bleeding lip mixed into your mouth. Clearly, Jungkook liked the rough gesture quite a bit. He lowered a veined tattooed hand and gripped at your ass, kneading the clothed flesh with vigor.
When you finally pulled back to breathe, Jungkook seemed even higher than before. His eyes were heavy and glazed, and he ran his teeth over his bruised, swollen lip.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he rasped. You didn’t even have time to respond before his mouth was on you again, this time suckling bruises into the thin skin of your jaw. He was greedy for you, leaving open-mouthed kisses over the side of your face, licking and sucking at whatever skin he could find. His mouth found your neck and he licked a thick flat stripe, savoring the taste. You shuddered deeply in response and clutched at his inked bicep.
“F-fuck,” you whimpered out as he found a particularly sensitive spot at the base of your neck. He relentlessly sucked blossoming bruises you could only find tomorrow. Your hands roamed down his arms, relishing the way his muscles rippled underneath as he tensed at your touch. His hand left your ass to sweep up under your shirt to feel the honeyed skin of your belly. He dragged his nails across your abdomen, leaving trails of heat over your skin that tightened beneath his touch. You arched into his sharp caress, letting out a shaky breath.
Jungkook pulled back from your neck, his hand still up your shirt, and reached behind your head, grabbing the joint. He brought it to his flushed mouth and took a drag before pressing it to your lips. Eager to not break the delicious haze you were in, you took a deep inhale, letting the smoke fog your brain again.
“That’s it, baby.” He encouraged, “Breathe it in.”
Baby. You warmed at the nickname, smiling shyly before pointing your head up and blowing the smoke out, creating a cloud over the both of you.
Jungkook’s fingers traced your neck, analyzing the mess he made on you. “Bet you’ll stare at these in the mirror later and think of me.”
“Make more.” You leaned away from him, dragging his warm hand out of your shirt. He watched intently as you pulled your shirt over your head, your tits bouncing free and hardening immediately at the chill in the air.
“Holy fuck.” He admired, “Fucking divine.” His hands were quick to seize your tits, kneading them roughly as though testing their weight. His hand fit perfectly over them, as if they were made just to rest in the palm of his hands. He lowered his head, kissing over the swell before taking a nipple into his mouth with a deep groan. He sucked hard, his other hand twisting at the peak of your other breast. He was manhandling your tits like he owned them, like he was made to do this.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, leaning into his warm mouth. He hummed and clamped his teeth around one nipple gently and pulled. You hissed at the sweet sensation and squeezed his shoulder. A heartbeat grew between your legs, each pulse stronger than the last. Your eager hands kept roaming, squeezing wherever you pleased, greedy for every inch of him. You traced the way his shoulders curved like heavy mountains and how his triceps flexed with each teasing squeeze of your tits. Your palms slid lower, mapping the firm slopes of his arms before dipping into the surprisingly delicate curve of his waist.
Your fingers wandered further, hungry, until you brushed the thick muscle of his thighs. They were solid, unyielding, carved like rock under your touch. Heat radiated from them, and when you gave an experimental squeeze, the muscle twitched beneath your palm, alive, flexing as if in answer to your touch. This elicited a deep, primal groan from Jungkook. His thighs weren’t just strong; they were dangerous, made to cage you and hold you in place. The thought alone made your breath hitch and the ache in your core sharpen.
Your hands wandered further down, curious fingers tracing at the rough pockets of his jeans until you brushed against something cold. Solid. Surprised, you broke out of your trance and jerked forward as if you’d been burned. The haze of the smoke and lust cracked as you realized… Jungkook was armed. Your breath stuttered, your pulse went uneven. A thousand thoughts clawed at the back of your head. What the fuck were you really thinking, letting this man into your apartment? Of course he had a fucking gun; he was a dealer. How could you be so seduced by him that you didn’t even realize he could actually be dangerous?
Jungkook froze too, not because he was startled, but because he wanted to watch you. His hand stilled on your breast, lips hovering just above your skin, eyes dragging up to lock with yours. The knowing smirk he carried was gone, replaced by something darker, sharper. He didn’t say a word, just studied your face like he was waiting for your verdict.
“You really… carry that around?” you whispered, eyes glancing back and forth wildly from the thick metal and Jungkook’s unwavering gaze. Being in such close proximity to the weapon had your mind numb.
His hand never left your tits, his thumb flicking at your erect nipples with a surprising ease. “Yeah,” he rumbled. “Like I said, I do a lot of things, pretty.”
His words should’ve calmed you, but paired with the cold analytical steel of his eyes, they only made your pulse falter further. He tilted his head, catching the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.
“Don’t look so scared.” One calloused hand reached up, fingers brushing your jaw, coaxing your face back to his. “I’d never hurt you. Not unless you ask real nice.”
“What?” You shivered.
His smirk curved slow and timed, like he was thriving off the shift in your body. You sat up. He leaned closer, lips grazing your ear with a snake-like precision.
“Maybe,” he whispered, “you could put those pretty lips to better use.”
His hand slipped over your wrist, guiding it back toward the cool steel. He flattened his palm against your smaller one, letting you feel the real weight of the glock pressed against his thigh.
“Bet you’d look so fucking hot with it in your mouth. Like you’re sucking me off.”
Want pressed heavy between your thighs, insistent and sticky, demanding to be touched. The sound of his twisted, menacing words hit you harder than expected, and your panties started to stick to you uncomfortably, the cloth becoming damp and sticky.
“Y-you want me to put that in my mouth?” Your eyes stayed heavy on his palm flexing your hand on the gun. He reached up again, brushing a spare lock behind your ear.
“Only if you want to.” He eased. He paused, drinking up your shaky breaths and widened eyes. “You wanna give it a try for me?”
The way he asked, you would give anything a try. You nodded, squeezing your clothed thighs, and he chuckled. He leaned over, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder before issuing his command. “Get on your knees, baby.”
You stood with a sense of urgency that you hadn’t had before, not even when Jungkook’s tongue was down your throat. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes trained on your figure. Your thumbs hooked into the sides of your pajamas as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in your sticky panties glued to your mound. You heard Jungkook inhale next to you, a sound so quiet and tender you almost missed it.
The fabric pooled at your ankles uselessly as you stepped out of it. The chilled apartment air prickled over your bare creamy thighs like the room was breathing with you. When you sank to your knees the carpet’s rough pattern dug into your knee, leaving a welcoming reminder that this was real. You were kneeled in front of Jungkook, mouth ready for anything you were given.
You folded your hands before you, like you were at the altar, and peered up at him through dark lashes. Wide-eyed, trembling, yet impossibly willing. Like a baby deer stumbling into a wolf’s den. A deceitfully innocent baby deer.
“Fuck…” Jungkook cursed under his breath, his tongue sweeping over his lip ring as he took you in. “Aren’t you fucking something.”
His hand dipped to his thigh, removing the dangerous cold steel. The gun came free, gleaming in the dim light the way he did. He leaned back into the couch, legs spreading wide in a deliberate manly sprawl. The weapon rose in his grip, angled down at you, thick and girthy like it was Jungkook’s own cock.
His gaze reeled you in, heavy and arrogant, as his words spilled like smoke into the space between you. “Open up.”
Your lips parted in desire, and you opened your little pink mouth for him to use. You drew your shoulders inward, the motion pressing your tits together and straining them upwards for him to admire. His grip on his gun grew tighter, and a little vein in his temple shifted. “Lick.”
You extended your wet tongue out and pressed it against the base of his knuckle and traced the length until your tongue reached the tip. Jungkook shivered as your tongue slithered lightly over his finger. The cool metal tasted acrid like iron and smoke, but you still savored the lingering taste like Jungkook was branding you inside out.
“You’re so fucking filthy,” Jungkook admired. He reached a hand out, patting your cheek before giving you a light slap. The sting was delicious, divine even, and you moaned softly, rutting into the carpet underneath you for sweet friction.
All fear you had was gone, replaced by withering, deep desire. Jungkook angled the barrel against your lips, nudging until you opened for him again. His hand guided the heavy metal into your mouth, sliding it slow, deliberate, in and out of your mouth. The weight of it pressed against your tongue obscenely, as he fucked your mouth with it.
“Just like that,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the way your lips stretched around it. You hollowed your cheeks obediently, sucking gently, giving him the same innocent gaze like you had no idea how filthy you looked. The sides of your mouth slicked with spit, warm trails running down to your chin.
Jungkook’s breathing hitched, his thighs flexing where he sat sprawled in front of you, cock straining visibly against his jeans. He looked as affected as you were, jaw tight, veins straining in his forearm as he kept the steady movement. “Fuck… you’re killing me,” he growled.
When your spit finally dripped down your chin and onto your breasts, he stilled you with a sharp tug of your hair. You moaned at the tug and at his intense gaze. Jungkook dragged the gun free from your mouth, slick and messy, and ran the barrel down your jaw, collecting the drool that clung there. His eyes darkened further, almost feral, as he brought the weapon to his own lips. Without hesitation, he licked the steel, tasting you, his tongue running over the wetness you’d left behind.
His eyes fluttered shut for a beat as he savored it, chest rising unevenly. When they opened again, they gleamed with something wild. “Fucking sweet,” he rasped, his voice basking on the edge of mania.
The act was so obscene you thought the rush you got from it was going to make you snap in two. Your jaw dropped in shock, and you swore you could cum untouched from the action alone.
“Jungkook…” you started, the name spilling out before your thoughts could catch up.
He rested the gun on his thigh, head cocked to the side as he drank in your fucked-out expression.
“I need you.” You weren’t even sure what you meant, what exactly you needed him to do. Only that your body demanded him, begged him, craved solace from the candle burning low in your belly and dripping onto the carpet beneath you.
Jungkook went quiet, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, you thought he might haul you back onto the couch or throw you over his shoulder. But no, Jungkook was never one for the predictable. He rose, towering just long enough for you to tilt your chin up to follow him, before lowering himself to the ground beside you, like a predator crouching close to its prey. His proximity stole your breath, and you gaped at him, your need swelling until it burned the voice out of your throat. You pressed harder into the carpet, desperate to ground yourself against the slick heat gathering between your thighs.
Jungkook’s gaze flickered down, then back up, and he leaned closer, centimeters from your face. “What do you want me to do to you, baby?”
You felt like someone had strangled the air out of your lungs. Words tangled in your throat, your lips parted but no sound came out. The silence stretched, the only hum in the air the buzz of your freezer. Jungkook raised a sympathetic hand up to your face, cradling your cheek and running a thumb across the tender flesh.
“I said, tell me what you want me to do to you or I’ll leave you dripping.” The promise was sudden and harsh, sending a chill down your spine.
“N-no, no, no, no. Please touch me, Jungkook, please.” You shook your head frantically, words spilling out broken. You couldn’t be left high and dry — you’d die from desperation.
“Where, baby? How do you want me to touch you?” His voice softened as he caressed your face.
Your mouth opened, then closed, your throat catching on every word. “I—fuck, I want—I need…” You licked your lips. “Please, Jungkook. Please just—fuck me. I need your cock, I need it in me, please.”
Jungkook’s mouth curved, satisfied at your response. “That’s my girl.” His voice dropped so low it rattled through your chest.
He pressed a heavy palm to your torso and pushed lightly. “Lie down for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.” God, you wanted to feel good.
You obeyed without hesitation, laying back onto the carpet, knees up and hands resting by your side. You raised your head to watch Jungkook’s movements, not wanting to miss a single beat.
Jungkook admired you, pressing a tender kiss at your knee and running his hands up your soft thighs, squeezing the fleshiest part. “So smooth,” he huffed out.
You gasped softly as his fingers hooked into your simple cotton panties before he dragged them down your legs. The cool air hit your throbbing, heated core, and you leaned your head back, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation and relief from your ruined underwear. You glistened beautifully, your clit peeking out from your tender folds.
His breath hitched, and for a moment he stared at your arousal. His tongue fiddled with his lip ring, and he ran an experimental thumb up your slit, nudging at your clit.
“Oh!” You gasped, and he chuckled.
His palms anchored against the insides of your knees, prying you wide until you were stretched to your limit, spread helpless beneath him.
He let out a noise low from his throat. “Such a pretty fucking pussy.” His voice was wrecked with want.
You shivered and bit your lip, turning your face away to hide your heated cheeks.
He tutted. “Look at me, baby. Look at me while I make you feel good.” You locked your hooded eyes onto his.
Jungkook’s gaze was sharp and dark, so intense it pinned you to the floor more than his hands ever could. He leaned back onto his heels, one hand fumbling for the forgotten joint, the thin curl of smoke still glowing faintly. He brought it to his own lips, inhaled deep, then pressed it back to your mouth. “Take a hit, baby,” he murmured, voice smoky itself. “I want you high as fuck while I ruin you.”
You listened, of course, lips parting around the rough paper as you drew in. The burn scorched your lungs, mixing with the dizzy throb between your thighs. Before you could exhale, Jungkook pressed a lingering kiss just above your knee, then another closer to your heat, his lips trailing fire as they moved higher.
By the time he reached the softest part of your inner thigh, you were trembling, a whimper slipping out. His mouth lingered there, plush lips sucking a bruise into your soft flesh before he finally shifted, dragging his lip ring directly over your swollen clit. The sharp chill of metal against your most sensitive nerve sent you arching off the floor with a cry, the joint nearly tumbling from your fingers.
“Fuck!” you cried out, attempting to arch up, but his firm hands kept you in place. You reached one hand into his hair, not yanking but curling and intertwining with his soft locks.
That’s when he lost his restraint. Jungkook’s mouth sealed over you, tongue plunging deep, then circling back up to suck your clit with brutal pressure. He groaned into your folds like he couldn’t get enough, the vibrations rattling through your bones. Your hips thrashed, your thighs attempting to clamp him in, but he just held you open and devoured you like a starving man.
Every drag of his tongue was merciless, every suck harsher than the last. Your back bowed, your nails scraped his scalp, and the joint burned into the carpet.
The high of the weed and the high of getting devoured by Jungkook had your brain in a trance, your vision growing spottier as you babbled. “Feels s-so good, feels so good, thank you, thank you…”
His fingers dug deeper into your thighs, holding you wide open as if you were nothing but his feast. “Damn right it does,” he muttered into your folds before sucking harder, punishing and worshipping all at once. Your mouth fell open, unable to hold onto all the pleasure coursing through your body.
The fire in your belly grew, and Jungkook fed into it with each brutal caress of his tongue. The fire was so intense you could only relieve it by chasing and running away from his relentless mouth. But he kept you pinned, his well-crafted muscles and inked hands keeping you down with no effort at all. You bit down on your lip, swelling it beyond what Jungkook had done to your mouth. The fire built and roared until you were seconds from being ignited all over.
“Come on, baby.” He urged, still buried between your legs. You echoed his name as you came, every nerve engulfed in molten pleasure. The sparks of your orgasm froze your body, and your spine jerked wildly.
Jungkook eased your burning heat by detaching from your clit with a wet pop and pressing kisses on your plush folds, lapping softly at your sweet juices. When you finally calmed, your neck was covered with a light sheen of sweat and your chest heaved up and down. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain control of your body.
Jungkook released your knees and shifted forward, settling between your legs. The weight of him, still fully clothed while you lay bare and wrecked beneath him, elicited a gasp from you. Your eyes fluttered open to watch his gaze run down your flushed, trembling figure. His tongue darted out, licking your essence off his lip ring.
“One orgasm wrecked you this badly,” he murmured in your ear. You whimpered weakly, rubbing your head into his. He drew lazy circles on your hipbone, the other hand resting by your head. His eyes were red and glassed over, the high taking over him as strongly as it had you.
“Jungkook…” You breathed out, reaching one hand into his hair again. He hummed in delight as you steadied yourself, letting your fingers entangle in the longer hair at the nape of his neck.
“Come back to me, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” The promise had you shifting underneath him, eyes going wide.
“Y-you’re not?”
“Mhm. Still gotta fuck you, pretty girl.” His nose nudged yours, the gesture gentle in contrast with his delectably dark gaze.
“Can’t waste a pussy that perfect on just my mouth,” he continued, his lip ring nudging at your lips.
Your eyes chased his before you lowered a hand, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.
“Fuck me then.” You weren’t sure if it was a plea, demand, or a prayer.
Jungkook’s mouth twitched into something darkly amused, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted back onto his knees, dragging the hem of his shirt over his head. The fabric peeled away slow, and your breath caught at the sight of him. His torso seemed like it was cut from marble, abs ridged and sharp. A colorful sleeve wrapped one arm, ink twisting over his thick muscle in bold mysterious strokes, somehow making you higher than you were.
His eyes didn’t leave yours as you reached up, fingers tentative, brushing along his chiseled torso. The muscles shifted beneath your touch, and Jungkook’s breath came out in shaky gasps, like he hadn’t expected your touch.
Then he pushed to his feet, making quick work of his jeans. His dark denim slid to the floor, followed by black boxers that clung to his well-defined waist. His cock sprang free, heavy, flushed an angry red that deepened to a beautiful blushed purple at the tip, veins pulsing thickly along the shaft. The sight alone had your mouth drying, your thighs pressing together in want. His cock was as gorgeous as him.
“C-can I…” Your voice trailed off, hand twitching upward.
His jaw clenched, the vein at his temple flexing. “Yeah. Touch me.” He lowered himself back to his knees in front of you.
Your hand wrapped around him gingerly at first, then with more confidence, stroking the velvety skin. Jungkook groaned low, head tipping back as his cock twitched in your hand. His hand caught your wrist, not to stop you but to feel your movements. Your thumb ran over his sensitive head, and you smeared the pre-cum down his shaft. He hissed in delight, his eyes shifting rapidly under his closed eyelids. You watched him, amazed like he was art itself. Jungkook’s eyes flew open when you leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his hip bone. You weren’t sure where the softness came from, maybe from the shadowed aftermath of the hits you had taken of the joint.
“You’re killing me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth.
You blinked up at him before you flattened back onto the carpet, guiding his fat cock head to press onto your soaked folds. His breath tore ragged, and he muttered a curse so filthy it made you blush. He lowered himself over you, hands on either side as you continued to tease him lightly. You gripped his shaft and slid his cock up and down your slit, and moaned gently in his ear when it nudged your clit. Jungkook was evidently having trouble restraining himself, his breath fanning out on your face each time he tremored from the pleasure. Your slick coated him perfectly, his cock glazed over in his pre-cum and your juices.
He reached down, pressing his forehead to yours, sweat dampening his hairline. “S-stop fucking teasing me, pretty,” he said weakly, his hips bucking against your hand.
You reached a tender hand up and ran your fingers along the side of his face. “You promise to cum in me?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened for a split second before darkening into something primal, his jaw flexing as if he was trying to hold himself back.
He hissed out as you let his tip rest against your fluttering hole. “Fuck, I-I’ll fill you to the fucking brim.”
Satisfied, you pressed down on his tip. The fat crown popped inside with little resistance. You moaned at the light intrusion, the sting so good, so delicious, you needed more.
Jungkook finally had enough of your feather touches. Suddenly, he gripped the sides of your curved thighs. He lifted both your legs up and pressed down under the backs of your knees, letting your thighs press into your stomach. Your ankles were in the air, on either side of his ears. Jungkook slithered between your lifted legs, hands firm at the back of your thighs, and savored the sight of your thick pussy in his clear view, glistening with evidence of how he’d wolfed down on you just minutes ago. Your swollen pink clit peaked out, and your hole fluttered in anticipation.
“Jungkook—” You didn’t have to finish your sentence as Jungkook started pushing in, knocking the air out of your lungs. The noise that ripped out of your throat was something you’d never heard, an erotic cross between a whine and a moan. To say Jungkook was stretching you out was an understatement — he was ripping you open, tearing you apart to make a mold out of you. A place in your sopping core only meant for him. The sting was so good, so filthy, so deliciously painful all you could think of was him. Jungkook hissed as he met resistance and released one thigh for a quick second to pinch at your abused clit.
“Oh my god!” you yelped, head shooting back into the rugged carpet.
“Your cunt’s choking me out,” he said through gritted teeth and pushed in more, shifting his hips side to side to make space. You were euphoric, enjoying every moment of being speared open by the handsome, inked deviant. Soon, your greedy hole started trying to suck him in, clenching and gripping around him with such intensity that Jungkook’s jaw dropped.
“F-feels so fucking good, pretty,” he groaned out, and bottomed out. His balls slapped against your ass, and he stilled, needing a second to ground himself.
“Fuck, Jungkook—you’re so fucking big,” you moaned loudly, eyes rolling back. You were so full that you thought you were going to burst. Your lower belly bulged with his cock, and Jungkook could see his own imprint perfectly. He couldn’t take it anymore; he shifted his hand back to the back of your thigh and pulled out till his balls slapped your ass.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice ragged.
“You’re so fucking big, my god, you’re splitting me open,” you sobbed, clenching tighter at the filthy confession.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tight, dragging your nails over his skin. He started pummeling into you with a force you had never felt before. Your body rocked underneath him, the burn of the carpet stinging your shoulder blades and spine, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered when Jungkook was burning his mark in you. Your tits bounced with each weighty thrust, and your tummy was taut in pleasure.
“Look at these,” he rasped, slapping one tender mound hard enough to make you squeak. The slap shot straight to your core. He palmed both breasts, squeezing, twisting your nipples between his calloused fingers. “Obsessed. I’m fucking obsessed. Gonna ruin them, mark them up till they ache.”
Your back arched into his greedy touch. You were for sure going to have marks tomorrow. He licked a stripe over one peak before sucking it harshly into his mouth, teeth grazing your pebbled nipple until you gasped out again. Your eyes squeezed shut so tight you could see geometric patterns, and your lips pouted out, savoring each filthy jolt of him fucking into you.
Jungkook let out a shaky breath, seeing your euphoric face. His pace turned relentless and punishing, pulling out with each stroke and shoving back in with full force. His mouth started pouring out filthy promises, causing a blush to rise off your neck.
“I’m gonna cum in you so deep, you’ll feel me for days, baby,” he vowed.
Tears pricked your eyes, the sensation of being stretched and his filthy words too much for you to handle.
“Jungkook,” you gasped, suddenly remembering. “Jungkook, the gun.”
His hips stuttered to a pause, and he stayed buried in you, analyzing your face. He panted over you, quirking a raven brow.
You let your hands roam down his solid torso and stopped where you both joined, letting your fingers brush against him. “Please, I wanna feel it again.”
The sentence and your gentle brush pulled a feral noise from his chest. He reached for it, understanding what you wanted instantly, and pressed the cold barrel against your throat. Your pulse jumped under the steel, heat and fear twisting into something intense. When he resumed his thrusts, your eyes rolled back, savoring the feeling of the dangerous object holding you down along with him.
You had to be crazy for letting a stranger point a gun at your throat, but your rational side had taken a backseat ages ago. Jungkook’s punishing strokes did the deed of pushing away any sanity, any reasoning, any thoughts you had.
Each time you leaked around him or let out a pleading gasp, Jungkook forced the gun harder against your tender throat and savored the way your head leaned against the carpet and your eyebrows knitted together in desperation. You were a mess, a shaking fragile version of yourself about to snap in half at any second. You had no doubts he could feel how close you were, and his plump cock head kissing at the spongy spot deep in you wasn’t helping. You curled into him, running away from the raw scrapes of the carpet burn starting to form on your figure, and he accepted you gladly, burying his face into your neck.
“You’re about to cum, aren’t you, baby?” he breathed out, his veined length driving into you as if it was made for you.
You nodded vehemently, arms wrapping around him and scratching down his back. Jungkook hissed in delight. The ceiling swam above you, clouded by his broad shoulders hovering and blocking anything in your field of vision. The coil in your belly was getting tighter and tighter, and your toes curled out. Salty tears ran down your chin as you felt yourself snap, a wave of unbridled, pure pleasure coursing through your body. You grasped at anything and everything he gave you, your nails digging into his lower back, his shoulders, his biceps, his jaw. His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, enjoying the piercing prick of your nails as they branded him like proof. If your vision wasn’t darkened by your raging orgasm, you would have seen the red trails blooming on his olive skin.
“Fuck, good girl, that’s it, I’ve got you.” He eased, letting his gun run down the side of your face. His thrusts slowed but deepened, and his eyes trailed over your knitted face and then his own scratched arms.
“Marked me up real fucking good when you came, baby.” He said it with a low, half-broken laugh.
You couldn’t even reply, so fucked out from your brutal peak. His powerful thrusts bounced you up and down on the carpet, and your face lulled to the side, lying flat with closed eyes. He dropped his gun by your head and grabbed your jaw with his hands, squeezing your cheeks together so your lips formed a swollen pucker.
He leaned down and kissed you, with an unexpected softness. You moaned softly and kissed back, returning from your haze. “J-Jungkook…” You trailed off.
“Tell me, baby.”
“I want you to cum.” You urged, your eyes glazed over and bearing into his.
Your shudders barely faded before he was chasing his own high. He drove forward into you, greedy, using your limp weight as his own little toy. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, his jaw locked tight, chasing a peak with the kind of hunger that looked like it might consume him.
He pumped into you rabidly, hands balled up by your head and teeth gritted like he was hanging on his last thread of control. He used one hand to hoist your leg on his hip like you were some sort of glorified doll and drilled into you. He groaned out loudly, sweat beading and collecting at his forehead as he bullied your tight heat.
“Oh my god!” you squealed weakly as he angled into you. “Cum in me, please, please, please.” You begged.
“I’m gonna—” Jungkook couldn’t finish his warning before hot ropes of his release shot inside you.
“Holy fuck.” You gasped out and lowered your eyes, watching your sopping heat get filled up. Jungkook’s mouth opened in a beautiful O-shape, and his hips shifted as he fucked out his orgasm.
“Take it all,” he rasped, voice ruined. “Every drop.”
You were helplessly sensitive, feeling your sopping hole filled to the brim. His body rocked against yours lazily as he made sure every drop of him was squeezed out into you. He kept himself plugged in, making sure nothing went to waste. You could feel the thick veins of his length drag against you.
Finally, Jungkook stilled, resting his forehead against yours and panting, trying to catch the life that had escaped him from drilling into you at a manic pace. He slipped out, and you flinched at the sudden loss of fullness. You felt his lashes flutter against your eyelids, and he ran a large hand down your body and cupped your heat.
“Filled you all the way up like you wanted, pretty.” His voice was mesmerizing, dripping with honey, so contrary to his roughness that was on display just seconds ago.
You whimpered as his palm pressed against your swollen folds and clenched your thighs around his hand, keeping it trapped between your fleshy curves.
He chuckled at your silence. “Not gonna thank me?”
“Thank you,” you panted, words tumbling out shamelessly. “Thank you for filling me, f-fuck, thank you.”
He pressed his palm flatter against you. “You’re so welcome, baby.”
You clenched tighter around his hand until the tremors dulled, until all you could do was collapse against the floor, boneless and wrecked. His laughter brushed over your skin, low and smug, before he finally pulled back, leaving the simmer of absence everywhere he touched.
The silence after was heavy but not awkward, only your panting filling it, and then his voice cut through smooth and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just ruined you.
“So,” he drawled, brushing his thumb over your hip like punctuation. “You wanna smoke again?”
warnings: just jungkook being a perv, raw (wrap it guys)
a/n: this is so ass sorry. PLEASE read my rules before requesting, i will have the nanami ver of my gojo hcs tmr (hopefully) . not proofread as usual so ignore mistakes. first kpop post nervous
perv!roommate jungkook who looks like the sweetest, most innocent guy ever— polite smile, shy glances, always offering to help you with little things around the apartment.
perv!roommate jungkook who secretly can’t stop stealing your panties, jerking off with them stuffed against his face while groaning your name into the sheets.
perv!roommate jungkook who always tries to look at your body any chance he gets. he asks you to get the pan from the lower cabinet, knowing you have to bend over to reach it.
perv!roommate jungkook who finally slips up with the door cracked, cock in his hand, your underwear pressed to his mouth when you catch him.
perv!roommate jungkook who stutters, trying to cover himself, cheeks burning red when you catch him. he thought he was going to get yelled at, but he was surprised when you just smiled.
perv!roommate jungkook who nearly loses his mind when you climb onto his lap, kissing him rough, giving him exactly what he’s been dreaming about.
perv!roommate jungkook who pushes you down on his bed, fucking into you hard and desperate, whining your name against your neck.
perv!roommate jungkook who cums deep inside you, moaning about how much better you feel than he ever imagined, still holding your panties in his fist.
perv!roommate jungkook who can’t stop after just once — flipping you over onto your stomach, rutting back into you with messy groans, like he’s been starving for years.
perv!roommate jungkook who keeps calling you “his,” eyes dazed as he stuffs his cock in deeper and deeper, drunk on the feeling of finally having you.
perv!roommate jungkook who looks at you after, sweaty and fucked-out, eyes still wide and innocent, like he’s both the sweetest roommate and the dirtiest pervert you’ve ever met.
perv!roommate jungkook who falls asleep still buried inside you, soft little smile on his face, as if ruining you was the most natural thing in the world.
Jungkook wasn’t lying. He did have the perfect apartment for you.
You were nervous when you heard knocks at your door around noon the following day. You had spent the majority of your morning packing, unable to get your mind off of Jeon Jungkook and the entire situation. A part of you told yourself that there was no way Jungkook had that much pull as a property manager. Wouldn’t his father grow suspicious if you were suddenly in another apartment?
But, you learned Jungkook was a man of his word. Upon arriving at your door, he offered a short grin your way with gleaming eyes. Memories of just a few hours earlier pass through your mind and you fight the urge flowing through your body. “Follow me.” Jungkook had said and stepped aside a bit.
Jungkook had led you towards the elevator and takes you up a few floor levels. What you always knew was the higher, the better - and the more expensive. You were growing anxious when it takes longer than you expected to reach the floor; not the top, but certainly not where you were accustomed to.
Upon the elevator doors opening, you noticed just how wide the hallway was - and lack of apartment doors. “There’s only around 5 apartments on this floor alone.” Jungkook told you - your floor had at least 10. Jungkook always has the keys to jingle in his hands as he leads you down the long hallway, each door so far apart that you’re positive that the inside is huge.
And you were right. Jungkook opens the door to the apartment - the door a mahogany color with carved wood and a gold handle - and opens to show you the apartment. Premium wasn’t the correct word, luxury was. The floor wasn’t hardwood like your current one and instead was tiled so clean that you could see your reflection as you strolled in.
“To you right,” Jungkoom states as he closes the door. He places a hand onto the low of your back. An action that shoots warmth throughout your body. “is a laundry room. Residents usually would have to buy their own washer and dryer. I got that covered for you.”
Jungkook flicks on the lights to show you the room - a large laundry room that already is stacked with a washer and dryer. The brand is expensive and you could tell by just the sight alone without the logo. There’s built-in wall shelves and cabinets for storage and the size alone of this one room is similar to your walk-in closet in your current apartment.
“I didn’t need that, Jungkook. I don’t want to waste your money…” you murmur, turning to him.
Jungkook allows a grin to form onto his lips. “It isn’t a waste if you have the money, Y/N.” he murmurs. He was reminding you just who he was. Property Manager - soon to inherit everything once his father retired. “Follow me.”
Jungkook proceeds to show you the entire apartment. High ceilings with expensive lighting fixtures. Stainless steel appliances, up to date features and space you never thought was possible - the apartment was beautiful. Far too beautiful and not what you were expecting.
“It’s already furnished, as well. So…” Jungkook turns to you. You noticed now that he had his arm around your waist as he guided you throughout the apartment. “...you could get rid of your old furniture.”
You lick your lips, your eyes glancing around the apartment. Jungkook notices your hesitance and his hand squeezes your hip. “Do you…not like it?” he questions. There isn’t any malice or annoyance in his voice.
“What?” you scoff, snapping your head to him. “No! I do!” you say, entirely too quick. How in the world would he think you - someone with no job and money - didn’t like the luxurious and fully furnished apartment. “I just…are you sure it’s okay?”
Fingers tap along your waist gently as Jungkook speaks. “Of course it’s okay.” he quips. “I wouldn’t have you in here if it wasn’t.”
“It just seems like a lot.” you sigh out. “Eventually I’d have to pay for all of this. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to afford it.”
Jungkook hums a bit. It’ll be too vulgar of him to come right out and say “as long as you keep fucking me, you’ll have a roof over your head”. Instead, he shakes his head. “We had a deal, didn’t we?” he murmurs. His hands linger onto your hips, drawing you closer to him. “You do art. I was thinking the second bedroom could be like a studio for you.”
“I…really?” you blink. You hadn’t noticed the second bedroom as he only showed you the masters - a large spacious bedroom that had its own walk-in closet and master bathroom.
“I told you that I’d be willing to buy your paintings, remember?” Jungkook allows a hand to slightly brush along your cheek and he gives you another curt wink. “You’re going to need space for all your work.”
Your eyes linger on Jungkook for a moment too long. Your lashes blink a bit as you begin to scan his face. You don’t detect any lies and your heart jolts at how…kind Jungkook was. Could you equate this with kindness? You were, technically, going to fuck him for this apartment. But, you supposed he could have kept you where you were at instead of elevating you to this.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question causes Jungkook to laugh and for your body to warm with embarrassment. You step away for a moment and Jungkook tilts his head.
“I’m not laughing at you.” Jungkook assures. “I’m laughing at how cute you are. You’re still so shy, Y/N. Even after cumming all over me just the night before.”
You bite the inside of your lip at how crude - and true - Jungkook’s words were. You glance away for a mere second before connecting your eyes back towards him. Jungkook is watching you, a tint in his eyes as he awaits for you to speak, and when you don’t, he does. “Yes. You can kiss me.” Jungkook murmurs.
Jungkook decides that even though you asked, he was going to have to be the one to make the first move. His right hand goes to cup your cheek and he lowers himself to press his nose against yours. He gently rubs his together with yours, grinning when you let out a snort.
“I’m really appreciative of the apartment.” you say with lips mere inches from Jungkooks. Your breath tickles against his lips and it takes nothing to connect both of them together. “You didn’t have to do this…I could’ve stayed in mine.”
“You could've…” Jungkook agree’s. “...but you’re better than that apartment.”
You hum, leaning closer to press your lips onto Jungkook’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss with a groan. He has been wanting to feel you on him since last time. It took everything in him to hold himself back - to wait until this moment. As much as he wanted you, he knew now - and onward - would be the perfect time.
Kissing Jungkook was hot - literally. The heat radiating off of him was like a furnace and it caused your mind to swirl. Your hands, unsure where to place them, go towards Jungkook’s broad shoulders.
“Do you need help moving your stuff in?” Jungkook asks between pecks. “Are your clothes packed?”
You exhale a bit. You didn’t care about your stuff - not now. You notice how good Jungkook smells; a surprisingly feminine scent that you ponder what cologne he wears. You didn’t want to ruin the moment by moving your stuff in when all you wanted to do was remain with Jungkook.
“Everything is packed.” you respond, a hand trailing down from Jungkook’s shoulder to his chest. You blink at him before continuing, “but I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet.”
“Thank me?” Jungkook furrows a brow, feigning ignorance. His hands go towards your hips now to bring you closer to him. You weren’t as shy as you were originally and Jungkook is appreciative of that. He finds that you’re cute when you’re shy - but he had no intentions of stopping this deal.
You nod your head. “You know what for, silly.” your fingers tap along his clothed chest, wishing to see it bare. Did Jungkook’s tattoo’s stop at his arm or did it scatter across his chest, as well? “I have to show you that I’m grateful.”
Dark eyes watch you, teeth catching his soft, thin lips. He’s anticipated continuing where you and he left off the following night. To get to taste you on his tongue once more and to listen to those cute, cute sounds you’d make.
“Yeah?” Jungkook hums, allowing you to take his hands in your and tugging him closer. Jungkook enjoys the softness in your touch, the slight hesitance, too. You were so cute, he thinks. The way you’re trying to lead yet there’s still a bit of shyness and uncertainty in your actions.
You lead Jungkook towards the large bedroom, still so astonished by how big it is just for one person. The bed doesn’t have any sheets yet, but it doesn’t bother you. You stop right beside it, turning to Jungkook who’s lips tug upwards.
“You’re so cute.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand squeezing yours a bit. He doesn’t say what he’s thinking out loud - how he feels as though he’s corrupting you a bit; exciting him to his core.
Your body warms and a part of you is slightly embarrassed by how shy you were being with him. You and he grew acquainted on less than admirable circumstances but that doesn’t mean you need to be timid around him.
You let go of his hand and instead wrap both arms around his neck. You press your lips to his, slightly humming as he deepens it immediately. There wasn’t any chance you were going back - not when you were given an opportunity to stay here rent free and do exactly what you enjoyed doing.
Jungkook’s arm fills with goosebumps when your hand trails down past his chest to his stomach then abdomen. His eyes blink away from yours to your hand - the same soft and delicate hand that now is making its way inside his pants.
Jungkook is painfully hard, you note. His cock jolts when your palm makes contact with it over his underwear. His mouth falls open slightly when your hand squeezes his cock.
“I want you to cum.” you say with a slight tilt of your head. Your free hand tugs at Jungkook’s pants so you can slide them down. “Cum…wherever you want to cum.”
Your hand makes its way inside his underwear, his cock entirely warm. You swallow, your thumb rubbing along his tip, the warm wetness of his pre-cum coating it.
“Wherever?” Jungkook moans.
You nod your head, hand pumping.
Jungkook grunts, his eyes squeezing shut. He thinks of so many different locations where he could cum - in those soft hands. Maybe you’d let him cum on your breast - but all he could truly think about was coating your beautiful face with his cum. Having the chance to mark you so intimately causes something deep inside him to flame.
Without much thought, you drop to your knees. You tug his underwear down, eyes watching the way his coc springs out with anticipation. The tip is pink and angrily leaking with even more pre-cum than before. You lick your lips a bit.
“Wherever.” you murmur, eyes flickering to him a bit. He’s watching you with such intensity, eyes unblinking. Slowly, as if teasing him, your tongue licks the tip of his cock. His cum is a bit salty, but you’re more than willing to continue.
You wanted to treat Jungkook the way he treated you, allowing you to cum all over him without anything in return. Your tongue swirls over his tip for a few moments, enjoying the sounds of his moans that only edges you on. It causes you to take the entirety of his cock into your mouth.
Jungkook’s head falls back, mouth agape. His breathing quickens, your warm mouth fully engulfing him and moist tongue sliding beneath the length of his cock. His moans, so low pitch and boyish, causes your knees to slide together and your thighs to clench.
“You’re sucking so good.” Jungkook inhales sharply at the way you suckle against his cock sloppily. Saliva trickles down the corner of your mouth and now down your chin. Your eyes are glossy and to Jungkook, you look utterly cute.
Your mouth pops Jungkook’s cock from your lip with a choked cough. Your chest heaves a bit, glossy eyes blinking up towards Jungkook.
“You,” Jungkook’s hand touches your cheek encouragingly. “look like a cock hungry whore.”
You’re sure those words would’ve offended you if said in other circumstances - and possibly if spoken by someone else. But it causes your stomach to churn in a good way and your thighs to clench closer together.
“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, eyes glancing back to Jungkook’s wet, glistening cock.
“Of course not.” Jungkook smirks. “You’re showing me you’re grateful, after all.”
Your knees against the fresh hardwood floor begin to ache a bit, but you find that you don’t move a single muscle, waiting for Jungkook to make the next move. That, or you were going to go back to throating his cock. Whichever came first.
“Just how grateful are you exactly?” Jungkook murmurs his question with a raised eyebrow. “Grateful enough for me to fuck your mouth?”
You don’t respond verbally, and instead you open your mouth wide, tongue slipping out. You wait patiently for Jungkook to slip his cock back into your mouth, and when he does he wastes no time. He ruts his hips, watching the way his cock slips in and out of your wet mouth.
Somehow being used in such a way feels amazing; so demeaning yet so…lustful. The act of Jungkook, someone you barely know but share such a deep longing and attraction for one another, springing his cock in and out of your mouth. Completely using you for his own lustful desires just as you were using him for what he could provide for you.
Jungkook groans, his grip on your head growing tighter. His eyes are pierced and focused on you and you solely. There’s tears in your eyes that’s trailing down your cheeks now, but it doesn’t appear to affect you. You were such a good whore, he thinks, good but still completely wholesome in ways that he cannot explain.
“Your mouth feels so good.”
Wet and warm your mouth was, squelching noise your throat makes as he plunges it in and out of you. The noises are so crude and slutty, his eyes never wanting to stop watching the sight that is you. You’re taking him so well, your throat closing in around him whenever his cock presents itself.
“You’re such a good little slut, Y/N. So grateful to be here that you’d let me fuck your mouth, huh?” Jungkook groans, his thumb going to rub away stray tears from your eyes.
Your throat aches and so does your jaw, but Jungkook was too hot to say no to. You're breathing through your nose as Jungkook continues to talk.
“I think I know where I wanna cum, Y/N.” Jungkook gasps, that familiar churning in his abdomen.
Removing his cock from your mouth, you cough as air flows through your lungs now. A hand wraps around the shaft and he pumps his cock right above your face, warm ropes of cum coating your face. You’re surprised by the sudden action, but you aren’t upset in the slightest about the outcome.
Jungkook’s chest heaves at the sight of your face covered in cum that drips down your face. He ponders if the action was disrespectful for you, but then slowly your mouth twitches into a low smile and he knows just how good you were for him.
“Let’s clean your face.”
Jungkook helps you stand before he tugs you towards the master bathroom. It isn’t decorated to match your personality just yet, but there’s a few towels on the counter and that was enough for now. He takes a hand towel and wets it with warm water before turning to you.
Jungkook cleaning your face was…something. He wipes your face clean of his cum before offering you a low grin.
“Do you want to move your things in now?” Jungkook asks.
“In a minute…” you shrug your shoulders. You lick your lips, glancing away for a moment.
“Oh?” Jungkook raises a brow. “What do you want to do now?”
You and Jungkook both appear utterly insatiable. Your arms wrapping around his neck and lips greedily pressing to his own while his hands grip and tug at your naked skin. Your bodies crash out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom. You pushed Jungkook towards the bed and climbed on top of him. “This is what you wanted to do?” Jungkook chuckles. “We could’ve waited until you were settled in.”
“I know but,” you’re hovering right about his already hardened cock. While in the bathroom, you assisted in Jungkook removing his clothes so he was just as bare as you. His tattoos stop right at his shoulders and his arms seemingly flex on impact. “I’m still grateful.”
Grateful and highly horny. Hearing the way Jungkook moans when you were sucking your cock was enough for you to want to fuck him now instead of later; but especially later, too.
Jungkook places a hand onto your hips while you center yourself at the tip of his cock. You slowly blink, feeling a bit foolish yet embarrassed. It’s far too late to worry about protection, isn’t it? You had his cock in your throat not too long ago.
“I…do you want to use a condom?” you ask, body warm. “I don’t do this often so I don’t have any-”
“I can pull out.” Jungkook squeezes your hips, lips twitching upward with how cute you were.
You nod your head and continue to lower yourself onto Jungkook’s cock. It stretches you out in a great way, pussy squeezing around him. You gasp when you sit fully onto Jungkook, eyes blinking a bit.
Jungkook groans deeply, nails digging into your hip. It doesn’t take long for the sound of skin slapping to echo off of the walls; now more since the room is empty. It’s met with your moans, Jungkook’s groans and your squelching pussy.
Your hands clench onto Jungkook’s shoulders for support as you continue to bounce against him. His cock springs in and out of you so heavenly, a feeling that you never want to stop.
“Your pussy is a lot wetter than I expected.” Jungkook quips, his hands roaming upwards to grip your bouncing breast, his thumb rubbing along your nipple until it’s erect. “You must be very grateful.”
Jungkook leans forward a bit to capture your nipple into his mouth, tongue twirling the bud greedily. The countless times he’s seen you, beyond your knowledge, he’s pondered just who you were. How well you were in the area. If you had any significant others or anyone you were seeing. He gets his answer time and time again as he watches you come and go without anyone in tow. He’s replayed the cameras in the hallway just at the chance to see you more often.
Jungkook doesn’t have to do that anymore - now he’ll have a front row seat.
Jungkook’s hips buckle forward to meet you halfway. His tongue trails up from your breast to your collarbones. His teeth sinks onto your skin possessively, groaning into your body.
“Your cock feels so good.” you sigh out, your back slamming against the mattress as Jungkook takes control. He places both of your legs against his chest and pounds deeply inside of you.
Sex never felt this good, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. Your pussy squeezes Jungkook’s cock, milking everything he was willing to give. Your arms are spawned out, fingers digging into the mattress for any hope of comfort.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, opening your legs so he could come closer to you. His lips are centimeters from yours as he continues to speak. “So, so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long.”
Maybe if you were paying any ounce of attention, you’d notice just how Jungkook’s words hold a deeper meaning. But, you’re far too enthralled in the way he’s fucking you that it goes through your ears but don’t linger for long.
“You can keep fucking me.” you breath, pressing your lips onto his that he immediately deepens without a care.
“I plan on it.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips.
Jungkook’s hand, wrapped firmly around his cock, continues to pump aggressively, his eyes on the camera. The sounds of your squeals pound through his headphones, his eyes unblinking. The way you take his cock only brings flashbacks of that day - and nearly everyday after that.
“Fuck,” Jungkook grumbles, thighs quivering. “I can’t wait to fuck you later, baby.” he says as if you’re listening, but of course you aren’t.
You’d never know about the cameras that are surrounding your apartment. Maybe others would say it’s an invasion of privacy, but to him it wasn’t. After all, it was his apartment that he was paying for monthly. He kept the lights on, the water and gas running. Hell, he even supplied the food you ate, much to your dismay that it was all too much.
“Shit,” Jungkook feels it coming, the high he always gets whenever he watches these videos of the two of you back. “shit, shit, shit.”
Jungkook likes to think that this is how it’s supposed to be. Him having you so close to him while you remain home. You got the chance to focus on your art now without wondering if you were going to be evicted or not - all thanks to him.
Jungkook gasps when his high erupts, cum coating the palm of his hands. His thighs continue to quiver and jolt, his head hanging back.
Jungkook’s breathing is heavy, his headphones still sounding the video on the monitor. Slowly, his hand removes his slowly softening cock. He goes to take a few napkins from his desk and wipes his hand clean. He throws away the napkins and sighs, shaking his head.
Maybe this wasn’t morally right - cumming in his office while he was supposed to be working. But he missed you. Yes, you were just a few flights away, but still. You were working and so was he, but he couldn’t go another moment without you.
Jungkook clicks off of the old video and goes towards the live feed. His eyes roam around the apartment until he spots you and a smile forms onto his lips. He zooms in on you painting, your eyes focused.
Sometimes Jungkook likes to watch you paint. You would hum to yourself at times, or you’d listen to music. He was ecstatic when he discovered that you enjoyed the playlist he made for you.
Jungkook picks up his phone and dials your number. He doesn’t bother putting it to his ear as he could hear you just fine through his headphones due to the live camera feed. He watches you put down your paint brush and answer the phone with a soft smile onto your lips. “Kook, hey!” he hears you speak over the headphones.
“Hey.” Jungkoo raises the phone to his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Painting.” you say. “I can’t wait to show you later. I’ve finally decided on what I wanted to paint exactly.”
“I can’t wait.” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes flickering to the painting you’ve already started. “Is it something you’re willing to sell?”
You snort. “I’m not sure. I never sold art before. And no I’m not selling it to you.” you quip. “You do enough for me already.”
Jungkook snickers, but he’s already knowing that you aren't going to give up. “I’m thinking about ordering lunch. You can come down and meet me in my office.” he says, leaning back into his chair. He watches as your eyebrows furrow upwards. “If you’re too busy, I can just send you something up.”
“No,” you shake your head. You begin to stand. “I’ll come down now!”
Jungkook smiles and nods his head, though you can’t see him like he can see you. “Okay, I’ll be waiting.”
That was a mistake 😭. I meant jk as a friend of oc’s elder brother. I know you already have off limits but I kinda crave a non con with manipulating shif
okay so basically a yandere version of "off limits"?? coming right up!!
twisted
jungkook has been getting you out of trouble for as long as he can remember - and he was tired of doing it without anything in return.
word count: 3.944
warning: power imbalance, smut, police officer jungkook, yandere tendencies, blackmail, dubcon/noncon, alcohol intake/intoxication, age difference, unsolicited touching/rubbing/groping, nipple sucking, fingering, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, coercion, manipulation, overstimulation, read the warnings and dont cancel me,
For as long as Jungkook has known you, you were a bit of a trouble maker.
Jungkook first met you after becoming friends with your older brother. You and him were opposites, yet close. While you would often skip classes sometimes to do God knows what, he never had. He was always on top of his priorities, graduating with honors.
You, however, did enough to get to the next level. Even if your brother didn’t approve of your way of life, he did support you in whatever you did.
In a way.
Your brother despised your friend group. They weren’t good influences on you. They often dragged you down with them - surrounding you with boys older than you that always prompted him to keep an eye out on you.
Him and his friends - Jungkook mainly. It was a full time job looking for you after you snuck out to go to parties. Prying the filthy hands of college boys off of you, all the while telling them that you were indeed under age and not even in High School. It always made you shove him away, but he wasn’t upset by it.
When Jungkook graduated alongside his friends and your brother, it made things easier on you. You could party without having them look for you because they had their own things to worry about. Your brother was in the works of being a firefighter, Jungkook a police officer.
It wasn’t until your Junior year when you ran into trouble and needed a certain police officer to get you out of trouble. Your heart was pounding and your eyes were blinded by tears when you ended up in the back of a police car and brought to the precinct.
It was Jungkook who got you out of that, assuring that you were someone he knew and it wouldn’t happen again. The officer who brought you in had dropped you into Jungkook’s care without any worries, claiming he had better things to do.
It wasn’t the last time Jungkook abused his power to get you out of trouble - or wasn’t the last time you abused Jungkook.
Traffic stops ? You gave them Jungkook’s name.
A man got too handsy? Jungkook was on speed dial and he always handled it.
Firefighters were cool - but police officers were better.
Your senior year was when you took your schooling more seriously. Only because your brother promised that you could live with him instead of your parents. He stated he could get you into a college close to his apartment with connections he knew and that was all you needed.
Jungkook had attended your graduation, late and in police gear. Sometimes he’s grateful for the shades he wears outside. He gets the chance to look at your figure as you hug your friends, only sporting the cap and not the gown. Your dress wasn’t tight, nor was it too short. It stops a few inches above your knee. It flows in the light wind, giving his covered eyes a view of your thighs beneath the dress that’s supposed to be hidden.
“Congrats.”
Jungkook removed his shades as he approached you. He offered a short smile to you, one that you return. Your mother is taking pictures, proud of the way she now has two children who're on the right track for once.
You wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck, excited for the next chapter - and possibly for more freedom that he’ll have to get you out of trouble from. Jungkook’s hands wrap around you slowly, but not too much to raise any alarms from his friend. Your breasts are against his chest and he can feel the way they rub as you hug him tightly.
The thoughts Jungkook has for you aren’t sane. They shouldn’t be there. He was older than you - not old enough to raise alarms - and he’s known you since childhood. He’s watched you grow from a child to now a woman, your body forming over time. You grew into your womanly figure, one that he oftentimes feels bad about looking at.
As time passed, Jungkook began to ponder if you were teasing him. The amount of times he has gotten a call from you to pick you and your friends up from bars, far too drunk out your minds to fully understand what was happening. The way you wrap your arms around him and have him carry you to the police cruiser. Dealing with drunk women wasn’t fun, but at least he was on the clock doing it.
Jungkook recalls the times he’d drop you off at your brother’s while he was working nights and you’d hold onto him so close. The fruity lemon drops and perfume radiating off of your skin.
You were completely comfortable with Jungkook, not seeing him as any sort of threat. Upon entering your bedroom, you’d tear your clothes off without a care. You hadn’t even bothered to see if he’s left you.
Jungkook recalls the way his mouth salivated as you plop onto your bed, eyes closing and mumbling drunkenly. You had rolled around, your panties and bra both lace and doing little to hide anything from him.
Jungkook shouldn’t have, but your skin looked so smooth and soft. His hand starts at your ankles, slowly making their way up your leg, past your knee and towards your thigh. You’re murmuring so low, not forming words with how intoxicated you were.
You were teasing him - Jungkook knows this now. Your legs move, thighs widening to give him a glimpse between your legs. He couldn’t help but just have a touch. His soft fingertips ghost past your inner thigh until he’s touching your barely clothed clit. He hums to himself as his fingertips rub ever so gently.
Jungkook knows this is wrong. You were off limits to him. This wasn’t bro code - but he couldn’t help it. Not when you presented yourself to him. A soft moan comes from your lips that tells him how much you actually enjoyed this.
So Jungkook continues. He kneels by your bed. His breathing increases, his fingers continuing to rub circles onto your clit until he feels the damp spot. You were enjoying this more than he anticipated.
It was a matter of seconds, Jungkook had forced your lacy bra down to reveal your breast. His mouth was around your nipple, suckling greedily as his fingers inched inside of you. You’re squelching, pussy squeezing around his fingers.
Jungkook understands fully that you loved this. You loved the way his fingers took you, plunging in and out of you. You couldn’t stop moaning and groaning, your back arching slightly. You were so adorable, he thinks, eyes closed because it was hard to keep them open.
Your nipple pops from Jungkook’s lips. His eyes glances from your squelching pussy to your pretty face. His lips ghost past your lips, wanting to kiss you but pondering if maybe it was too much. But, when your eyes open slowly, not focusing on anything, he decides that you want him to.
So Jungkook does. His lips pressed against yours, tasting the lemon drops you love so much right on your lips. His uniform pants are tight with how hard his cock is and he wants to plunge it right into you.
You’d let him, Jungkook thinks. You want him to.
However, Jungkook doesn’t. He loves you enough for you to be more coherent. Your stomach sinks in and out, more moans coming from your lips. Your thighs are shaking and he knows fully that your pleasure was becoming greater - greater and greater until you cum all over him.
You hadn’t remembered anything of that night - or any other night Jungkook had with you. You had continued to call him every time you needed him after a long night of partying. Like always, your brother wasn’t home and he felt more comfortable to follow you to your room.
Just as Jungkook is recalling the time, a car that is familiar to him flashes right past him. His car is parked on the side of the dark road, his lights off. He had a quota to meet.
And it appeared that today, you of all people, were going to be a part of said quota.
Jungkook turns his lights on, throws his car in drive and begins to drive down the same road. He turns his sirens on and watches the way you stop abruptly to the side.
You had to be drunk. It was 2 a.m and it made sense why you were outside. Ever since you got yourself a car - at your brother's expense - you hadn’t called him as much. But that's alright because the universe was now looking out for him.
“K-Kookie?”
Your voice cracks, your eyes softening. You thought it was someone else but of course, it was Jungkook. Again.
“Do you know how fast you were driving?” Jungkook asks. He had since turned off his body-cam.
Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. “No.” you murmur, your body warm with embarrassment.
“Have you been drinking?”
You swallow, sniffling. You take a deep breath.
“Step out the vehicle.” Jungkook takes a step back.
You flinch at Jungkook’s tone. He’s never spoken to you like a police officer before. “W-What? Why?”
You were tipsy, it’s obvious. Jungkook leaves you leaning against your car as he goes back to his cruiser to get a breathalyzer. When he returns, your eyes are sad watching him. “K-Kookie-”
“Blow.” Jungkook demands, holding out the breathalyzer.
You do, eyes looking up at him with those same sad eyes. Jungkook wants to laugh at how pathetic you looked. Your actions have consequences and finally, you were beginning to realize that.
You watch as Jungkook looks at the breathalyzer before his eyes flicker up to you. His eyes are so dark, you think, and full of disappointment. It makes you feel small underneath his gaze. In highschool, you remembered the eyebrow piercing he had that you thought was cute. In college, he added a lip piercing - one that had your friends swooning.
Your eyes trail to his uniform, now fully witnessing just how good Jungkook looked in it. It’s warm out tonight, so he’s not sporting his jacket. You always loved when he wore his sleeves up to his elbows so you can see his tattoos.
Jungkook doesn’t tell you that, though tipsy, you pass the breathalyzer. Instead, his eyes bore into yours so hard that your bottom lip quivers. He’s always gone easy on you - even while your brother wasn’t. He was there to defend you and treat you sweetly because you were just a girl
Now, however, Jungkook was tired of not getting anything in return.
“You could’ve hit someone.” Jungkook speaks. “Do you know how many drunk driving accidents kill innocents a year?”
“I’m not…” you take a deep breath in hopes to calm your beating heart. “...I’m not that drunk, Kookie, I-”
“Officer Jeon.” Jungkook corrects.
Your mouth drops slightly.
“I have the authority to arrest you right now.” Jungkook says. His heart does jolt when you begin to cry, but he doesn’t immediately go to comfort you - not now. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
The waterworks come full force now. You probably looked ridiculous now, crying like a child. But you were a bit tipsy and your heart was beating too fast. You felt dumb for thinking Jungkook was going to continue to give you a pass and take advantage of his authority.
“I-I’m sorry, Kookie!” you hiccup, immediately crashing into his chest. Your hands tug at his uniform shirt. “Please-”
Jungkook pushes you away, forcing you to turn around. Your chest presses against your car and you yelp, your tears flowing down your cheeks.
“I think I’ve created a monster in you, Y/N. These are the consequences of my own actions.”
Jungkook doesn’t add the cuffs around your wrist, but you’re crying so much that you’d think he read you your rights and told you that you were being arrested on the spot. He doesn’t laugh like he wants to.
“You use me to your advantage all the time.” Jungkook continues, holding your wrist tighter in his grasp. “I’ve allowed you to get off time and time again. And for what? You never learn your lesson.”
You sniffle, your chest rumbling with pathetic sobs. You want to wipe your tears away, but you can’t. Was Jungkook really going to arrest you? Were you going to sit in jail?
What would your brother think about you driving under the influence? You had to be drunker than you thought if Jungkook was doing this.
“I’m sorry.” you say so softly, full of regret and guilt that it causes Jungkook to almost release your wrists.
Almost.
“You know I love you, Y/N. I don’t want to do this.”
You stop sniffling when you hear Jungkook’s tone softening. Your bottle lip continues to tremble, regret flowing through you at how you managed to disappoint your closest friend. How you completely abused his love for you for your own selfish ways.
“I don’t want to put these cuffs on you and put you in the back of my cruiser,” Jungkook continues, stepping closer to you. Just the act alone frightens you - you’ve never been in the back of his cruiser before, always the front. He allowed you to turn his sirens on and off drunkenly one night and you thought it was the next best thing. “and detain you at the precinct. You’ll have a dui on your license and you won’t be able to drive…”
You blink a few tears away. Your brother and parents would kill you if that happened. You were already on thin ice with your brother and you had since promised you’d be better.
You were doing a terrible job.
“...You can do something for me, though, right?” Jungkook’s is even closer now. His knee goes between your thighs and forces them apart. Without warning, you feel him press directly against your ass.
You’re silent, unsure if this was a hallucination or not. You had to be drunker than you thought.
“I’ve let you get away with everything, Y/N, you can give me something in return. To make this go away.”
Jungkook’s breath tickles the skin on your neck, so warm. You smell the caramel on him and you know how he keeps a few of them in his cruiser to munch on during long nights.
“K-Kookie?”
Your voice is so small and startled, afraid to move. It causes Jungkook to press himself further against you, his obvious bulge twitching against your ass. His hands hold onto your wrists tighter.
“I-I can’t.”
Jungkook wants to laugh. You can’t?
You can’t?
Jungkook couldn’t stop his paroles to make sure you got home safety - but he had. He couldn’t keep risking his job to get you out of trouble every time you fucked up, but he had. But here you stand, drunk and crying and you couldn’t do anything for him?
You were selfish.
“I’m s-seeing someone and I-”
Jungkook decides that he doesn’t care. One hand swiftly snatches your dress and pulls it up. “You’re so selfish, Y/N, after everything I do for you.” he spits, his soft tone gone and now replaced with a much harsher tone. “Who are you seeing? What’s his name?”
You gasp when Jungkook’s hand slides past the thong you’re wearing, fingers hooking beneath it. He snaps it angrily - you were dressed so sluttish for him but claiming to be seeing someone. It didn’t make an ounce of sense.
Jungkook doesn’t care who the boy is, but he makes sure to remember his name once you utter it - in case he came across him one day. His greedy fingers slide past your clit, rubbing small circles on it.
“Kook-”
“You’re going to do what I say, Y/N, or I’m going to arrest you.”
Your eyes widen at how harsh Jungkook speaks. Your thighs want to close, but his knee is blocking it.
“You love me, don’t you? I’ve protected you for years, Y/N. It’s the least you can do.”
You’re so wet, Jungkook thinks, this excites you just as much as it excites him. The act of doing this late into the night, no one around, but completely in the open. He knows that not many cars come down this road, if any at all - but still, the sheer possibility of someone coming and witnessing him fuck you is highly exciting.
“I’m doing this because I love you, Y/N. I want you to be better.” Jungkook’s tongue is invasive, licking the rim of your ear. “And I know you want this, too. You’re so wet.”
You’re entirely stiff, afraid to move or do anything. Your thighs shake slowly with the feelings of his fingers upon you. He rubs, speed increasing by the second. Your throbbing clit excites him just as much as your wetness.
Your eyes are wide, your tears slowly drying up and you’re left shocked. The night is so quiet, nothing but the police cruiser engine is heard. There aren't any stars in the sky, nor is the moon shining.
Jungkook’s fingers ease closer to your tight hole, groaning. He wonders if you were ever this wet for someone else like you were for him. If you remembered or not, he does recall just how soaked you were that night in your bedroom. The way your thighs opened wider for him to pleasure you more, your lips parting to form such tired moans.
“Are you afraid?” Jungkook murmurs, inching his fingers inside of you. The way you squeeze around him is so familiar. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Y/N, you know I’ll never hurt you.”
You release a soft sob, heart pounding through your ears. If you were asked this question any other time, you’d respond truthfully; how could you be afraid of someone that’s always made you feel safe. Yet here you two are, in the middle of the night, completely alone. He was like a wolf and you were the lamb, completely vulnerable.
“I love you, Y/N, you know that, right?” Jungkook begins to pump his fingers in you, his body shivering with just how tight and wet you are - so inviting to him that he knows you’re enjoying this more than you’re willing to admit.
“Kook…” you murmur, nearly inaudible. “p-please stop…”
This upsets Jungkook. His fingers indeed stop pumping for a moment to process your words. He closes his eyes for a moment, his anger slowly rising.
You aren’t allowed any time to process. Jungkook was trying to be nice to you because he loved you. He had enough respect for you as his best friend's sister - so much so that he wasn’t going to arrest you for driving under the influence.
But now you were just being selfish and he hated selfish individuals.
Jungkook removes his fingers from you and for a moment, you think it’s all over. Your heart swells and you’re ready to put this all behind you.
Then, you feel cold metal around your wrists. Jungkook cuffs you, both of your wrists bound behind your back. Your chest is still against your car and you’re ready to cry out once more. “Kook-”
You yelp when you feel Jungkook’s bare cock rub between your folds now. His left hand grips your hips to keep you right in place. Your breath hitches when you feel him at your hole, your body warm with intrusive embarrassment.
Jungkook loved you enough to not be rough with you, but you did this to yourself. It was a privilege to get off easy time and time again, and he wants you to know that.
Jungkook’s thrusts are punishing, pumping in and out of you without any mercy. The street lights are dim and yellow, but it does you the right amount of justice. He witnesses the way your pussy glistens with arousal from the cock you pretend not to enjoy.
Your eyes are fluttering in an attempt to stay open, your mouth wide open in shock, gasping breaths released every second due to his cock plunging in and out of you.
“I didn’t want to do this, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, his hands grasping your cuff wrists. He pulls you back as his hips rut, cock springing in and out of your warm pussy. “But you left me no choice. Isn’t this the least you could do for me?”
You feel as if your body is betraying you in the way your legs shake with pleasure that you didn’t ask for. Your mind screams at you to react, but you don’t. Not in the way you should, at least. This was Jungkook and you trusted him with your life and the naive part of you believed that even now, he couldn’t truly hurt you.
Right?
“Y-Yes,” you moan, unsure of what else to do or say. You were completely and utterly vulnerable.
You’re squeezing around his cock so tight that Jungkook is positive you love the way his cock feels. He leans forward to press a tender kiss against your neck. One so soft that it goes against his harsh words and punishing hips.
You’re cumming before you know it, arousal leaking down your thighs. Jungkook’s cock hitting your g-spot over and over again. You couldn’t contain the moans any longer as it was becoming too much.
Your mind is blank and you’re sure when this was all over, you were going to reflect on it and blame yourself for being in this situation to begin with.
“You came all over yourself, Y/N, I knew you’d love it.” Jungkook chuckles darkly from behind you, sloppy thrusts slamming you against your car. “It’s my turn,” he grunts.
Jungkook’s pounding doesn’t stop until he’s cumming right inside of you, twitching when he does so. It takes a moment for him to pull out of you and regain his breath, but when he does he makes sure to make himself presentable. He pulls your dress down after pulling your panties back up.
The cuffs are off of you within a matter of seconds and Jungkook turns you around to face him. He has to look in your eyes to see if you despise him, an action he hope isn’t true, but he would understand if it was. Jungkook places a gentle hand behind your head when your eyes meet his, so sad and full of despair.
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in his chest. He’s rubbing your back so soothingly that you find comfort in his embrace, your mind confused in what is happening and how he could change so fast. “you aren’t in any trouble.”
Jungkook holds you like that until he feels your heart beat against his soften. He leans away, offering you a soft and kind smile that he didn’t display when he pulled you over. You swallow, licking your chapped lips.
“Let me take you home.” Jungkook murmurs. A hand places itself onto your cheek and his thumb rubs across the tear stains. “We’ll come get your car tomorrow, okay?”
You don’t fight Jungkook as he tugs you towards his police cruiser. He opens the passenger door and allows you in before closing it. He gets into his side and gives you another glance. He takes his job seriously - especially when it comes to you. It was always his responsibility to protect you.
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. Such a long time ago, 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.
the world of flashing lights, screaming people and new projects and jobs are all new to you - luckily jungkook is right by your side for every step of it.
“What do you think the blogs would say about us?” Jungkook jokes, a soft smile on his thin lips. He glances away from the obvious pap with a camera and eyes you.
“Nothing too bad I hope.” you laugh.
You don’t want to follow Jungkook’s eyes and catch the cameraman - or several - all pointing and snapping pictures at the two of you. They were mainly here for Jungkook, of course, as you were still a fresh face.
Jungkook had asked you to go to lunch today. Shooting didn’t start until later on so it was easier to agree. Months of shooting the movie, it was easier to say that Jungkook and you were growing closer as co-workers.
Friends?
Could you say Jungkook and you were friends? Everytime you think about how you and he slept together - for the sake of the movie, of course - it makes your body hot. But damn did it also make the scenes easier when you had to pretend to moan a certain way. Jungkook had told you to just remember how good you felt for him that night and to pretend that it was all real now.
“What could they say?”
Jungkook smiles at the server as she drops two plates on either side of you. You only got a salad while Jungkook opted for a steak.
“They’ll probably be dating rumors.” Jungkook speaks again. He’s cutting into his steak, his eyes watching it intently.
“Really?” you murmur. Your eyes glances out the window to see if there’s anyone you notice snapping pictures, your nerves flowing.
“Don’t look so scared.” Jungkook laughs, sinking his teeth into the steak. His eyes are now watching you closely, taking in your soft features. “Besides, it’ll be good press.”
You knit your brows. “Good press?”
Jungkook nods. You aren’t accustomed to this lifestyle and still - months in - he finds it cute. “We’re going to have to promote the movie before and during its release.” he explains just as you begin to pour the cup of dressing onto your salad.
“You’re right.” you snort at yourself. This was a big movie and that meant promotion. The movies you’ve acted in before didn’t require that in the slightest. “I’ve never had to do that before. Do we just…talk about the movie?”
Jungkook nods his head. “Yes. We say enough without disclosing too much until after it’s released. But…” he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows. It causes you to giggle a bit, lifting the salad to your mouth and munching. “....it’d be a better promotion if people assume we’re a couple.”
You hum, tilting your head. You suppose he was correct. If people thought Jungkook and you were a couple, it would get even more eyes on the movie. It would get people pondering about you and him - especially you as the upcoming actress alongside such a powerful face.
“Until they see the movie and witness just how toxic everything is.” you joke a bit.
Jungkook takes another bite of his steak. “People love toxic.” he shrugs one shoulder. “Some people are going to find it hot. Find us hot.”
Your body warms once more with how Jungkook says it. The way his eyes are staring right through you is an added bonus, reminding you of just how well he’s gotten to know you in such a short amount of time.
“We have to give the people what they want, right?” Jungkook raises one brow, awaiting your response.
You’re silent at first, unsure of what to do or say. Then, you nod your head. It was obvious that Jungkook wanted you to - and wanted for the two of you to go through with what he suggested. He was the one with the experience, after all.
As for Jungkook, he offers a warm smile. His eyes sparkle a bit as he watches you, knowing full and well that the camera outside the restaurant was going to capture this genuine moment between the two of you. He holds out his right hand for you to take and slowly, you do, a bit uncertain.
“You,” Jungkook begins, his thumb rubbing along the top of your hand. “are going to be a star, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.”
Your cheeks are warm and you nod your head. It was as if you were in a trance, fully captivated by the performance that Jungkook was putting on - if this was even a performance in his eyes or not.
“So tell us, how do the two of your characters meet in the movie?” the interviewer asks, dancing her eyes between you and Jungkook. “I’ve seen the trailer of it and it’s…” she shakes her head, a smile forming on her lips that shows a tint of mischief. “...hot to say the least.”
“And toxic.” Jungkook chuckles, turning his head to the left to glance your way.
Your eyes catch his and you return his smile. “Sooo toxic.” you agree, a short laugh passing your lips immediately after. “When the trailer released, I wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback on a horror-like movie. But this is also my first big movie I did, so it’s all surreal.”
The camera man is sure to capture the looks between you and Jungkook, the way his smile would brighten when you’d look his way.
“But, our characters meet in a club in which I’m a bartender.” you explain. You’re seated so close to Jungkook that your shoulder brushes his.
“Strip club.” the interview nods, raising her brows.
“Yes,” you chuckle, nodding your head. “a strip club. We filmed in an actual club downtown where I was shown how to serve the drinks and all.”
Jungkook watches the way you explain, moving your hands to explain further. His mind wanders to the club scene, recalling the way you were dressed for said scene. He licks his lips, his mind flashing to the leather you wore. Backless halter top with matching tight leather pants that looked entirely too appealing on you.
“And my character pays for a lapdance from her. In the movie, it’s a big deal since she’s not a dancer, but a bartender.” Jungkook explains, glancing at the interviewer. “It’s, of course, supposed to show that my character was someone with power and money. Especially if he paid for her the entire night.”
There was another look shared between you and Jungkook. Once more, you both laugh sheepishly, recalling the many times you had to give him a lap dance simply because you or him were messing up.
“In the movie, he came with his friends but he was the birthday boy.” you say, knocking your shoulder into Jungkook’s playfully. “When you watch the movie, it really shows how complex his character is.”
The interviewer raises her eyebrows. “How so?”
“At first, he’s…shy. Nervous even.” Jungkook answers. “And each time he comes back to the bar, he’s more confident. He doesn’t show who he really is until later on into the movie.”
“I guess that’s what makes it a thriller.” the interviewer wiggles her eyebrows. “What were your favorite scenes you did together?”
The camera captures you and Jungkook glance at one another again, both of you putting on an amazing show of chemistry. Ever since shooting wrapped up and now, the trailer dropping, you and Jungkook were all anyone could talk about. You had people who shipped you two together, coming up with couple names already while others made up their own synopsis of what the movie would be about with what little they were given.
With Jungkook, it was never truly a dull moment. Even during photoshoots, he and you had fun. Witnessing him become the Jungkook you know - funny, sweet and caring, to the character was amazing. He knew how to turn it on and off and even during photoshoots, he showed it. The movie poster behind you and him now captures the possessiveness his character has over yours. His arms wrapped around you, eyes staring right at you while yours were instructed to look towards the camera. The movie title is displayed right about you, yet seems to fade off a bit to solely focus on you and him.
“Mine would have to be…” you trail off, thinking for a moment. “...when he finally shows his true colors, I suppose. He becomes possessive entirely until it’s too unbearable for her to handle.”
You turn to face Jungkook, cheeks warming when he’s already looking your way.
“My favorite would have to be a much more…intimate scene.” Jungkook states. “It comes right after we had an argument and my character charms her a bit. He’s been acting crazy and obsessive but he has a way with words.”
Your smile falls a bit as you recall the exact scene Jungkook’s referencing. Your whole body feels warm now and you shift in your seat at being reminded of it.
The intimate scene itself wasn’t what caused you to shift. You and he had done much more uncomfortable scenes for a movie such as this. No, it was how ashamed you felt at doing something like that with Jungkook.
Jungkook didn’t see a problem with it. The scene caused for you and hilton beneath the covers anyways. The director, a few crew and an intimacy coach were there and you’ve done exactly what you were supposed to do. Like the intimacy coach said, intimate moments were usually acts of camera play anyways.
Yet Jungkook fingering you in front of the unknowing crew wasn’t a part of the schedule. His lips on yours to silent your protest as his fingers forced their way through your shorts and into your panties. It’s what the script called for, right? Why pretend to do it if he could do it for real and capture your actual moans and groans - all without anyone knowing what’s going on.
The adrenaline going through Jungkook as he pumps his invasive fingers in and out of you is insane to him. His lips kiss down your neck, soft voice telling you that “everything is okay” and to just “go along with it”.
Your mind had gone blank and you didn’t know what to do yourself. You didn’t want to ruin the scene or make Jungkook out to be a creep. So you helplessly laid there, widening your thighs as Jungkook’s fingers pound in you, his palm rubbing against your wet clit. He leans away a bit to look in your fluttering eyes, a smug look on his face at the genuine pleasure on your face. Even if it wasn’t in the script, he places his lips against yours possessively. He moans during the kiss, your lips one of his favorite tastes.
And even as it was over by you, embarrassingly, cumming all over Jungkook’s hands, the director yells cut and even compliments the both of you. “It felt so raw and real.” he stated - how right he was.
You blink a few times when you feel Jungkook’s hand on your knee, squeezing it a bit.
“Yeah.” you smile a bit, awkwardly. “I remember that scene, too.”
“Y/N, tell me,” the interview leans forward a bit. “you’re the new star. You’re the talk of the internet now.” she starts. “How was it working side by side with the infamous Jeon Jungkook?”
You lick your lips. “It was hard at first. I was new to this.” you explain. “But…Jungkook made it easier for me. We got to know one another and it made things more relaxed on set. I would say he’s become a very close friend to me.”
Jungkook simpers your way, his eyes twinkling a bit at your words. His heart does a small jolt at your praises, finding that he enjoys your praises and compliments - even if he hears them from everyone constantly.
Almost overnight, you are a star. Your name is everywhere - news articles, social media posts. Your name is screamed alongside Jungkook’s during red carpet events - events you and he both attend. While Jungkook admired how beautiful you looked while alone during your pictures, he adored holding the small of your back as it was time for you and him to take pictures together. He went as far as stating that for all events and press tours, you and he should coordinate outfits - for the movie, of course.
The movie was a success, skyrocketing your career alongside Jungkook’s. Witnessing billboards advertising your movie - a movie that actually made theaters and wasn’t a cheap made-for-tv movie - left you in awe.
And it didn’t stop there.
People actually liked you and Jungkook together. You were told to ignore hate tweets, but those were minimal compared to the ones you’ve received that enjoyed watching the movie - even if it was a disturbing one.
The people loving you and Jungkook together meant that you were supposed to give them what they wanted - what Jungkook wanted. “Stand a little closer to me.” he’d murmur to you, flashing lights nearly blinding you. Jungkook told you to try to not look directly into them, but past them - you didn’t get the hang of it just yet. “We should be seen more often in public.” Jungkook suggested, going as far as holding your hand and oftentimes, pressing his lips to the back of it.
You were far too shy to ask Jungkook why you and he continued going on like this. You danced around the question whenever asked about your relationship with the established man, you’d laugh nervously and just say you and he were just friends.
Even with the amount of pictures and videos of you and Jungkook at red carpet events, his hands on your waist and you so close to his side. But you had to! The crowded spaces of red carpets and microphones being shoved in your face was overwhelming - and Jungkook knew just how to react each and every time.
Jungkook enjoyed your perfume, especially when it was left on his suit at the end of the night. What he enjoyed more than your perfume on his suit, was having you in his bed at night.
Jungkook, however, wasn’t shy to speak about you. Whenever asked, his smile would brighten, as would his eyes. He could steer his interview away from him and talk about you for as long as they’d let him - “Y/N’s such a natural behind the camera,” he’d say. “It’s because of her performance that the director is thinking of a sequel,”
“I actually love Y/N very much,” your eyes widen as you listen to the interview, headphones over your ears. Your heart pumps loudly in your chest, your hands growing sweaty. “we’ve been dating for quite some time now…” he trails off with a laugh, a pink tint to his cheeks.
You tear the headphones from your ears and throw them aside. Your body is warm by his words, having been sent the interview countless times. Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing the entire time that you’ve silenced your phone.
“You aren’t upset with me are you?” Jungkook asked when he arrives to your penthouse - it was a gift from him after you landed a modelling deal. He told you the cost was pocket change when you expressed concerns. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has his own suite just on the other side of the building - not yet at least. “I thought you knew I loved you, Y/N, how could you not?”
You could never stay mad with Jungkook, especially not when he wraps you in a warm embrace. He always smells so clean - like soap, oddly enough.
Jungkook’s lips are already on your neck, kissing down the soft skin as you shudder. “I want people to know you’re mine.” he murmurs against you, hands possessively pulling you close. “Want to show the world just how much I love and adore you.” he states.
You’re naked in a matter of seconds. You could never stay mad at Jungkook for long. A part of you believes that without Jungkook, you would be nowhere. You wouldn’t be feating upon fine dining meals with him, and instead would be eating the same take-out chinese in your much smaller apartment booking shitty horror movie gigs.
Jungkook had done what he promised you. He had made you a star. People knew your name. They actually liked you and your performance - there was going to be a sequel set to start filming at the end of the year and you had Jungkook to thank for that; for believing in you.
Jungkook’s lips kiss down your stomach, forcing your legs apart. Your back is against your silk sheets, the coolness of them adding goosebumps to your warm skin. His hands are soft, only a bit callused as they slide down your naked body and rest on your thighs.
“You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re my little shining star.” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. He doesn’t like to waste time, even if he does adore worshipping your body.
Jungkook’s tongue, ever so slowly, teases your clit. He’s shuddering with excitement at your moans, finding them far too enticing. Far too enticing that he shoves his tongue deeper against your wet cunt.
Your hand tangles into Jungkook’s hair, lightly tugging to keep him in place. Your eyes watch the way his head bobs back and forth, devouring your pussy like his finest meal. He’s moaning against it, lapping his warm tongue against your clit over and over again. Suckling sounds are growing louder and louder, fingernails digging into your inner thigh to assure you don’t attempt to move in the slightest.
“Feels s-so good.” you whimper, grinding your hips a bit against his tongue, allowing yet another moan from parted lips.
Eyes flicker up to look at you, clouded in darkened lust. He continues to suckle and lick, never coming up for a breath until your legs are shaking, back arching and you’re moaning so loud that it dances off the high ceilings. The scene is so beautiful, he thinks. The floor to ceiling-high windows display the city lights, but your penthouse is so high that you never close your curtains.
Your thighs close in, caging Jungkook between your legs. You’re greedily grinding against his tongue, your stomach churning and sinking in. Jungkook doesn’t go to stop you - he doesn’t mind the way your thighs are squeezing his head. Instead, he allows you to grind against his tongue until you’re cumming.
You’re whining, eyes squeezed shut. He knows you’re going to cum, so his fingers curling inside of your already greedy cunt was just the icing on the cake. You’re babbling Jungkook’s name over and over again, voice growing higher and higher. Your pussy is soaking his lips and chin entirely and eventually, you’re cumming all over him.
“You’re so beautiful, baby, and all mine.” Jungkook grunts, removing himself from your glistening clit. “Mine, mine, mine.”
Your chest rises and falls, your pussy clenching and unclenching.
“Say it.” Jungkook demands. He starts with his shirt first, removing it from his body and discarding it. “Say that you’re mine.” he continues. He goes to his pants next, tearing them off along with his underwear. His cock is throbbing to be deep in your warm cunt.
“I’m yours.” you murmur, glading wrapping your arms around Jungkook as he hovers above you. Your hands roam his bare chest, to his shoulders then down his biceps. “I’m yours.” you repeat, fluttering your lashes innocently like you do.
Damn right you were, Jungkook thinks.
Jungkook doesn’t care about wearing a condom, but you’re also adamant on being on birth control. You just became a big star, getting pregnant wasn’t something that’s going to ruin that.
Jungkook’s cock is shoved right into you, your walls immediately tightening around him. He doesn’t hesitate to press your legs over his shoulder, gripping your thigh as he begins to pump his cock in and out of you. The way Jungkook stretches you is intoxicating, his cock ruining your pussy with how rough he is - but you’ve never complained.
Jungkook knows he’s a great fucker - he’s been told countless times. But with you, it’s different. He cares about your pleasure. He wants you shaking with bliss with how well his cock fucks you, witnessing your arousal coating his cock and thighs.
“My little star,” Jungkook coo’s, your face drawn in such gratification. Your hands squeeze his bicep in an attempt to slow him down, but he wasn’t going to. “you’re so beautiful on my cock, baby. All mine.”
Jungkook’s speed quickens, his skin slapping harshly against yours and it echoes off the high ceilings. It was beginning to rain, the droplets slamming against the window. His cock is pounding so deep and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
“Your cock feels so good!” you gasp. Your hand squeezes his tattoo bicep for support, his tip reaching your g-spot each and every time.
“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. Your velvety walls entice him, sinking him deeper and deeper into you. He’s positive your thighs would have fingernail marks just as his biceps would have from yours, but of course neither of you care. “My shining star looks so pretty right now. You were upset because I told everyone I loved you, huh?”
Your cheeks are warm at the “love” word, but your heart is pounding. It all feels surreal - to be loved by someone like him. You were waiting to wake up one day and be back in your small apartment and for all of this to be a dream.
“N-No,” you cry, shaking your head a bit. “I love you, too.”
You’re unaware just how easily the two of you throw around the word love. Your love is from a mentee to a mentor, your admiration for Jungkook high. You never wanted to disappoint him and you prayed often that his own likeness for you wouldn’t fade.
Jungkook’s love for you is that of obsession, now - possession. He found you, a diamond in the rough, and gave you the opportunity of a lifetime. He molded you into the perfect star that you are now, beloved by the people and soon, you’d be at the top of the world.
All because of him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his eyes squinting into slits. “your pussy is amazing, my little star. All for me and me only.”
Jungkook forces your legs away and up against your shoulders. The new position causes you to yelp with how deep he is. He grinds his cock into you, watching your eyes widen and your lips fall apart.
“My pussy to fuck any time I want, right?” Jungkook growls, your bouncing breast enticing him. Fuck, did you feel good around him.
“Slow…slow down, Kook-”
“No,” Jungkook hisses. If anything, he goes harder.
You cry for Jungkook to slow down, but the way you were squeezing around him indicates that you don’t want him to. You’re milking his cock right now, leaking all over your bed that he’s paid for like a little whore. Your eyes water, becoming glossier as overstimulation hits you.
“My pussy to fuck as hard as I want, too. You belong to me, my little star. Everything when it comes to you is mine.”
You were so silly, Jungkook thinks, begging him to slow down but you’re cumming all over him. Sticky juices coating his abdomen as you lay limp against your bed, twitching legs - but Jungkook wasn’t done yet, not until he was cumming.
Your eyes are fluttering, moans a hushed whimper now as his cock pounds in and out of you sloppily, curses and grunts releasing from your lips until you feel him cum inside of you.
“You’re…firing me?”
You remain silent, eyes casting away as your agent looks between you and Jungkook.
“Y/N doesn’t need your services anymore.” Jungkook speaks up. You and he are seated in the diner and all you’re drinking is a latte at the moment. You were too nervous and you know you won’t be able to hold anything down.
Your agent scoffs. She licks her lips for a moment, glaring her eyes to you.
“Say something, Y/N.” she demands. “If you’re firing me, don’t have your boyfriend do it.” she scoffs with a bitter laugh.
Your body is warm with embarrassment and nerves. You didn’t want to look at her and see the look in her eyes of now being without a job. Your heart is pounding, your palms growing sweaty.
“You’re pathetic.” she groans.
“Watch your mouth.” Jungkook pipes in, his voice dangerously low.
The diner is nearly empty, only occupied with older people who always minded their business - one of the main reasons why Jungkook loved coming here with you. That, and the banana pancakes were the best in town.
“Fuck the both of you.” your now ex-agent spats, slamming her hands against the table. You are seated in the far back of the diner and no heads turn. “You think just because you’re an actress now that got your big break that you’re on top?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to be here right now. This wasn’t even your idea, you think, it was Jungkook. He was the one that suggested that he be your agent and manager as he was an actor and he understood the in’s and out’s of the entertainment industry. He could negotiate you for bigger and better deals and movie contracts that suited you the best - not some agent who wasn’t known at all.
“I said,” Jungkook hisses, leaning against the table. “watch your fucking mouth.” he says through gritted teeth. His hand reaches out and two fingers poke against her forehead roughly and rather disrespectfully. “I was nice enough to give you another client. Don’t piss me off.”
“Jungkook,” you murmur, finally glancing up. “Stop-”
“Fuck you.” your ex-agent repeats. She stands and shakes her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Y/N.”
You weren’t sure you did.
Everything went through Jungkook first before you. With Jungkook managing you, that meant that the opportunities were endless. You were an ambassador for popular and well-known brands. You got to wear - and keep - clothing from high end brands. You stared in tv-shows and commercials and got movie deals alongside actors you’ve never thought you’d be in the same room as - all like Jungkook.
But Jungkook wasn’t just your agent and manager, but your boyfriend. He reads the things people say about you online - the good, the bad and the perverted. There were accounts that said such disgusting things about you - what they wanted to do to you.
And your toes.
Jungkook had managed to get the site taken down, but that wasn’t the end of it. You received fanmail and gifts and he only ever kept those that were from girls, but it was hard.
“The script needs to be changed.” Jungkook scoffs, slamming the book down against the coffee table.
“What’s wrong with it?” the director asks with raised eyebrows. “Y/N is the lead. Our final girl.”
“And that’s amazing.” Jungkook shrugs. Jungkook had told them prior that if they wanted you in this movie, that you had to be the final girl. He wouldn’t allow you to play a useless character - you were his shining star and stars don’t die in movies. “But there’s a sex scene.”
The director scoffs. “Yea.” he says slowly. “This is a horror movie. Sex sells in horror.” he says. “There’s sex scenes in the movie you two did together.”
Jungkook tilts his head, unamused. There was a reason why he doesn’t care about the sex scene you and he did in his movie - and the director knows that.
“If you want Y/N in your movie,” Jungkook begins. “change. The. Scene.” he says slowly. “Or she’s going somewhere else.”
The scene was changed and at every shoot you were supposed to be on, Jungkook was there. He loves seeing you act - you were a natural. He adored driving down and seeing you on billboards or against buildings.
Jungkook does this to keep an eye on you, of course. He trusts you, but not whatever men that were on set.
It was even better when Jungkook and you walked together, side by side and arm in arm. You and him were the hottest couple the entertainment industry had. Jungkook made it his mission to support all your projects, supporting them during interviews and events, showing how supportive he was of you and your growing career.
You’re so busy with this new success that you don’t even notice your ex-agent never working in the industry again. Wherever she tries to tell her story of how horrible Jungkook treated her, her accounts would just get banned or people would refuse to believe it. She isn’t allowed in any event near you or him and is escorted out by security upon arrival.
You also don’t notice how everyone steer clears from you at times. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of Jungkook.
You haven’t heard the way he berated your co-star, not an unknown actress, but nowhere near his level, when she had accidently got in front of your shot during a scene.
You weren’t present when he threatened to make sure the director didn’t work in this industry again if he didn’t give you better clothing and lighting - his shining star deserved everything money could buy. After all, he was funding all of this.
You don’t - until you do.
You’ve never seen Jungkook so angry. The way he yells at the stylist for daring to dress you in clothes that aren't appealing. How she had cried before apologizing, rolling the rack of clothes out of your room. Your eyes have widened at Jungkook and he shakes his head. “It’s hard to get good help.”
“That was uncalled for.” you murmur. You turn your head to face him. He’s holding a small glass of dark liquor and he scoffs.
“Do you think I’d allow them to dress you in undeserving clothing, Y/N?” Jungkook licks his lips. “You deserve better.”
“You made her cry.” you cross your arms. “She’s just doing her job, Kook.”
Jungkook brings the glass to his lips again, dark eyes watching you as he takes another swig of it. “I’m doing my job, too.” he murmurs, licking his lips. “As your agent, manager and boyfriend.”
Your shoulders relax for a moment. You didn’t like when Jungkook was mean to people, especially at your expense. However, a side of you knew that he was doing this for your sake.
“I know.” you murmur, sighing. You drop your arms. “Still, go easy on them.”
Jungkook nods his head, but he knows more than anyone that he wasn’t going to go easy. Never when it came to you.
Whatever drama behind the scenes with Jeon Jungkook never made its way to the public. Whoever went against his orders were fired and blackballed - actors, crew, writers and directors. He had far too much pull in this industry that whatever happened behind closed doors would never see the light.
Jungkook loves you, however. You were his shining star, after all. He adored you with every fiber of his being. It’s why he finds himself now, on one knee with the largest diamond ring you’ve ever seen in your life. The crowd is screaming and the lights are flashing even faster now. At first you’re confused, until you hear everyone screaming “say yes”.
Your head turns to Jungkook and your eyes widen. Your heart is pumping so loudly in your ears that you find it hard to breathe. Your palms grow sweaty, nervousness building up. You were on the red carpet for a new movie - not a proposal.
Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you continue to look at him, a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It causes you to blink a few times before smiling widely. “...Y-Yes!” you squeal.
Jungkook slides the sparkling ring onto your finger and gets on your feet. He wraps you in his arms, kissing your forehead.
Jungkook senses your hesitance, the scared yet slightly upset look in your eyes - maybe because this was your moment that he had made about the two of you. Yet he does what he does because he loves you - you’re his shining star. He had molded you from the unknown actress in shitty movies, to a star whose light hadn’t faded all in under two years. He’s made you the top model, actress and ambassador - the least you could do was show him more appreciation for his hard word and investment.
After all, you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s wrath. He could show you another side of him that you wouldn’t love in the slightest.
