#bts smut in part 2

[shadowofahope]

In Too Deep

Pairing: Kim Taehyung!xFemale Reader

Warning: swearing, crude language, mentions of fwb, and mentions of intimate sex

Premise: He's your brother's best friend, that's why you let things slide, but he's gone too far. He's crossed too many lines and now he had to accept that his regular excuses weren't good enough. One hell of a wake-up call to realize just how deep he was in.

word count: 4.1K

Authors notes: I had originally planned this one to contain smut, but no matter how I wrote it it didn't feel quite right. HOWEVER, if you all want a part two with the smut..... I am more than willing to indulge.

BTS Masterlist

Loud footsteps boom through your apartment as you throw the door open, heels flying off. Marching over to the couch and throwing your work bag down you spin around rage all but consuming you. Every breath coming out ragged, body trembling from sheer outrage. The man following behind you drags his feet, closing the door after you, head down sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

If he was going to act like a man-child at your workplace, unasked for might you add, he could at least take his consequences and the brutal chastising he was about to get like an adult. 

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” You can’t keep your voice calm, you can’t keep your mind calm. Everything in your being is ready to punch this beautiful man in his stupid beautiful face. 

He stands there silently, still not making eye contact. His shaggy hair covers your line of sight to his eyes. 

‘Coward’ your brain supplies you in his silence. 

“He wanted to sleep with you.” He eventually mutters out. 

Your mouth drops open. He did not just say that. Please lord help you, he did not just say that. 

“He wanted to…” Completely dumbfounded. This has to be the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. “...sleep with me”

“He was trying to get lucky. He was getting all handsy with you.” Finally finding his excuses, eyes coming to rest on yours. “I heard him bragging to his friend about how he was getting laid tonight. There was no way I was going to let a sleeze talk about you like that.”

This was his justification? THIS is why he caused a scene at your work? Almost getting into a fight with a customer and being escorted out by security. You had managed to talk to the owners of the club you work at and apologize profusely. Only a warning was given thankfully as you had been one of their favorite waitresses and hype dancers since starting over a year ago, bringing in a good chunk of regulars to their VIP lounge area. 

He had to be fucking joking right now. 

“First of all, you don’t get to tell me who I can and can't sleep with.” Your voice comes out like acid, finger pointing at him viciously. “Secondly, it’s my job to make them believe they have a chance. That's how they tip well and keep coming back. I was doing my job! And I was doing it well until you had to neanderthal your way into being almost on the permanent blacklist. Not to mention risking my job.”

Exasperation didn’t cut it. Pure imbridadled rage didn’t cut it. This was giving you a migraine. Trying to relieve some pain you rub at your temples. 

“If you don’t like what I’m doing then LEAVE.” You kindly gesture to the front door, eyes now closed due to the increasing throbbing. “My brother said it would be 4 days, why are you still here?” You were exhausted. He was exhausting. 

“Because we realized just how much you fool around, it’s not safe for you like this. We needed to keep an eye on you.” He tries to persuade you. Always trying to be the hero. Something’s never changed. You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt at passing blame.

“Who is we?” You bite back bitterly. 

“Your brother and I” 

“No. Hell no! My brother already knows what I do, he’s fine with it. Do not pin your weird hyperfixation of us being a family on me.” Great now you were full blown shouting at him. 

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m worried about you, you’re like a sister to me.” His small pleading means nothing to you. You’ve heard this excuse too many times before. 

“YOU’RE NOT MY BROTHER TAEHYUNG!” You scream at him, now turning away from him to walk away. Anything to give yourself room to breathe. 

“I understand you don’t see me as family but- I just want you to be safe. What if something bad happens? I don't understand why you’re being so reckless.” He chastises you as you stomp over toward your large bay window. 

“You know exactly why I do this!” You spin around at him. Your old nickname of Viper coming back full force. You wanted to tear his head off.

“Don’t make this my fault!” His aim at defending himself came out as an unconfident whine.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault! GOD!” Hands scratching at your skelp, you wanted to pull all of your hair out. These double standard rules were driving you crazy.  “I’m saying let me deal with rejection and heartbreak the way I want to! When Ari dumped you, you went on a gym binge for 3 months and opted for one night stands. When my brother was cheated on he never came out of his room for 6 months and slept with a previous ex. Everyone deals with it differently, so let me deal with it.”

“3 years. 3 years you’ve been messing around, never committing to a serious relationship. 3 years of your extreme recklessness. Why aren’t you over this by now?” He scoffs at you. Wait…did he just. The venom returned in full force.

“BECAUSE YOU WON’T LEAVE. I'VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR 9 YEARS! I FINALLY TELL YOU HOW I FELT AND YOU BRUSH ME OFF WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ASKED ME TO THINK ABOUT IT” You let everything out, right into his face, making short work of the room between you. All pent up rage over the years, all the resentment you had for him, as coming out in an almost hysteria. 

“We were only kids….”

“And I was dumb enough think I was special to you. I let myself fall for you and when you were finally 21 I told you my feelings and you said ‘we’re family’ and then introduced me to your girlfriend!” You scream, finally you were addressing it. Finally the elephant in the room was pointed out.  “Do you not understand how aggravating that is?”

“We-” 

“Every time I go home to see my brother and parents, you’re there. Every time my brother visits me, you’re there. I meet up with my brother, you're there. I meet up with our old friends YOU ARE THERE. And now I’ve finally gotten away and distanced myself from you…” You breathe shakily. “You show up at my door needing a place to stay for a couple days.”

“I can’t get over you if you’re in my life. I can’t forget you when every chance you get you meddle into my personal life. Your comments. Your judgements. The way you talk about me to your new friends.” You scoff at him, walking away again to look out of the same window as before. Muttering over your shoulder at his cheap pathetic expression.. “You think I want to keep loving someone who thinks so little of me?”

You laugh bitterly. Some sick joke this is. 

“You’re the one with the preconceived notions. You have no right to talk bad about the people I sleep with.” You can’t let yourself break yet. Not yet. Not when he’s looking at you with disbelief and the smallest hint of disgust. Your arms crossing over your chest, eyes narrowing at the outside world.  “Yes I have friends I occasionally sleep with, but they are still my FRIENDS. We have mutual respect for each other, which is something clearly you and I don’t have.”

You turn to look at him when you hear the floorboards creak under him, his steps heavy. Eyes ablaze with fury? Something you just said made him snap. But what the hell was it? 

“How do you think I feel having to defend you all the time? Most of the guys around town know who you are all because you can’t stop acting like a whore!” His dropping to the deepest parts of his chest. 

You stare at him in disbelief. All need to fight him is gone. You both drown in silence, his words sinking in.

“Get out.” You try to steady your voice. 

“Wait Y/N i didn’t mean-” He pleads.

“Didn’t mean to what Tae? Tell me you're embarrassed to have such a whore of a sister.” Your tongue feels like barbed wire in your mouth as it moves. 

“I-”

“Whatever you thought this was between you and me. Family. A stupid one-sided crush. We’re done. We are nothing anymore, understood?” You slowly walk over, every step in time to your words until you are directly in front of him. 

All he does is stand there, shock all over his face, eyes wide. If you didn’t know better it looked more like he was surprised at himself for saying it, then your reaction. You rip your eyes away from his stunned figure. Neglecting to think further then your need to leave, you stare at your front door.

“Now I’m going to tell you exactly what is going to happen. I’m heading over to Jimin and Hoseoks for the night. YOU are packing your stuff up and finding somewhere else to stay. You will be gone when I get back. And I will never speak to you again.” 

Pushing past him you don't say goodbye or anything else. No looking back to check on him. Slipping your bare feet into your sneakers you leave your apartment. 

‘Don’t break. Don’t break.’ You tell yourself over and over again as you make your way sprinting over to your friend's place. No phone, no keys, no wallet. Nothing, not like you’ll need it anyways. You continue your mantra until you're standing in front of their door, shaking. You’re holding on by a thread and it's not until the door opens and you’re confronted with Hoseok and Jimin’s concerned faces that you finally let yourself break down into a sobbing mess. Two pairs of arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you into the safety of their space. 

----------------------

“You called my sister a WHORE? Are you fucking kidding me Taehyung?!” Yoongi barrels into his living room from his office, upon hearing his best friend enter and fussing around in the kitchen. He had just gotten off the phone with Hoseok, who you had told everything to after you stopped crying and fell asleep. 

Out of nowhere Taehyung had showed up at his place a few days ago asking to stay there instead. Yoongi could tell something was wrong, but he was waiting patiently for one of you to explain it to him. Clearly he should have demanded answers sooner.

“It was an accident! It slipped out before I could think clearly.” Visibly shaken by the outburst, his eyes jump to the older, brain scrambled.

“You are so fucking dumb. I thought I knew how dumb you were, but it turns out you are on a whole nother level of stupidity.” Yoongi has always been calm, nothing really makes him raise his voice. Well nothing except things to do with his sister.

“I KNOW!” He can’t defend himself, not from you and definitely not from your brother. “I’m a fucking moron ok?!”

“Not ok. You’ve known her your entire life and somehow your empty fucking head neglects the fact that y/n sleeping around are RUMOURS.” 

“But she’s-”

“Sleeping with Hoseok and Jimin? Yes, but that’s it! Have you ever talked to these guys? Probably not because your ignorant ass cant see passed the fact that she’s actually fucking people.” He’s became friends with both of them soon after you had started spending all your time with them. 

You had started talking about them almost every time yoongi and you went out for dinner. They were obviously really special people in your life. So he had asked you about them, and you had smiled and said that you’d like them. To which that led them to meeting him in person. He easily found them bearable. Both with bright and positive personalities he could see why you had latched onto them. 

But he wasn’t stupid or blind and the three of you didn’t try to hide anything either.

“It’s not that I thought she wouldn’t. I was just mad that she wasn’t being careful. I just wanted her to find a nice guy and settle down! Is that so wrong?”  Taehyung truly believes every word he’s saying. He’s just looking out for you.

“Being careful? Settling down? How many one night stands have you had in the last 6 months Tae? How many relationships have you been in for the 3 years? Hell what about me?” Yoongi reasons with him. One thing he knows almost as much as his sister is his bestfriend. Even if his bestfriend is too blind to notice.“You don’t get to call my sister a whore just because you're jealous!”

“Jealous?”Taehyung hesitates, the wheels in his head turning. “Of what?”

“For fuck sakes Tae. I really hoped you would figure your shit out. You’re so fucking dense when it comes to Y/n.” 

The confusion sets in on his face, brows and nose scrunching. What was he dense about? What the hell was Yoongi on about. He wanted you to be safe. Be with someone who knew you, inside and out. Who could treasure you in every chance they’d get. Look after you when your anxiety got too much, knew what you’d need. Be ready to suffer at the end of your viper tongue, handling your blunt and independent demands. Reassure you that you are the most beautiful being in the universe. Someone that would check all the boxes of what you deserve from a partner. 

He had high expectations of who ever wanted to be with you, what was so wrong with that?

“You’re in love with her.” Yoongi fights himself not to smack Taehyung, when the others' eyes shoot to him in utter skepticism. “Don't give me any of the family bullshit you try to shove down her throat. It’s pathetic how hard you push it. You’re pissed because after all this time you are in love with her and she is doing her damned best to move on from you. Including fucking her friends.”

“But she’s your sister! And you’re my best friend! Of course I’d see her as my sister too.”

That wasn’t a proper rebuttal. Yoongi let’s it slide for now. Staring down Taehyung from across the kitchen. This man needed a wakeup call, and Yoongi was gonna give him a hell of a ride through actualization-vill. 

“You don’t get to use that as an excuse, just because she’s my sister. She’s my sister to worry about, not yours!” 

His immediate dismissal set Taehyung's jaw on edge. Shoulders tense, hands into fists before his own outburst, “How can you say that? I’ve always had your back when you were protecting her from those idiots trying to get with her. You’re extremely protective of her.”

“You’ve only had my back because it meant keeping other people away from her. Stop using me as an excuse for how you feel. I know my sister, better than anyone, just like I know you. Just admit it to yourself already.”

“I’m not-“ He can’t find the words. He can’t bring himself to. How was he supposed to make Yoongi see…

“Not what? Not in love with her… or not worth her love?” Yoongi sighs, eyes softening. Empathy now shining in them, he crosses the room to make his friend listen, to make him see. Hand coming to rest on the tallers shoulder.

“She-“

“She’s been in your life since you can remember. She’s the only female that has supported you 100% of the time, through every tough decision. She’s never once asked you to change. She’s never once demanded anything from you. She was there when your parents were fighting. She was there when you had surgery. She was there when you had no place to go. She was there when you needed someone to cry to.” His voice comes out calm again.

“…but she’s your sister and I’m-“ His last attempt barely is above a whisper.

“The one person that would make her truly happy. And that’s what I want for her. To be happy, besides if that makes my best friend happy too, that's a bonus. But you need to LET yourself accept this. No one is saying you can’t be in love with her or be with her. Only you are fighting this. Only you are telling yourself you can't have her when she’s right there, willing and wanting to be yours. Open your eyes Taehyung before she closes them for you forever.”

Patting his shoulder Yoongi leaves Taehyung alone in the kitchen, Taehyung watching him retreat back to his office. And for the first time he truly lets himself think about what Yoongi and you have said to him. So much conflict running through his mind and heart.

“Shit…” 

----------------------

Requested champagne in hand, black strappy heels clicking on the dark marbled tiles. Black leather shirt draping off your shoulders, body-con dress fitting you just right. Tonight was a Friday night, one of your busiest nights thankfully this was your last room of the night, once this party was done you could go home and snuggle into your fluffy blankets and cozy pajamas. Playing the part, skin aglow, welcome smile plastered on your makeup perfected face. Your 3rd Friday since you last saw Taehyung, your smile hides the pain you still felt but it was a welcome distraction nonetheless. 

You stall yourself in front of the VIP ROOM door. Deep breath. Shoulders back. Smile bright. 

You give the door a knock before entering. 

“Good evening Gentlemen, I have brought you the champagne you requ-” 

Lungs on fire, contradicting your now frozen body, eyes trained on the back of a single figure staring out at the rest of the club. His broad shoulders and shaggy hair, backlit by the lights from the stage and dance floor. Why did he have to look so agonizingly beautiful in his snug black slacks and silk dress shirt. Damnit, that was the same shirt you bought him a couple of birthdays ago. 

2 steps in the door, still you could run. You should run. 

You can’t run.

“What are you doing here?!” Finding your voice, it comes out a little more gravely then you had hoped. 

“I just want to talk” Sheepish warm brown eyes look at you, they take in your appearance. Your whole appearance. 

Music booms behind you through the open door, you barely can hear him. Regardless it still makes you itch, anger festering deep within you. 

“I told you we were done.” Thankfully your voice comes out firmer then you feel. Inside you can feel yourself slipping through your fingers already. Just by seeing him again.

“I know. I tried calling but you blocked my number and all of my social media.” He gives a nod, dead smile ghosting his lips momentarily. 

“I meant what I said.” You walk farther into the room, resolution sound as you place the glass bottle of the expensive liquid down on the frosted glass table. Glancing at it briefly, his favourite kind, you should have known.

“Please just let me explain-” He takes a hesitant step toward you.

“You explained yourself enough. Tae,” You exhale deeply.  “please. Just let it be done. I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

“I can’t-” His deep voice barely audible over the sound, but you can hear it break. “I can’t let you go”

Your head shakes involuntarily, failing to stop the tears from collecting in your eyes you turn away arms crossed over you, protecting what you could of your heart. “This isn’t fair Taehyung.”

Footsteps approach you, you’re hyper aware of his presence close behind you. “I know, I am the worst of the worst and I promise I’ll leave you alone but please just listen to what I have to say first? Please”

You reach out for the door, creating distance between you. One last chance to leave.

“You have 2 minutes” 

The door shuts, all the night life now muffled, softly placing yourself on the couch. Spine rigid, you wait eyes now on his overly anxious figure as he continues to stand. You can see the slight sweat on his temples now. Good, he's nervous. He should be.

“Thank you. Ok first I want to say I’m sorry for calling you.. that name… it was unjustified, and completely wrong of me to say that. You sleeping with 1 or 2, hell even 50 people doesn’t give me the right to demean you. And it was none of my business, regardless because yes. I am not your brother. I fooled myself into believing it. Pushing myself to only allow myself to see you as my sister when I asked you to think about what we were to each other. I was so afraid at the time you’d shut me down, and saying something about my adolescence factoring my love for you. Which was true. I was young and I so desperately wanted you to see me as a man but you said you’d let me know when I was older and I felt like I was being buried alive with guilt and rejection. Guilt for wanting my best friend's sister, guilt for possibly ruining the friendship the three of us had, guilt of possibly making you feel uncomfortable around me. So when that girl confessed to me I just said yes on a whim. Hoping I could maybe fall in love with her if I try really hard, as well as make myself fall out of love with you. I was so scared of what I asked of you and then of what I did. I pushed it down so well I truly believed I only loved you like a sister. But I could never stand idle when it came to you. Every event I wanted to be at to support you, every heartbreak I wanted to pummel those guys into the ground. I was so panicked every time Yoongi would tell me something about you and would always ask him ‘well what are we gonna do?’. I put myself on the front line, I tried to place myself between you and the world all while still believing I loved you like a sister. Like I should be doing, family. That’s what I always wanted from your brother and your parents. They felt like family to me, so you had to be too. But knowing now you are working in a place like this, where everyone can see you looking absolutely breathtaking, knowing that Jimin and Hoseok get to see you in a way that I never could. Something so vulnerable and intimate for their eyes only. That they were your friends. They get to have friendly banter, movie marathons, nights out, smart quips from your venomous tongue AND be with you like that. I’m sorry I talked badly about them, I know they mean so much to you. I had to understand, to pull myself away and think about it without my feelings getting in the way. Yoongi was right, I’ve been blind and stupid because of the fear I made up in my head. When I should have held you close I pushed you away and chained myself. But I’ve realized how I feel about you know, about us. And I know I’m years too late to give you an actual answer and I know I need to do better. I’m still immature and possessive and I don’t think things through all the way and I’m clearly terrible at communicating and I know I have to change and-“

“What do you feel now.” You cut him off. You maintain a neutral expression. He needed to say it before you made up your mind.

“You still want to know?” He chokes out, almost a whimper. 

“I’ve always known about your terrible personality Tae. This isn’t new, I’ve been around you long enough to see your relationships fall apart, remember? You don’t have to change, just grow, like you’re doing right now. If you change who you are completely then you aren’t you anymore, then who am I supposed to be in love with?” He needs to say it. “So tell me. Right now, how do you feel about me?”

“I love you. Not as a sister but as someone I want to be with. I am so idiotically In love with you that I detest myself for putting you through this pain.” It all tumbles from his mouth. “But I’m still scared.”

“Why?” No more excuses.

“What if you find out I’m not worth your love?”

“Taehyung. If I thought that I would have stopped years ago. I’m in too deep.” You give him a slight smile, eyes sparkling with something new.

“I’m in too deep too.” 

BTS Masterlist

#bts imagines #bts brothers best friend #bts fic #bts drabble #bts suga #bts jimin #bts jhope #kim taehyung x reader #bts taehyung #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut in part 2 #bts kim taehyung and min yoongi are bestfriends #min yoongi's sister #kim taehyung x y/n

[gimmethatagustd]

definitely today, satan | knj

After having a strange dream about your hot neighbor, you realize it might be time to finally make your move. Dreams are a sign from the universe, right?

○ Pairing: DILF/Neighbor!Namjoon x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Neighbors to lovers, smut, crack

○ 11 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Neighbor)

○ Word Count: 1,076

○ Warnings: It's corny and horribly written and I don't know what the fuck came over me when I wrote any of these fics, cunnilingus (Namjoon eating it from behind while MC wears a skirt, god bless), nipple play, vaginal fingering, I have a really bad sense humor, reference to NSYNC fanfic

○ Notes: This fic was written for @mapleleaf000 for my "part 2 when?" follower milestone game. It's actually part 3 of what has turned into a mini-series about the "Demon DMV" LOL. The links for the other parts are below. For those of you who haven't read "Not Today, Satan," you don't have to read parts 1 and 2 to understand this fic, but I highly recommend it, or else this won't be as funny. Also, yes, there is NSYNC fic on AO3. In case you were curious. 💀

○ Post Date: March 12, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Dangerous - TEN

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Honestly, sometimes your ability to pull hot men shocks you. It doesn’t only happen at night when you’re weirdly dreaming about your hot, daddy-dom neighbor being Satan, tempting you with his sexy biceps and boobs. You’re actually here, in his apartment, sitting on said hot, daddy-dom neighbor’s thick thighs as he sucks on your throat and squeezes your tits. 

Namjoon is even hotter in real life than he was as Satan in your dreams, though you can’t help but think about your dream while he’s pulling off your shirt to trail kisses across your collarbones and reaching around you to unclasp your bra. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Namjoon moans against your chest as he drags his tongue across one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly until it’s hard and soaked with his spit. His tongue isn’t pointy and forked like it had been in your dream, but that’s fine!

“Not as sexy as you,” you insist with your fingers threaded through his hair. 

Namjoon’s hair is short and bleached with highlights, and you think he’s probably the only person in the twenty-first century who can pull off bleached tips without looking like Lance from NSYNC. 

Is there any NSYNC fanfiction on AO3? If there is, it’s probably Lance/Justin. 

Not to kink-shame anyone, but ew. 

You’re pulled from your distracting thoughts by Namjoon grabbing your ass and helping you grind against the bulge in his pants. He’s still wearing his slacks, having just come home from work. You were supposed to go on a dinner date since his daughter is staying with her mother over the weekend. 

As a respectful father (hot), Namjoon has avoided mixing his dating life with his family life. It’s what’s best for now since the two of you are still getting to know each other. Only recently did your dreams of Purgatory and Hell push you to ask Namjoon out. It makes sense that he wants to take things slow with introducing you into his daughter’s life. 

You’re definitely not taking things slow in other areas of your dating life, though. 

“Is it weird if I say that I dreamt about this?” you ask when Namjoon hooks his arms around your thighs and carries you out of the living room. His strength is impressive, even if his bedroom isn’t far from where you’d been. 

“Not at all. I’ve dreamt about you, too.” 

Namjoon seems shy when he confesses, but you suppose it actually is kind of weird, and the two of you are probably just weird together. Which is nice. Sexy or not, you wouldn’t be able to vibe with Namjoon if he couldn’t keep up with your weirdness. 

“Oh, did you?” you purr as Namjoon reaches under your miniskirt to pull your thong down your legs. 

“Mhm,” he hums against your neck when he hovers over you, slotting himself between your legs so he can grind his thigh against your exposed pussy. 

One of the buttons on his white work shirt catches on your nipple. The rough drag makes your body shiver with goosebumps. When you try to unbutton his shirt, he grabs your hand and pins it to the bed above your head. 

“Keep it on,” Namjoon whispers in your ear. 

His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is deep and scratchy. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine something darker in his tone, something demonic. It’s so hot you feel your pussy throb and slick up even more. When Namjoon pulls away, there’s a dark spot on his pants from how wet you are. 

“Can I eat you out?” Namjoon’s request is more like a plea, a hopeful lilt to his voice when he speaks. He runs his palms up your thighs to push your miniskirt further up your waist to expose more of your body.

“You don’t even have to ask a question like that.” 

“From behind?” 

“Fuck, yeah, oh my god.” You throw your head back with a dramatic groan before rolling onto your stomach and transitioning to resting on your forearms and knees. “Please, I didn’t even get to the fucking in my dream about you, so I need this.” 

Squeezing your asscheeks, Namjoon pulls you apart and uses his leg to push your knees apart more to open you. 

“I definitely got to the fucking part in mine,” Namjoon says with a chuckle as he runs his thumb over your pussy, first gathering your arousal from where it leaks at your entrance and gliding it up to wet your clit even more. 

“What,” you swallow the drool you’re afraid might come out of you when Namjoon picks up the pace, “What was your dream like?” 

“I don’t know if I should tell you. It was weird.” 

He circles your clit, occasionally thumbing at it with gentle flicks at the tip that makes your legs shake. When you start kicking your foot and moaning louder, he finally brings his mouth down to where you throb for him. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan against Namjoon’s bed sheets. 

You’ve got your face pressed into the bed because you can’t keep your head up as he fucks his tongue in you while he rubs your clit with his slick fingers. He moans against your pussy when he switches positions so he’s fingering you while he laps at your clit. His movements are languid, which drives you even crazier than if he’d been fingerfucking you hard enough to make your ass jiggle.

“Good?” he murmurs with his lips slick and his fingers still massaging your walls.

“So good, god, your lips are so perfect, fuck,” you moan and push back against his face. “Tell me your dream. Was it like this?”

Namjoon kisses your clit before bringing his other hand to rub it while he still fingers you. Leaning back on his knees, Namjoon increases the speed of his movements as he admits, “You were the Devil, and I fucked you so good that you kept me as a pet.” 

“I WHAT?” 

You turn around to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes and an inability to say anything more as your orgasm rips a whiny moan out of you, legs shaking and threatening to collapse. Namjoon wraps his arm around your waist and keeps rubbing your clit until you wiggle away from him when you grow too sensitive. 

Namjoon wipes his messy fingers on your thigh and shrugs. 

“I told you it was a weird dream.”

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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon smut #bts smut #dts #100 drabble challenge #part 2 when?

[austinbutlerslovers]

Just Feyd Rautha being hot af 🔥

#austin butler #austin butler smut #feyd x you #Feyd x #Feyd Rautha #Feyd #feyd rautha x #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune part two #dune part 2 #bts

[writerpetals]

under control | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w; werewolf!au, thigh riding, restraints

He really can't control himself at times. Being a werewolf with raging hormones and growing desires has its perks as well as its disadvantages, one of them being blissfully aware of his own strength, his pointed canines, and his lack of composure when the mood overwhelms him.

Especially when it comes down to you, wanting to indulge in your advances more than anything, yet being fearful of scaring you, hurting you, or worse. You have tried to reason with him, having trusted him most of your life, even before you knew of the supernatural being that he was. And being his mate when it all comes down to it, destined to be with him for the rest of your life while your body becomes naturally drawn to him, never lets you forget the thick tension anytime you even come close.

"It will be okay," you try to convince him, "you won't hurt me." Though, the fact that he has to leave the room and take care of himself any time you do get too close isn't helping your argument. You have done no more than just kiss, sometimes too intensely for him to cause such reactions only leaving you disappointed, and guilty for even feeling so.

"I don't want to take that risk," he replies, nostrils flaring while sitting on your bed with his back against the headboard. You know even being so close settled next to him is nearly too much to bear, especially when your own body is in overdrive thanks to the desire to be with him.

"What makes you think you'll-"

"Because," he interrupts, jaw tightening for the few seconds he pauses to gather his thoughts, "just... because."

"Well, what if we compromise?" Suddenly, a smirk grows on your lips, earning his attention with a glance in your direction a moment later. Your brows rise, heart beating just a bit faster at springing your sudden idea on him, yet knowing the two of you need some form of release if you are ever going to survive. At this point, you are willing to risk it all just to give yourself to him, but only because you trust him, and his threats of hurting you don't waiver your confidence in the slightest.

"What do you mean?" With his fists tight at his sides as he asks, you know thoughts are already racing in his mind. The confidence within you grows now knowing he is open to suggestions.

"What if I... I bind your hands?" You wince at hearing yourself say the words, his eyes growing wide at the possibility of being tied down while you have your way with him.

Though, the way his lips part and he remains silent, you know he is seriously considering the idea, as well as the thought of you riding him as his hand moves to reposition himself in his sweatpants.

"And then what?" The words release in a deeper voice, raspiness filling every syllable and you realize he is closer than ever to agreeing.

"And then..." you hesitate for a moment, "we see how you feel about the situation?" Suddenly all confidence shoots through the roof, words trembling off your lips while pitching the plan to him, but from the way he takes a deep breath, eyes shutting closed for a moment, you know he can't turn you away.

"Okay," he agrees with a nod of his head, eyes opening to flash a hint of darkness, "but you need to tie me down tight, and make it secure."

You want to roll your eyes at him, assuming he is overreacting, but his tone tells you not to underestimate his strength. You have only witnessed his capabilities on a few occasions of lashed out anger at one of his brothers, yet you want to believe he can control himself when it comes to you.

Still, you stand from the bed with your knees nearly wobbling as you search the nearest dresser drawer for a scarf before turning to witness him pulling his t-shirt over his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, making your way to him as every muscle within his body tenses once you come near. He shifts, lowering himself just a bit while raising his arms to the bedpost above his head, allowing you to wrap the blue-tinted scarf around his wrists and the post three times before tying the knot as tight as you possibly can.

"How does that feel?" you ask, hesitation in every word, wondering why you are suddenly feeling the effects of his warnings.

"Flimsy," he exhales, "but it will do."

"Are-are you sure?" Your gaze lowers away from the intensity in his eyes as he stares at you, sudden desires filling him to the brim and the lust that is overtaking him goes far from unnoticed.

"No," he says, releasing a breathy chuckle, voice a near groan as he speaks. "But at this point I don't think I can stop now."

"You can't?" Your eyes shoot up to his own upon hearing the strain in his words.

"If I'm being honest," he begins, pausing to take in a deep breath and you wonder if he needs it, or is only trying to capture your scent, knowing you are far past the point of merely aroused at seeing him tied to the bed, shirtless, resisting the urge to pounce, "I know you're afraid, even if you're trying to hide it, and even if you trust me."

"You-you do?" You gulp, not wanting to admit that you are about to go further with him than you ever have, and the thought alone has the fear creeping up your spine.

"And if I'm being honest," he continues, exhaling deeply once again, "it only makes me want you more."

You swallow all words you have no courage to speak, a wave of heat surging through your body to tug at the ache between your thighs due to his confession. Even if you are overcome with embarrassment at the effects you have on him, you know you can't stop now, only getting a chance to convince him to become closer once in a blue moon.

"I-"

"Stand up," he suddenly interrupts, eyes following your every motion while you follow his instructions without a second thought. "Good, now take off your shirt, and then those shorts."

Lazy weekend attire doesn't seem to faze him, realizing as much when you pull the two-sizes-too-large t-shirt from your body, before hooking your fingers into the band of a flimsy pair of gym shorts and tossing both pieces of clothing to the side. You think you hear a low growl deep from within his chest as his eyes travel up and down every inch of your body standing in nothing more than a cute, flowery bra and mismatched underwear. You would have been embarrassed about not planning ahead, even if the event is more than spontaneous, if it weren't for the way he groans harshly while taking you in.

"Come here," he orders, and you don't hesitate to obey. You wonder if his actions, his commands, are due to his overloaded senses and his hormones taking control, knowing the normally polite, cautious, and courteous boy would have never talked so sternly toward you.

Yet, you have to admit you enjoy it. Getting to see another side to him, your werewolf boyfriend, even in the current situation as you crawl back onto the bed with your knees and heels of your hands pressing to the sheets creates a certain pool of arousal between your thighs. You know he can sense it, can smell it, and from the way he licks his lips while his eyes flutter, you absolutely know he wants to taste it.

You can't deny drinking him in, either. The sight of him tied up, his bare chest heaving up and down, his muscles tensing, and the bulge in his thin, gray sweatpants certainly does far more than help your own body to become so painfully turned on that you no longer care about fear.

"Come here, baby," he coos, with a smirk on his lips that has your heart skipping more than a few beats and a certain dominance in his tone that warns you not to disobey him. "Come here and kiss me."

Licking your lips unknowingly, you lean forward, already a few inches from his body when your mouth connects to his, feeling the urgency, the desperation behind the kiss. Feeling him resisting to break free from the restraints with all his might once you lean closer. Feeling him trembling beneath you, wanting you, needing you, craving you, yet suffering more than you know as he keeps his composure. When your tongue slips past your lips to tease his own, his body jerks, his hips buck, and you instantly pull away, heart jumping against the walls of your chest and your mind racing from the possibilities.

"I can't," he gasps, eyes closing, shaking his head, "I can barely resist kissing you when I see you like this, there's no way I won't fucking lose it once I'm inside of you." There is a bite to his words that has you believing him, yet a growl to his tone that dares you to carry on.

You begin to call his name, yet freeze once his eyes meet yours, allowing you to take in the way his pupils have dilated.

"But fuck..." he groans, arms pulling to tug on the restraints, "I don't want to fucking stop. I want to hear your moans and watch your face twist in pleasure when I fuck you and see you come and I want you to call out my name while you do it."

Your jaw drops, completely caught off guard from his confession, knowing he has never even muttered such filthy things to you before. You know he means every word, that the urge to control himself had passed and that he would turn into the wild animal inside of him if you allowed it.

Yet, you wonder what would happen to him if you left him needing you, craving you. You can't bear to think of it, wanting to rid both of you of the tension that is building too high within your bodies.

"I-I don't want to stop either," you tell him honestly, voice just above a whisper, eyes falling to your knees that are still pressed into the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, head falling against the headboard only for a moment. "Then come here, baby. Come here and straddle me."

"But," you mutter.

"It's okay." He takes a deep breath, trying to control his urges to speak the nastiest things to you, allowing you to see he has at least a sliver of composure left. "Straddle my thigh, baby."

After a few seconds of hesitation, you do as he asks, positioning yourself with one knee between his legs and the other resting against his outer thigh. When he bends his knee, bringing his leg up to meet your center just a bit, you gasp, feeling the pressure from contact and the weight of needing to be touched after so long.

"Go ahead, baby," he urges, "lower yourself onto my thigh." Naturally, you follow the request, pressing your body tighter against him, soaking your panties from the evident arousal in the process, dripping onto his sweatpants as he inhales sharply.

Without further instruction, you begin to move your hips, forward and then back, ever so slightly to cause the tiniest surge of friction while he groans, eyes lowering to take in the sight of you riding him. Gaining confidence, you roll your hips a bit harder, clit pressing to the slickness of soaked silk panties as soft whimpers pour from your lips.

"That's it, baby," he groans, catching your eye when his arms harshly pull against the knot, "ride me. Come for me." The commands leave his mouth strained and raspy, having to watch you pleasure yourself against his body getting the better of him and soon he is huffing, and panting, and growling at the sight.

You can only take in the sounds, getting lost in the pleasure of friction, losing yourself to the bliss of riding his thigh as your hips rock against him and your arousal drips to soak both of your pieces of clothing. His name spills from your trembling lips, hands finding their way to his clenched abdomen to brace yourself, nails digging into his skin when he begins to move his thigh toward you, offering a bit more pressure to send you into pure ecstasy.

"Fuck," you curse, jaw slacking, nails scratching his skin, leaving marks and bruises that he would only admire the next day. Your motions speed up, fully fucking yourself against his thigh and with his encouragements spilling from his body, telling you to go faster, telling you not to stop, and telling you to come for him, all you can do is listen to his words, and listen to your body as the the final string snaps in the pit of your stomach.

As the first wave of pure electric bliss hits, you doubled over, body slacking against his own while attempting to keep rocking your hips to greedily receive every last drop of pleasure. You tremble against him and call out his name, only to hear him growl and curse and tell you how much he wants to fuck you as you come undone before him.

Finally your hips come to a stop, too beyond spent to even roll off of him, but he allows you to stay put, knowing he wants nothing more than to hold you and fuck you senseless at the same time, and the thought alone has you lifting your head before removing yourself from around his thigh.

"I think..." he gasps, earning your full attention even in your post-bliss daze, "I think you should go."

You blink, wondering why the hell he is suddenly kicking you out of your own bedroom, but as soon as your eyes lower to take in the sight of him painfully straining against his sweatpants soaked with your juices, you understand.

"I..." You nibble on your lip, taking in his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. "Should I unfasten the scarf?"

"No," he exhales, "I can get out. I could get out the whole time. So, please, baby,, just leave. Lock yourself in the bathroom and take a bubble bath. Something. Anything."

The words sound painful as he speaks, allowing you to realize how hard it is for him to keep his control, immediately jumping off the bed to make your way into the hall, and into the bathroom to heed his advice and calm down with a bubble bath.

But not before hearing a rip of a flimsy scarf as soon as the door shuts and locks behind you, heart rate spiking at knowing he could have easily escaped the entire time.

#try not to be a furry challenge failed. anyway do you want part 2 hehe? it's a lot longer... #bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut

[yeoja-dream]

Intertwined

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader 

Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn

Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader

Content Warning: none 

Word Count: 3.5k

You woke up the following morning to the blaring of your alarm waking you from a restful sleep. Instantly, you are in a bad mood. The post-concert blues were hitting like a truck. How were you meant to go back to regular life after a night like that? 

You pick up your phone, scrolling through work emails. I’ll have the payment for this month’s tuition tonight! The twins will be missing from the 10 am hip-hop intermediate class! Ms. Y/N I really think I’m ready for pointe! You sorted through the usual sort of emails when your eyes landed on a more unusual email. Private lesson request. That’s weird. You muse to yourself, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you open the request, sliding yourself up into a seated position in bed.

“1 adult lesson, style is hip hop and modern…” You mused out loud scrolling through the details. “9 pm is cutting it a little close 1 hour before closing, but it says you’re prepaid so…” You trail off. “Approved!” You announced out loud before hitting the confirm appointment button through the appointment portal. “What was the name anyway?” you scroll back up and snort at the answer. Kim Seokjin? That had to be a joke or a crazy coincidence. Either way, you were definitely going to have to ID this new client. Imagine if it was him - the thought amuses you as you begin your day, preparing for a day of classes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite your initial grumpy start, and perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery client who, you admit you’ve been dreaming about being Jin all day, but the day passes you quicker than you first believed. Not even Roberto in your toddler dance class 1, his endless energy typically giving you an endless headache, broke your stride today. 

You waved the last student out, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Can’t be too careful these days. You reminded yourself. You glanced at your watch, 8:15. Perfect, 45 minutes until Mr. Kim Seokjin walks through my front door. You thought to yourself, bemused. 

Putting aside your delusion, you organized the studio for a private lesson, and most importantly, you could slip into the back and enjoy a light dinner. On your phone, you sighed dramatically as you found yourself flipping through photos from last night. When will I ever get to experience something like that in my lifetime? You whined inwardly, bemoaning your modest finances. Maybe in another life 100 years or so, another group will pop up and you will have saved enough to get the same seats. Maybe. Your daydreaming was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of a locked door trying to be opened. 

Your eyes snap to the time. 8:58 pm. Shit. How could I have let time get away from me like that? You snap up from the paper-cluttered desk and run, as fast as your legs will take you through the studio room and into the reception area. It was the person visible through the glass that stopped you dead in your tracks. 

You blinked once, twice, and rubbed your eyes for good measure. Holy. Shit. HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS KIM SEOKJIN. KIM SEOKJIN IS STANDING OUTSIDE MY STUDIO RIGHT NOW. Amidst your internal, slack-jawed panic, Jin stood just outside, black t-shirt and baggy pants hung off him effortlessly. He held up a phone screen and pointed at it, saying something you couldn’t make out through the glass. 

Let him in you idiot! Your inner voice scolds. I can’t give a dance lesson to Kim Seokjin! I should be asking him for advice! You fired back. Let him in, idiot. She says, firmer this time which is enough to break you out of your stun. 

You walk up to the glass door, and with a trembling hand, undo the latch and swing open the door. 

“Sorry, I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, if now isn’t a good time I could reschedule.” He offers politely. He thinks I forgot.

“No, no come in please!” You said as you opened the door wider for him to slip in. “I didn’t forget it's just uh,” He made eye contact with you “...robberies.” It was all you could finish. 

“Right well, no worries!” He said, his disposition relentlessly sunny despite how badly you were screwing this up. 

“Oh sorry before I take you back,” You start, and again the voice in your throat dies into a timid squeak as you finish your sentence “I just really to see some ID and if you would change your shoes I would really appreciate that you see its just house rules and-” 

“Sure. No problem. Here’s my ID,” he said, handing it fully to you. Can I sit here and change my shoes?” He asked, gesturing to the bench next to the reception desk. 

“That is exactly what it is there for. I will sign you into the system so it won’t change you the no-call no-show fee.” You plopped down at the desk, ID in hand. “Is there a reason why there is a sticker over the numbers?” 

“Oh yeah, I have to show my ID sometimes and all it takes is one person with a good memory and bad intentions to steal my identity. I am sure you understand.” He said, slipping on a pair of clean, white sneakers. 

“Oh wow yeah, I guess that’s true. A lot of weirdos out there, huh?” You asked, sliding the ID back towards him. 

“Tell me about it.” He said, picking up the card. “What do you think, more handsome in real life, right?” He asked with a wink. 

As if reflexively, your eyes rolled before you had the forethought to process how rude it might have appeared. Jin laughed heartily. 

“No sorry! Force of habit!” You said, putting your hands together apologetically. “Of course, you’re more handsome in person!” 

“No no!” He said, still laughing. “It was a funny reaction, genuine.” He added, sliding the card into his wallet. “Shall we?” He asked gesturing to the dance studio. 

“We shall,” you said, leading the way. 

The studio lights had been dimmed, the normally bright, overhead fluorescent lights seemed too sterile for a one-on-one interaction. The rest of the equipment had been put to the sides of the room, leaving it completely vacant with the exception of the worn tape on the floor demarking where students were to stand. 

“So let's start with some stretches.” You said, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Jin followed your command wordlessly. You turned yourself at an angle to him, feeling immediately more at ease. It was easier to deal with him on your periphery. There was a sensation, one that you had been able to ignore on account of your nerves that had been present, you now observed, since he had first arrived. It felt like blue zaps of electricity buzzing through you, and as you spread your legs, lean forward into a split, and feel the stretch, it clicks. This was the feeling you had at the concert. The electric current, the dizzy, hazy feeling that washed over you when you locked eyes with them, it was coming on stronger and stronger, and it was making you bolder. 

“So,” You began. “Let's start with the basics. What brings you to a random dance studio when your company has plenty of dance teachers and choreographers?” You ask, stretching an arm across your chest. 

Jin mirrored you. “Let’s call it happenstance. Besides, the greatest way to learn is to be taught by many teachers.” 

“Okay, Confucius.” You teased. “What did you want to learn today?” 

“I want to learn whatever it is you are learning.” He said matter-of-factly. 

You snorted. “I doubt you want to learn what I am learning.” 

“Try me.” He said, standing up. 

You followed his lead, standing. “If you insist.” You said with a shrug. From the back wall of the studio, you dragged two chairs to the center of the space, about 5 feet apart. “I have been choreographing a routine using this.” You said gesturing to the chair. 

He knitted his eyebrows together in concern for a moment, before the expression dissolved, as did his resolve. 

“Alright,” He began, “Show me first, so I can get an idea of what it is you are referring to.” 

You walked over to the music player, set a 10-second delay, and walked over into position. As the beat hit, you moved your body with long-practiced poise and grace. The routine was like lovers making love for the first time, slow, explorative, and careful to begin. As the song continues, though, the intensity rises before BANG! The finale. 

You lost yourself in the music, whatever high that crept into your system made you carefree and light. You put your everything into every moment, and as you grinded and body rolled, you never forgot whose eyes were on you. You didn’t shy away. 

As the song finished, you let loose the final, explosive move, a visual orgasm to finish the routine. You let the silence hang for a moment while you caught your breath, without the music, shame began to reach through the haze.

“Well…?” You asked, turning around. You weren’t sure what you expected him to look like, or even how you expected him to react, but as you turned, a dark, hungry, and heady expression sat on Jin’s face. Where before he had been kind, respectful, clinical, even, your heart rate rose and a scarlet blush traveled up your face as you couldn’t help but imagine what he was capable of. “Jin…?” You asked again, taking a step toward him. 

As you do so, he blinks and shakes his head. When he looked at you again, his expression was once again as kind and friendly as it had been before. “Sorry.” He said “Got a little lost in thought there. That was amazing, where did you learn to dance like that?” 

“I’ve been practicing my whole life,” You said. “I’d like to think I came out of my mother’s womb dancing.” You said with a chuckle. 

A slightly uncomfortable silence hung in the air before you cleared your throat to speak again. 

“Did you want to learn however much of that we can in…” you glanced at your watch “20 minutes?” You asked. 

“Oh, sure!” He said. “It looks like fun.” 

You walked over to the media player, setting the song’s tempo slower, and began the process of breaking down the dance, beat by beat. Sure enough, being the professional dancer he is, he is an extremely fast learner, never needing to go over the same part more than 3 or 4 times before he has it memorized. You watched him carefully, allowing yourself to be slightly more critical of him than you might be with a more inexperienced student. 

“This part,” you demonstrated, rolling your body with practiced fluidity, “needs to be sexier, more fluid.” 

“How is this?” He asked, his movements still stiff. 

“Not quite.” You said. “Pardon my French, but pretend you’re… well…” you trailed off. 

“Making love to someone.” He finished for you. 

“Right.” You agreed. 

“How about this?” He asked, a perceivable jerkiness still present. 

“Hm.” You mused to yourself. “I think you aren’t using the right muscles. Give me your hand.” 

He offered his hand to you, wordlessly.

You grabbed his hand, opened his palm up flat, and placed it on your stomach. The physical connection sent a strong zap through your body. Focusing on your breathing, you followed through, allowing him to feel the way your muscles were contracting as you did the movement. His expression was hard, unreadable. 

“So… did you feel that?” You asked pulling his hand away. 

“Yeah… I did,” he said, his voice far away and dry. “I definitely did.” 

“So uh, you try now.” You said, feeling shy. 

He did so without comment, and the visual of which causes something to tighten within you. 

“Yeah, that looks a lot better.” 

“Could you,” he began “Ah, never mind.” he cut himself off. 

“Hm?” You ask “I probably don’t mind so ask away.” 

“No, it sounds kinda pervy.” He said, looking down, ashamed. 

“I don’t, uh…” You stammered, unsure how to process what he just said. Was this guy about to ask me to what, take my clothes off so he can see better?? What the hell?

“Oh god that made it sound really bad.” He blurted. “I just wanted you to feel to make sure I was also using the right muscle groups but that sounded kind of weird sorry!” 

“Oh!” You laughed. “You should have said as much. That’s no problem.” 

You walked closer to him, placing your flat hand on his abdomen. You noticed now, as your hand connected with his body, warm tingling spread through your hand. It felt good, you decided, but the unexpected sensation had you pulling back your arm in shock.

“Sorry. “I got zapped.” You lied.

Placing your hand back on his abdomen, through his t-shirt you could feel the hard, lean muscle. The warm, tingly sensation returned, and you watched and felt, mesmerized, as those hard muscles contracted and relaxed through the roll, resisting the urge to cross your legs to relieve some of the building pressure inside of you. 

The proximity, the connection, it swirls through you and you find yourself transfixed, looking up at him. Your breathing is heavy, the current running through you, the haze swirling through your mind, and the tension and heat that was building in your core, it was almost too much to handle. You blinked up at him, his expression dark and unreadable. He looked down at you too, bringing a hand up, cupping your face gently. He searched your expression for a sign of protest, and when there was none, he dipped his head down, and soft, gentle lips met yours. 

You immediately felt breathless, and everything inside you was screaming, chanting at you to keep going. Maybe it was the dizzy way he made you feel, but this all felt so undeniably right. The kiss deepened, your lips parting to one another as you excitedly and feverishly explored one another’s mouth. He didn’t seem to dare to take the next physically, but you needed him. 

You ran your hands up his body and then around his neck, using the new position to press yourself flush to him. He moved his arms down, wrapping solidly around your waist. He backed you up slowly until your back was against the cool mirror of the studio. He pinned you there, placing his hands on each side of your head, against the glass. His arms flexed and relaxed with heavy practiced, restraint, as it took every fiber of his control not to rip your clothes off, take you, and mark you as his on this studio floor. 

He pulled away, suddenly, taking 3 halting, jerky steps backward. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Wha…?” You ask, dazed and confused. 

“I have to go.” He said, his voice serious and strained. In a flash, he was gone, with the sound of the front door closing behind him the only evidence he was ever really there. 

In the complete silence, the heated haze that filled your mind subsided slowly, and your mind worked in overtime to process the series of events that had just happened to you. An achey feeling blooms in your chest and a different type of heat spreads to your face, embarrassment. What the fuck you thought to yourself, he probably thinks I’m some kind of crazed slut. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest tight. What the fuck is his problem anyway, he kissed me first, you reasoned. Maybe I am just a god-awful kisser, you added bitterly. Maybe I took things too far. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Fuck uncomfortable, he started it! He pinned you against the wall, he absolutely loved it. Two parts of your mine argued back and forth. Whatever the case, sitting in your dim studio feeling bad for yourself didn’t bring you any closer or make you any happier, so you resolved to pick yourself up and bring yourself home. 

You jammed your keys into the keyhole of your front door, unlocking it and entering your quiet apartment in a numb, dissociative daze. If you gave yourself 100,000 guesses this morning to guess as to how your day would end, you still wouldn’t have guessed you’d find yourself in the position you were in. Sleep tonight would be impossible, you decided. You made your way to your bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, grabbing one of the large, brown, glass bottles inside, shaking it tentatively. The last of the medicine you sighed inwardly, shaking the last two tightly-bundled, pill-sized leaf preparations from the bottle. When the nightmares would keep you awake, Dad would bring you two of these with a glass of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple cider. “These will help you sleep,” He said, handing you the pills. “And this,” he continued, “is full of spices to keep the monsters away.” Handing you the mug of hot, fragrant liquid.

“Like what?” You asked, voice still trembling from crying. 

“Cinnamon.” He told you, climbing into bed next to you. 

“Monsters don’t like cinnamon?” you asked, putting the bitter pills on your tongue, swallowing quickly. 

“Can’t stand it,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close to his side. The contact is comforting. “One sniff of it and they go running for the hills!” 

You giggled at that. “It must suck to be a monster, then.” You decided. 

“Most definitely.” Dad agreed.

The memory was bittersweet. You swallow the bitter preparations, speed through your evening routine, and slip in between your sheets, already feeling the drowsy effects blossom through your body and mind. With the last of your cognition, you grabbed your phone, sending a mass email. You needed a break.

Dear students and families, 

I have come down with something and as such, I will be suspending all classes for tomorrow. The following day, however, classes will return as scheduled. Thank you for your understanding. 

Best, 

Teacher Y/N

You hit send, and allow your eyes to close, sending you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t get through,” Namjoon said, eyes closed, eyebrows knit together with concentration. 

“Should we go up to her place?” Taehyung asked, looking at the older man, concerned. 

“No,” Jin said, voice stern. “We have done plenty.” 

“We?” Jungkook snorted. “Hyung, last time I checked it was you who planted one on her, not us.” 

Jin shot him a dirty look. “If we had sent you, you would have lost control 30 seconds into being there and we would be having a much different conversation right now.” 

Yoongi walked over to Jin, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “You are completely sure?” Yoongi asked, his tone flat, measured. 

“As I have said 100 times over, yes,” Jin said, pushing down the growing irritation in his voice. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault he had gone too far. The way you looked up at him, the feeling of your hand on his body after he had just touched you, watched you move, he couldn’t help himself. He only hoped now that you felt the same way. 

“She could have taken something and that’s why you can’t reach her, right Namjoon-hung?” Jimin asked, running his fingers absentmindedly through the older’s hair.

“Mmm.” He grunted in affirmation. “She could also have a talisman or a barrier spell preventing me from getting in.” 

“So she’s probably fine,” Jimin said, voice calm.  

“Probably.” Namjoon agreed, sighing and allowing himself to slump fully onto Jimin, looking for comfort. 

“Well,” Hoseok chimed in. “Feeling bad or anxious isn’t particularly productive. Jinnie-hyung took things farther than he intended, but it sounds to me like she was probably okay with it. What probably freaked her out was you up and leaving without so much as an explanation like an antisocial weirdo. That would cause anyone to overthink.” 

“He’s got a point,” Yoongi said, his arms now draped over Jin’s shoulders, holding him in a back hug. 

“I know,” Jin said with a sigh. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would. But don’t you think by blocking us out she probably wants to be left alone?” 

“How would she know Joonie-hyung’s powers?” Jungkook said. An obvious question, perhaps, but a brief silence settles over the group. It is a good point. 

“The way I see it, we tell her or we don’t, and we need to decide which pretty quickly,” Hoseok said. 

“I would want to know if I were her,” Taehyung said. 

“Me too,” The group agreed. 

“So we offer a connection,” Yoongi began. “Contact her, apologize for being a weirdo, offer to meet up and explain some things.” 

Jin flinched at the weirdo comment. “Let her decide,” He said, “It’s not a bad idea.” 

“Then let's do it,” Taehyung said anxiously. “I hope she says yes.” 

“We all do,” Jimin said, grimly. “But now, we wait.” 

#bts #bangtan #suga x reader #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader smut #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7xreader #bts smut #intertwined #intertwined part 2

[obey-me-headquarters]

So, I have this particular kink that is kinda odd (shocking, I know lol), which can basically be summed up by "taking care of the sub". Especially with things that the sub is capable of doing themselves, but is either too dumb or can't do it *right*, or the dom just does it for them.

Like bathing someone, picking out their clothing, ordering for them at restaurants, etc.

It's less about the control aspect (while I do like that) and more of the act of taking care of someone. The gentle and softness aspect is something I really enjoy.

But I have a more... extreme version of this kink. It still focuses on the gentle care, but instead of taking of someone, the sub is an object. Like a precious collectible or something rare and expensive. Something that needs to be handled delicately and with care. The sub is still no more than a *thing*, but a valuable thing.

Now imagine this kink with one of the brothers. I think Mammon would very much enjoy this kind of play, especially when you show him off. Imagine having him sitting in your lap completely naked, his legs being held apart by your thighs as you talk over him. There's a few dozen demons standing around the luscious club, and a sizeable group is gathered around the couch you and your precious are sitting in.

You address the crowd of demons, bragging about your latest prize, showing all of Mammon's weak points like an appraiser would. You run your hands over his nipples, commenting about how lucky you are for finding something that is reactive as Mammon moans. Your other hand wrapped around his dick and gave it a few strokes.

One of the bolder demons asked if they could touch your treasure, but you state that it is way too delicate, and only professionals like yourself can safely touch it. All of Mammon's moans, groans, and begs for more fall on deaf ears as you and the other patrons discuss him like he's not even there.

I feel like Asmo would also really, really enjoy scenes like this. Being treated like a precious jewel? Of course, he would love that, lol. And he especially wants you to show him off. Would even rent out big venues and have you play with him on stage. But I feel like he would also like to do these scenes when it's just the two of you. There's something special about hearing how precious and beautiful he is as you play with him in your own bed.

Lucifer is also someone who would love, but also kinda hate these scenes? (If very much a "brat who hates punishments" kind of way, as in he likes it consents to it, but some part of him is torn lol) The praise is a big ego boast, but there's something humiliating about being treated like an object that both exictes him and shames him.

Lucifer would never be willing to do this scene in public or with other people around. He's already pretty PG when it comes to public affection. But if you and him are dating both Barbatos and Diavolo? Then he wouldn't mind adding them to the scene.

The scenes involving them play out a myraid of different ways. Sometimes, you're showing off Lucifer to Diavolo as he sits on his throne with Barbatos at his side. Other times it's the other way around, with you sitting on Diavolo's throne pretending to be a human ruler, and Diavolo and Barbatos acting as the demon hunters who tamed Lucifer, and now you inspect your new prize. Sometimes it's the four of you lounging in Diavolo's bed as you pass around Lucifer like he's a cool rock you found.

Anyways, I really like this kink. Who knows? I might do more with it one day. Come yell at me in my inbox if you share the kink or have thoughts about it lol.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me dom!reader #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #my post #i swear im still working on the part 2 to the Lucifer having a pussy fic #ive just been very very VERY tired this week so i havent had the chance to work on it #this is a quick ramble i didnt even look over so it took considerably less effort #plus i think i kinda worked myself up trying to make the fic 'perfect' since its so beloved #anyways. i had this kink for awhile but i was reminded of it bt French Fry. dont ask me why. theyre not working on anything similar. #to be knowledgeable at least. i just saw a differnet post of theirs and was suddenly reminded of these scenarios i frequently rotate #around in my brain. so like. thank them i guess if you like this???

[georgiebrits]

Time to learn - Min Yoongi Part 2

You moan uncontrollably as Yoongi's skilled hands and mouth bring you to orgasm after orgasm. Your mind spirals into a lustful haze as he continues to lavishly please you. "Thank you, Sir," you say, breathless and thankful.

Yoongi's eyes light up with a possessive glint at your words. "Yes, you've been such a good little slut," he growls before pushing you down onto the cold concrete floor. He positions himself between your legs and plunges deep inside you, his thick cock filling you up completely. You writhe and scream in pleasure as he mercilessly pounds into you, saying, "i'll fill you up, you would look amazing caring my babies."

You gasp in shock as the words leave Yoongi's lips, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. Your body tingles with the sensations he is giving you, but his words almost make you freeze. "Sir, are you serious?" you ask, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and excitement.

“Yes, now take the load slut!

Yoongi grabs your hips roughly and positions you to take his load. He grunts and groans with pleasure as he empties himself deep inside you. The sensation of his hot, sticky cum filling you up sends you over the edge, and you scream out in ecstasy as your own orgasm rips through you. "Thank you, Sir," you say, barely able to catch your breath, completely under his control.

Yoongi pulls you close to him and whispers, "You're mine now. You belong to me." His words make you feel both scared and safe at the same time. As you lay there with his cock still inside you, he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. "Close your eyes and sleep. You're safe with me," he murmurs softly. You obey him, falling asleep with his seed deep inside you, completely surrendering to his will.

You wake up to the feeling of Yoongi thrusting inside you again. As you moan with pleasure, he chuckles darkly. "You couldn't resist me, could you, little slut? You need my cock inside you all the time." He slaps your ass hard, making you cry out. "But that's okay. That's what you're here for. To be used by me whenever I want." He pounds into you with increasing force as he talks, claiming your body completely.

Yoongi grunts and groans loudly as he pounds into you, his cock twitching and pulsating inside you. "I want to fill you up again, little slut," he growls, his eyes wild with desire. "I want you to be pregnant with my babies." He slams into you one final time, holding himself deep inside you as he comes with explosive force. You scream out in pleasure as his hot, sticky cum flood inside you, filling you up once again. You know that this time, there's no doubt that he's left you with his babies.

After filling you up with his hot seed, Yoongi pulls out of you with a satisfied sigh, then he holds you as both of you fall asleep in each other's arms. You can feel his warmth and his heartbeat as he wraps his arms around you, and you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that you belong to him completely. As you drift off into a peaceful sleep, you know that tomorrow will bring more intense pleasures and desires to be fulfilled.

#bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi #min yoongi smut #yoongi #x reader #imagine #smut #part 2

[girl8890]

Jin | Unwanted Reunion (II)

Summary: After the festivities Seokjin and you had in bed, it feels like to much, but at the same time, so little has changed. Your emotions are everywhere, and Seokjin is getting more and more desperate to make you love him again. Too bad there’s so many distractions around his own castle now, so maybe a trip to place with no distractions would just what both of you need.

Pairing: Demon King!Seokjin x Human!Reader

Genre: demon!au, soulmates!au, royalty!au, exs-to-lovers, smut, fluff, angst

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mutual pining, implied m/m sex, oral sex (f), discussions of past murder, secrets revealed, confessions, big dick!Seokjin, dom!seokjin, soul bonding, mating, vaginal sex, multiple positions, ass slapping, markings, clingy!Seokjin, Seokjin is so in loveeee~

Part 1 | II Teaser

。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more alive than waking up that next morning. It was like a blanket was lifted off of you as you opened your eyes. The usual dark sky in this dimension having a slight bright blue tinge to it now. It’s light casting down on you softly through the undraped window.

Today, the morning after a night filled with emotions you haven’t felt in a long time, or at least haven't let yourself feel, now has you debating turning over and cuddling the person responsible for these emotions. Yesterday was incredible to say the least. Letting go of all worries, and releasing so much stress all at once, but with the person you did it with has your emotions and thoughts scattering everywhere. Because just the day before you would have never imagined doing such a thing in a very long time.

You know he’s there, laying behind you. Never once has Seokjin left you in bed alone in the morning, and you doubt this morning would be the one he decided to run out the room for. Now it’s just up to you if you want to be the one running out of the room. Even the thought of leaving right now is weird, making your heart hurt, but wouldn’t it be the smart thing to do? To show him last night meant nothing, and he means nothing to you? That’s what you’ve been going with thus far, so why should now be any different?

Even though none of that is true—last night proving that much entirely. That you don’t want to be away from him, and any complaints of being by him again all being false.

You sigh, not realizing how loud it was until you hear shuffling of the bed sheets material behind you… but also noticing that you haven’t left the bed yet, even after you told yourself you should.

Because you don’t have the power to leave him again.

Seokjin’s awake, and he’s very much aware that you’re too. As much as he wants to wrap his arms around you, holding you close and giving you all of his affections, he knows you’re probably in a difficult spot right now. Last night was… it was amazing, but you spent a very long time trying to push him away. To keep him at arms length, and all it took was for him to be outside your door for you to let him back into your arms again. To move right back to where Seokjin and you left off two years ago—half naked, and horny.

But that’s not all it was. It wasn’t just sex. It never was just sex. Even now, as Seokjin looks at your naked back with your hair cascading down it, it’s not just sex that he’s thinking about. He’s thinking about worshiping you, kissing and gliding his fingers across your skin to feel how warm and soft you are. To hold you against his chest, and burry his nose in your hair again to the point his nose becomes numb to the smell. You’ve always just been more.

That’s why, he doesn’t move. He continues staring at your back, hearing your soft breathing as you contemplate what to do, and he waits for you to decide. He wants you forever, but he’ll never force his love onto you. Not fully, that is.

He understands this whole plan went overboard, and maybe even yesterday he shouldn’t have done what he did since it now puts you in this position, but he just wanted one last chance. One last chance to invite you into his life, and take the leap together into being the king and queen.

You’ve always been his queen, though. To Seokjin you’re his everything, and to him that’s enough to give you that unwritten title. He gave you his heart without needing to mate, so making you the rightful queen was just as easy for him.

Sliding his fingers across the dark satin bed sheets, he itches to touch you. It itches and scratches at his chest to just be with you and make you his. To entrap your souls for eternity, and make what he already knows to be true a reality. But still, he respects you enough to be patient. Pulling his hand back and taking his eyes off your back.

Maybe he should get up first. It doesn’t seem like you’re wanting to see him, or even recognize his presence, at that moment, so maybe he should just leave. Get out of bed, and leave you-… Seokjin holds back a hiss as a headache comes on from that incomplete thought.

He knew this would also happen from last night. The pain of being away from you increasing to the point it hurts him just to think about it. Pressing his fingers against his temples, he tries to sooth it away. He tries to tell his body you’re not his in that way, so it shouldn’t react to the need of enveloping you in his arms.

Just when he’s about to prove to his body this much, breathing out a sigh before he actually gets out of bed, you turn around to face him.

Seokjin is frozen in his half moving and half laying down position when your body turns to face him. Your clutching the blanket close to your chest, and your bottom lip is wobbling. His eyes, contrast to your squinting ones, are wide since he did not expect to see your two pupils dilate or seeing your face him at all this morning. But here you are, facing Seokjin with a frown on your face and two eyes that have now become glossy as the hesitant moment from seeing you passes.

Once Seokjin notices the unfailing tears, he’s on the move. Pulling you towards him until you’re both flush against each other. Even if it’s not what you wanted—not wanting to be held by him and feel all the longing emotions that were created last night—this was his last straw. Your tears have always been the worst. The one clear emotion of sadness he could never ignore when it comes from you.

As your face is buried in his chest, a sob rocks out of you. Vibrating through his chest until the sob hits his heart.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispers into your hair because he knows your tears are because of him. That whatever unstopping emotions you just felt before was because of him.

He doesn’t need to know what the emotions are, he already understands. By the way you recuperate in cuddling him, wrapping your arms around his middle, and sobbing, “It’s okay.” He knows it’s because your once hard resolve has finally broken.

———

That morning… was over a week ago. You can’t remember the last time you cried, but when you did it felt like a relief. Like you finally accepted what your life is like, and crying tears of sorrow and joy for your life you tired to live, as well as the life you were most likely going to live.

You haven’t told Seokjin about your epiphany. That no matter what happens, or what situation causes it, that you don’t have the power to leave. That simply leaving a shared bed with him was too hard for you to do, to the point you stayed in his arms another hour before he carried you into the shower.

It’s been peaceful since that day. Not so filled with silence as the shower was when he cleaned you of all the regrets of the past, and you cleaned him of all the pain you’ve cause. You wonder if he felt that way too, or if it was all just an illusion.

You know one thing isn’t an illusion, though, and that’s the big fat hickey on your best friends neck. You press your fingers onto the blue bruise on Jimin’s neck, making him squeal when you squint your eyes at him in question. “Since when have you been alright with getting hickeys?”

Jimin swats your hand away, blushing like an idiot trying to look angry. “Since when have you stared at guys like they own the world?”

You feel your own blush coming on, but you can’t even fake being angry when the embarrassment runs through you. Jimin is referring to you from yesterday. When he caught you staring at Seokjin from across the table and… yeah, you thought he looked like he owned the fricken world! Sue me for thinking the king of demons is hot!

But it wasn’t just him being hot that you were thinking of in that moment. You were also thinking about what he did to you the night before. Your proceedings of sharing a bed haven’t ended with that night a week ago. No. Instead it’s gotten much more heated and much more close to further advantages.

Who can deny that when seeing the love of their life looking up from between your legs, eating you out like a four coarse meal, is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?! So sexy that you couldn’t get the picture out of your mind even now.

You can, that’s who. You can deny us straight to Jimin’s face. Denying it even now like a fool. “I-I didn’t do that.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, unconvinced. “Mhmm… you really expect me to believe nothing happened between you two?”

“Well…” You scratch the back of your neck, glancing around the garden you two are in to buy you sometime while you think up something to say. “I wouldn’t say nothing, but… Hey! Stop distracting me! I’m trying to be angry at you!”

Jimin winces, realizing he’s failed at steering your attention away from Taehyung and him. “I-I just thought about it, and—I mean—you know?”

Your eyes droop, looking at your friend like the idiot he is. “And—I mean—you know? That’s all you have to say for forgiving the demon that lied to you?”

Jimin pulls his lip through his teeth, feeling your anger radiating off of you and knowing there’s not much he can do once you get heated like this. He knows you always mean well, but you’re also stubborn enough that once your mind is made up then that’s it. Taehyung lying to him hitting you harder that it ever did him.

“There’s nothing I can do about it now, y/n. I love him, so what else can I do besides accept it?”

“Accept it?” Jimin nods his head, and you look away from him in shame. You don’t understand how he could just accept it. Accepting a life with demon that lied to him from the very start… or maybe even broke his heart.

You shut your eyes, breathing in the cold air of the underworld in frustration because you know that last thought wasn’t directed towards Jimin and Taehyung at all. The person it was directed at has your friend stiffening on the bench next to you when he magically appears in front of you both. You slowly opening your eyes back up, smelling the stink of sulfur because the king of demons decided to pop up in front of you.

“Hi, Seokjin.” The demon in question beams at hearing you say his real name. Something you’ve been doing a lot more often for his benefit lately. “What brings you here?”

You don’t know why you even asked because you already know the answer. “You, of course.” Seokjin glances at Jimin looking in every other direction but at him. “Hey Taehyung-“ Taheyung appears out of no where—most likely being there the whole time. “You should bring Jimin to the falls. I think he’ll like it.”

Jimin doesn’t even need an explanation of what the “falls” were. He’s up and out of his seat, clutching onto Taehyung and pulling him away as fast as he can within seconds. You scoff, hating the loyalty from the demon to Seokjin, and disliking how scared Jimin is of Seokjin. Most people are scared of him, but you also know it’s falsely placed, so seeing your friend act this way because of nothing but titles and rumors is ridiculous to your eyes.

“Well, bye to you too Jimin!” He looks at you with a uncomfortable smile, and a awkward small wave. Glancing at Seokjin and then running even faster away with his lover. Rolling your eyes at the pair, you look back up at Seokjin with a glower. “Was that really necessary?”

He continues to smile down at you, and rolling his own eyes in return. Then he sits down in the unoccupied seat next to you. “Not my fault he’s scared of me.”

“So, you could tell?” He rolls his eyes again, pointing at his mind like it’s obvious that he knows and why he knows. “Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.”

You didn’t actually forget. You just forgot Seokjin used the telepathic ability at all since he’s promised to never do it with you a long time ago. You still wonder about that promise, so you decide to ask, “Do you ever look into my mind?”

“Never.” You jump at his answer. It coming out so quickly and almost forceful—him wanting you to know right away what his promises mean when it comes to you. With a sigh, Seokjin looks like he’s suddenly just taken off so much weight from his shoulders by explaining, “I keep my promises to you, la mia rosa.”

You look away, blushing at what you want to believe is the nickname and not the sweet confirmation of promises. “Is that so?”

Feeling something touch your hand, you look down to see Seokjin slowly interlocking your fingers together. Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him, but each finger wraps together until your holding hands nonetheless, and with how you’ve been feeling lately your not surprised you let him do this.

“Yes… and I hope you could keep yours too.”

Raising a pointed eyebrow at him, you try to think back about any promises you’ve given him and come up empty handed. “What promise?”

Seokjin smiles, squeezing your hand in his. “The one where you promised to be with me forever…” You roll your eyes, scoff, and look away from him. He laughs, obviously making a small joke since he would never force you to do that—even though he hopes and prays for you to do just that. “And the one you made me last night.”

You turn back to face him, not remembering making a single promise last night and you watch his smirk only grow while he explains, “When I was between your legs. You were just about to cum for me and-“

“Oh my god, shut up! Just… get to the promising part.” You’re now beat red in the face and it only makes Seokjin’s grin grow to see you like this. Him finding your blush oh so adorable.

With a kiss on the cheek that has your eyes widening, he whispers against your skin, “That you would spend the day with me.”

As soon as he says those words you remember this promise. Although you we’re definitely not in a position at the time to say anything but yes to him, you always keep your promises. Looking back at him, now annoyed by the way he used this knowledge of you to get a whole day with you alone. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“Maybe,” He leans back on his one hand, keeping the other one still clasped in your own. “But a promise is a promise.”

With a sigh, you let go of his hand—for which Seokjin looks suddenly saddened by the loss of contact—and then you stand up front he bench. “Okay… where to, your majesty?”

Soekjin laughs, but it sounds forced. Then rocking in his seat before he stands up next to you. “Please don’t call me that, and wherever your heart desires.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say home, but looking at Seokjin’s happy smile right now you don’t even want to bring up the prospect of you leaving right now. It’s been two weeks since the deal has been made, and in two more weeks the deal will be settled. But unlike how you were at the time of making said deal… you don’t know what your answer is to staying here now.

Thinking quickly, and because you really don’t want to make yourself upset about how your emotions have been all over the place lately, you say the first place that comes to mind, “You know, you’ve never brought me to Italy before.”

———

It takes you five seconds to transport into the beautiful country of Italy thanks to Seokjin’s abilities. You were hoping once you got into the country to let go of his hand, since you have to touch him to transport with him, and get some space, but once you realized where you both were you clutched onto Seokjin for dear life.

You don’t know why you didn’t expect any less from him, either. Once you asked him to go to Pairs, and you opened your eyes to be on top of the Eiffel tower! But instead of the top of the Eiffel tower or even on a flat street, or the ground, you find yourself on top of the Colosseum.

The second your eyes cast themselves downwards and you see you’re, in fact, over a hundred feet off the ground you scream, “This is not what I meant by wanting to see the sights!”

Seokjin laughs, the sound echoing into the night sky of Italy, and then he comfortably wraps his arms around you waist and shoulder. Hugging you close to him, and you allow it because you rather embrace him then fall off the nearly destroyed building in Italy. You even mistakenly further his enjoyment of this predicament when you burry your face into his chest because seeing even the landscape in front of you is too much.

“Come on, y/n! I can’t bring you to Italy without a vip treatment,” You can hear Seokjin’s smile in his voice and if it wasn’t for fearing for your life you would smack it off.

“J-just get me down… please.”

You hear him sigh, not taking your face out of his chest. When you smell sulfur, and feel gravity overtake your being is the only time when you peak one eye out of his chest to see you are back on the ground. Taking your whole face and body away from him when you see what’s in front of you now—jaw dropped.

Looking around, you seem to be in type of church, but it is absolutely breathtaking. Everything being in gold and creamy whites. You can smell the history of this place, and you’re completely captivated by it all. Meanwhile, Seokjin is completely captivated by you.

Coming up from behind you he reaches his arm around your shoulders and slowly tips your head up by your chin to face the ceiling. Gasping, you understand now why he’s brought you to this church out of all places. 

“Wow,” You comment breathtaking. 

Right above both of your heads is a dome shaped painting that you’ve only seen in pictures and brochures for the country. It’s a large painting that fills every space of the ceiling with gods, stars, and even masterpieces of otherworldly sky’s.

“This is called The Glory of St Ignatius.” You’re so speechless from seeing the endless painting that you can’t even push out the request you always ask when Seokjin shows you a new artwork. Luckily, he knows you so well that you don’t even need to ask the story of this pairing. “It was created by a mathematician and painter named Andrea Pozzo. He created it…”

As Seokjin tells you the ideas put into every brush stroke of this place, you don’t even realize that you have grabbed onto his hand first out of instinct while you two start to walk through the church. Seokjin stalls for only a moment, but then he clears his throat and continues his story of the painting above you both as you continue to walk. 

This is nice. The familiarity of listening to his smooth voice explain to you what each part meant, and why the painter choose to do things the way he did. Even holding his hand as you two walk was familiar. A familiar thing you didn’t realize until you got to the end of the church, ending his story, and pulling your hands a part from each other, that... you missed it so much.

Your once small and concentrative smile drops to a frown before you can stop it. Making Soekjin’s eyes widen in a small panic. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, placing the smile back on your face like it never left. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

But he doesn’t not worry about it. As always, Seokjin needs to know all and break any worry’s in your head because that’s just the type of person he is. Someone that always wants you to be happy.

“Stop that, y/n.” He inches closer, cupping your face in his hands and making you face him. And you let him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You blink away unassured tears, not wanting to feel emotional but even that resolve feels like it’s slowly breaking. “I’m going to miss this after-…”

Seokjin doesn’t need an explanation. He understands you mean after these two weeks are up that you’re still planning to leave. That you’re thinking you’ll somehow be strong enough to leave. He can tell you don’t want to. The way you have been reacting and behaving around him is proof enough, but you still try to make it look like you’re wanting to leave...and Seokjin just won’t take that.

Keeping your face in his hands he shakes his own head, and gets closer to your face with his own. Your nose mer inches away from touching. Your bodies only millimeters from touching. “That’s not true. You still have a choice. This doesn’t have to be the last trip I bring you on.”

Rolling your eyes, you take your face out of his hands and wipe the stray tear from your eyes with the back on your hand. Seokjin following your hands movements and his shoulders slump when he realizes what that means...

“Doesn’t it? Seokjin, do you know how affected I was from that night?”

He closes his eyes at the mention of the night neither of you have talked about yet. It was bound to happen—discussing the night he lost you. Lost the bond you two once shared because someone thought you weren’t right for him. When in reality just the thought of that night still makes him think the other way around.

“I can only imagine ,” He says in just above a whisper. You only hearing him because besides the crickets somewhere in the church there’s no sound around you two. Just the sound of your heart beating in your ears. “But it was to-“

“I’m!” You say louder than you meant to, but interrupting his excuses nonetheless. “I’m not a done, Jin.”

His bones chill when you suddenly revert back to saying his nickname, but he tries to stay standing and not thinking this conversation is about to destroy everything he’s been building this past week. “I know your not-“

“Really? Because sometimes I think you forget that humans are not used to knowing someone died over them. That humans aren’t born thinking there are beings like demons in the world. That human-fucking-beings aren’t supposed to be trapped with a soul or mate bond!”

Your overheated now. Your angry that’s been kept in check up until now overflowing inside this beautiful church because you can’t just stand there and let Seokjin say some pretty words to make you forget. Not this time.

“Y/n… I know.”

You roll your eyes and scoff rudely. No he fucking doesn’t. How could he? He’s not human, and before you entered his life he never had a care in the world especially for humans. You say this much including, “…How do you even know you love me?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, not expecting you to ask such a ridiculous question. “Do you not think I do?”

Gone is Seokjin’s calm demeanor, but yours has been gone since this conversation was even brought up. “I mean, come on… If it wasn’t for the soulmate bond, you probably wouldn’t have even looked at me twice that day.”

You’re referring to the first day you met. The day Seokjin’s once dead heart picked back up again, and your life changed forever whether you knew about it or not. He pinches the bridge of nose, unable to fathom how you could even think this after everything that’s happened. Everything that’s transpired since the beginning of your relationship being proof enough of his answer.

“Y/n… I need you to listen to me.” You open your mouth, ready to spew out more toxic words, but he doesn’t let you. “No, for once in your life stop assuming shit and hear me out.”

It’s your turn to widen your eyes in surprise by the other person in the rooms words. It’s not like Seokjin to lose his temper, at least with you. It stunning you to silence. After a moment when he realizes you’re actually going to let him speak, he finally confesses the truth.

“It’s wasn’t a soulmate bond that brought us together.”

There’s it is. Out in the open and making your ears ring. You breathe out a, “What?” Because never in your life have you been so shocked by an confession before.

“It wasn’t a soulmate bond. I figured that out later when we actually met. Demons don’t find their soulmates by simply looking at them it’s… it’s when they first kiss that we know.”

You blink, unable to fathom this new information and you know your heart is feeling the same exact way by the way it’s beating inside your chest right now. “But… we didn’t kiss until you… until we told each other…”

Seokjin nods his head, confirming what your thinking. You two didn’t kiss for the first time until he confessed to you that he loves you. That was a whole year after you met. Which means that Seokjin was only with you because-

“You intrigued me. At first, that’s all you were. Something to pass the time, and for some strange reason I couldn’t pull away from you. It isn’t common that demons, especially from a human, can find themselves entertained, but with you… it was almost gravitational. Like everything within me wanted to hold onto you and never let go…”

Your frozen. Unable to speak or look away from the man in front of you as he continues to confess everything you have gotten wrong over these years.

“It wasn’t until I kissed you that I confirmed what I felt I somehow already knew. I knew you were the person I was meant to be with, and the love I had for you was real. Forget the mystical or magical bullshit, I fell in love with you on my own terms… and nothing—and I mean nothing—could ever change that.”

Pretty words. Pretty words. Prettywordsprettywordsprettywords…

That all this is. You have to remind yourself over and over again that pretty words don’t change the past, but now more than ever it’s hard to convince yourself this. With the smallest of voices, a tone of voice you didn’t even know you had, you say, “That doesn’t change what happened with J-jungkook.”

Although coming back to the original subject makes Soekjin a bit annoyed after his confession, he hears the stutter in your voice. That it’s affected you somehow, and you’re finally letting the truth of everything sink in. That a soulmate bond isn’t the only thing keeping Soekjin close to you.

“I only did that because he was going to kill you. I’m sorry if you can’t fathom a person being dead and you being the cause. Trust me, if I could take that burden from you I would, but I’ll never regret killing him because if I wasn’t there that day…” Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he has to blink away his own fallen tears just from thinking about the what if from that day. “You w-wouldn’t be here… You would be somewhere in the ground, and everyone that’s ever cared about you would be alone... I would be alone. Forever. And I just... I couldn't take that. I couldn’t take losing you even now.”

You haven’t forgotten how deep a soulmate bond runs. How much it stretches to even after one of the pairs die. Just hearing it spoken out loud makes it ten times worse for you. Knowing that one day you will be gone unless circumstances change, and Seokjin would forever be longing for you.

And that thought breaks you.

Falling to your knees in a heap of sorrows, you lay on the marble floors crying into your hands. To think after all this time even the prospect of leaving him alone still hurts you this much. Like it was as upsetting as the first time he explained it to you.

You keep crying even as he holds you. Even as his arms wrap around you, and he reminds you that you’re still alive and with him, you cry like that future is the present. A present you want-……… you once wanted to happen.

You can’t do this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” You cry into his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” No matter how many times you say it, it doesn’t wipe away the pain of just thinking about leaving this man alone. This man you’ve been captivated with since day one, and still have unfaltering feelings for.

Seokjin coos you in his arms. Rocking you like a baby, and running his hands through your hair like a lover. Nothing pains Seokjin more than seeing you cry, but right now he knows you need to let it out. That everything he’s just said to you has struck something, and this sorrow needed to happen. No matter how much it pains him to watch.

Grabbing onto his shirt with clenched fists, you move your face upward. Seokjin doesn’t understand what you’re doing until he feels your lips peck at his neck. Kissing at every piece of exposed skin on him while you continue to cry. He clenches his teeth as his own emotions run rapid. Your tears and kisses making positive and negative emotions battle inside of him. It’s only when you get to kissing his cheek that Seokjin lets out a puff of air, letting the positive emotions win.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper one more time against the corner of his mouth.

Pulling you closer to him, making you sit on his lap, he whispers into your ear, “Stop apologizing, y/n. There’s nothing you could have-“

“I love you.”

Seokjin whips his head to the side to face you so fast he almost hits you with his nose. He hasn’t heard you even whisper those words to him in so long, that he swears his mind must be playing tricks on him. But your not letting him think this for long…

“I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for being such a fucking idiot, and being ignorant to trust you, but I love you and that has never changed, so can you please just hold me and make me stop thinking about- Mm!”

Other than Seokjin’s sweet words, his lips have always had their way of shutting you up. He never thought he would hear you say those words again, so hearing them three times made him weak in the knees. Weak to hold back from kissing you, and he does just that with the pull of the back of your neck. Smashing your lips together until he feels your body relax, so he can kiss you the way you deserve.

He drinks up his entire fill of you this time. Moving his lips in every direction to get every inch of your lips on his. Wanting to consume you with his lips alone. It isn’t until you’re close to dying of the lack of oxygen that he detaches his lips from you, going straight to kissing every part of your face while you heave in gasps of air.

“Say it again,” Seokjin asks as he kisses your temples. Moving to kiss your cheeks for the third time since he began his assault of kissing you senseless.

“I-I love you.”

“Again.”

You swallow, pulling back from him and seeing the desperation in his eyes.

“I love you, Seokjin… I’ve always loved you.”

Than he’s kissing you again. Harder, more consuming. Like he’s been wanting to steal your breathe away, but right now you’re the one making him desperate for a need.

Seokjin picks you by your thighs, getting up from the ground, and you have no choice but to wrap your arms and legs around him. You think he’s going to walk you somewhere, to splay you on a flat surface and ruin you on it, but without opening your eyes or detaching your lips you understand where you’re actually going next. The smell of sulfur consuming your nose, and the soft sheets he places on you having you gasping into his mouth.

Your in his room… the room you once shared.

You haven’t been this room once since you’ve arrived. Every night since you allowed Seokjin to be back in your arms he’s visited you in your own room. A room he doesn’t seeing fitting for you tonight or any night for that matter. Your his queen that he loves, and a queen should sleep next to his king in a bed you deserve.

Reds upon reds litter the room around you. Some blacks too contrasts, but overall this room has always been red. Even as your eyes open, only looking up at Seokjin, you can see in the corner or your eyes all the red inside this room.

To non-popular belief, this room isn’t red because the colors coined itself as “evil” or even “sexy.” In fact, Yoongi once slipped that it was once all black and dusty pinks. That was until Seokjin found out red was your favorite color, and now you lay on red sheets.

Curling you fists into his shirt of his back, you swallow the boat load of nerves that have just awaken inside of you. Giving your confession of love set out your future, and you have a feeling Seokjin wants the same thing from you tonight. The tease that has always been over both of your heads, and all it took was two measly weeks for you to crumble and want that life again.

Your nervous, yes, but who wouldn’t be? You can’t even remember the last person you had intercourse with. It’s been far to long, but you also have a feeling it’s been just as long, if not longer, for the equally nervous man above you.

Seokjin may know all your ticks and habits, but you also have learned what his are. Them not changing even after two years have past. They’re always subtle since he’s learned to stay strong all the time and hide such things, but the slight tinge of red on his ears and the way he pulls his bottom lip through his teeth you know he’s nervous. Nervous about completing what has always meant to be complete.

Rubbing your finger across his furrowed eyebrow, you smile up at him. You go to tell him it’s alright. That there’s no need to be nervous, but in all honesty you’re just as nervous. But he beats you to any punch line by saying, “We don’t have to.” You blink at him. “You’ve only just allowed yourself to love me again. We don’t have to-… there’s no need-…”

You hush him and pull his head into your chest when you realize he’s about to break down. Either out of nerves or even desperation, you’re not completely sure. But inside Seokjin right now is a turmoil of emotions battling each other. Emotions saying claim and mine and matematemate. He’s tried so hard to push these feelings away, and he knows if you two actually complete the rite it won’t be as easy. It will be a part of Seokjin he can’t turn off.

Luckily for him, you don’t want him too.

“I want this, Seokjin.” He pulls his face out of your chest to look at you. “I want you.” He stops breathing. “Please just make me yours already.”

Then the switch is flicked on. His eyes turn black, and you hold your breathe. Not because your scared, but because you’ve said the words that have turned all tables. You may be someone who doesn’t like to be owned, but right now, in the state you’re in, you want Seokjin to claim you in every way he can.

Suddenly you’re being lifted in the air again, grabbing onto him for dear life, but then your being dropped onto the center of the bed. Tones of red pillows surrounding your head on the California kind sized bed. Seokjin takes your arms off of his neck, and then pins them next to your head at the same time he smashes your lips together into a teeth clattering kiss. His tongue plunging into your mouth and probing at every spot in your mouth.

All you can do is let him. Let him consume you, and taste you as he likes. But you want this. You want him to do everything he’s been holding back because you know after tonight he will still be the same Seokjin you’ve been in love with for years.

Your Seokjin is gentle. He rips your dress in two down the middle. Your Seokjin could never hurt you. He latches onto your nipple and sucks so hard you cry out. Your Seokjin loves you with everything he has…

And the beast above you feels the same exact way.

Your hands are pulling at his hair as his mouth practically makes out with your tits. Both your breasts either having his mouth or hands on them. Squeezing, pulling, licking, and sucking at them. You want to rub your thighs together so badly, gaining some friction because the way he’s playing with your body right now is getting you overheated. Your panties already soaked through, they’re so wet, but Seokjin’s body between you legs is keeping you from moving—it pressed against you in such a way that it’s making you unable to move.

By the time he detaches from you—both his hands and mouth—your out of breath. Your screams of euphoria that he caused by turning your brain into mush making your throat sore. You’ve never felt this way before. Not by just simple nipple play. It was like each time his lips touched you your own soul was being sucked right out of you, and making you incredibly horny.

As your eyes finally clear from the erotic fog, you see Seokjin’s dark eyes cascade down your body. His chin slightly touching your skin as he moves downwards until his chin hits your panties. With a singular tooth peaking out, you see Seokjin’a sharp teeth. Gasping at the sharp fang that you’ve only seen once before.

You shiver when he uses those teeth to drag your panties off your body. The musk of your dripping pussy clouding the air when he frees you completely of any clothing. You now being the only one naked, and shaking underneath the demon king’s lust filled, dark stare.

“S-Seokjin,” You’re somehow able to stutter out. His eyes flicker back to their normal brown for but a second, reminding you that he’s still there, and you let out a heavy breathe.

You weren’t nervous about him destroying you like all the demon tails go about taking virgins and stuff, but that little flicker of his loving light still spoke to your very soul. A soul you will soon share with the man above you for eternity.

With the gentlest, but earthshaking of touches, Seokjin drags a finger through your wet folds. Making you grip on the bed sheets because somehow one fucking finger is making you want to cum. “God- Fuck- what the fuck?!”

Taking his finger away from you, he chuckles at your reaction. “Oversensitivity, are we?”

You try to look at him scoldingly, but it fails miserably when his tongue follows the line his finger once drew on your slit. Moaning into the quiet room, you feel like your body is on fire as his tongue laps at your folds over and over again. His rough tongue feeling so good, you can’t help but clamp your thighs around his head. But Seokjin isn’t allowing that today—using his inhuman like strength to spread your legs wide open again for him to have better access. 

“S-shit, Seokjin! Your…k-killing me.” And you guess he didn’t think that was true because he then plunges his tongue inside of you. Lapping at your walls, and stretching you with his long tongue. Moaning out practical screams, you grab onto his hair to steady yourself, but there’s no way to stop what’s coursing through you.

Everything just feels so different. So good. He’s different and your bodies reacting different. Although Seokjin has always been good at all things sex, you’ve never shook with pleasure so bad that he has to hold you down. Looking down at him with eyes full of tears, at the same time he rubs at your clit, even with his black eyes you’re transfixed into a moaning mess because of him.

“Seo-… fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

Back arching, ass in the air, you cum so hard on his face as he pulls your pussy flush against him to drive his tongue deep inside of you. He laps up all of your love juices, and hearing the lewd sounds coming from him makes you blush so hard you even cover your face with your hands.

“Oh my god, stoppp~” You whine and gently push Seokjin away with your foot. He chuckles, licking his lips.

“Sorry, love. Your just my favorites flavor.” Love? That’s a new one. But before you could think of the new pet name Seokjin strips himself of his shirt to reveal your favorite own flavor. All the times you’ve licked his abs and chest flooding your mind. “No time for that.”

With his words you look back up at him, and watch him crawl over to you. You keep your eyes trained on his dark abysses until his lips capture your own, moaning when you taste your own essence on his tongue. Your whole body running sensitive and even just the press of his hand against your hip makes you shiver. The anticipation of what’s to come really getting to you.

By the time Seokjin is just as ready as you, taking off his pants faster than you think someone trying to act calm should be, you don’t want two black eyes looking at you anymore. It’s something you know he can’t help, but you try anyway—grabbing onto his hand before he can align himself and change your world forever.

Placing a hand on his cheek, Seokjin looks down at you and feels your thumb gently caress the surface of his skin. “Can I see your eyes.”

He raises a curious eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure how to ask anything properly in this moment but trying your best to make him understand what you want. “T-this is the first time will… you know? I want your brown eyes looking at me.”

Seokjin swallows, putting his hand that was once making fast progress to press onto your hip. It’s than you feel his length against your thigh, him moving your body downwards a little bit and smirking when you gasp. You’ve seen this part of him before. It’s a part you’ll never be able to fit in your mouth, but just the thought of him putting his cock inside of you has goosebumps forming up your arms.

“Are you that nervous?” He asks, ignoring your question from before.

You nod your head. “And no demon eyes can hide that you’re feeling the same.”

Seokjin growls as an answer. Skimming his nose against your cheek, and displaying his sharp teeth a little. The sharpness of them makes you quiver, unknowing if you like them or dislike them, but seeming like the latter. You exhale a giant breathe as you watch them descend back into his gums.

He kisses your temple for a long time, holding your head in his hands and cradling it close to him. You don’t understand why he does this, but you enjoy the tenderness of it until he stops and looks down at you again. His once dark eyes slowly forming back into their human state of brown.

Parting your lips, you see the man you’ve fell in love with again. Not that he left or the more demon version of him isn’t him. It’s just that you’ve feel in love with the eyes in front of you, and you rather see those if you two are going to-… when you both-…

“I am,” Seokjin whispers to you. It takes you all of three seconds to understand what he’s admitting to. That he’s just as nervous as you’re, and the usual confidence he carries on his shoulders doesn’t stop the shaking in his hands as he pushes your hair out of your face.

Lifting your head off the pillows, you capture his lips in yours again. A simple peak, but one you felt you both wanted and needed right now. Whispering against his lips, you say, “Me too, but… it was always meant to be. Wasn’t it?”

The smile that graces Seokjin’s face is so blinding, and you know you’ll gladly receive this type of reaction everyday. Just knowing someone is wanting your acceptance so badly brings butterflies to your stomach. “I always hoped so. I love you so much, la mia rosa.”

Your smiling in turn now. How can you not smile when he looks at you with such admiration while saying that?

“And I love- Mm!”

You don’t get to finish your confession because than Seokjin smashes his lips back onto yours again. Erasing the moment from before where you both were nervous, and instead remembering who the other person is. The person you’ve both been head over heels in love with for so long.

You don’t stop kissing until you feel Seokjin’s hand remove from your hip, going in between your bodies. You gasp into his mouth when you feel the head of him align with you again. Imagines of all the times you’ve stopped right here flooding both of your heads, but knowing there’s no way either of you will stop it now. There’s no way because neither of want to stop it. Neither of you can deny your love for the other, and both of you want this.

Slowly entering you, you feel the stretch you’ve been craving for so damn long. Grabbing onto his shoulders for dear life, and feeling a tear fall from your eyes as he bottoms out.

“You okay?” Soekjin asks after he kisses one of your tears away. It doesn’t hurt, surprisingly, but you can’t help and cry in this moment. Your not a virgin, so it’s not pain like that, but finally being filled by the person you love, crying because it all just feels so right. Your heart already filling to the brim with love, and now your eyes are leaking with that love.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Seokjin is breathing heavily, holding in his own love that’s making him want to move within you already, but he looks down at you concerned. Your tears and wobbling smile not confirming your own truth. “Seriously, Seokjin.” You cup his cheek with your hand, peaking him on the lips. “Please move.”

One breathe. Two breathe. And then the only thing Seokjin can breathe in is you when he captures your lips with his again, starting to slowly moe within you. Each time he removes himself you can feel ever vain and inch of his length—it making your bones even feel every pleasurable movement. When he enter you, just as slowly, it’s like he’s not only pushing in something that feels so good, but also something so everlastingly. You know it’s been awhile since you’ve had sex, but you know this is different. Even the foreplay felt different.

A difference of love compared to anything you’ve ever felt before.

Moaning into his mouth, you detach your lips as he starts to speed up his thrusts. Both of you burying your faces into each other’s necks and shoulders, and you wrap your arms around Seokjiks neck even tighter. Also wrapping your legs around his back and becoming pressed against him. “S-seokjik, this feels… why is it-…”

You can’t even formulate complete sentences, you’re feelings so good. Even at this slow pace his cock is making your mouth and brain unconnected. You just feel so god damn good!

“Mmm… why-… so good,” Is all you’re somehow able to say that actually makes some sense.

It’s then, without removing his face from your neck, he cages his arms beside your head and pushes his body off of you. A new angle starting, and with that a much harder and faster pace. Seokjin hasn’t made a single sound, but now your crying out your moans as he thrusts inside of you. His long length filling you up with every inch in a fast pace, and making you see stars through your eyelids as you hold onto him tightly. Having to now hold onto his back because your arms have become jelly as your euphoria takes over your entire body.

“Fu-ck,” You hear him say with a deep voice in parts when he feels your nails scratch at his back. Just the singular word is making your stomach tighten, and you swear where he spoke against your neck is now heating up. His lips kissing at the surface, making your eyes leak again with tears.

Your so close that it’s almost painful. Like he’s some how not allowing you to finish or maybe he’s purposely not thrusting into you at the right place you want. Seokjin knows your body like the back of his hand, so fucking you in the right spots is easy for him. Besides his delicious cock making you feel good automatically, something isn’t letting you let loose.

It gets to the point where you beg, “Seokjin, I want to cum! I want to c-cum, but I-… why can’t-… mmm.”

It’s then you hear it. The demon like chuckle covered up by brown eyes as Seokjin finally picks his face up from your neck, staring down at you. “Not yet, mi la rosa.”

You are then being flipped over—ass in the air and arms and face flat against the mattress. As soon as he’s removed from you he’s plunging himself right back in. Your moans turn into pleasure filled screams as he fucks into from this much deeper angle. New parts of you being reached.

“Seo-so-…” You can’t even say his name correctly, it feels like too much. New heights being reached, and even new parts of you are feeling it. It’s only when you feel his nails dig into your neck, his hand holding your head down, that you understand why this has all felt so different. Why you’ve even reacted so different. Because this is what he’s been holding himself back from for so long…

You wonder if this was like this for Jimin, but the second someone else fills your head Seokjin gets replaced when he thrusts into you deeper and harder then before. His hips are slapping against your ass with earnest, and your fists grip the sheet when you feel his hand not around the back of your neck slap your ass. A sting being left behind in its wake, and making you bite your own tongue when the hard thrusts and smacks introduces you to some type of pleasure pain.

“Mine,” You hear in a hiss from above you. The singular word making your pussy tighten, and your stomach twist.

“You’re-“ thrust “all-“ thrust “fucking mine.”

One thing you aren’t. One thing that both of you know you hate more than anything, is the feeling of being owned. But right now, as he chants how your his, holds you in a tight grip with his hand and nails, makes you feel owned… and you want to be.

You want to be Seokjin’s in ever way. With your body, your soul, your love, fuck even your goddamn life!

That’s why your screaming, “Yes! Fuck, Yes! All yours!”

Growling, Seokjin thrusts into you at a speed that seems impossible. Your words hitting him deep in his own soul that he once thought would never flutter again. In his heart that didn’t beat until he met you. His love for you flickers him back to his normal state for just a moment, but in that moment he moves you. Stopping his body quacking thrusts, and moving you so you’re sitting on top of him.

You are breathing heavily, pussy pulsing around him, and leaning all your weight against him. You’re completely winded now, and even your eyes are too lazy to open. Even now, as he pauses his thrusts to position you on top of him, you still feel at the brink of your orgasm. It’s so close, and Seokjin knows it.

Kissing your temple, he asks you in the sweetest of voices you’ve come to love, “Are you ready, Y/n?”

He uses your name because even though he’s trying to be sweet, trying to show you he’s having a moment of clarity, it’s a serious question. Are you ready to be his for eternity… but also, are you ready to have his heart for eternity? Are you ready to accept this new life, and become the demon king’s queen?

Straightening your back, energy pulsing through you, you look into Seokjin’s eyes as you answer. “…Yes.”

Gripping onto your hips, Seokjin begins slow and deeps thrusts up into you. With lidded eyes, you lean your forehead against his as he bounces you up and down on him. You know he’s trying—trying to stay in control of his emotions—but with each thrust up into you his control disintegrates like before. Unable to control your own emotions, you don’t care anymore. You’ve let control overpower you before, and it felt so good it was like Seokjin was fucking into your soul.

So, although you know you probably shouldn’t, you kiss him. Pressing your moist lips against his plump ones and swallowing a moan from him that starts off high pitched but ends with a grunt. Feeling your body overheat again, and his hands gripping onto your hips being the only warning when his once shallow deep thrusts turn into skin against skin deep—plunging his entire length inside you until it reaches the hilt of you.

You cry out a moan, and tilt your head backwards as he repeatedly thrusts up into you this way. Exposing your neck, he buries his face into it. You hear his sniffs at first, but then all you hear is white noise as you begin to fall weak. The brink of your orgasm getting tougher and tougher to keep holding—being out of your control.

“Please!” You scream, and you don’t need to explain what you’re begging for. Growling against your neck, Seokjin places his teeth against your neck. Not biting it, but just holding his teeth there. A predators way of claiming it’s pray, and you feel that same heat and vibrations where he holds you.

With one last deep, pulsating thrust Seokjin lets you. Finally unlocking that hold and your pussy clenches around him so tightly while you cum that he’s grunting against your neck. You can’t hear it, though. Your own orgasm making all your senses get overwhelmed with static, and your own moans not even reaching your ears. The only thing you’re able to feel is the carving into of your neck, and the feel of being filled by Seokjin’s cum. His cock filling you to the brim, and getting larger inside of you to the point it’s stretching you further.

You both collapse back onto the bed by the time you both finish. Your orgasm making your entire body shake, and even Seokjin is twitching on top of you when his own orgasm ceases. His emotions getting back into control, and the last thing you hear before you completely black out is the words that have always shacked you to your very soul… a soul you’ll now always share.

“I love you always… my mate.”

-

-

-

-

One Year Later

Looking into the mirror, you touch the mark your mate left on you a year ago today. The S carved into your skin looking like a skin colored tattoo with small roses surrounding it. Your fingers skimming over the S on repeat.

The night he carved it into you with his teeth, nails, and even magic crossing over your eyes. You look back on that day and smile, feeling warmth and love consume you.

As always, whenever that day crosses your mind, Seokjik appears behind you. You seeing him in the mirror. He wraps his arms around you from behind, and places his chin on your shoulder. Looking at your through the mirror.

“Happy?” He asks with one word, making you chuckle. He already knows the answer, but you’ve both decided to still ask each other how you feel even if you share emotions now. It lets you both confess your love to each other, and even relay how happy you both make each other.

“Yes. I am now that I’m with you,” You say with a smile small gracing your lips. Holding onto his arms that are around you.

With the roll of his eyes, Seokjin announces the obvious, “You know I’m always here.”

Unlike how you thought that truth of the matter would affect you over a year ago, knowing Seokjin is always near makes your smile widen. Your heart picking up a beat, and feeling his own emotions of admiration zip through you. Over a year ago, you would of thought of this as a curse, but when you finally let your love for him overpower everything else it became what it truly was. The real reason a demon will feel pain when being away from their mate because their love is just that strong, and this fact is reminded to you everyday by him.

Twisting in Seokjin’s arms, you wrap your arms around his middle and burrow your face in his chest. Hearing his chuckle from above you, and than a kiss at the top of your head. “Feeling some type of way now, are we?”

“I guess so.” You kiss his chest, then, because you felt that action was a little weird, you look up at him and kiss his plump lips. Pushing up on your tippy toes just to capture his lips with yours. After holding your lips together for a moment, you release them before it pushes on. The blink of arousal courses through you, and that makes you pull away.

Not because you don’t love sex with him, but your back still hurts from this morning when he fucked you into the mattress so hard he now has to get a new bed frame. The once deep red bed frame being replaced with a black one now. Luckily, you’ve convinced Seokjin that just because your favorite color is red that you don’t need every piece of your shared bed room to be in the color. It now littered with not only reds, but the furniture and even the drapes are either black or silver in color.

Rubbing your hands up his chest, you suddenly say, “I love you.”

This confession has been heard by Seokjin over a thousand times by now from you, but even now you surprise him with those words. Like it still doesn’t feel real. Like at any moment he’ll wake up from this deep dream and still be pining for your affections, and hoping for the return of your love for him. A love that now he knows for sure never went away.

“I love you too, mi la rosa. So fricken much.”

Unable to hold himself back, he pushes you against the mirror. Holding the back of your head so you don’t get hurt, but smashing his lips against your mouth so hard it shakes your brain in your head anyway. You don’t even know why you tried to push it away before. Once Seokjin even gets a lick of wanting you, it rises fast and you become consumed by it. You already feeling your panties soaking, and Seokjin moans into your mouth when his hyper senses smells your essence dripping down your leg.

Right when he’s about to pick you up, fucking you against the mirror like he’s down several times this past year, there’s a knock at the door. You both detach your lips at the sound. As your eyes widen, Seokjin’s eyes darken into his black demon eyes and he even growls at the door. For which you smack him on the shoulder really hard, making him jump and blink his demon eyes away.

“Stop that.” You demand and push him away from you. One thing you love about being the demon king’s mate is that you get to hit said demon king awake from his possessive tendencies. “Who is it?” You then yell towards the door once Seokjin’s annoyed expression turns into a pout.

“It’s me,” Yoongi shouts from behind the door. “It’s almost time. Everyone’s waiting downstairs.”

Your once happy mood turns nervous when you hear those words. A reminder of why you were even in front of this mirror to fix your appearance in the first place. The reminder that you both are about to go downstairs to announce your title. Even though it’s been a year, and Seokjin has already claimed you as his queen, it wasn’t until a full year passed—today—that you’ll be crowned queen of the demons.

A human queen, the first of her kind, and said by the king to stay that way. Although Seokjin said he could make you a demon, him being the only person who could make other demons, you want to push that off for as long as possible. You like being human, and seeing how obsessed Seokjin has been with you since completing the rite of making you mates you want to stay this way for as long as possible.

Seokjin’s better now, but after you both had sex for the first time he became the clingiest and most emotional little brat on the planet. He’s lucky he can’t bruise because the amount of shoulder smacks you gave him at the time would have made a normal human bruise until their skin turned purple.

There was even a point he didn’t want to let go of you. This point you actually didn’t hit him much since you loved the constant loving cuddles. It wasn’t until Yoongi said it was affecting his work as the king, making you look bad in the process, that you decided to stop the clingy cuddles.

So, yeah, your fine with staying human for as long as you can.

“Don’t be nervous, mi la rosa,” Seokjin says to you as he cups your cheek with his hands. Skimming his thumb across your skin for comfort, and you lean into the touch. “They’re going to love you.”

You hold back rolling your eyes for Seokjin’s sake. Even though most demons, especially those really loyal to Seokjin, have accepted you not, not every demon in the universe has. There hasn’t been any bad encounters, luckily, but you know by the snarky looks you’ve gotten from the few that dislike you that there’s still demons that can’t accept a human queen. Nonetheless the demon king having a human mate.

“You and I both know not everyone accepts me, Seokjin.” You didn’t mention the incident with Jungkook from years past, but you feel Seokjin’s anger nonetheless.

“Trust me, my darling… No one will not accept you after today. I promise you.” You know this promise is true because Seokjin still scares every demon that doesn’t know him personally. That also happens to be every demon that isn’t fiercely loyal to him. You’re not worried about not being safe just…

“But that doesn’t mean they won’t like me,” Your pointed frown is mirrored to Seokjin for a second. Both of you feeling your sadness now, and he goes right to holding you close to him by your waist.

Your nose is buried into his chest again, and two arms hold you close. He knows you love when he just holds you, so he hopes this is enough to lower your sadness even by a little bit.

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment. Just embracing each other as you listen to Seokjin’s steady beating heart.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seokjin says eventually. Your eyes widening for a second, looking up at him. Once your eyes meet, he explains, “Because those that accept you will love you, and those are the only ones that matter. You’re the most beautiful and kindest women in the universe, baby. And, if you could make the king of demons fall head over heels in love with you, then you can conquer anyone else’s heart, as well.”

Seokjin’s sweet words bring tears to your eyes. The love of your life always knowing exactly what you want to hear, and need to be reminded of. “Aww, Seokjin. I love you so much.”

Soekjin chuckles, kissing you temple. “Yeah, me too… but no one else can love you love you as much as me. That’s where I draw the line.”

You roll your eyes, pulling yourself away from him when his joking—somewhat—words bring you out of the sweet moment.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m better now, so let’s get this show on the road.” You walk towards the door, stopping once you’re in front of it. It’s than you realize that Seokjin wiped all your worries away easily, and you smile at that knowledge. Turning around to the demon always on your mind, you put your hand out for him. “Ready, my love?”

Seokjin walks over to you, interlocking your fingers with his and holding them in between the two of you. “I’m ready for anything that involves you, mi la rosa.”

With one last mirroring smiling shared with each other, you push the door open. Opening the door to the rest of the world, and becoming what you were always meant to be.

Y/n Kim… the queen of demons, and mate to Seokjin Kim, the demon king.

-

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The End

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➳ 𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @angelarin @kristineisstuff @bangtannie7

#demon seokjin #unwanted reunion #unwanted reunion part 2 #part 2 #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin #jin #bts #seokjin bts #jin bts #demon!soekjin x reader #demon!seokjin x human!reader #demon!jin #demon!seokjin #x reader #fem!reader #soulmate!au #royalty!au #seokjin smut #love is love #jin smut #seokjin x reader smut #Jin x reader smut #demon!jin x reader #demon!jin x human!reader #complete mini series #mini series final #bts mini series

[vinetae]

Can we get a part two of my love? 😭❤️

A/n: Yes you can! Had to decide whether I wanted JK to care for Y/n or them both be sick together. Hope you like it! Thanks for the feedback <33

Warnings: Light makeouts, fluff, reflections on the confession, and more fluff. Y/n tasting like Jungkook's mother's chicken noodle soup lmao. Gross metions of sick symptoms (nasty coughs and detailed sneezes).

Part 1

---

"Son of a bi-"

sneeze

Your eyes were itchy and swollen, nose running faster than Niagara Falls, and body all achy and stiff. Thanks to Jungkook, you'd gotten sick two days after he had. Now here you lay, tangled up in his Matte black big comforter, with snot just oozing out both of your nostrils.

Your nose felt fuller than when you go to an all-you can-eat buffet. Nose felt more stuffed full than all the things the girls from high school whispered about you behind your back.

Nose feeling fuller than-

"You look so hot right now." Jungkook giggles, erupting into a nasty fit of phlegm filled coughs. His chest sounded more wet than he makes you.

and that's hard to beat.

Your head slowly swivels to the side, eyeing his delusional self in retort. "I am extremely hot. Your duvet is too fucking big."

His lips curve into a smirk as he reaches across to your side of the bed, blowing his nose into a once, pure white tissue. "That's what she sai-" More coughs to come.

It was like an episode of the Three Stooges. Dumb and Dumber. Super Troopers, and all of those stupidly comedic shows we all loved as a kid.

His black locks fall into view, as his hand runs along Bam's curved back. The small -big- puppy -dog- had hotdog-ed himself right in between the middle of you two, making it impossible to cuddle anymore. Who cared anyways? The last thing you wanted to do was-

"Jungkook.." Your eyes take to the right side, eyeing the small little tent caught between his legs. Your eyes roll. "Are you seriously hard right now?"

A small blush flushes his cheeks, lifting his knee up to make the errection a bit more concealed. His voice, tiny and guilt-traced. "Noooo.."

A chuckle erupts from your chest, finding this whole ironic situation one of the dumbest things you've ever done. You're probably wondering what happened after your little makeout-confess-sesh that you two had shared a few nights ago. well, it went a little something like-

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby-"

Your head lulls back, as his lips press open, heated kisses along the side of your neck. Hands traveling to the innards of your loose fitting Tee, while your hips bared down onto his. Bam had gone out of the room, to give you two some space. -He couldn't handle the bed shaking so much, poor little puppy-

Your fingertips trace along the roots of your scalp, nails lightly grazing as you press your forehead to his. Lips crashing into one another's like a crazy, unannounced storm in the middle of the ocean. All had been going well, until-

"aH CHOO-"

And that's how Jungkook ended up sneezing into your mouth. Pretty crazy -mostly nasty- huh? Yeah, you weren't so pleased either. I mean you've heard of rainbow kisses but not phlegm kisses. That's a new one, for sure.

Jungkook's fingertips extend out, tracing along the heated skin of your exposed thigh which had been using the cooling air as a sort of way to lower your body temperature. You groan, twisting over to the other side, not wanting to deal with his horny ass right now.

Right now, you just wanted to sleep.

But noooo.

This fucker had to go and get hard by you coughing.

"Babeee" He whines, chest still clogged from the infection you two are sharing. He's quick to shoo Bam to his own bed at the entrance of Jungkook's bedroom. The dog lazily rises, mouth hanging low from sleep still halfway controlling his movements. However, once he's gone, Jungkook's quick to take his place. Wrapping you up in his arms like a Christmas present.

You groan out, arms extending to try and pry yourself from his arms, as he's trailing light kisses along the straights of your neck. Moans eliciting from his chest, as his mouth moves downwards. He's quick to crawl on top, towering your body with his own, largely defined and built one.

Your hands push at his chest lazily. "I thought being sick lowers people's sex drive."

A tugs his lips, as his mouth collides onto yours, not giving a damn about your bad breath. Kissing you, had been like reward for him.

And he wanted first place.

Your conscious looses control, hands coiling around his neck to bring him in deeper. Tongues sharing a sloppy but romantic exchange in the midst of this sick fest.

Once you two pull away -both having a heaping cough exit- his head gently presses to your chest, as his body drapes over yours. The blanket you didn't know you always wanted.

"I'm sorry for getting you sick, baby." The tip of his index finger draws lazy figure-eights to your arm, using one of his many talents to create a piece only he could see. Spoiler Alert: It was of you.

Your arm slings around to catch his body in a loose hug before responding. The air-conditioner clunking in the background, as you two lay there, listening to the sounds of one another's heartbeats.

"You know.. if we hadn't gotten sick, would we have even gotten together in the first place?" His head raises at the question, thinking for a second.

"No, most definitely not." Your eyebrow quirks at his answer, body moving to prop up just a bit as you look down at him with a certain expression. One that had been a mix between hurt and confusion.

"Why.. not?"

A smile tugs the corners of his lips, before scooting on up to cover your entire body once more. Supporting his weight onto the faith he held in his greatly defined biceps. "Because you would've turned me down."

"What? No I would not."

He hums. "Mhm, you would've. You clam up when you get out on the spot."

"Psh, everyone does that." You push his body to the side, kicking the comforter away as a wave of sickly heat runs it's coarse through your body.

He twists to lay on his side, one arm supporting his head as he continues. "Yeah, but I saw you doing that little thing you do with the ring your mother got you."

"The spinning one?"

He nods.

"Hah, it's just a fidget." He scoots closer, lips, grazing across yours before backing you into an imaginary corner.

"Mhm, a nervous one."

Rolling your eyes, you push at his chest once more. A little nudge towards the way you wanted him to go. Changing the subject quickly. Today wasn't a -'let's get into past traumas' kinda day. Maybe another time.

"Yeah yeah, go brush your teeth. You taste like chicken soup." He chuckles, walking over to your side before scooping you up bridal style. His head nuzzles close to you, as he walks towards the bathroom, setting your bum to the counter.

Hands trapping you on both sides, as he leans in close, pressing a light peck to your nose tip, before exhaling a relieved breath.

"I'm so glad I got sick."

#jungkook #bangtan #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #bts jungkook #jjk #jk #jungkook fluff #bts jk #my love part 2 #jeon jungkook #bts #bts masterlist #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

[ur-fave-is-yandere]

hiii! I got a request. Yandere jungkook. Wedding night. Arranged marriage. 👀 Virgin oc/reader

Red Ties

"You know that everywhere I go I got a million people tryna kick it but I'm still alone, in my mind.." - Halsey

400 people...400 people gathered all in one place to watch your wedding. Junkook's wedding. if it were really yours you would be marrying the person you loved willingly, marrying them with hope for the future. A house, kids, growing old together...But those are thoughts of the past, thoughts from a life where you hadn't been trafficked, where you hadn't been bought by Jungkook and forced into an arranged marriage. A prison sentence really, any hope you had of ever returning to your own life, even just your own country, had long died out. You belonged here now, belonged to him. Why someone like Jungkook would even want you is beyond your thought or reasoning, the two of you could barely speak the same language let alone actually get along. Your korean was less than a two year olds, and he liked it that way. Of course he let you learn his native tongue, after all how would you teach his children if you yourself could barely talk right? But it was slow, and only what he wanted you to know, the less you know the better. Better for Junkook that is, not even being able to ask for help correctly meant that you had to rely on him for everything. Ordering your food, taking you to the doctor's, picking up your medication, even just finding pads in the store was a struggle. So he did it all, leaving you more and more dependent on him as the days go on. It's how he managed to get you where you are now, dressed in traditional wedding hanbok waiting to walk the aisle with him. Your whole life you had imagined this moment, dreamed of the day where you would be conjoined to another for all of eternity. You thought of all the tears of pure joy you would cry, yet as you stand here all you can feel is a gut full of rocks, so heavy part of you wonders if you could lay down in the extravagant water fountain behind you and drown. Maybe that could be the escape you've been looking for all this time, after all it only takes a few seconds to lose all your breath...maybe- "Y/n-ah!" Your soon to be snaps his fingers in front of your face, shaking his head as he fixes a few loose strands of hair shaping your face. "Don't frown, you'll cause wrinkles." he warns, a soft yet firm hand lightly brushing its way across your furred browns. You can't really tell what he's saying, you can pick out your name, negative, and frown. You hadn't even realized you'd been doing it, then again your emotions have always been so easy for others to guess...Eyes taking in every small detail of you wear Jungkook slowly slides one of your sleeves back up your shoulder, you frame having lessened by at least two sizes since you'd been taken and auctioned off. It wasn't that Junkook didn't feed you, you just couldn't trust the food or drink he gave you. The only time you were mostly positive he hadn't slipped some mysterious med or sedative in it was when he took you out, which wasn't often. Tracing a finger much larger than your own from your collar bone up your neck and around to your lips Junkook smiles slightly, his own emotions much more controlled than your own. "On wedding nights...After tonight, you are mine." he begins in korean, slowly switching to english for you. Struggling slightly he looks you in the eye, noticeably closing in and backing you against one of the wedding hall walls. "Mine, and only mine..It'll be okay jagiya? All will be lovely." Bringing you into his chest Junkook buries his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. Acutely aware of just how close the two of you are heat pin pricks at your face as you feel a firm and large point pushing against your inner thighs. Lifting up your face your forced fiance slowly rubs at your bottom lip, hungrily licking his own. "I know you've scared, it's okay...I like that" he whispers lowly in english, slowly grinding himself into your clothes. Whimpering in fear you clothes your eyes tight, willing your soul to flee your body as you feel Jungkook clumsily push the two of you into a near broom closet. "Just breathe, I'll be quick I promise. I know you've never done it before, I'll teach you. You'll learn soon.."

#omg why was the end so hard to write fuck the character limit #lmk if you want a part 2 smut #yandere #yandere bts #bts #bts jungkook #yandere jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jungkook yandere #anon request

[euphoricfilter]

i rummaged through the deepest part of me for this one 🧎🏻‍♀️

#it’s a long one 🧍‍♀️ #like crazy part 2 is a wild ride #i’ll tell you that much #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic

[stillwithkoo]

Im so excited for next part of all too well!!

Hi, thank you sm for reading! Here's a sneak peek 👀😏💜

#The rough draft (or more like the actual thing cos i can't write 💀🐱) #asks #Faceless cuties #jungkook x reader #All too well part 2 preview #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts smut

[jimin-day]

Hello again, I'm not sure you'll remember me. A lot of time has passed, and many things have happened in my life.

Just wanted to say I will be working on and finishing Stare at Me pt.2.

I'll keep ya updated, love you 💜

#bts #stareatme #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #part 2 #bangtan boys #fanfic #daddy!jungkook #smut #shy!reader

[pennyellee]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E 

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

#bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #soft yandere #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook seven #jeon jungguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x calvin klein #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook yandere #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts jk #bangtan #bts smut #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #90s aesthetic #fashion au #heartthrob #fic: champagne confetti #Spotify

[ugh-yoongi]

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

[piedinthepiper]

You owe me ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader

Summary: It’s your job to help people, but is he really suffering? At least it’s a case of the crazy and obsessive syndrome.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dub con, guilt tripping, description of murder and crime, mention of stalking, cursing, weapons (one singular gun), mention of male masturbation, descriptive smut, probably wrong use of psychological terms (oopsie)

Wc: 6.9k

A/n: This is my first post on my bts fic blog! If you like it please show your support! Don’t be a silent reader! My requests are open, share your ideas!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist! Everything related to psychology in this fic is off Google, do not use this to diagnose yourself or anyone else!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

He clutched the gun close to his chest. Hiding it under his pyjamas. His fathers words ringing in the back of his mind. “Your brother is too soft for this industry, but you son, you’re my perfect descendant.”

He walked into his family’s suite. It was dark, except for one light in the living room. His mother sat there head propped up on her hand reading a book.

“What are you doing up so late, baby?”

She asked, putting the book down in her lap and taking off her reading glasses. He looked over at the white sofa placed next to the large windows. His brother was sleeping there peacefully. Not aware of his presence.

“I let your brother sleep in the living room tonight. His nightmares have returned.”

She continued when he didn’t answer her. He slowly turned his eyes towards his mother again.

“Weak.”

He answered lowly. Her look turned concerned.

“Is something wrong, baby?

His eyes continued to stare at her. He didn’t move a muscle, not yet.

“You know I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

She continued when he yet again didn’t answer. There was a sturdiness to her voice now. The kind of sturdiness mothers have before scolding you. He started smiling. Not in a sweet innocent way. Not in the way 11 year olds should. But in a sinister and dark way. His hand moved out of his pyjamas top. She looked at the object in his hand.

“Drop that gun right now, Jungkook!”

A scream. Three shots. And silence.

15 years later

“Your patient is here.”

Your assistant, Erin, said through the slightly ajar door to your office. You looked up from your lunch. Quickly glancing over at the stationary computer to check the time.

“I don’t have an appointment. Not in another thirty minutes.”

Erin looked back to the waiting room before slowly stepping inside the office. Closing the door quietly behind her. She walked closer to you.

“He’s been sitting here for an hour already. I told him his appointment wasn’t until 1 pm. He just said ‘I know’ and sat down.”

She hurriedly whispered afraid of whoever was sitting out there.

“Please, Erin. Don’t act like he’s crazy. Send him in, I’ll eat later.”

She gave you a look before holding up two fingers. The signal that the two of you created. Working as a psychologist you meet with all sorts of people. Even criminals. The signal signalised that she would call the police if you hit the button that called directly to the front desk.

“Stop it, there will be no need to call the police. He’s harmless.”

“If you say so.”

She shrugged and walked out the door. The next time it opened a familiar figure entered.

“Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“You’re early Mr. Jeon.”

You had been treating Jungkook Jeon for a little over a month now. And you had come to the conclusion that he had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. After he had witnessed a series of murders and crimes during his childhood. He was vague about the past, but a few things came out here and there. You only knew about his absent father and that his brother and mother had both been killed. No description of how or when. Which is common at first. It’s hard to re-live your trauma.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your lunch. Just eat, I don’t mind.”

He said as he sat down in the white sofa across your desk. You gave him a small smile as you reached into your drawer.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll eat after our session.”

You said as you fished his file up and opened it on you desk. You quickly read your notes from the last session as you continued talking.

“How are you doing? Still having nightmares?”

You looked up from the file maintaining eye contact as he answered your question.

“Sometimes, but not as often as before. I dream of you instead now.”

His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip, playing with his piercing he had there. You nodded.

“How often do you dream about me? And what are the dreams about?”

You asked as you scribbled it down in your notes.

“Every now and then they occur. Especially after our sessions. Or after I read your books. You’re a good writer Dr. y/l/n.”

He started smiling. His smile wasn’t sweet, it was different from how he had smiled at you before.

“As for what they’re about, I don’t think you’d want to know, Doctor.”

You tried concealing your confusion at his last statement. Curiosity taking over you.

“Dreaming about people you frequently surround yourself with is not uncommon. If you don’t like to talk about it we don’t have to. I would just like to know if they’re good or bad dreams.”

He nodded, still not breaking his smile nor the eye contact.

“Oh they’re good, Doctor. Don’t worry.”

You smiled back at him.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad to hear your nightmares are slowly being changed with good dreams.”

It went silent for a moment as you wrote down the good news. When you looked up again he wasn’t looking at you anymore, and for some reason you felt relived. His eyes were big and doe like, and when they focused on you for too long you would sometimes feel uneasy. You wondered so what those eyes had experiences in the past.

“What about your sudden outbreaks, are you able to control your anger better?”

He focused on you again the second he heard your voice. His smile returned.

“Sort of, I’ve been letting out the aggression in the gym, after you adviced me to try to stay active. I’ve started boxing.”

You smiled and nodded, writing down boxing in your notes.

“That’s good to hear. It seems that you’re getting better Mr. Jeon, much b-“

“Jungkook, call me Jungkook.”

He interrupted. You stopped and looked at him for a second.

“And no, I’m not cured. I still need you.”

You slowly nodded.

“Well there is no cure for your diagnosis, it’s a matter of being at peace with living with it. But I can understand that you still have things you would want to talk about. Maybe you would like to open up to me about your past?”

The room grew quiet. His eyes now focused on his hands in his lap. His demeanour changed completely.

“I have told you about my past. If I didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to diagnose me in the first place.”

He answered with a bit of underlaying annoyance. You sighed. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“You have told me some parts yes. If you want to go more in detail you can, I’m not forcing you. As your psychologist I would advise talking about it with me. It could be nice to have an outsiders perspective.”

You said in a soft tone. Trying to get your point across at the same time as being gentle. You didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if he had to say anything. When he didn’t open his mouth you understood you crossed his personal line of what he feels fit for you to know. You spoke after almost a minute with silence.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to. You can think about-“

“You’re a smart one.”

He interrupted you again. His eyes raised to meet yours.

“That’s why I like you. You know to some extent what is going on inside my head. I could never do that. I never know what is going on inside your head. If you think I’m weak or even crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy nor weak. It’s not your job to know what is going on inside my head. But it is my job to know what’s going on inside yours.”

He nodded before patting the sofa seat beside him.

“Come here.”

He simply said. You don’t know why, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach. He was acting differently today, compared to other sessions. Either way you got up from your chair, knowing that doing what he said would get you an insight of what you wanted to know. You slowly walked around your desk and sat down in the small sofa next to him. You crossed your legs trying your best not to get too close to him, but he seemed to man spread even more. Making your thighs touch. You placed your notebook in your lap, ready to write down exactly what he told you. He took a hold of your wrist.

“You’re not writing this down, Doctor. I need your full attention.”

It was the first time he had touched you, beside the first time you met when you shook hands. It made you think that you usually never have any sort of physical contact with your patients. Maybe that’s exactly what they need. What he needs to open up to you. You put your notebook down, and continued holding his hand. He looked down at your hands intertwining. Your smooth small hand was a sharp contrast to his bigger tattooed one.

“Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with telling me.”

You said to get his attention back to reality. He went quiet for a few seconds.

“I grew up in a hotel. It was a nice hotel, four stars, good breakfast. My father was almost never home, I didn’t mind though. I had my mother and my brother there. It was perfect in the beginning.”

He stopped. You looked down at his hand, it was shaking. You started drawing small circles at the back of his hand. Trying to calm him down. He looked down at your hands again.

“One night when I was sleeping I was woken up by a loud bang. The door to our home was broken down. A man entered and started shooting. My brother was still sleeping on the sofa and died instantly. My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder.”

He looked into your eyes.

“But he shot her in the head.”

You nodded, looking down at the floor. You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes in that moment.

“Did you find out who that man was? Why he would do such a thing.”

He went quiet again at your question. His grip on your hand tightened, as if what he was going to say would make you pull away.

“He was a mobster. Like my father. After the incident he trained me as the next leader of his group. I was 11.”

You looked at him. His childhood was worse than you thought, but he wasn’t saying all this as if it was a traumatic experience. It seemed like he was bragging about it. You would have to go through your notes and his file after work to see if there was something you were missing about him. You couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You smiled at him. He looked back at you with those big eyes. You looked at the watch on your wrist. The session was over.

“Look at the time.”

You were about to let go of his hand to get up from the sofa. But he grabbed you harder. Forcing you to sit still.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. But our session is over-“

“I’ve told you to call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, I have other patients today as well. We can continue this next week.”

You tried to assure him. He still didn’t let go.

“I’ve never told anyone about this, and you decide to end the session this quickly?”

You grabbed his hand with your other hand as well.

“You know I usually don’t end sessions like this. But I can’t let my other patients wait. You’re free to sit in the waiting room for as long as you want to.”

He frowned at your comment, but relaxed his hand nonetheless. You got off the sofa and walked to your desk again. Before you could say anything else he got up from the sofa and hastily walked out the door. Slamming it shut behind him.

You had two more patients that day. You waved goodbye to your last patient of the day, a young girl named Olive Thomson who was suffering from severe anxiety, as she walked through the door. You got up from your chair and collected your things. You turned off the computer and the light. You made sure to lock the door as you always do. The only thing you had to do now was say goodbye to Erin by the front desk, and you could go home. You walked into the waiting room.

“Finally.”

You turned to find the owner of the voice, as it was clearly not Erin’s.

“Mr. Jeon what are you doing here?”

You asked as you looked at the man seated in one of the waiting chairs.

“I told him he had to leave, I promise.”

You heard Erin whisper behind you.

“You said I could sit here for as long as I wanted to, Doctor. And please, just call me Jungkook.”

He was clearly upset. You remembered your words from earlier, but you didn’t think he would spend almost four hours just sitting there.

“I did, you’re right. I’m leaving now, Erin will be here for another two hours. But after that we’re closed.”

He got up from the chair.

“I was waiting for you.”

He simply said.

“I’m sorry our session ended so brutally, but I promise we’ll talk about it next week.”

You said and patted his shoulder as you walked past him towards the exit.

“Goodbye, Erin!”

You said as you made your way outside. The wind was cold and you clutched your coat closer to you as you walked towards your car.

“The least you can do is eat with me.”

He had followed you outside. You turned to look at him.

“I’m not that hungry, I just want to go home.”

You was going to open your car door, but his hand suddenly blocked the door. You were about to cuss him out. Tired of his antics.

“You haven’t eaten all day, I hardly doubt that one bite you had for lunch filled you up.”

He sounded threatening, something he had started to do recently.

“I just want to hear your thoughts on what I said. Don’t you think you owe me that? Or do I have to wait a week and dread finding out your opinion of me?”

He was desperate, you could see it. What he was saying was true. He would walk around overthinking for the next week and his health could worsen. You had to take action according to your diagnosis.

“Ok, I’ll eat with you.”

The two of you were sitting at some restaurant. The lights were low and to everyone around you, the two of you looked like a couple on a date. This was obviously not something you would do with your patients, you like to keep things professional. Something about this whole situation felt anything but professional.

“Get whatever you want, my treat.”

He said deeply focused on the menu. You shook your head.

“No thank you, I can pay for my own food.”

You answered.

“I’m the one responsible for you not being able to eat your lunch right? You owe me this meeting and I owe you food. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed when you didn’t have a rebuttal. The two of you ordered, and the silence grew more and more awkward.

“I’m sorry again, Mr. Jeon I’m-“

“Jungkook. Please y/n! Just call me Jungkook!”

He was clearly upset now. You were a bit taken aback from the sudden use of your first name. He had never called you by your first name before. And the feeling of the professionalism fading away became more apparent.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember your request.”

“Say it. Say my name.”

For some reason you didn’t feel like you had it in you. It felt so strange to call a patient by their name, the same way it felt weird to be called your name by a patient.

“Jungkook.”

You managed to get it out, but you couldn’t look him in the eye saying it. The food luckily came quickly, you were starving. Plus it saved you from whatever he was going to answer. You decided to take the lead. Wanting to stay on track for the actual reason you said yes to join him.

“You said your father was a mobster. Do you know if he’s still living that lifestyle? Do you have any contact with him?”

You asked after taking a big bite of your pasta. Jungkook swallowed before answering your question.

“My father is dead. He’s been dead for 7 years now.”

A question came to mind, but you didn’t know if you dared ask him. You remember he said his father trained him to the life of crime at a young age. For him to take over his fathers legacy. With his father gone he would be next in line to whatever group his father had built. He got the image. Tattoos, piercings, the black clothes. But you couldn’t imagine him being a mafia boss. Maybe it was some sort of stereotype that strong, tough men don’t go to the psychologist. But you were starting to rethink his intentions.

“You’re thinking about something.”

You looked up from your food. He was staring at you.

“Look at you, you do have the ability to understand my mind.”

You said lightheartedly. He chuckled.

“I think you’re brave. Not many people survive the kind of neglect and trauma you’ve experienced in your childhood.”

You said, trying to give him an answer for his entire life story. He nodded and suddenly reached for your hand across the table. You jumped, but didn’t remove your hand. You didn’t want to make a scene with this many people around.

“I’m fine, y/n. I think the only cure I need is you.”

His statement combined with his eyes staring into your soul, gave you chills down your back. Something was off about him. You had to ask. You just had to.

“When your father died, did you…?”

He smiled. The same sinister smile he smiled at you earlier that day.

“I did. I took over his legacy. Me and my father were actually great friends the years before he died. Not that I cared for him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life.”

Another shot of chills froze your body at his statement. You had overlooked it this entire time. His calm demeanour, his tendency to physically violence, his intelligence and charisma and now his lack of empathy. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, he had been lying this entire time.

“At least not until I met you.”

He interrupted your thoughts. You pulled your hand out of his quickly. You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

“That’s nonsense. You must’ve cared for your mother.”

He shrugged.

“Not really, she wasn’t exactly the best mother.”

“You don’t really have those nightmares do you?”

You asked, looking at him. It took him a few seconds to answer. Probably contemplating if he should continue his lies or tell the truth.

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t really have a problem with your mother or brother dying either right?”

He let out a small laugh.

“I just told you.”

“Just answer me.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned forward onto the table.

“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me, Doctor?”

He said mockingly.

“Answer me.”

You commanded. He sighed and started smiling at you again.

“Everyone has to die at some point. Doesn’t matter when or how.”

You nodded. Your instinct was true.

“You don’t have PTSD, you have ASPD.”

He licked his lips and cocked his head.

“And what does that mean, Doctor?”

“You’re a sociopath.”

He looked taken aback from your bluntness for a second. He probably wasn’t expecting you to crack his code.

“You’ve lied this entire time for your own personal gain. I must admit your acting was really good. But my question is, what do you want?”

He was quiet for a second. You knew he was fighting a war on the inside.

“I really underestimated you y/n. I knew you were smart, but personally I don’t think PhDs make a person smart by default. You’ve really proven yourself to me.”

“My efforts were not made to impress you. You think too highly of yourself Mr. Jeon.”

His gaze switched, you had aggravated him. Not only by calling him by his last name, but by attacking his self image.

“Why don’t you come home with me, we can continue our conversation there.”

You shook your head, and arranged the cutlery neatly by the side of your half empty plate.

“I do not go home with patients, and I definitely do not go home with mobsters. You have already challenged my professionalism by taking me out to eat.”

He smirked.

“What if I stop being your patient? In all honesty I don’t really need your advice, Doctor.”

You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.

“In all honesty I think you do. We will continue this conversation in my office next week. Good night Mr. Jeon.”

With that you walked away from the table. Not looking back.

The next few days you were on edge. Constantly overthinking everything that had happened that day with Jungkook. You almost wanted to call in sick. Terrified of what would happen next. But regardless of that you had to continue working. You couldn’t let your other patients get affected by whatever was going on with you. You said goodbye to Mrs. Humphrey. An elderly woman that had fallen into depression after her husband had passed. Once the door closed you fetched your lunch out of your bag. You didn’t feel like eating, but you knew you had to. If not your energy would be drained at the end of the day. After the first bite you started hearing noises outside. Erin was almost yelling outside your door. You stood up, wanting to investigate what the commotion was. Before you could take one step the door swung open. And there he stood, your nightmare for the last couple of days.

“I told him you were busy, Dr. y/l/n! I told him he couldn’t enter!”

Erin said hopelessly behind him. He was soaking wet from the rain. His hair plastered itself to his forehead. And his black shirt did the same to his abdomen. He didn’t move, he was just staring at you with a furious look in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Erin. I’ll handle this.”

Erin looked at Jungkook worriedly before looking back to you. She held up two fingers. You nodded, and she left.

“Sit.”

You said, as you yourself sat down behind your desk. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. He continued to lure near the door.

“You interrupt my lunch again, I don’t want this to become a habit.”

“Please, spear me the bullshit.”

He said, and you went quiet. Wanting him to say whatever he came here for.

“How did you do it?”

He said after some time. You looked confused at him. Not understanding what he was referring to.

“Did what?”

You asked in almost a sharp tone. You were annoyed. He let out a small laugh, it almost sounded like a sneer.

“You’re cute when you’re angry with me.”

He started slowly walking towards you.

“But I need to know how you did it, y/n.”

He stopped once he reached the end of your desk. You looked up at him.

“What did I do?”

You ask again. He puts his palms on the table and lean closer to you. You don’t move, trying to prove to him and yourself that you’re not scared.

“You figured out a side of me I never understood I had. If I, the person that’s bearing this disease didn’t know. How come you knew?”

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. He was clearly distressed. Maybe even more than what you had been for the last days. And for some reason it pleased you.

“I told you, this is what I do. This is my job.”

You could tell he was conflicted in what to do next. You could practically see the way the wheels were turning inside his head. But eventually he sat down.

“I studied the human mind for six years to be able to understand things not even you are aware of.”

He scowled at you as you talked to him in a harsh tone.

“I’ve done research, and I’ve written books about this, that you have read may I add. What made you think that I wasn’t capable?”

He didn’t answer. The two of you just stared at each other.

“This is not a session, I demand answers, Jungkook.”

His eyes lit up when he heard his name fall off your tongue.

“Like I said, I underestimated you.”

He answered short.

“You didn’t answer my other question.”

You stated. He looked confused at you.

“The question from the other night. What do you want?”

He started laughing. You did not find it funny, and watched him as his fit of laughter died down.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious! You’re telling me that you were able to diagnose me with some bullshit, while I was pretending to be something else. But you’re not able to see the fact that I want you.”

The room got quiet. For the first time in a long time you felt completely speechless. He moved to get up from the sofa, but stopped the second he saw you roll your chair further away from him. He could tell you were afraid now, there was no point in acting tough.

“Come here.”

He said with a smirk and patted his thigh this time. There was still fight in you though.

“You’re disgusting.”

You uttered. He sneered at your comment.

“You’ve exploited me for your own satisfaction this entire time.”

You looked strictly at him, as he sighed.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re constantly on my mind. Day and night. And it’s awful!”

“That’s called an obsession.”

“I know what it’s called!”

He bit back. You went quiet, waiting for him to give you more information.

“The only way I can get a break is after i come to the thought of you. It usually takes around three times until I’m too tired to think of you.”

You couldn’t hide your disgust from your facial expression anymore. Looking at him as if he was a rat on the street.

“And then I thought if that helps, the real deal would help even more.”

He got up from the sofa now. You stayed seated, your hand slowly moving across your desk towards the telephone.

“I need you, y/n.”

You broke eye contact and looked down to hit the right number for the front desk. Jungkook quickly understood what happened and pushed the stationary phone off the desk. It fell to the floor with a bang, breaking it on impact. You got up quickly, wanting to distance yourself from him.

“How did you know? About the phone, about me. We never met before our sessions. Why? I don’t understand.”

You blurted out in pure stress of the situation. He smiled as he started walking towards the side of the desk. You walked the other way, wanting to keep the desk between the two of you. He chuckled.

“You’re cute when you’re confused too.”

You continued walking backwards. Trying to keep as much distance from him, while he tries to close it.

“I’ve followed you for a long time, baby. A very long time.”

The two of you had walked an entire round around the desk now. He jumped down onto the sofa again. His hand gracing the sofa cushions beside him.

“Do you want to know the full story?”

You knew what he was hinting at. Your entire body was screaming not to get anywhere near him. But you needed to know. He didn’t have anything to hold back now, you were certain he would tell you the truth. So you walked towards the sofa, carefully sitting down beside him. You took a second to compose yourself before looking at him. Signalising that’s you were ready. He smiled.

“I have known you since we both were children. Your father was my brothers shrink. He´s the one that had PTSD. I saw you for the first time in the hotel lobby after your father had finished his session with my brother. You were maybe 6 and sat there for so long, waiting for your father to return. When I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. We were soulmates. And for the first time in my life I felt something for someone.”

He grabbed your hand. You quickly out of reflex tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He tugged your hand harshly towards him and your entire upper body followed. Without your hand to catch you, you fell straight into his chest. His other hand sneaked around your waist as you composed yourself.

“Let me go.”

You said annoyed, placing your hand on his chest to keep a distance.

“If you want to hear the rest, you have to play by my rules, baby.”

His eyes focused on your lips as he whispered to you. You shook your head.

“I don’t need to know the rest. I can make out the sob story on my own. Boy falls in love, boy doesn’t get girl.”

He shook his head and let go of your waist. You quickly sat back up, brushing off imaginary dust from your lap.

“You should show me some respect.”

He said with a serious tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyebrows.

“I’m not scared of you.”

He chuckled at your comment, placing his hand around the back of the sofa.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me either. I just think that you should show the man you owe your life to some respect.”

He touched your shoulder, drawing small circles on your jumper.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

He smirked.

“Oh, but you do. I made you the person you are today. Without me you wouldn’t be here.”

You sighed tiredly at him.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You got up from your seat and walked back to your desk. Starting to pack up your stuff. You were so done with him. He needed help, but you would no longer treat him. You decided as much.

“I need to get out of here, if you’re not gone when I’m back I’ll call the police.”

You put your bag over your shoulder, ready to walk away.

“How did you get into Yale, Doctor?”

He asked out of the blue. You stopped in your tracks.

“What? Why?”

He shrugged.

“Just seems so weird that someone with your grades would be able to attend any Ivy League school. Don’t you agree?”

You went quiet. Not knowing where he wanted this conversation to go.

“And don’t you think it’s weird how you always got A’s even when you were out partying instead of studying?”

You thought back to the years when you were studying. You originally did only apply to Yale just because your father went there. You didn’t think you actually was going to make it, because your grades were mediocre.

“What are you saying?”

“You have no idea how many people I had to blackmail to get you there. How many men I had follow you constantly. How many professors I had to bribe to make them give you a good grade. I’ve spent millions on you, y/n!”

Your mind was racing. You didn’t understand anything. Was your entire life a lie?

“I have to give it to you. Your first book made it without my help. But when you came out with your second book, and it wasn’t a success right away. I bought almost half the copies and payed a hefty amount of money to make it a New York Times best seller.”

You dropped your bag in awe. What he was saying made a lot of sense. You started rethinking every significant moment in your life. Wondering if he was behind it all. He got up from his seat and started moving towards you. But this time you didn’t step back. You let him come close to you.

“I’ve done so much for you, baby. Why are you so ungrateful?”

You looked up at him. He was now standing right in front of you. So close that you could almost feel his breath on your skin.

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this. You can’t keep me in debt for something I-“

You struggled with continuing the sentence. The reality of his words hit you, and your tears threatened to spill.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m not asking for much, considering what I’ve given you.”

He whispered calmly. His hands found your waist. He took one step closer to you and placed his forehead against yours.

“All I want is you, right here on this sofa, showing me how grateful you are.”

You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore, letting them slowly drip down your cheeks. One of his hands abandoned your waist to wipe away the hot tears on your cheek. You looked into his eyes as he continued to hold your face.

“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”

His eyes focus on your lips and how close you were. He had never been this close to you.

“I can never leave you. You’re my soulmate.”

He simply answered. You looked down at the floor.

“Jungkook, you’re delusional. You have to stop.”

“How can I stop? Huh? You’re the only one that matters in my life!”

You continued looking at the floor, even when he pushed himself off you in his fit of rage.

“I fucking love you!”

You shook your head, looking up at him this time.

“You don’t love me! You don’t even know me! You’ve created this illusion in your head that we are meant to be, but we’re not!”

You yelled back at him angrily.

“You’ve interfered in my life when I didn’t ask you to! You don’t have the right to do that!”

“And where would you be without me?”

He argued back.

“You act like you don’t care! But you know that without my help you wouldn’t be anything. You would’ve been a nobody.”

His words stung. What he was saying was the truth. The hard truth. You would have never made it to college. Never gotten this job. Never been a successful author. Never followed in your fathers footsteps and made him proud. You heard Jungkook sigh.

“I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth.”

He said dejectedly. You took a deep breath. Realising what you had to do.

“I’ll do it.”

You simply said and met his eyes.

“I’ll have sex with you once, but after this I need you to stop.”

“Baby-“

“Listen to me! I’ll find you another psychologist. I want you to go to there and get help. When your treatment is over-“

You stopped for a second. Contemplating if you wanted to commit to the promise you were about to make.

“I’ll meet you again. To talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”

His eyes lit up and he swiftly lifted you in a hug. Letting out small sounds of excitement and shaking you around a little. You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish action. After a moment he put you down again, but continued to hold your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you say, baby. I’ll do anything for you.”

Your hands found his strong chest. You kept the eye contact, but your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips for a split second. And that’s all he needed to kiss you. It started slow, but quickly got hotter. Your hands slid around his neck, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss. He stepped backwards. You were taken aback by the sudden movement, but followed his lead. He guided the two of you to the sofa. The same sofa he had sat in every time he came to your sessions. He broke the kiss to jump down on the sofa. He looked up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He had been waiting for this for many years, and finally he had you. He reached out for you as you straddled his lap, feeling his already hard cock between the fabric of your trousers. His hands moved down to your ass. Grabbing it the second he had a chance, and letting out a satisfied groan. You reached down to the hem of your top and pulled it off.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

He said with half lidded eyes as he watched your bare skin. You smirked at his comment and reached for his shirt as well. He lifted his back off the sofa to help you get it off. Once it was off you started examining his tattoos. Tracing his arm with your finger all the way up to his shoulder. You stopped once you saw the little circular scar. Your entire body froze as you remembered his words from your last session. “My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder. But he shot her in the head.”. He looked at you confused for a second, before he looked at his shoulder where your eyes were glued. He understood what you were thinking.

“You killed your family.”

You said and looked back at him. He was already shaking his head.

“The man was you. You killed them.”

You tried to get up from his lap, suddenly scared of the killer you were straddling. But he held you down with a strong grip.

“Baby calm down, let me explain.”

You continued to struggle. Not listening to his words.

“Y/n!”

He suddenly screamed. Getting your attention. He sighed.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

You started struggling again, now hitting his chest as well. He quickly flipped the two of you. Pushing you down onto the sofa with his own body weight. Holding your wrists harshly.

“So what if I killed them? It doesn’t take away from the fact that you still owe me this!”

He looked dangerous on top of you like that. A single tear fell down the side of your cheek. He was right yet again. He kissed you tenderly. It was a sharp contrast to the tone in his voice.

“You still owe me your body.”

He started kissing down your neck. Eagerly taking one of your boobs in his hand. His crotch grinded against you for a second before you heard him curse under his breath.

“I’ll have to taste you another time. I can’t fucking wait any longer to be inside you.”

He started working on your jeans. Ripping them off in a hasty speed together with your panties. He quickly loosened his belt and repeated the action on himself. His cock sprung free, but you weren’t able to look at it for more than a second before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He was big, but he took little to no time for you to adjust, as he started thrusting into you with brutal force.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He moaned, stopping his motion to spit on your pussy. Using it as lubricant. He continued quickly after. Moans and heavy breathing filled your office as the two of you strived to reach your orgasms. He reached down and started rubbing your clit. Almost overstimulating you.

“I’ve waited for this for so long, baby. You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You felt a familiar knot building in your lower stomach. The rapid speed of his hands and the stretching of his cock making you come closer to release quicker than ever.

“I need to come inside you. I need to fill you up, baby.”

You nodded. Not knowing or caring what you said yes to. You were already on cloud nine and needed him to continue whatever he was doing.

“Say my name.”

You understood he was close, and you were too.

“Jungkook!”

You moaned as your orgasm washed over you. You legs clenched around him, and your hands found his arms. Digging your nails into his skin. He came the second he heard his name escape your mouth. He let you ride out your orgasm, before he fell on top of you. You felt his breath go back to normal as he nuzzled into your neck. The two of you laid there in serenity for a while. Just feeling each others heartbeats and listening to each others breathing.

He would do as you told him. He would go see someone. He would do whatever it took to have you like that again. He would never let you go. You owed him this after all.

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Masterlist

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