talktothesun @talktothesun - Tumblr Blog

streamer jungkook x streamer y/n

disgustingly obsessive, smutty, yearning - based on this drabble

shout out to my baby @binniebb for the pretty banner, isn’t it perfect 🥹

—

you lived a simple, happy life.

it hadn’t always been like this. growing up in an abusive household meant fists and insults were thrown quicker than sweet assurances ever were. things were different now, though. you didn’t have to wear long sleeve t-shirts just to hide bruises or cry into your pillow every night - you had your own money, your own place with your best friend and a job you loved waking up for.

you worked in your local bakery during the day, something you excitedly woke up for. but at night? you streamed.

cosy games ranging from animal crossing to stardew valley, you would giggle away to your community of 500 followers, and despite only 10-15 people joining per live, you felt a real personal connection. you didn’t do it for the money, but the love you were consistently shown by the people around you.

there was nothing you looked forward to more. you’d excitedly log in at 7pm each evening in your cute little outfits, pink of course. frills and bows occupied your space, your matching baby pink keyboard and mouse neatly arranged on your desk, your headset adorned with the cutest pair of bunny ears.

everything about you screamed warmth, so sweet you were toothache-inducing. little did you know you had grown an admirer within your small fanbase.

you knew most of them by name, especially your regulars but it was user jjk7 that had your heart beating out of your chest most days. your chat would be littered with compliments, from your blushed cheeks to how pretty your eyes looked under the warm glow of your ring light - often mixed in with detailed comments of the game you were playing, making you feel seen.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

neighbours, lovesick & infatuation.

jungkook x y/n

had you explained your current situation to anyone in your life, they would surely call you insane. they would ask you to move out or even call the police. they would question both your sanity and actions, muddle your feelings for illness whilst labelling you as crazy. instead, you sat and you stared. stared back at the man who lived in the apartment building opposite your own, who would sit quietly in his bedroom chair openly observing you.

you couldn’t tell anyone else, not really, because you too were at fault. you would sit, on your bed, sometimes pretending not to notice and other times giving him a show. a dance between two complete and utter strangers, not a single word discussed.

two individuals enamoured by one another. observing, with land, air and glass separating them; so why did he feel so familiar? why did your mind race at the thought of evening come, knowing your carefully planned routine would begin? brain hazy and eyes lidded, you’d come home to watch the tattooed boy across the street and he too, would do the same.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

arranged husband jungkook x wife y/n

<5k

suggestive

—

arranged marriages to most were a concept that felt both foreign and misplaced - something straight out of a film, or imaginative story rooted in fantasy. for you, however, the daughter of one of the leading businessmen in the country, it was reality.

jeon jungkook. that was your groom’s name, a man you had met in passing at events, and as attractive as he was, you unfortunately hadn’t the faintest clue of his character nor his personality. it meant nothing when he too was the heir to a rivalling company, one that had been at odds with your father for two decades. in the spirit of new beginnings, it had been decreed that you two were to be wed in early spring, marking a new era for both families.

you agreed, out of obligation and duty, jungkook doing the same. neither of you had much autonomy, not even being allowed to sit next to one another privately before the wedding as you were both thrown into the world of planning, and organising. that meant after the wedding was done, rings planted firmly on fingers and the doors to your new lavish home closed; neither of you knew what to say.

and so began the current six months of married life.

neither of you spoke to one another with the exception of a polite good morning and good night, passing one another by where you honestly tried to make each other as comfortable as possible. well, as comfortable as one could get when they were essentially living with a stranger.

you slept in separate rooms, both beside one another, with your beds sharing the same wall, a fact you had realised one night as he came home extremely late, entirely exhausted from a work day of hell. you often secretly waited up so you could sleep at the same time, the routine offering some semblance of comfort to you, despite it being silly.

there were some things you’d do together, albeit they weren’t done traditionally. breakfast, and often times dinners were had together on the dining table. neither of you would converse, with your eyes on your plate - it was lost on you that he typically spent that time observing you, making a note of what you liked and what you didn’t so he could properly notify your shared chef.

you were living disconnected lives in a shared home, a fact that unbeknownst to you settled in his stomach uncomfortably every time he’d sneak a glance at you during said meals. jungkook was a man that showed up for you in ways that didn’t quite make sense in your head, as he’d take your car to have it serviced, make sure your housekeeper kept your favourite snacks stocked and most importantly?

told your overbearing parents to shut the fuck up.

they had always been too much, caring little if something made you happy or sad as long as it was good for them and their business, their legacy as they liked to put it. the conversation of children was brought up two months ago, with your father almost buzzing with annoyance at the thought of bringing it up to you. when he had shared his plans, jungkook had immediately told him he had no place in making decisions like that in your marriage, doing good to remind him of the nature of the union in the first place.

he was protective of you, his sweet wife, who cared more about playing animal crossing and baking than she really cared about anything corporate, your family forcing you to work at the company. it grinded his gears beyond belief.

he knew this couldn’t continue like this - it wasn’t fair to you. you were beautiful, far more beautiful than he had ever expected you to be whilst still being warm, intelligent and sweet. he wasn’t sure where to begin, nor where to continue but something had to give.

six months had already dictated your lives enough, and he was finally ready to put a stop to it.

the game was over.

—

by the time jungkook pulled into the driveway, his shoulders aching and head pounding, the clock on his dashboard blared a harsh 1:26am at him, reminding him of the late hour. exhaustion became one with him as he loosened his tie, letting out a deep exhale he could feel from the bottom of his body right to the top, the kind that settled into his bones. he unbuttoned his shirt collar, grunting lightly under his breath at the feeling of finally being free.

his jaw ached, having clenched it continuously throughout his torturous day but it was his head that had him hissing.

meetings. phone calls. numbers. shareholders. men twice his age with too large suits that found every single way to undermine him as he was younger and smarter - it was too fucking much. it was enough to drive anyone insane, but with this and the impending anxiety surrounding his odd dynamic with you, it truly had him exhausted.

the house was quiet, but he could hear a slight buzz roaming through, as he noticed the housekeeper and some of his hired staff still awake, all anticipating his arrival. he apologised wholeheartedly for keeping them so late, asking them to return to their own homes or to help themselves to any guest room. they were as gracious as their employer, all telling him it was fine.

the silence that stretched over the home was something he enjoyed usually, relished even, but right now, it made him uncomfortable. it was hard to describe, but it felt like everything had reached a limit, and he craved something bigger. softer. gentler.

his eyes flickered upstairs. he noticed a light glow emitting from the space beyond the corner.

your room.

it was embarassing, really, how quickly his shoulders eased gently, his wound up body slumping slightly at the thought of you being awake right now too. it was strange, even he knew that, but it brought him a sense of comfort.

his coat was in the hands of one of the staff, who began putting it away beside him just as he glanced over.

“hasn’t she slept yet?” he softly asked, trying to keep his voice quiet just in case.

the older woman bit back a knowing smile, shaking her head. “i believe madam was waiting up.”

his chest tightened.

waiting up?

for him?

jungkook thanked her quietly, nodding a little to himself, before glancing up the stairs once more. he turned, slowly making his way up the stairs, the sounds of his steps echoing around the too quiet home. the hallway was dark as he walked down, except from the glowing light he now confirmed was from your lamps in the corners of your room. you liked to sleep in darkness, which meant you were certainly awake.

still awake. it repeated in his head over and over and over as his hand flexed on the side of him.

somewhere along the way, the mention of you had become dangerous to him, with his heart and head turning, dropping and falling.

it was hard not to feel this way towards you, he thought to himself, trying to rationalise it in anyway possible. you had never demanded anything from him, never pushed, never even complained about this odd arrangement despite how unfair it was for you. you were intelligent, beautiful, accomplished - you were worth a man that made you feel exactly that, and jungkook slumped knowing you hadn’t chosen him.

he knew you had made yourself smaller in this marriage, with a careful politeness in each and every interaction like you were almost too scared of asking for too much from him.

fuck. he hated it.

the truth was, jungkook would have given you anything. he knew minutes after you had finished your ceremony, sharing a gentle peck upon each other’s lips as nothing other than a formality, that he would do his best to make life accommodating for you. he had done that, that he was sure of but to live happily was to be more than just accommodated.

he stood outside his door, staring at the mahogany for an embarrassingly long two minutes before he silenced his suddenly racing mind, turning on his heel to instead face yours just beside it, his eyebrows furrowed.

he lifted his knuckles, gently knocking upon it.

a shuffle from beyond the wood was heard, almost as though you were composing yourself, before the door swung open just as lightly as he had knocked.

his breath caught embarrassingly hard.

you were in one of those sleep dresses, a silky camisole like neckline whilst the matching dressing gown sat loosely done, as though you had just shoved it on, hair messily pulled up into a bun. you looked so soft - he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“you’re home.” you immediately murmured quietly.

the concern in your voice only had his heart beating a little faster, with the way you tilted your head, eyes crinkled slightly knowing he truly had just gotten home. it was so late, and you really didn’t like him working so deep into the evening when you knew that everyone around him had left hours upon hours ago.

“did i wake you?”

you shook your head immediately, tucking the stray piece of hair behind your ear after it fell over your eye. “no, i wasn’t sleeping.”

his gaze drifted over you, watching you do the action with heart struck eyes. you were entranced by how soft he looked in this low light, stomach doing summersaults with him just being here. you guys didn’t really talk often, and it was always something that came every now and then, when you needed it - this felt different.

“you should’ve slept.” he chastised lightly.

you shyly smiled at that. “it’s okay. usually wait till you’re home to sleep so..”

fuck. fuck.

he looked away, unable to meet your eyes for a moment as he felt your words swirl into every crevice of his brain, hitting it right where you occupied each ridge. you noticed it, the way his hand flexed, his jaw tensed, his chest puffing a little at your words like they did something to him directly. it gave you an ego boost.

a few beats passed between you, neither of you quite knowing what to say, but wanting to continue the conversation almost desperately.

“rough day?” you asked, after a moment.

jungkook let out a huff of air, amusement laced in his voice. “yeah, something like that.”

you nibbled on your lip as you nodded, cheeks flushed pink from the sudden attention he was giving you - it felt nice, confusing but god you wanted it more than you could bring yourself to admit.

both of you stood, simply admiring one another openly. his eyes fluttered down from your eyes and down, down, down. your skin looked so soft, with pebbled nipples straining against the thin material of your night dress and your robe slipping from one of your shoulders slightly - you were straight out of a fantasy. you, too, had set your eyes on the way he had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, tie loose, revealing milky skin that you wondered about often.

jungkook was the first to part, swallowing harshly as he realised he had taken so much of your time almost selfishly.

“you should sleep.” he almost whispered, your eyes snapping back up to meet his, cheeks heating even further. “you too.”

neither of you moved.

it was utterly ridiculous. 6 months of being married, living under one roof and stealing glances at one another as though you weren’t allowed - yet this seemed to be the most intimate thing either of you had done.

finally, you brought yourself to be the one to break the moment, knowing how exhausted he really was, despite the heavy stampede of butterflies in your stomach. your eyelashes fluttered as you whispered a soft goodnight before retreating back in your room, door closing just as gently as you’d left.

jungkook stood there for a full minute once more, eyes shut, head straining against the mahogany of the door before retreating to his own room, heart beating out of his chest.

he was so completely, utterly and entirely fucked.

—

sleep didn’t come.

jungkook, instead, found himself rolling from side to side, eyes closing only to snap wide open as he stared above at his high ceiling, his chest constricting whilst his thoughts remained on one person and one person alone.

you.

he couldn’t get you out of his mind. sure, you plagued him all the time, but tonight felt different - it felt like both the start and end of something, as though it meant more than either of you quite realised.

his open curtains showcased the extravagant skyline outside, your shared home sat high enough where you were both faced with the reality that your fortune and social standing had forced you into a marriage where neither of you were sure what the next steps were. his shoulders almost rolled angrily at the recollection of your parents annoyance over not having grandchildren yet, as though anything to do with this situation was even remotely normal.

this arrangement had started as something that best resembled survival for people like you in the environment you were raised in. somewhere along the way, things had changed.

you usually wait till he’s home to sleep.

fuck. the thought was doing overtime in his mind - his wife, sweet and quiet, always making herself small to accommodate everyone else in her life. he didn’t think you’d do that with him, and maybe that meant he was being naive, but the thought of you waiting every time he’d come home so late from the office just to make sure he was safe too?

enough.

jungkook sat up abruptly. he grabbed a pair of sweats, putting them on over his boxers whilst leaving his torso bare, padding out of his room only to notice the soft glow from underneath your bedroom door. you were still awake.

he wasn’t thinking, that much he knew, as he walked over to it, and pushed the door open.

your eyes darted over to the door immediately, noticing his large chest before anything else, your lips parting in shock before you met his gaze. you were in your night dress only, robe long forgotten.

“jungkook?”

god. the way you said his name. it had his shoulders rolling.

his throat tightened momentarily, before he stood a little taller. “did i wake you?”

“no.” you assured, voice soft as sleep laced the corners of it. you were just about to rest your head finally.

he stood there silently for a few moments as again, you both began admiring one another. he, with his large build, shoulders so wide and biceps so muscled you wanted nothing more than to touch them, just to see how they’d feel. he, couldn’t stop staring at your hair, the way it sat, the way it seemed messier due to you no doubt rolling in bed the way he was too. he was, unfortunately, just a man, and so he couldn’t keep his eyes from trailing down your body, almost letting out a groan at the sight of how your dress had shifted, revealing so much more cleavage than earlier.

you sat up a little more. “are you okay?”

his eyes met your eyes.

he really couldn’t stop staring at you. what the fuck was wrong with him?

“couldn’t sleep.” he admitted.

your heart squeezed painfully. without even sparing a thought, you moved, your position no longer in the middle of the bed as you shuffled away to one corner, before lifting the covers a little.

“do you..” your voice came out smaller than intended. “do you wanna sleep here? maybe?”

silence engulfed you both, thick and heavy, as he came to terms with what you had just offered, all whilst you could feel the embarrassment creep over your cheeks. you could feel your hand retreating from the covers as you began to overthink, almost humiliated from the way you had just assumed that was what he was here for.

before you could continue in your spiral, you watched as he turned around.

the door clicked with a soft thud, the click echoing.

your pulse quickened as jungkook then turned to you, body tight, slowly turning off all the lamps around the room, leaving only the one beside you that he knew you liked to keep on till your very last breath each evening. by the time he was done, he pulled the covers back even further, revealing your bare legs and the way your dress had slit up much higher than either of you had expected.

he nearly fucking died then and there when he realised you weren’t wearing any underwear.

he climbed in, sweats already clinging to him in a way that had you realising he was half hard just from looking at you, a fact that had you almost giggling in excitement into your pillow. by the time he was in, you realised how big he actually was, and how much space he took in your smaller bed compared to his - you liked it.

there was something different about him tonight.

something harsher. darker. he was fucking hungry.

you could feel it in the way he watched you, eyes heavy as they dragged up and down your body, then to your face. the room suddenly felt cold, with the only warmth near you emitting from beside you, you lungs gulping in the scent of him.

jungkook leaned back, not quite fully laid down the way you were, whilst his broad chest also took a deep breath, inhaling your scent almost desperately. he looked exhausted still, but now that he was here, in closer proximity than he’d ever been, you noticed how it settled between the fine lines appearing on his faced, clinging to his eyes.

“sorry.” you whispered after a moment, suddenly hyperaware of the lack of space between you both. “the bed’s probably smaller than what you’re used to.”

he met your gaze.

“that’s not the problem.”

butterflies. all over you. swarming in your stomach.

silence swarmed the room again, thick enough to choke on. you couldn’t really comprehend what was happen ing, your husband next to you, sweatpants low on his waist and doing nothing to hide his body, body taking up most of the space on the bed. the city glowed with flashing lights, traffic still on the streets whilst the cool, winter air chilled all those who were brave enough to be outside.

neither of you could look away from one another long enough for admire it.

you shifted slightly below the covers, trying to calm your racing heart. his eyes dropped to the way you curled deeper into the blankets, your night dress shifting even higher up your thighs as a result, rendering you practically bare beside him.

his jaw flexed hard.

you turned on your side quickly after, back facing him now as you tried to put some distance between both of your bodies truly for your sanity. besides you, jungkook exhaled gently.

“you wait up every night?”

your fingers tightened against the sheets. “most nights.”

he was silent for a second.

“why?” he all but demanded.

you shrugged softly against the pillow. “i don’t know..” your voice came out small again, now laced with sleep and honesty. “i just like knowing you’re home.”

jungkook went still. completely still at that.

the past two weeks had been torture for him, coming home in the early hours practically everyday, weekends included due to a massive deal he was closing, and yet the thought of you in your room, ears perked until you heard him go into his own room was..insanity. his heart bloomed with an emotion that resembled the one thing he secretly wanted more than anything. all he could see, think or taste was you.

before you could process the shift in silence, the mattress moved hard beneath and behind you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist, dragging you backwards and across the bed with one rough pull.

a gasp tore through your lips as your back hit his chest, completely flushed against one another.

“jungkook!”

his grip on you tightened before you could move or adjust yourself, your body pressed to him in a way that was inherently indecent - your mind was racing so fast you could barely hear anything other than his breathing by your ear, and the sound of your own heartbeat. this was six months of restraint finally snapped within seconds.

there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.

you could feel everything - the solid heat of his chest on your back, cradling you in, warming you up. his thighs pressed against your own, bare skin touching his sweatpants, though they did nothing to hide the growing tent that was also pressed against you intimately. a heavy hand sat spread on your stomach, bunching the fabric that once draped loosely on you.

god - the way he melted from just touching you, letting out a deep and heavy exhale as though he needed this more than he could explain. his face buried into the space between your neck and shoulder, moving your hair to one side before inhaling openly.

you felt it all the way down your spine.

you could barely breathe with the way he was holding you, firm enough to be possessive and yet you had never felt safer, your eyes shutting momentarily as you let out a matching, airy sigh, content running through your veins. he was holding you like this was the only thing that mattered in his life, and considering the nature of your relationship, it filled you with a sense of awe at knowing you could have maybe had this sooner.

“every night i come home, and i hear you shuffling around in here.”

your eyes fluttered open, the sound of his voice lulling you back to him.

“hear your shower running..hear you watching your shows..” his hand on your stomach tightened. “and then i go to sleep by myself like this arrangement isn’t fucking killing me.”

jungkook swallowed harshly behind you just as you stopped breathing, his words truly out of your wildest dreams as you blinked rapidly.

“i’m tired. so fucking tired.” he admitted quietly. honestly.

the confession sat heavy between you as the air thickened, his words taking their time to settle in the ridges of your brain. it wasn’t just work or the continous pressure on his shoulders - it was this. your marriage. the confusion around it. the want for more. the need for something. the hope it would become anything.

all of it.

the loneliness, the restraint, the constant need for another that you both denied yourselves, convinced that the other didn’t want it half as much.

your hand moved before you could even think. it lifted before pressing against his hand on your stomach, resting in a way that conveyed your shared feelings, assuring him that you too felt the same, that you also felt what he could feel so deeply in his chest.

it was his turn to still. completely and entirely.

his hand flexed underneath before his fingers intertwined with your own - the intimacy of the situation bordering on painful with the way your heart ached at the interaction.

“jungkook..” softly, you whispered.

he shook his head faintly against you, lips now grazing your shoulder in faint, barely there kisses. he couldn’t bare to hear his name on your lips, not when you were also finally in his arms.

“just stay still a second.” his voice cracked on the edges, a clear indication of the exhaustion catching up to him.

somehow that affected you more than anything else.

your body relaxed, softening immediately against him, your limbs settling into his as though it was nothing more than a natural instinct. the reaction he had was instant as he continued to breathe in your scent, only to exhale deeply - he was ridding himself of the tiredness that plagued his soul, replacing it with you. you. you. always you.

a few minutes passed just like that, as you rubbed your thumb over his hand, soothing him gently, all whilst relishing in the warmth that seemed to just emit from him. after what felt like an eternity, you finally turned to properly face him.

the movement forced him to let you go momentarily, an action that genuinely felt akin to the end of the world. the second your faces were now brushing against one another, his arm found its way back onto you, hand heavy on your back.

keeping you close, your noses were mere millimetres away from touching. his eyes dragged slowly across your face like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“should’ve been sleeping here from the first night.” he whispered. “fucked up the second i let you in here alone.”

you fingers trailed up, bravely, to touch his chin, continuing onto his jaw with a barely there graze, as though your intrigue was finally allowed an outlet.

“you’re here now.” you whispered back, as though it was a secret between you both worth celebrating.

“you’re my wife.” he closed his eyes then, jaw slack at the feel of you. “my wife. all mine, hm. my wife.”

it seemed he was speaking to himself by the end of his sentence, pulling you impossibly closer to reward himself for his frankness in that moment. it felt freeing to be so candid with you, and you with him, as you both simply relished in the feel of one another knowing it was finally reciprocated.

you shifted closer without thinking, your thigh intimately brushing against his - the reaction was immediate. his hand flattened against your back, inching down to your ass that was barely hidden by the thin material of your night dress, pushing you flush against him so you could now feel him in a way that was anything but innocent.

instead of going pink or gasping, you surprised him by nestling closer, as though you wanted it even more than he did.

“baby.” he warned softly.

the name alone nearly melted you.

your noses finally brushed against one another, breaths mingling in the tiny pocket of air between you. neither of you wanted to be the first to make the move, so used to staying apart, thinking that was the other wanted - being together, entirely and fully, it was a reminder of how wrong you’d been.

it was unbearable, the tension. the warmth, the heat, his burning stare.

jungkook was a man starved.

your eyes flickered down to his mouth, finally breaking eye contact as your body seemed to move without thinking, pressing against his hardened cock for some semblance of relief. that broke the last shred of restraint jungkook had been desperately clinging to.

his hand slid up to the back of your neck before he finally pressed his lips to yours.

he kissed like a man exhausted, finally finding relief in you, his sweet, needy wife. oh, one taste of you and he realised that this was something he had needed all his life, something he wasn’t willing to give up ever again. had he left you as desperate as he was?

he wanted to be sweet. he knew you deserved that, something soft, something gentle but fuck, he couldn’t help the roughness he chased you with. feeling you try to keep up only made his head absolutely swirl as he grabbed you tight, large hand spanking you equally as mean whilst you whimpered into his mouth.

his grip never loosened for a second, only choosing to push and push and push you closer until there was no more physical space between you, and even then, he continued.

you wanted to feel him in every single way as your positions moved, your arms wrapping around his neck, all whilst he shifted so he could hover over you instead. you could feel him deeper against you as his hips began to grind, making you feel every inch of him.

your legs were spread, dress pushed up to your waist, allowing him to press his clothed cock against your bare core, both of your breathing harsh as you continued to kiss, neither willing to part.

his tongue explored your mouth, all done purposefully as you felt the heat between your thighs clench at the feel of it caressing your own - a promise of what he could do to you, if you only asked.

your hands were in his hair, tugging, making out in a way that was a shock to anyone had they met either of you. months of a quiet marriage, no more than half a minute spent on talking each day, and yet here you were - your husband hovering over you whilst he devoured you, grinding his cock into you until all you could feel, all you could see was jungkook.

by the time you pulled back, hands sliding down his chest, a thin string of saliva separated you as you looked between you. the sight had jungkook hissing as he looked down at you.

the straps of your dress were down your shoulders, it also pushed up all the way to your stomach, leaving you half bare, shielded by jungkook’s large frame and made warm by his radiating heat. you hair fanned out in each corner around you, whilst your typically large eyes sat hooded, lips parted and bruised from the way he had practically devoured you.

he couldn’t decide whether to continue ruining you or to worship you. neither felt enough.

as he kissed you again, slower this time, hips grinding against yours so much deeper, taking his time in ruining you on your too small bed, you realised something.

for the first time since the wedding, you finally felt like a married woman - your husband above you, holding you like you were the most cherished thing in his life, and you below him, as though you were the one and only thing he had dreamt about for months.

it was in the quiet of the night that the distance that had built up across the last six months quietly dissipated, rendering the arranged portion of your marriage dead, whilst you both finally began to feel alive.

comfort personified, you were both finally home.

—

the way i had a dream about this and got to writing IMMEDIATELY ugh need him

lmk if you guys enjoyed - i haven’t edited or read this back so god help me if this is actually shit

if you guys wanna support a writer pay her horrible, ugly, disgusting, freakish london rent, here’s my kofi lol

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

uncle jungkook x primary school teacher y/n

>15k one shot

obsessive, fluffy, smuttt -

—

being a teacher meant the world and more to you.

it was the only thing you knew you had always wanted, something you had trained for, excelled at and frankly, loved more than words. coming in every day to the young children who were so starry eyed and excited to play, learn their phonetics and see you felt fulfilling in ways you couldn’t explain to anyone else.

everyone knew you as the sweet, pretty teacher who decorated her classroom with all of her free time. you were a miss honey in the living flesh, with cute dresses and cardigans, your hair falling in even sweeter waves, big eyes hidden away behind a pair of glasses. the only way to really describe you was adorable, you were so easy to love.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

kooklovee

Hold on to me (m) - JJK

Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI

ONESHOT - 11k words

Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)

a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶

Sequel - holding on to you 🌷

Masterlist kofi☕

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The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room. But its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.

You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it.. feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the huge windows.

Jungkook is late. Again.

You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.

He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

kurapikaenia

Look, dont touch. ︱ᴊᴇᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ oneshot.

mafia jeon jungkook set his eyes on you long before you ever noticed him. you, the club’s silent dancer, the one who never spoke, never allowed a single touch yet left men breathless with every movement. a fantasy men paid thousands just to witness, a mystery wrapped in silk and silence. one look at you, and jeon knew that resistance would be futile.

⎯⎯ pairing: mafia jeon x stripper y/n

• warnings: 18+ mdni, dark, smut, erotic, obsession, yearning, kinky, angst, selectivelymute!y/n, bigdick!jk, softdom!jk.

〴note: i didn’t think id share this because i was really insecure abt it for the longest time, but i‘ve made some nunu changes so here we are. think of this oneshot as a soft, reverent kiss on the cheek from me to you. ︴

• word count: 9k

The club had been the posession of Jeon for exactly seven days.

No more crowds, no more wandering eyes. No more hands reaching for what was never theirs to begin with.

Jeon had burned every bridge, erased every extra pair of eyes until the neon drenched room breathed only for the two of you. The bass pulsed low and heavy, but the only heartbeat that mattered now was the one hammering between your locked gazes.

You circled the pole once, eyes never leaving his.

Jeon’s breath stayed even, but his fingers tightened slightly on the armrest. He could feel the aching, all consuming obsession clawing deeper under his skin.

This was the woman who had haunted him since the very first night.

Months ago, he had walked into this same club for business only.

Corrupt politicians sat across from Jeon in the VIP lounge, sealing dirty deals in low voices while his men guarded the doors, guns heavy in their pockets. lust filled men threw money at the stage like confetti, but Jeon hadn’t spared the dancers a single glance. He was here to collect what was owed, nothing more.

once the deal was done, he stood, lighting a cigarette as he headed toward the dimly lit back hallway that smelled of cheap perfume and sweat. The smoke curled from his lips.

Then, you came out of nowhere, colliding straight into his chest with a soft, startled sound.

Out of pure reflex, Jeon’s gun was out and pressed to your forehead before either of you could blink. His other hand gripped your upper arm hard, steadying you from the collision. His eyes were black ice, voice a dangerous growl.

“Do you want to die, little girl?”

You didn’t scream, nor did you flinch away. You just stared up at him, wide eyes flooded with raw fear and a deep, quiet sadness that hit him like a blade between the ribs. Your chest rose and fell rapidly against his grip, but no words came.

Jeon clicked his tongue, annoyed at the lack of apology, intrigued by the delicate creature trembling under his hold. He stepped closer, crowding you back against the cold wall until his broad frame swallowed yours completely as he pinned you there. The barrel of the gun lowered slowly, but he didn’t release you.

You were tiny compared to him. His broad frame completely eclipsed yours, caging you in without effort. Yet even in fear, you held a quiet, striking beauty that hit him harder than it should have.

He lowered the barrel slowly, but didn’t release you. Instead, he leaned in and blew a thin stream of smoke directly into your face.

You coughed; soft and startled, the first sound he ever heard from you.

It was barely a breath, fragile and sweet, and something dark and possessive stirred low in his gut.

Jeon traced the edge of the gun slowly down the side of your neck, the cold metal gliding over your pulse point. He was looking for a whimper, a flinch, any sound of fear. Instead, you only gasped silently, lips parting further, body staying perfectly still despite the tremble running through your smaller frame.

His free hand rose, knuckles brushing your soft cheek with surprising gentleness for a man who had just held a gun to your head. He watched the pretty blush bloom under his touch, your big eyes glassy with fear. You were breathtaking.

“Pretty little thing,” he said quietly, almost to himself, dark eyes drinking you in. “All quiet and scared… but you don’t run. Interesting.”

Before he could push further, hurried footsteps echoed.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon!” Your manager came rushing, bowing repeatedly, voice shaking. “She doesn’t speak much. she’s new, probably just got lost back here. She won’t cause any trouble, I swear.”

The man yanked you away from Jeon’s grip, still apologizing profusely. You disappeared quickly down the hall without a backward glance, robe fluttering behind you.

Jeon let you go, but his eyes stayed glued to the spot where you had vanished, the ghost of your warmth and that silent, fearful gaze burning into him.

He left that night with interest already blooming like poison in his veins.

Jeon returned the next friday for another deal. This time, while he was making his way out, he saw you once again when you stepped onto the stage, moving like liquid shadow whilst the crowd whistled and threw bills, but you never smiled, never engaged. Your eyes scanned the room once… and landed on him.

Tension crackled instantly, thick and electric. You held his gaze longer than anyone else’s.

Later, after your set, Jeon watched from the hallway as a drunk regular tried to grab your wrist near the curtain. You pulled back sharply, ice cold refusal in every line of your body. The manager intervened quickly, muttering, “She doesn’t let anyone touch her, ever. That’s her rule. She’s the most demanded girl here right now because of it.”

Jeon’s jaw tightened. He made a single quiet call that night.

By the third visit, fewer men lingered near the stage when you danced.

By the fifth, the ones who still tried to approach you started disappearing.

And now, seven days after he bought the entire club, the room was empty except for him.

The low lights dimmed even further as the last staff member slipped out without a word. The heavy velvet curtain behind the small private stage parted.

You stepped into the glow barefoot, silk robe sliding off one shoulder, the same calm mask on your face that never cracked for anyone. Your eyes found his immediately. Not by accident, not shyly. They locked on unblinking, the way they had every single night since the first time he sat in that booth months ago.

The same quiet fear lived in your eyes, the same deep, unspoken sadness. But tonight, there was something else threading through it... resignation, maybe. Or the first fragile thread of curiosity.

Jeon sat perfectly still in the wide leather chair, legs spread, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other resting on his thigh. Black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak first. He simply let the tension stretch between you like a live wire.

You never spoke. not once. not even now, when the entire club was empty except for the two of you and the rules had finally bent enough for this: one private dance. For him. Only him.

You let the robe fall. It pooled at your feet like spilled ink, revealing the delicate set underneath, lace kissing the curves he had memorized from a distance for so long.

Your body moved before the first heavy beat dropped. Every roll of your hips, every arch of your spine, every slide of your palms down your own thighs was controlled, never giving enough.

Jeon’s breath stayed even, but his fingers tightened slightly on the armrest. He could feel the obsession clawing deeper under his skin, soft, aching and all consuming.

You dropped low, thighs parting as you sank into a slow crouch, back arching until your hair brushed the floor. The lights painted gold across your skin, catching on the faint sheen of glitter still lingering from earlier. When you rose again, you stepped closer, close enough that the heat of you brushed against the air in front of him, close enough that he could smell the faint vanilla on your skin, but never enough to taste it.

Your palms slid up the pole again as you spun, slow and sinful, one leg hooking high, body stretching into a perfect line that made the ache in his chest twist into something hotter.

Your eyes stayed locked on his the entire time, calm on the surface, but he saw the flicker of the fear that never quite left, and the sadness that made him want to wrap the whole damn world in silence just so nothing could touch you again.e simply watched, dark eyes heavy with the kind of worship that only a man like him could give, soft in its intensity, dangerous in its patience.

Jeon was painfully aware of your rules. No one touched you. No one saw more than you chose to offer.

Yet, you were still the most prized, most wanted thing that had ever existed in this club. And now, you were his alone.

His cock strained hard against the front of his slacks, thick and throbbing with every slow roll of your hips. The flimsy fabric of your top barely hid the soft swell of your breasts, nipples faintly visible through the lace. Those thin panties clung to you, the delicate material doing nothing to hide the outline of what lay beneath. Every time you moved, his mouth went dry with the need to taste, to bury his face between those pretty thighs and worship until the sadness in your eyes melted into pleasure.

He had paid you more than anyone ever had, enough that you could walk away from this life tomorrow if you wanted. Enough for that quiet, secluded place you dreamed about, far from bruises and leering eyes.

But tonight you were still here, dancing only for him, giving him more than you had ever given anyone. That knowledge sent a dark thrill through his veins.

You intrigued him. The way your eyes always found his shadow in the dark, the way you bent and twisted as if trying to see past the low lights to the man watching you so obsessively. He had never once tried to touch you, never pushed past your boundaries even though he could have overpowered you in a heartbeat. And that restraint only made his obsession burn hotter, because he respected you. Needed you to come to him on your own terms.

Jeon couldn’t handle the temptation much longer.

Months of watching you, months of dreaming about sliding his hands over your soft skin, kissing away the fear in your eyes, giving you everything you could ever ask for. But what drove him truly insane was your silence.

You had a voice, he had heard that soft little cough the night you first collided with him... but no one in the club had ever heard you speak. The quiet mystery of you made his cock twitch painfully.

He mumbled a quiet curse under his breath, shifting in his seat as you slid down gracefully and sat on the edge of the small stage, legs dangling toward him.

Jeon reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick stack of bills, placing them on the small table beside his chair. His rough voice came out, patience laced with raw hunger.

“Touch yourself. Now.”

Your eyes widened slightly, that familiar fear and sadness flickering, but something else shimmered there too, heat, the same quiet intensity that had been building between you for months.

You didn’t speak, but you obeyed.

Slowly, shyly, your fingers hooked into the waistband of your thin lace panties. You slid them down your legs and set them aside, but the moment they left your body, one hand moved instantly to cover yourself, palm pressed flat and firm over your pussy, hiding the most intimate part of you even as your thighs parted wide for his gaze.

Jeon’s breath left him in a slow, controlled exhale, eyes darkening to near black as he leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.

He could see everything except the center of you: the smooth skin of your inner thighs, the soft curve where your ass met the stage, the way your fingers trembled just slightly as they pressed against your folds.

It was the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed, your shyness, the way you still protected what no one had ever been allowed to see or touch.

You started with slow, hesitant circles hidden beneath your palm, shy strokes that made your hips roll gently. Your breath came in quiet pants.

In your mind, it was all him. Those intense dark eyes watching you. His large, veined hands instead of your own. His broad frame hovering over you, commanding you to keep going while he finally touched what no one else ever had. The fantasy made you wetter, made your palm press harder, fingers sliding through slick heat while still keeping everything carefully covered.

A tiny, breathy sound escaped you, the softest whimper.

Jeon’s cock throbbed visibly against his slacks. He palmed himself once, eyes never leaving the place where your hand disappeared between your spread thighs.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice thick with restrained hunger.

Your cheeks adorned a soft flush, thighs trembling as you spread them even wider for him, giving him the full view of your smooth skin and the obscene way your palm shielded your pussy. Your back arched slightly as your hidden fingers moved faster under your palm. The sadness in your eyes was still there, but it was drowning in heat now, heat directed only at him

Jeon’s gaze burned into you, obsession coiling tight in his chest. He wanted to replace that shy little hand with his own so fucking badly. Wanted to pry your thighs open wider, pull your palm away, and finally see what you hid so tenderly and what he deemed belonged to him.

Wanted to sink two thick fingers deep inside you, curl them slow while his thumb worked your clit. He wanted to replace that shy little hand with his own so fucking badly. Wanted to pry your thighs open wider until you broke that perfect silence with his name. Wanted to taste you, then pull you into his lap and keep you there safe, owned and protected until the fear in your eyes disappeared for good.

But he didn’t move.

Your fingers pressed harder beneath your palm, legs trembling, breaths coming quicker. You were a soaked mess, glistening down your thighs now and still, he couldn’t see the center of you. Only the way your hand moved, only the mystery of what you kept hidden even while giving him this.

Jeon leaned back slightly, one hand gripping the armrest hard, the other still palming his straining cock through his pants.

He would wait. He would burn. But the day you finally let him touch you… he would ruin you so softly, so completely, that you’d never want anyone else’s hands again.

And in the pulsing neon silence, Jeon was already completely, irreversibly lost in you.

The nights after, began like all the others. You were called to the private room again, just like before, another quiet performance meant only for him.

You had already begun to recognize the rhythm of these nights, the steady anticipation that built inside your chest when you knew he was waiting.

But this time, before you could make it there, your manager grabbed you before you reached the hallway.

Your body jerked backward from the force, arm twisting painfully in his grip. A sharp sting shot up your wrist, and panic surged instantly through your veins. You didn’t cry out, but your body stiffened, shrinking inward like you had done so many times before.

His fingers dug deeper into your skin, nails pressing hard enough to bruise. “You think you’re special?” he hissed, voice ugly with anger. His breath smelled bitter, too close to your face. “Walking around like you run this place now just because one rich bastard throws money at you.”

You shook your head quickly, small and frantic, your free hand pushing weakly against his chest. You weren’t trying to fight him, just trying to create space, to escape that suffocating closeness.

He didn’t let go. Instead, his grip tightened further, forcing a quiet gasp from your throat.

“I’m the one who keeps you here,” he continued harshly. “You think you get to make rules? if i tell you to do something, you’re going to fucking do it!”

You lowered your gaze automatically, shoulders curling inward as your body slipped into survival mode out of fear. The hallway felt smaller now, the sounds of music from the main room distant and unreachable.

His hand shifted from your wrist to your upper arm, squeezing hard enough to make your knees weaken, before he smirked at your fear, his hand now shamelessly trailing down your back.

“You’re going to start sleeping with the customers i give you” he snapped, “or things are going to get a lot worse for you.”

His other hand lifted suddenly. You flinched before it even came down, your eyes squeezing shut as dread surged through your chest.

But the impact never landed. Instead, there was another sound... a dull, sickening crack that echoed sharply through the narrow hallway.

Your manager’s grip vanished instantly. your body stumbled forward from the sudden release, breath tearing from your lungs as you caught yourself against the wall. For a moment, you didn’t understand what had happened as everything felt distant and muffled.

Then you turned, slowly, only to see your manager, on the floor.

His body lay twisted unnaturally against the polished tiles, one arm bent beneath him at an impossible angle. Blood pooled darkly beneath his head, spreading outward in a widening stain that reflected the harsh overhead lights.

Your heart began to pound violently in your chest. Your vision blurred, and then you saw him.

Jeon stood a few feet away, his chest rising and falling slowly, his breathing steady despite the violence that had just unfolded. His knuckles were smeared with blood, crimson streaked across pale skin, dripping slowly to the floor below.

His face was terrifyingly calm, while your entire body began to shake.

Fear surged through you, wrapping tight around your lungs until breathing became painful. You had seen violence before, heard shouting, witnessed cruelty, even had violence inflicted upon you, but never this. Never death.

Your knees weakened beneath you. And then, without meaning to, your voice broke free, soft and fragile, barely louder than a whisper.

Jeon turned toward you slowly, like you were something fragile that might shatter if he moved too quickly.

Your tears began to fall without restraint now, hot and unstoppable, blurring everything around you. Your hands trembled violently at your sides as fear and confusion tangled painfully inside your chest.

“D-don’t…” you whispered weakly, your voice cracking with panic.

You didn’t even know what you meant. Don’t hurt me. Don’t come closer. Don’t leave me alone with this.

Jeon took a slow step toward you. His voice, when he spoke, was lower than before, softer.

“It’s okay,” he murmured quietly.

The gentleness in his tone didn’t match the blood on his hands, and that contradiction made your chest tighten painfully. You pressed yourself back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as sobs finally broke free from your throat.

Your legs gave out beneath you as you slid downward helplessly, collapsing against the floor as your body surrendered to exhaustion and fear.

Jeon reached you just before your head hit the ground, his hands catching your shoulders with surprising gentleness. The warmth of his touch seeped through your trembling body, grounding you in a way you couldn’t explain.

For a moment, everything felt distant, the music from the main floor, the murmurs of staff beginning to gather at the far end of the hallway. All of it faded into background noise as your fingers instinctively curled into the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

You didn’t realize you were holding onto him until he shifted slightly, steadying your weight more securely.

“It’s alright,” Jeon murmured again, his voice low, though there was something tight beneath it, something restrained. “You’re safe.”

Safe. The word echoed strangely in your mind, foreign and unfamiliar.

Safe wasn’t something you had ever truly known, not in your parents’ house, not on the streets, not even here in the club where you had carved out your fragile set of rules just to survive.

Yet now, pressed against him, you found yourself clinging to that word like it meant everything.

Your sobs came harder, breaking through your chest in uneven waves as the shock finally settled into your bones. You tried to breathe, but every inhale felt like the air itself had turned against you.

Jeon stayed where he was, crouched in front of you, one hand still resting firmly against your shoulder while the other hovered briefly at your back, settling there with careful restraint.

He waited until your breathing slowed slightly before moving again. “we need to leave,” he said quietly.

You stiffened faintly at his words, your grip tightening unconsciously on his shirt as the word stirred unease inside your chest, but the alternative, staying here, in this hallway with your manager’s body only a few feet away was far worse. Your eyes shifted weakly toward the motionless form on the floor, and a fresh tremor rippled through your body.

Without a word, Jeon moved closer, shifting his body just enough to block your view. You didn’t protest when his arm slid beneath your knees.

You barely registered the movement until your body lifted suddenly from the floor, your breath catching in surprise as he gathered you carefully into his arms, as if he had carried fragile things before and knew exactly how much strength to use.

Your hands clutched at his jacket again, fingers trembling against the fabric.

He held you securely, one arm supporting your back, the other beneath your legs, keeping you close enough that you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

The hallway around you seemed to blur as he began walking. Voices murmured somewhere nearby, but no one stopped him. no one questioned him. They moved out of his way.

You didn’t look up. Your face remained pressed into his chest, tears still slipping silently down your cheeks as exhaustion settled heavily into your limbs.

Outside, the cold night air hit your skin sharply, making you shiver despite the warmth of his hold. Jeon didn’t hesitate as he moved straight toward a sleek black car waiting near the entrance.

One of his men, though you didn’t recognize the face, stood nearby, silent and attentive. Their eyes flicked briefly toward you before lowering again in quiet understanding.

Jeon slid carefully into the back seat, adjusting his hold on you so that your body rested securely against him rather than the cold leather.

You didn’t realize where he was taking you until the car stopped.

By then, exhaustion had begun to weigh heavily against your eyelids, body still trembling faintly with every passing second. The movement of the car had been strangely calming, the quiet hum of the engine mixing with the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath your ear.

When the door opened again, cool night air brushed across your face. You blinked weakly, lifting your head just enough to see where you were.

Your apartment building stood in front of you.

Relief flickered faintly in your chest, as Jeon stepped out of the car, still holding you securely in his arms.

He didn’t set you down. Instead, he carried you all the way to the entrance, his pace steady despite the narrow stairwell. Each step echoed faintly against the concrete walls as he climbed, never once loosening his grip.

A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as your door came into view.

You hadn’t planned for anyone to see this place.

Especially not him.

Jeon paused only long enough for you to fumble weakly with your keys. Your hands trembled badly as you tried to guide the metal into the lock, your breathing uneven as anxiety crawled back into your chest.

He waited patiently, didn’t rush you, didn’t take the keys from your hand.

Eventually, the door clicked open.

You felt the shift in his body immediately once he stepped inside.

You didn’t need to look to know what he was seeing.

The thin mattress on the floor, the nearly empty shelves, the bare walls. There was almost nothing here, nothing that suggested comfort, safety, or even basic living.

Jeon slowly lowered you onto the mattress, his movements careful as he released his hold. The absence of his warmth felt immediate, leaving you suddenly aware of the cold air brushing against your skin.

He stood there for a long moment, gaze moving slowly across the room, taking in every detail of the worn fabric of your blanket, the absence of anything resembling security or protection.

Then his eyes shifted downward, toward the corner of the mattress, noticing the slight bulge beneath it.

You stiffened faintly.

Without speaking, Jeon crouched slightly, lifting the edge of the mattress just enough to reveal what lay hidden beneath.

There were envelopes. Stacks of them, unopened and untouched. All the money he had given you, every last bit of it was still there, kept neatly.

His jaw tightened slowly as realization settled into place. You weren’t living off the money, or spending it.

You were saving. Preparing to leave.

The thought struck something sharp inside his chest as he lowered the mattress again, covering the hidden stacks before turning toward you.

You sat frozen, watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, quietly, he asked, “You were going to leave.”

Your throat tightened painfully as you looked down at your hands, fingers twisting weakly together in your lap. You didn’t answer him, but you didn’t deny it either.

You hadn’t meant for him to see this, not the apartment, not the truth of how you lived. The image of your life laid bare in front of him felt far more exposing than standing under stage lights ever had.

“You’re not staying here.” The words came suddenly, cutting cleanly through the silence before you could even lift your head.

You looked up at him slowly. Jeon was standing in the center of the room now, his broad frame rigid as his gaze swept across the apartment once more. His eyes moved from the mattress beneath you to the bare corners of the walls, then to the thin door that separated you from the rest of the building. His jaw tightened slightly, a faint muscle ticking beneath the skin as if he were holding something back.

“This place…” he muttered quietly, almost to himself, his gaze drifting toward the single window. “There’s no security. No protection.”

You swallowed, fingers tightening nervously around the edge of the blanket beneath you.

You had known that. Every night you had laid down here, listening to footsteps outside your door, every creak making your body tense. But knowing didn’t mean you had another choice.

Jeon turned toward you again, his expression hard but not cruel. There was frustration there, yes, but beneath it sat something that looked dangerously close to concern.

“You have money,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Enough to live somewhere better than this.”

Your throat tightened painfully at that.

Slowly, your gaze dropped toward the mattress beneath you. You hesitated for a moment before reaching down, fingers trembling slightly as you lifted the corner of the mattress. The stack of envelopes came into view, carefully arranged in a way that made it obvious they had never been spent.

Jeon watched in silence as you pulled them out one by one, stacking them carefully in your lap.

“What’s your name?” he asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

You didn’t look up. Your gaze stayed fixed on the floor, on your trembling fingers, anywhere but him.

He didn’t push. He understood.

You didn’t speak not because you couldn’t, but because speaking had always cost you something. You had learned early on that silence was safer, that keeping your thoughts, fears, and even your voice to yourself was the only control you could hold.

And in a world where hands could hurt more than words ever could, silence had become both shield and sanctuary for you.

Jeon studied you quietly for a long moment, noting the tension in your shoulders, the slight tremor in your lips. The thought of leaving you here in this fragile state, with nothing and no one felt unbearable to him.

Finally, he straightened.

“I’ll find you somewhere better, safer. Somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder every second. You won’t dance in clubs anymore.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “I’m not forcing you,” he added, softer now, almost gentle. “But it’s dangerous. people saw me with you tonight. The manager…” His jaw tightened slightly. “What happened back there doesn’t stay in this city.”

You remained still, silent as always, but your gaze flicked faintly toward him. He crouched slightly, as if to match your level again, giving you the space to absorb the gravity of the situation.

Then, without another word, he turned. The sudden sound of the apartment door opening and closing filled the space behind you, leaving you alone with the weight of his absence.

And then, it happened.

You rose unsteadily to your feet, the exhaustion, fear, and sudden surge of emotion coalescing into a desperate, unplanned movement. You stepped forward and pressed yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his torso before he could fully clear the doorway.

“Wait,” you whispered, a soft, broken sound.

Jeon’s body froze, a hand halfway out to the doorknob, eyes wide as he registered the unexpected voice.

“Don’t go,” you murmured, voice so soft it almost blended with your rapid breathing.

He stayed still, hesitation creeping into the edges of his controlled composure. The man who had dealt with threats, and death without flinching was now caught completely off guard by the quiet, trembling sound of your voice and the fact that you had chosen this moment to break the boundary you had always held so carefully.

Slowly, he lowered his hand from the doorknob and wrapped his arms around you instead, careful not to cross the boundaries you had set but steady enough to reassure.

You buried your face against his chest, holding on tighter than you thought you could. And in that silent embrace, for the first time in a long time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to escape anymore.

Not while he was here.

The first few nights in Jeon’s estate had felt unreal.

You remembered lying stiffly in the massive bed the first time he brought you here, your body tense beneath clean sheets that smelled faintly of something warm and unfamiliar. You hadn’t slept much that night, not because of fear, but because comfort had felt suspicious, like something temporary that would disappear if you trusted it too quickly.

But it hadn’t disappeared. And days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

Slowly, without you realizing it at first, the estate stopped feeling like a stranger’s home. It became yours too.

Jeon had given you everything without asking for anything in return.

Clean clothes, soft ones unlike the tight, glittering costumes from the club. Not the uncomfortable fabrics that clung too closely to your skin. These were loose, warm and gentle against your body, soft pants that allowed you to move without feeling watched.

At first, you had hesitated to wear them as they felt too nice, and too undeserved.

But Jeon never commented. Never made you feel like you owed him gratitude for the smallest comforts. He simply placed them in the wardrobe and left you to discover them on your own.

The soft bed had become your favorite place.

At first, you slept at the very edge of it, as far from him as possible, your body turned slightly away, ready to flinch at any unexpected movement. But he never crossed the space between you.

Even when exhaustion dragged him under after long nights away, his body remained still, respectful of boundaries you had never needed to repeat aloud.

Months had passed, and he still hadn’t touched you without permission.

That alone had changed something deep inside you. You appreciated it more than words could express.

And that was the problem. You still hadn’t spoken to him, not truly. Not beyond broken whispers forced out by fear.

Yet every day, he spoke to you like conversation was natural between you. Like silence didn’t bother him, and your presence alone was enough.

He would talk quietly while getting ready in the mornings, adjusting the cuffs of his shirts, straightening his jacket as he explained small details about his day, where he was going, when he would return, who he would be meeting.

You always listened.

Sometimes, when he wasn’t in the room, you practiced saying his name quietly, whispering it into the empty air, shaping the syllables slowly against your lips.

“Jeon…”

Soft, and barely audible. Sometimes you said it again, just to feel what it sounded like resting on your tongue.

You didn’t know when you would say it to him.

But you wanted to. More than anything.

You rarely felt bored inside the estate as there was always something to do, books he had placed in the room, soft music that played faintly through hidden speakers. Sometimes you wandered the halls, your bare feet sinking into thick carpets, curiosity slowly replacing fear.

But even with all of that, you still found yourself waiting.

Waiting for the sound of the front door, his footsteps, waiting for the familiar presence that made the entire house feel warmer.

You didn’t like admitting it to yourself, but you missed him when he was gone.

And tonight, he was later than usual.

You sat curled near the headboard, a book resting forgotten in your lap as your eyes drifted repeatedly toward the door. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the walls.

Your fingers twisted nervously into the book placed infront of you.

Then, distant footsteps sound as the door opened.

Jeon stepped inside slowly, his movements heavier than usual. His jacket hung loosely from his shoulders, slightly wrinkled, his dark hair messier than you had ever seen it before. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes, and the tension in his posture was unmistakable.

Your chest tightened at the sight. He didn’t notice you at first. He exhaled deeply, the sound low and exhausted as he stepped further into the room.

Jeon walked straight to the bed like he always did after long nights. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat down at the edge, shoulders slumping forward in a way you had never really seen before. Usually, he carried himself with sharp control, every movement precise. Tonight, that control looked worn thin.

That was when you frowned. You pushed yourself upright slowly, the blankets slipping from your shoulders as you moved. The soft fabric of your nightgown settled around you, light against your skin. It was simple, modest, something he had bought months ago without comment, leaving it folded neatly on the bed as if it had always belonged there.

You could tell by the way his head lifted slightly, brows drawing together in quiet confusion when he noticed you sitting up.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, carefully, you shifted closer.

Your movements were slow, giving him time to pull away if he wanted. but he didn’t. He only watched, quiet curiosity flickering faintly beneath his exhaustion.

You reached for him, fingers brushing lightly against his sleeve first, hesitant. When he didn’t resist, you curled your hand more firmly into the fabric and tugged softly.

Jeon blinked in surprise as you were pulling him toward you.

He let himself move, guided by your hands, his body leaning slightly forward despite the confusion written faintly across his face. He trusted your movements, even without understanding them.

And then, you pressed his head softly against your chest.

The contact startled him as his body went still for a split second, breath catching faintly as he registered what you had done. The warmth of you, the steady rise and fall of your breathing beneath his cheek, the soft fabric of your nightgown brushing lightly against his skin, it all felt unfamiliar in the most disarming way.

You didn’t hesitate as your fingers slid gently into his hair, ruffling through the dark strands slowly, uncertain at first, as if learning the motion as you went.

You continued, slow strokes threading through his hair, hand moving patiently. The tension in his shoulders began to loosen beneath your touch, his breathing gradually evening out as he allowed himself to rest there, against you.

Your fingers kept moving, soothing, a small, quiet offering of comfort. The least you could give him.

Jeon let out a slow breath against your chest, the sound soft and unguarded. His hands rested loosely at his sides at first, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them, what he was allowed to do in this moment.

You didn’t push him away. So slowly, cautiously, his hands lifted, hovering near your waist for a moment, giving you time to stop him, to remind him of boundaries, but you stayed still.

Carefully, he let his hands settle against your waist, resting there lightly. Your breathing softened as you felt his weight lean more fully into you.

And then, after a long moment of silence, your lips parted. Your heart pounded faintly in your chest, the words forming slowly, clumsily unfamiliar on your tongue, but you tried.

“…tired?” you whispered. the word came out quiet and fragile, barely louder than breath, but clear enough to be understood.

Jeon froze from surprise at the sound of your voice, soft, concerned for him.

He tilted his head slightly, just enough to glance upward, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. “Yeah,” he murmured quietly, his voice rough with exhaustion. “A little.”

Jeon’s face remained pressed to your chest, his warm breath fanning across the soft swell of your breasts through the thin nightgown.

His mouth brushed lightly against one peaked nipple, the contact sending a quiet shiver through you. He stayed perfectly still, waiting, always waiting for your boundaries.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, your fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through his dark hair. With the gentlest pressure, you guided his head a fraction closer, your other hand cupping the back of his neck in silent permission.

Jeon’s breath hitched. His lips parted, and he began to suck softly through the fabric, tongue warm and careful as it circled the sensitive peak. There was nothing demanding in it, only a deep, exhausted need for comfort. He suckled slowly, eyes fluttering half closed, a low, broken sound vibrating against your skin.

You let him. Your thumb brushed tenderly over his cheek as you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his cheek, then another to his temple. A faint, barely there smile curved your lips. the first real one he had ever seen from you.

“It’s okay.” you whispered, voice barely audible, soothing.

His eyes opened just enough to look up at you. He had heard your voice so rarely that each whisper, each soft breath of sound felt like something precious. He yearned for it, hungrily and in the quietest way.

Jeon never made you feel foolish for not speaking. Silence with you had never felt like absence to him. it had always felt like waiting for something fragile to bloom in its own time.

It did something dangerous to his heart.

He had never known warmth like this. Never known someone would hold him, let him take comfort from their body without expectation or fear.

He continued sucking softly, mouth gentle and unhurried, cheek resting fully against your breast as he drew quiet comfort from the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and the faint taste of you through the fabric. His hands stayed lightly at your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles, anchoring himself without taking more than you offered.

You kept kissing his cheek between soft coos, fingers never stopping their patient strokes through his hair. The faint smile lingered on your lips as you watched him. this dangerous man, reduced to nothing but quiet vulnerability in your arms.

He had spent months protecting you, erasing every shadow that dared come near. Tonight, you were the one giving him shelter.

Jeon’s sucking gradually slowed, growing lazier and softer as exhaustion finally pulled him under. His lips stayed gently latched, warm and wet against your nipple, breaths deepening into the steady rhythm of sleep while his face remained nestled safely between your breasts.

You held him there, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, faint smile still ghosting your lips as you continued to stroke his hair long into the night.

In the quiet darkness, with his mouth still softly pressed to you and his heartbeat syncing with yours, the silence felt warmer than it ever had.

The first night after that moment stayed with you. In the quiet way your skin felt warmer than usual, in the strange heaviness that settled low in your stomach whenever you thought about the way Jeon had leaned into you, trusting you enough to rest like that.

And now you craved it in ways that left you restless at night, thighs pressing together when you remembered the weight of his head on your chest, the way his lips had brushed your nipple through the thin fabric, the soft, needy sounds he made while seeking comfort only you could give.

On the nights he returned home angry, jaw tight, eyes sharp with the weight of whatever blood and deals stained his hands, you did the same. You would take his hand without a word and guide him to the bed. He would follow, always, letting you pull him down until his broad frame curled into you. You’d press his face to your chest, fingers sliding into his dark hair, and he would sigh against you like the whole world finally quieted.

It became a habit faster than either of you expected.

He would nuzzle in, lips seeking until they found the soft peak of your nipple through whatever you wore. Then he would suck slowly, with gentle pulls, tongue warm and lazy, eyes fluttering shut as tension bled from his shoulders.

You loved the way his sharp, cold gaze would soften into something doe like and vulnerable when he looked up at you in the middle of it.

This dangerous man.. twice your size, a mafia who erased people without blinking, reduced to quiet need in your arms. It melted something deep inside your guarded heart every single time.

You would stroke his hair, kiss his temple, whisper soft, wordless coos while he suckled. Sometimes your nightgown would slip just enough for his mouth to meet bare skin, and you let him. The soft, wet sounds filled the quiet room intimately vulnerable, and strangely sacred.

You had never allowed hands on your body with anyone, never permitted closeness. Yet with Jeon, you offered solace, even though he was the most dangerous man you knew, because giving it to him made the emptiness in your own chest feel smaller.

But the more he found peace in you, the more you ached.

The absence of his hands on your waist when you weren’t guiding them. The lack of his mouth when he wasn’t tired and seeking solace.

You wanted more.

You wanted him to touch you not just when he was exhausted and seeking comfort, but because he needed you the way you were starting to need him. You wanted his large hands sliding under your clothes with quiet permission. You wanted his mouth on you when you were the one trembling and restless. You wanted to hear that low, rough voice telling you exactly how he was going to take care of you.

Jeon still didn’t touch you unless you guided him. Still respected every boundary without question.

and that was the problem.

You had spent so much of your life feeling touched in ways you hated, forced contact of unwanted hands, suffocating closeness that made your skin crawl.

But Jeon’s touch had never felt like that. His hands had always been gentle.

And now, you missed them. You missed the weight of his head against your chest, missed the warmth of his hands resting lightly at your waist. Missed the quiet way he breathed you in.

It made something inside you ache, a subtle, quiet restlessness. A strange warmth blooming beneath your skin when he stood close to you. The heat of his body when he passed by, the faint scent of him left behind on pillows and clothing.

You noticed everything now, the sound of his voice, the shape of his hands.

And worst of all, you noticed how much you wanted him.

The deep, unfamiliar longing coiled low inside your stomach and refused to fade.

Sometimes, when he wasn’t home, the estate felt too quiet. You found yourself wandering into the bedroom earlier than usual, curling into the bed where his scent lingered faintly in the sheets.

Days passed, and the feeling still didn’t fade. It only deepened.

Until one night, you found yourself alone again.

The house was silent, Jeon had left hours ago, promising to return late like he often did.

You lay on his bed in nothing but a thin nightgown, thighs parted, two fingers buried deep inside your soaked pussy. Your hips rolled desperately as you chased release, mind filled with him, his dark eyes, his large hands, the way he watched you like you were everything.

A soft, broken whimper escaped.

“Jeon…”

You hadn’t heard when the bedroom door opened and Jeon stepped inside.

You lay on his bed, legs spread, fingers still moving and eyes wide with shock as they met his

You whimpered his name again, shyly trying to cover yourself, but your hips twitched restlessly, starved. Your eyes begged him silently, glossy and desperate.

Jeon’s jaw clenched. His cock hardened instantly, thick and heavy. He was just as desperate, but he didn’t trust himself to stay soft if he lost control.

He crossed the room but still didn’t touch you. “Keep going, angel. let me watch.”

You obeyed, shy fingers returning between your legs, rubbing slow circles while your eyes stayed locked on him. But it wasn’t enough. You were too restless, too impatient and your thighs trembling with need.

Jeon sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here.” He guided you gently onto his lap, your back to his chest, thighs spread wide over his. His hard cock pressed against your ass through his slacks. One large hand rested lightly on your stomach, the other hovering just above your pussy, waiting.

“relax, angel,” he murmured against your ear, voice rough. “show me.”

You whimpered restlessly, grinding down against the bulge beneath you. His fingers finally brushed your folds gently, exploring. The moment he tried to press one thick finger inside, you tensed, a small sound of discomfort escaping.

Jeon froze instantly, pulling back. “too much?”

You shook your head quickly, grabbing his wrist, but another attempt made you flinch again.

He cursed softly, then shifted you so you were straddling him, your soaked pussy resting against the hard line of his clothed cock. Both his hands settled on your hips, holding you steady but not forcing.

“Look at me,” he said, voice low and commanding. “How are you going to take my cock, hm? If you can’t even handle one finger?”

You whimpered, hips rolling desperately against him, silently begging. Your hands clutched his shoulders, needy and impatient.

Jeon’s eyes darkened. He reached between you, gently spreading your folds with two fingers, exposing your pussy to his hungry gaze for the first time. His breath hitched.

“Fuck… so pretty,” he groaned quietly, thumb brushing just above your clit. “Been dreaming about this for months. This soft little pussy… all mine.”

You grew shy under his intense stare, trying to close your thighs, but he held them open, firm yet gentle. “Don’t hide from me, angel. Let me see.”

He lowered you onto your back on the bed, then moved between your spread thighs. You were completely exposed to him now, your pretty, glistening pussy on full display.

He leaned in close, hot breath ghosting over your folds. Slowly,he blew a soft stream of air across your sensitive lips, watching with dark fascination as they fluttered and clenched from the cool sensation. A low, hungry sound rumbled in his chest.

His mouth watered at the sight. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

He pressed a slow, open mouthed kiss directly to your pussy, lips soft against your slick folds. Then his tongue dragged through you in one long, hot stripe from your entrance up to your swollen clit, tasting you properly for the first time. The moan that tore from his throat was deep and filthy, vibrating straight against your core.

You gasped sharply, hips jerking hard. The sensation was overwhelming. his warm, wet tongue too much. Instinctively, you tried to close your thighs, tried to squirm away from the intense pleasure, but Jeon’s strong hands gripped tighter, pinning your legs open wide.

He kissed your folds like he was devouring something sacred and soft, wet sounds filling the room as he sucked gently on your clit, then pushed his tongue inside you, fucking you with it in shallow, teasing strokes.

You writhed beneath him, restless and overwhelmed, small desperate whimpers spilling from your lips. Your hands pushed at his shoulders, thighs trembling violently in his iron grip as the pleasure bordered on too much. Every slow lick, every suck, every time his tongue curled inside you sent sparks shooting up your spine. You were so sensitive, so needy after years of nothing, that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

Jeon groaned deeply, the taste of you driving him insane. “So fucking sweet… dripping all over my tongue. taste so fucking good for me.”

When your moans grew higher, he finally slid one thick finger inside, careful, curling gently once he was past the initial tightness. This time your body accepted him, clenching around the intrusion while his tongue continued working your clit.

You were dripping, restless, hips lifting impatiently.

Jeon pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening. “That’s it… taking my finger so well now.”

He added a second finger, scissoring slowly, stretching you open while his mouth returned to suck on your clit. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming until you shattered, whimpering his name again and again, thighs shaking around his head

only when you were trembling and boneless did he finally pull back, kissing your inner thighs gently, eyes soft yet burning with possessive need.

Jeon sat up at the corner of the bed, his cock straining painfully against the last barrier of his boxers. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and shoved them down, freeing his thick, heavy length, the flushed head already glistening with pre cum. He stroked himself once, watching you with dark, hooded eyes.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, voice low and commanding, dripping with filthy intent.

You obeyed without a word, body still buzzing, crawling across the sheets on shaky limbs until you were between his spread thighs. The sight of his massive cock so close made your mouth water. You had been starved for him for so long.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, lips parting as you took the thick head into your mouth, sucking greedily.

Jeon groaned deep in his chest, one hand gently threading into your hair. “Fuck… that’s it. look at you. Been dreaming about these pretty lips wrapped around me.”

You sucked him deeper, tongue swirling around the head, desperate and eager. Your cheeks hollowed as you took as much as you could, soft whimpers vibrating around his length. He was so big your jaw already ached, but you didn’t stop.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice rough. “Sucking me so sweetly... just like that.”

You moaned around him, sucking harder, one small hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The hunger in your eyes made his cock twitch against your tongue.

After a few minutes, Jeon gently tugged you off, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. His gaze was dark but careful.

“Enough, baby. Come up here.” He patted his thighs. “Sit on me. I want you to take it at your own pace. It’s going to stretch you a lot… okay?”

His voice low and serious, eyes searching yours. “You sure this is what you want? we can stop anytime. Tell me it’s okay.”

You nodded, restless and aching, climbing into his lap.

Straddling his thick thighs, you hovered over his massive cock, the blunt head nudging your soaked entrance. You were dripping, thighs slick with your own arousal, but the size still looked impossible.

Jeon’s hands rested lightly on your hips, not pushing, just steadying. “Easy, angel. whenever you’re ready. only if you want it.”

You sank down slowly. The thick head pushed inside, stretching you open with a burning pressure that made you gasp. You only managed a couple of inches before the discomfort bordered on pain. You whimpered, pausing, body trembling as you struggled to take more.

“Fuck… so tight,” Jeon groaned, jaw clenched, fighting the urge to thrust up. “does it hurt, baby? we can stop...”

You shook your head quickly, desperately sinking a little deeper despite the sting. Halfway down and you were already full, barely half his cock inside you, your walls clenching hard around the thick intrusion. The stretch was intense, but the heat and fullness made you even wetter, arousal dripping down his shaft.

Jeon’s hands tightened on your hips, eyes flicking between your face and where you were joined. “breathe for me, baby... you’re doing so good… taking me so well.”

You whined, restless and impatient, trying to push down further but struggling. The pain lingered, sharp and deep.

“Shh, angel. Let me take over now,” he said softly, dominant tone wrapping around you. “I’ve got you.”

He gripped your hips more firmly, holding you steady. With careful, controlled rolls of his own hips, he worked himself deeper, relentless thrusts that pushed another inch, then another. You cried out as the burn intensified, tears pricking your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. You wanted all of him.

“Almost there, baby… just a little more,” he murmured, voice strained with restraint. “you’re clenching so fucking tight around me. Relax for me… let me fill you up.”

With one last gentle but firm push, Jeon sank the rest of his thick cock inside you. The stretch was excruciating at first, pain blooming sharp and hot as your walls were forced to accommodate every inch of his huge length. You whimpered brokenly, feeling impossibly full, like he was splitting you open.

Jeon stilled completely once he bottomed out, buried to the hilt. His hands stroked your back soothingly, voice soft and reassuring even as his cock throbbed inside you.

“There you go… all the way in. You took every inch. Such a good girl for me.” He kissed your temple, staying perfectly still to let you adjust.

Slowly, the burning stretch eased into a heavy, throbbing fullness. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him as the discomfort melted into deep, aching pleasure. Jeon stayed buried deep, hands gentle on your skin, waiting patiently until your whimpers turned into soft, needy sounds and your hips began to move restlessly again.

He could feel the way your sensitive little pussy gripped him so tightly it bordered on painful for both of you.

“Fuck, angel… look at that,” he murmured, voice low. He shifted you carefully, laying you back on the bed and hooking your legs over his elbows, folding you open wider so he could see everything. His dark eyes dropped between your bodies, watching with raw hunger as your slick walls clenched visibly around the base of his cock. “pretty pussy sucking me in so greedily. Clenching like it never wants to let me go.”

You cried out softly, overwhelmed tears slipping down your temples. The stretch was still intense, but the fullness felt too good to stop. Your hips twitched restlessly beneath him.

“Jeon…” you whimpered, voice breaking for the first time again, needy and begging. “more… please…”

The sound of your voice finally saying his name like that hit him like a drug. Jeon’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening with possessive hunger.

He had waited so long to hear you, and now every soft whimper and broken plea made his cock throb harder inside you.

He started slow at first, gentle rolls of his hips, sliding his thick length in and out with careful control, kissing your tear streaked cheeks and murmuring soft praises against your skin. “That’s it, angel. Taking me so well… my good girl.”

But your desperate little whimpers kept fueling him. “More… please...”

Jeon lost control, his hips snapping forward harder, driving his massive cock deep into your tight heat with rough, punishing thrusts. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin filled the room as he fucked you deeper, faster, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every brutal stroke.

You cried out, tears streaming down your face, but you took every inch, whimpering his name over and over like a prayer.

Jeon loved it. Loved the sound of your voice breaking for him. It drove him wild until he was growling against your neck.

He pounded into you relentlessly, hips slamming against yours, the bed creaking under the force. His thick cock stretched you open again and again, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as he drove himself deeper.

Jeon was losing control.

After months of never touching you, only watching, only respecting the sacred line you had drawn, the hunger finally broke him.

His hand slid up your body, large palm wrapping around your throat with firm, possessive pressure. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch and your pulse race under his fingers. He held you there, thumb pressing lightly against the side of your neck, feeling every frantic beat of your heart.

One hand slid between your bodies, thumb rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit. The pressure built fast and overwhelming.

Your pussy clenched violently around him, walls fluttering and squeezing so tightly it almost hurt. You came hard, squirting around his cock with a broken cry, clear fluid soaking his abs and the sheets beneath you.

The sight and feel of you falling apart pushed Jeon over the edge as he groaned, voice strained and intense. He buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he released deep inside you, thick ropes of cum flooding your spasming pussy.

Even as he came, he kept kissing you softly, on your lips, your cheeks, your tear damp lashes, whispering affectionate praises between heavy breaths.

“my perfect girl… I love you. So fucking much. You’re mine now… all mine.”

He stayed buried deep, holding you close as both of you trembled through the aftershocks, his cock still twitching inside your cum filled, sensitive pussy.

Jeon’s breathing was ragged, chest heaving against yours. He stayed perfectly still for a long moment, savoring the way your walls fluttered weakly around him. Then his hand came up, large palm cupping your tear streaked face with heartbreaking gentleness. His thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the wetness, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched and your breaths mingled.

His dark eyes searched yours, “I don’t want you to call me Jeon anymore,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low, almost trembling with the weight of it. “Not tonight. Not ever again.”

He swallowed hard, thumb stroking your bottom lip as if memorizing the shape of your silence.

“I want you to call me Jungkook.”

The name hung between you like a confession. His eyes were burning with something deeper, something that had been growing since the night you first crashed into him in that dim hallway. Since the first time your fearful, sad eyes had locked onto his across a smoky club and refused to let go.

“I’ve waited so long to hear my name on your lips,” he continued softly, voice cracking. “Every time you danced for me… every time you looked at me like I was the only man in the world… I wanted this. I wanted you to say it like you just did when you were falling apart around me. Like I’m yours.”

He pressed a slow, reverent kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your eye, tasting the salt of your tears.

“You’re my home now, angel. I’d burn everything down again just to keep you safe… just to keep hearing you whisper my name like that.”

You lay beneath him, still impossibly full of him, body aching in the most delicious, overwhelming way.

Your mind was a quiet storm, confused and unsure of the depth of what you felt for this man who had quietly claimed every piece of your guarded heart without ever forcing his way in.

You didn’t know if this was love yet.

But you knew comfort. you knew home.

You had never known anything like the way he gently held you now, even after he had ruined you so thoroughly, protective even when he was buried to the hilt inside you.

No one had ever made the fear quiet down like this. No one had ever made the sadness feel bearable just by looking at you like you were something precious.

Your fingers trembled as they traced the line of his jaw. You didn’t speak as words still felt too heavy, but your eyes said enough. They stayed locked on his, soft and uncertain, yet warm with the quiet realization that this man had become your safe place.

Jeon smiled, soft and impossibly tender, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against your mouth, the plea wrapped in velvet and steel. “Let me keep you.”

Jeon’s fingers kept tracing slow patterns along your spine, his breath warm against your temple. The silence between you felt heavier now, full of everything still unsaid.

After a long while, you finally spoke. Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, hoarse from all the whimpers and moans he had drawn out of you tonight.

“…Jungkook.”

His entire body stilled. The name left your lips like a secret finally set free, hesitant and uncertain, but real. His arms tightened around you instantly, a shaky exhale escaping him as if he had been waiting years just to hear it again.

You didn’t say anything more. You didn’t need to. In that single word, you had given him the only thing you had left to offer, the quiet acknowledgment that he was no longer just the man who watched you from the shadows.

He was yours now, too.

Jeon pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, breathing you in like you were oxygen.

The room fell quiet again, filled only with the sound of your mingled breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond the estate walls. He stayed inside you, holding you close, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

You still didn’t know if this feeling in your chest was love.

But for the first time in your life, the silence felt like it could hold something beautiful.

Something that might last.

«an: im sorry you guys i actually suck at writing and wrapping up oneshots unless its like atleast 25k words or just pure smut. but mafia jk is so hot i need himmm ugh

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

gl00s

In Plain Sight • JJK x Reader

ongoing | chapter4

in which...

namjoon's younger sister has been beside bts since their trainee days. everyone treats her like family. everyone except jungkook, because somewhere between endless bickering, shared beds after exhausting schedules, hidden midnight conversations... things stopped feeling platonic. unfortunately for them, the internet notices first.

pairing: idol!jungkook x y/n

warning/genre: fluff | friends to lovers slow burn idol!au clingy jungkook | reader&jungkook are annoying asf| they are very intimate

teaser | chapter1 | chapter2 | chapter3 | chapter4

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆𓂃🖊

Chapter4

Filming ended far later than expected.

By the time the final camera finally shut off, everyone looked half dead. Staff members dragged themselves through the building carrying wires and clipboards while makeup artists leaned against walls with the exhausted expressions of people reconsidering their careers.

Outside, Seoul had already fallen into darkness. Only the harsh white lights of the filming set still remained painfully bright.

And somehow, Hoseok still had energy. Honestly, it was becoming medically concerning at this point. “Okay!” he announced brightly while clapping his hands together once. “Group dinner.”

“No,” Yoongi answered immediately without even looking up from his phone. “I want to go home.”

“Yes,” Hoseok replied smoothly. “And home is wherever I am.”

“That sounded inspirational,” Y/N muttered tiredly while removing an earpiece. “Unfortunately, nobody asked.”

Hoseok gasped dramatically. “You wound me.”

A laugh escaped Jin somewhere behind them while Jungkook snorted quietly beside Y/N.

_____

The group eventually made their way out of the building together, exhaustion hanging heavily over everyone now that filming adrenaline had finally worn off.

The summer night air felt cool against overheated skin.

Cars passed slowly through glowing streets while neon signs reflected across the sidewalks.

For a while, nobody spoke much. Just quiet walking. Comfortable silence.

By the time they reached the restaurant, the streets had grown quieter.

The place Hoseok chose was small and warm, hidden between narrow streets with dim hanging lights and the soft smell of grilled meat filling the air. Almost immediately, the mood shifted.

Shoes loosened beneath tables, jackets abandoned over chairs and shoulders relaxed. Food always did that to them.

Conversation flowed naturally after that, drifting between topics with no real direction. Stage concepts, lyrics, upcoming performances and someone else complaining about lack of sleep.

To anyone listening nearby, the conversations might’ve sounded strange, talking about comeback themes and stage transitions over grilled meat like it was the most normal dinner conversation in the world. But for them, it was normal. It had been for years.

Meanwhile, Jungkook kept stealing fries off Y/N’s plate.

Y/N narrowed her eyes immediately after catching him for the fourth time. “Get your own.”

“These taste better.”

“They’re literally the same fries.”

Still, despite her complaining, she pushed the plate slightly closer toward him afterward without even thinking about it. Jungkook noticed immediately. But wisely chose not to mention it.

Across the table, Hoseok suddenly froze mid-bite. Slowly, suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. Then he pointed dramatically across the table like he’d just uncovered government corruption.

“Why,” he said slowly, “did you two order drinks for each other?”

Silence.

On the table sat Jungkook’s kombucha beside Y/N’s plate and Y/N’s iced americano beside Jungkook. A pause followed. The two without speaking slowly gave each other their drink.

Then Seokjin pointed at them accusingly while shaking his head in disappointment. “Very unnecessary. Kids these days.”

“It’s cute,” Hoseok giggled immediately before reaching over to pat both Jungkook and Y/N on the head affectionately.

Y/N instantly brushed his hand away. “It’s normal,” she argued. “Not cute.”

Even Yoongi glanced up from his food with visible amusement in his eyes.

The dinner continued after that, conversations bouncing wildly between nonsense and serious topics without warning. At one point, Hoseok passionately argued about stage lighting.

At another, Taehyung insisted he could survive inside the wilderness despite overwhelming evidence suggesting otherwise.

Even Yoongi eventually started laughing at his own jokes, which honestly meant everyone had officially become delirious from exhaustion.

And somewhere between all the noise and laughter, Namjoon found his attention drifting.

Not toward the conversation.

Toward Y/N.

And Jungkook.

Specifically, toward the way Jungkook sat beside her with one arm thrown lazily across the back of her chair, sitting too close. The way Y/N absentmindedly stole food from his plate without asking.

The way neither of them seemed aware of how naturally they gravitated toward each other.

Namjoon had known Jungkook almost as long as he’d known himself. He practically helped raise him. And Y/N —

Y/N was his little sister.

No matter how old she got, some part of Namjoon still saw the 10 year old girl who cried over every stray cats and followed him everywhere.

Which was why the Instagram comment he’d accidentally read earlier kept replaying in his head. ‘Y/N and Jungkook are either married with 5kids or they’re both gay. No in between.’

Now, watching them together across the table, he suddenly understood why people said things like that. Because they were close. Painfully close.

Not just physically. It was deeper than that. 12 years of shared memories had created something strangely inseparable between them. Inside jokes nobody else understood. Silent habits. Unconscious gestures.

The kind of closeness built slowly over years until it became impossible to tell where one person ended and the other began , and Namjoon wasn’t stupid.

If anything, he noticed too much. He’d seen the way Jungkook automatically looked for Y/N in crowded rooms. The way Y/N instinctively turned toward Jungkook first whenever something happened.

The way they reached for each other without thinking.

He just… Never let himself think too deeply about it before. Because they had always been like this. But now?

Now he found himself painfully aware that feelings never stay the same forever, and maybe that possibility unsettled him more than he expected.

Namjoon’s thoughts abruptly stopped when someone nudged his shoulder lightly.

Yoongi.

Without looking up from his drink, he spoke calmly. “Don’t think about it too much.” Namjoon stared at him.

Yoongi finally glanced toward him briefly. “You’ll just confuse yourself more.”

For a second, Namjoon genuinely wondered if Yoongi could read minds.

⸻

After dinner, everyone slowly split off in different directions. Some headed home immediately. Others still had schedules.

Namjoon walked beside Y/N quietly through the cooler night streets afterward, carrying both his bag and hers in one hand while guiding her absentmindedly away from incoming pedestrians with the other.

Y/N, meanwhile, had clearly turned her brain off completely after eating. Which meant she’d started rambling.

“Oh — and mom called earlier,” she said suddenly while walking beside him. “She said you never call her anymore.” Namjoon sighed softly. “That’s not true.”

“That’s literally what she said.”

“I called two days ago.”

“She said that doesn’t count.”

Namjoon snorted quietly.

Y/N continued talking without pause. “I tried defending you but Jungkook stole my phone halfway through the call and started talking to her himself.”

Her brows furrowed slightly in betrayal. “I barely got five minutes with my own mother.”

Namjoon laughed under his breath. “I’ll call her once we get to your apartment.”

Satisfied immediately, Y/N nodded before continuing her completely unrelated story about Taehyung nearly setting off a fire alarm earlier.

Namjoon listened quietly beside her, occasionally steering her away from walking directly into signposts.

Some things never changed.

⸻

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

By nine in the morning, Y/N wandered half-asleep into the makeup room carrying:

one curling iron, Jimin’s jacket, her charger, and Jungkook’s huge ass wallet for reasons even she didn’t understand.

“Morning,” she mumbled sleepily.

One of the makeup artists looked up once before laughing.

“You look dead.”

“Thank you.”

“It was a compliment.”

“Appreciated.”

Across the room, Namjoon sat getting his makeup done while reading comeback notes off his tablet. Y/N walked past him absentmindedly before pausing just long enough to fix the crooked collar of his hoodie automatically. Then she placed his coffee beside him.

Namjoon didn’t even look up anymore “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Everything around them moved in complete chaos afterward. Stylists rushed through hallways. Managers yelled schedules into phones. Someone lost an earring. Someone else lost their sanity.

Normal.

During rehearsal break, Y/N sat cross-legged near the stage checking outfit lists when Namjoon appeared beside her holding two water bottles. “Here.”

She accepted it immediately.

“You’re my favorite brother.”

Namjoon raised one eyebrow. “I’m your only brother.”

Y/N stared thoughtfully at the bottle.

“…That explains a lot actually.”

Namjoon looked genuinely offended while she laughed loudly beside him.

⸻

Later, somewhere between rehearsals and panic, Y/N found herself standing in the hallway fixing a rip in Jungkook’s sweater after Jimin accidentally destroyed it during practice.

“Hold still,” she muttered while trying to fix the stitching quickly. “I am still.”

“You’re literally vibrating.”

“I have energy,” Jungkook replied in a duh tone while absentmindedly playing with the drawstring hanging from her hoodie.

Y/N slapped his hand away instantly. “You’re making me violent.”

Jungkook grinned unapologetically.

Behind them, Jimin suddenly appeared holding iced coffees. “One for Y/N.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “You understand me emotionally.” She fluttered her eyelashes dramatically while accepting the drink.

“I understand your caffeine addiction,” Jimin corrected before pinching her cheeks affectionately. Y/N frowned immediately, rubbing her face afterward in betrayal.

Beside her, Jungkook looked deeply offended. “You didn’t bring me one.” Jimin shrugged casually. “Share with Y/N.”

The effect was immediate. Jungkook’s entire expression brightened. Meanwhile, Y/N looked horrified. “Fuck no.”

Jungkook gasped loudly. Then, without hesitation, “Namjoon hyung!” he shouted dramatically down the hallway. “Your sister is cursing at me again!”

______

By eight that night, the company building still showed no signs of slowing down.

The hallways remained crowded with stylists rushing between dressing rooms, managers speaking rapidly into phones, and exhausted staff members surviving purely on caffeine and determination.

Music echoed faintly through the walls from nearby practice rooms while garment bags and makeup kits littered nearly every corner of the floor. Comeback season turned the entire building into organized chaos.

And somehow, Y/N always ended up directly in the center of it. Currently, she was attempting to escape down the hallway with three clothing hangers hooked over one arm and her tablet balanced dangerously in her hand.

Unfortunately for her, Taehyung caught the sleeve of her sweater before she made it more than three steps.

“You promised to help me choose accessories,” he complained dramatically, clinging onto her. Y/N kept walking anyway, dragging him with her. “I have work, Tae.”

“I am your work,” he argued immediately.

“You are my biggest workplace problem.”

Taehyung gasped loudly in fake offense.

Before Y/N could continue escaping, Jimin suddenly appeared beside them seemingly out of nowhere. “I also need help.”

Y/N stared at both of them for a long moment. Then quietly whispered to herself, “Oh my God.” The exhaustion in her voice made Jimin laugh immediately.

“You’re our stylist,” he reminded sweetly while throwing an arm around her shoulders. “This is literally your job.”

“My job description never mentioned emotional suffering.”

“Then HR lied to you.”

Taehyung nodded seriously. “Happens all the time.”

Within minutes, Y/N somehow found herself trapped inside one of the dressing rooms with both Taehyung and Jimin arguing over jewelry like world peace depended on it.

Accessories covered nearly every surface. Silver chains tangled together across the table. Rings scattered everywhere. Three different pairs of sunglasses abandoned near the mirrors.

Meanwhile, Y/N sat slouched in a chair with the exhausted posture of someone mentally leaving her body.

Jimin held up another necklace hopefully. “What about this one?”

Y/N glanced at it once.

“Too elegant.”

“Okay…” Jimin slowly swapped it out for another. “Then this?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes immediately. “You look like a pirate.”

Taehyung gasped dramatically from across the room.

“That’s fashion.”

“And it’s clearly dying,” Y/N shot back instantly.

Jimin collapsed laughing against her shoulder while Taehyung looked personally betrayed. “You people have no artistic vision.”

Taehyung continued digging through accessories before suddenly grabbing a random pair of black sunglasses off the table. Before Y/N could react, he shoved them directly onto her face.

She blinked slowly beneath the tinted lenses. “…Why.”

Taehyung stepped back to admire his work proudly. “You look cool.”

“I look depressed.”

“No,” Jimin disagreed immediately while grinning at her reflection in the mirror nearby. “You look like you’re about to reject paparazzi questions.”

Y/N sighed deeply. At this point, she no longer had enough energy to argue. So the sunglasses stayed on.

And somehow, twenty minutes later, she was still wearing them while walking through the building carrying outfit racks and iced coffee like a sleep deprived celebrity avoiding public attention.

Every now and then, she’d pass a mirror and briefly catch sight of herself, her Fear of God hoodie that Jimin bought for her a week ago which she always wore at work, messy hair, sunglasses indoors at eight o’clock at night. A tired sigh escaped her each time before she continued walking again.

Nobody in the building even questioned it anymore. Not after ten plus years.

⸻

By the time schedules finally ended, everyone looked exhausted enough to collapse where they stood. Which was probably why Jungkook casually suggested they all come over to his apartment afterward and mostly because he happened to be living alone at the moment.

Also partially because none of them seemed emotionally prepared to separate yet after spending the entire day together.

So less than an hour later, seven exhausted men and one equally exhausted stylist occupied Jungkook’s living room like they paid rent there.

The apartment itself felt warm and lived in despite the late hour. Dim lighting glowed softly from the kitchen.

Shoes had already been abandoned near the entrance. Half-empty drinks covered the coffee table. Somebody had stolen Jungkook’s blanket approximately three minutes after arriving.

Namjoon sat stretched across one couch scrolling quietly through his phone while Seokjin and Taehyung loudly argued over game controls near the television. “You cheated!”

“I literally won fairly.”

“That’s exactly what a cheater would say.”

Meanwhile, Hoseok and Jimin sat together on the floor laughing uncontrollably over something on Instagram. Every few seconds, Hoseok would dramatically grab Jimin’s arm while wheezing louder.

Y/N sat cross-legged beside Jungkook near the opposite end of the couch wearing one of his black shirts she immediately changed to once they got inside his house.

Jungkook immediately knew that he won’t get it back anymore. The shirt honestly belonged to her now.

Jungkook leaned back comfortably against the couch while half paying attention to Taehyung and Seokjin’s ongoing argument. Occasionally, he’d throw in comments just to make things worse. Which, naturally, he enjoyed.

Beside him, Y/N looked half asleep already. One hand lazily scrolled through her phone while the other rested against the couch cushion beside her knee.

Every now and then, she’d mumble quiet comments toward the ongoing game argument without even looking up. “Seokjin’s winning.”

“I hate you,” Taehyung replied instantly.

“Truth hurts.”

A soft laugh escaped Jungkook under his breath.

Then, sometime later, during another loud argument about whether Taehyung was “sabotaging the game emotionally,” Y/N shifted slightly beside Jungkook laying her head on his shoulder. The movement was small. Natural. Something she’d done a hundred times before.

Still, Jungkook stopped talking for just a second. Only a second. But enough to notice the sudden warmth against his side.

Enough to notice the familiar scent of her shampoo lingering softly in the air. Enough to feel that strange tight feeling appear in his chest again.

Recently, moments like this had started affecting him more than they should, and he still didn’t understand why.

Beside him, Y/N remained completely unaware, already half focused on whatever Seokjin was yelling about now.

Slowly, casually, Jungkook rested his arm across her legs. Natural. Easy. Normal.

At least, that’s what he immediately told himself. ‘We’ve always done this. It’s normal.’

Then why did his heartbeat suddenly feel slightly uneven anyway?

Across the room, Namjoon glanced up briefly from his phone. His eyes landed on the two of them for exactly one second before he quietly looked away again. Like he saw nothing.

But Yoongi, sitting silently near the kitchen island with a whiskey in his hand, noticed the entire thing. Of course he did.

Yoongi noticed everything.

He just never said anything about it.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆𓂃🖊

A/N : Hello pretty people🤩. Hope your day was good. I can’t thank you all enough, I still can’t believe there are people out there who actually like what i write☹️, even though it’s kinda messy and my grammar is really off. I hope you all find a man excatly like your bias.

Also i appreciate feedbacks, correction, ideas and anything else

my fav chapter so far because of namjoon😛

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

ceo jungkook x employee y/n

angst, fluff, smut

>20k

one single company ran your entire country. seven divisions, one board - together, they held more power than any government or monarch could ever dream of. they had a hand in politics, finance, even the quiet corners of day-to-day life. this wasn’t a secret, not really. everyone knew, but no one dared question it. after all, the seven ceos were fair. firm. honest. that alone made them saints in comparison to the politicians that came before.

first came the division of research and development, run by kim namjoon, a visionary scientist who blurred the lines between progress and godhood. his creations redefined innovation, and his mind was the quiet hum behind every major breakthrough.

second, the division of finance and trade. min yoongi dictated the flow of wealth across the nation, calm and calculating. every coin, every market, every debt - it all passed through his hands first. some said he ran the black markets too, but no one had proof. no one needed it.

then came the division of public relations and media. kim seokjin was elegance in human form, the man with a smile so unassuming it could soothe riots. he shaped narratives to his liking, turning chaos into calm.

the division of human resources and influence followed, with jung hoseok at the top. on paper, he maintained order within the company’s workforce. beneath the surface, he held secrets powerful enough to destroy careers with a single admission.

park jimin oversaw the division of marketing and strategy. he was the company’s soul, charming and ruthless all at once. every expansion, every campaign, every brand built to perfection, it all came from his desk, signed with his signature grin.

then there was kim taehyung, head of global development and real estate. the quiet conqueror. cities thrived beneath his fingers, and when they did, he owned them - buildings, streets, and all.

and finally, jeon jungkook. the youngest of them all, and yet somehow, the most feared. he ran the division of security and intelligence. his jurisdiction covered surveillance, military contracts, information control. he was the ghost in every system, the eyes behind every camera. brute force personified.

all seven men had clawed their way up from the dirt, building empires from blood and ambition. but it was jungkook who had the most to gain with nothing to lose. he had no family, no friends beyond his colleagues, no lover waiting for him at home. he lived and breathed the company.

until you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

mafia boss jungkook x mafia boss daughter y/n

arranged marriage, yearning, SMUT, corruption kink go brrr

>14k

—

you had been prepping for marriage since the day you could walk.

being the daughter of the east mob’s leader meant you were good for only one thing, and that was alliance. you weren’t taught about marriage like the other girls in your life, no, you were taught omission. obedience. complete and entire control given to you by your husband, and not a single other. you needed to know how to sit up straight without fidgeting, cook meals for multiple families, how to smile without being overbearing or even speak in tones of submission.

you were bred to marry.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

ohhowjooniewept

obsessive best friend jungkook x y/n

obsession, yearning, smut

>10k

—

jungkook was undeniably your closest friend. you two came as a pair, packaged tightly together and wrapped in clingfilm. you’d known each other since you were both ten, sat together in primary school, stealing glances at one another as though the intrigue you both kept could hardly make either of you look away. the boy had won your heart in a flash when he offered his banana milk to you after punching the horrible boy that kept bullying you, all whilst offering you a big toothy grin.

he came shopping with you, standing outside of changing rooms with crossed arms and big biceps, analysing every short little skirt and blouse. he’d sit beside you in all of your classes, helping you with your note taking, buying you special highlighters so you could make them prettier. and at parties? jungkook would stand, arm around your waist, eyes shooting daggers at any man that tried to even think about coming near you whilst he took care of you.

you see, jungkook being your best friend was indeed undeniable. the other undeniable fact? he was utterly, completely and entirely in love with you.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

jeonette

focus or fuck me — 정국

in which your nerd boyfriend attempts to help you study for an upcoming examination. but unfortunately him, his glasses and the fact that you’re ovulating is getting in the way, big time.

pairing : nerd!jungkook x fem!oc

warnings : bigdick!jungkook, he’s a big talker, he’s a dom but he switches the moment he finds out she wants to take control, so kinda sub!koo ( jus a lil tho ) yearning koo, they both beg for each other, titty worshipping, she gives him head and he’s absolutely whipped for her, koo’s a big talker and he loves her so much :( mentions of breeding, breeding kink, he cums in her ( wrap it uppp )

a/n : jus a lil drabble I whipped up yesterday ;)) trust me on this and loop the song 'glory box'. also literally say absolutely nothing about the law related questions im a law major so this was the first thing I thought of & if anything is wrong.. don’t even… im crying in college enough 😢. LOL jk. happy reading! x

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

dreamersparacosm

jeon jungkook - the boy is mine

warnings ; this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall..

prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.

a/n ; i mean, this is absolute whore behavior on my end and i have no words. beware this is long AS A MOTHERFUCKER. and so much plot. enjoy. also this is college!jk and reader so WOO (also loosely based on the boy is mine - arianaaaa)

Some people were just meant to be in the background.

Or, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for quite some time now.

You were the kind of person who blended into the background, voice barely rising above a whisper when spoken to, presence often slipping unnoticed into corners of rooms. Some days were spent in Yonsei University’s prestigious library, buried in books, worlds that didn’t require attention, where the characters spoke louder than you dare would. It wasn’t that you minded, though — you were content to remain in the quiet… well, as long as your best friend, Seo-yeon, shone like a star in the midst of it all.

Nevertheless, there were times when her shine cast a shadow, and that light felt a little too harsh. You didn’t mind when Seo-yeon needed a shoulder to lean on, but lately it seemed like all she did was lean — never giving anything in return. And you tried to brush it off, scolding your brain it’s just the pressure of her rich father but deep down, you could not shake the feeling that Seo-yeon’s warmth was only reserved for someone else.

And that someone was your best friend since you were 10, Jeon Jungkook.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

dreamersparacosm

one more night ⟡ jjk

SUMMARY. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do girls. As the first son of the Jeon family, heir to more money than God, he’s spent thirty years being perfectly fine without them. He doesn’t have any desire to engage in frivolous rendezvouses like his friends, nor enter a situationship that will distract him from the title of CEO. That is, until his best friends drag him to a strip club for his birthday and a girl in red lingerie falls right into his lap, and well… there goes that ideology.

pairing. stripper!oc x virgin!jungkook

word count. 17.2k

warnings/genre. inexperienced!koo, virgin!koo, soft dom!oc, stripper!oc, everyone’s horny, male masturbation, public dry humping???, lap dancing, mention of slutting yourself out obv, jk steals oc’s panties, strip teasing, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), titty fucking, jungkook cums a LOT help, cowgirl

note. hi my pookietons! this was supposed to be out weeks ago but unfortunately my fiancé’s mom passed away and it has been a rough time in the household. luckily, things are starting to get back to normal and i’m trying to stay optimistic about things. writing has always been my outlet for my emotions, and having this community during this time has been such a blessing. i’m so grateful for you all and hope you enjoy this diabolical read 🤍

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| playlist

banner creds | masterlist

Jeon Jungkook has been seeing black for the past 25 minutes, and quite frankly, he’s fed up with the situation.

He was under the impression that his birthday meant doing what he wanted to do, not getting kidnapped by his six closest friends and getting tossed into a Cadillac for a ‘big birthday surprise.’ If Jungkook wanted a surprise for his birthday, he would’ve just asked his assistant to book out a restaurant of her choosing. Or done absolutely nothing, which was the original plan and, truthfully, a perfect one.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

jiminrings

how long will we fall

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it.

alternatively, jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

[ soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first), a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, reverse cards that make u cheer, redemption arc, i swear to u that this does not hurt as much as heartburn did ]

notes: i’m back with a big fic!!! :D this was originally supposed to be named something else but i realized that the title was Too Serious and u know what,,, ten listens later as i write this, i realized that i’m obsessed with this song that i received from this ask and wow thank u so much anon <33 although the rec isn’t originally for this fic, it fits perfectly and i can’t thank u enough <33

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

Keep reading

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

adonis-koo

Blue Spring

| 5 | Final

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there…Well…besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter…if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words…You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Word Count: 6k

Previous | ____

Tags: 🌚 rough manhandling, dom!jungkook, a lil jealousy in the beginning, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped kids), degradation kink, oral (f receiving), mc is a giggly shy sub, light spanking, Jungkook pretends to be mean but he’s really not, overstimulation, doggy style, a tiny size kink, fat cock!guk, hair pulling, pregnancy kink 🤑

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

You turned around as you chewed against your lip in uncertainty, Mina’s dainty little blue dress in your hands as Jungkook chuckled, letting his hand ruffle through your hair before he tenderly grabbed your shoulders, “My parents insisted, it’s only for the weekend and Mina loves disneyland. Don’t worry baby, she’ll have fun, it’ll be quality time for them.” Your lips quivered a little as you sighed.

Keep reading

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

joonam

proximity - chapter 15 | jjk

Pairing: Chaebol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: chaebol!au, conglomerate!au, non-idol, slow burn, angst, obsession.

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has everything from wealth, brains, and the reputation of the perfect heir. But behind all of that, he hides one secret: you.

Warnings: themes of stalking, dom! stuff, fluff, cursing, arguments etc etc, crying maybe? who's crying? me, obsession, and possessiveness.

Word count: 10k | Status: Completed

a/n: this is the last chapter of proximity. yes you read that right.. enjoy the ride <3

extra chapters: mini story pt 1 | mini story pt 2

taglist: @yooforeaa @magicalnachocreator @ennvfv @star-candyian @7karulla @nanmolla @misschelliejeon @mar-lo-pap @jggui @hotelcortezghost @jeonzll @adhderme @asyr97 @almatiarau @dna-black-and-blue @kooliv @cuntessaiii @khalhaimdad @jazzyb22 @llallaaa @senaqsstuff @guwol @svnk1ssd @muhhpfuuu @nbjch05 @thatgirliehan @ninisica @coree730 @apriljoon @annogesr @skylaarluu @ccoristu @lolfccfvvvvbbbb @cleverwastelandhottub @haangui @vantelover1306

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

joonam

right where you left me (pt 2) | jjk

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: exes to lovers, slow burn, reunion, regret, idol!au, second chances, long-distance.

Summary: One drunken kiss destroyed everything. A year after confessing his mistake, you and Jungkook met again in Tokyo. Right where you left me (part 2) follows the journey of Jungkook and y/n trying to find their way back to each other.

Word count: 6749

Warnings: cheating, jealousy, long-distance relationship, alcohol mentioned, breakup, regret, angst, sadness, FLUFF.

a/n: As requested by anon! I hope you like this part 2! and thank you for requesting this because I genuinely felt so happy writing this like I legit couldn’t stop writing HAHA. I needed to write something less angsty and this one was full of FLUFF and I loved writing it. Anyway, im OPEN for one-shot requests!! For now, enjoy this one! <3 check out my: masterlist

<< prev | part 1

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

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