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rest-upon-the-morning-light · 3 years

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JonMartin fic

So I’m trying to get back into fic writing, especially for TMA, and have a multi chapter fic planned but wanted to start with a smaller one shot style fic to warm up. It’s been an age since I’ve written anything, much less something that wasn’t just reader based or smut lmao. I’ve added trigger warnings but if I missed any do let me know!

Any feedback would be great and if you like this, please send me prompts! Happy to write anything from fluff to smut, just as long as its TMA based :D

So! Here is my cute fluff JonMartin fic! Enjoy~

Everybody Wants To Be A Cat

Word Count: 2240

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Animal Abuse, but nothing to graphic. Anxiety. Self Worth Issues. Season 1 Jon being Season 1 Jon. Season 1 Martin being Season 1 Martin.

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood

Summary: Martin was certain of two things. One, he had an enormous crush on his boss. Two, his boss hated him. Who knew a one eyed beast of an alley cat would bring them closer?

Martin Blackwood has two problems.

Problem number one. He was absolutely certain he was more than a little bit in love with his boss.

Problem number two. His was absolutely certain said boss hated him.

Well, hated was probably a strong word. Hated implied that Jon thought of him at all, and it was far more likely that Jon thought of him very little throughout his day. Except, of course, when Martin did something wrong. Then those piercing eyes of his would be solely fixed on him whilst he shouted about how inept Martin was or how stupid his mistake had been.

It hurt, those moments. It hurt that the only time Jon ever truly seemed to see Martin was when he was angry at him. Not when Martin did an amazing follow up on a statement. Not when he’d created a great rapport with a statement giver or their family. Not when he brought Jon tea. Just when he did something wrong.

It was a running theme in this annoyance Martin called his life.

He still couldn’t help these feelings though. Jon was an arse half the time that much was true. It infuriated Tim to know end when Jon would lash out at Martin. “He has no right Martin. Mistake or not he’s your boss, he’s supposed to help you, not act like a massive dick all the time”

It was harder for Tim and Sasha in a way. They’d been Jon’s equal for a long time, working together. Moving to the Archive was always going to be a bit of a challenge. To have friend become boss. Especially for Sasha, who everyone thought was going to be become Head Archivist. But neither had held any real resentment over Jon for the change. After all, it wasn’t his choice, it was Elias’s.

But Jon’s sudden shift from rude but mostly recluse and occasionally friendly colleague to rude very recluse and stick constantly up arse boss was harder than any of them expected.

Martin could understand. It was big position and Jon seemed like the type to take everything he did very seriously. This meant holding everything in the archive to a high standard. His assistance included.

So yes, Jon was awful to him a lot of the time. But he was passionate. He cared. For all his blustering that none of this was real, Martin could see how much he empathised with the people who had given those statements. How he looked like he’d personally failed them when a follow up revealed they had died not longer after they’d come to visit the institute.

His crush probably wasn’t the most healthy but sue him! He liked being a bit in love. He liked having inspiration for his poetry. He enjoyed the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he came into work.

He just wished Jon didn’t quite hate. No. Didn’t quite dislike him so much.

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There is a cat that has been hiding the alleyway behind the Institute for several days now.

Martin noticed the poor thing when he’d been taking out some rubbish that accumulated in the Archive. Usually that sort of thing wasn’t his job, but he’d been done for the day anyway and he liked to be useful, even if no one really noticed.

It was a mangy young thing. Light brown fur matted, one eye seemed to be damaged and it hissed every time Martin so much as approached it.

He couldn’t just leave it though. Poor thing needed help. It was out here, lonely, forgotten, damaged by the people that probably at one point said they’d love and protect it.

Was he projecting onto a stray cat now? God this was a new level of sad.

So he did what someone in his position did best. He researched.

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There is a surprising number of places to buy cat supplies near the Institute and the workers in the shop were incredibly helpful with his questions.

Approach slowly. Don’t try to touch or hold the cat. Leave out food and water. He’d also bought a small plastic hut and shoved a warm blanket inside for the large cat. He didn’t know what breed it was. Just that it was grumpy and hurt.

It didn’t take a great deal away from his own funds either. His job paid well enough and he didn’t exactly go out with people very often, buying expensive drinks or tickets to shows.

His special treat was usually some sugar drenched coffee.

He couldn’t see any physical injuries on the cat, apart from its eye, so he put some treats in the hut, left out the food and water, then left.

He came back everyday with more supplies to keep the large growling cat comfortable. Every day that passed the cat came a little bit closer to him. He grinned at that. Hoping one day it would come close enough to pet.

He’d read somewhere that when cats blink, once and slow, it was a sign that they trusted you. Martin waited for that day with bated breath.

Tim and Sasha were a little bit suspicious as to where he was going on his lunch breaks. He told them he just taking a long walk, getting some fresh air away from the dusty old archives but he knew it wasn’t the best lie.

Lying for the sake of his job was one thing. Lying to his friends for no good reason was another.

It wasn’t like he doing anything bad. It was more that he wanted this for himself. He wasn’t even too sure why. Part of him wondered if he was worried the cat would somehow take some natural liking to either one of them or both. He didn’t want to lose all his hard work.

Or, if he was being more honest with himself, he didn’t want the cat to abandon him for someone better.

Yeah. New level of pathetic had been reached.

But one lunch, a few weeks after he’d first spotted the broken but massive feline, that the lying and the ill feeling became absolutely worth it.

Because the cat approached him.

Martin didn’t move a single muscle. He was sat on a small wooden box in the alley. Far enough away as to not frighten the poor thing, but close enough that the cat could make contact if it wanted to.

And today it did.

He held his breath the closer it got, keeping eye contact with its good eye the whole time. It paused for a moment, right in the front of his bent legs, before it let out a small mirp noise and butted its head against his knee.

“Oh hello” Martin laughed, chest feeling lighter than it had in an exceptionally long time.

He reached out his hand slowly to pet its head and let out another sign of relief when the one eyed cat let him.

“Well” he began

“I can’t very well keep calling you cat or beast in my head, you’ll need a name”.

It didn’t acknowledge his words in any way, just continued to let him scratch behind its ears and watched him with its one working eye. He could almost imagine its thoughts.

“Silly Martin, just come up with one already. Stop wasting time”.

He let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a name ready on his lips.

“Jon” he smiled gently.

“I think I’ll call you Jon”.

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It went well after that. Martin made plans to keep the cat. It would help the dreariness of his lonely flat, and he was lucky his landlord allowed pets in his building.

He couldn’t afford proper insurance but the workers at the pet shop knew an emergency vet that wasn’t too expensive, so he could get Cat Jon’s eye checked out soon.

Giddy as he was with his newfound friend, he didn’t realise that he’d been less subtle than usual about where he was going on his break.

It was one grey, wet Wednesday that it all came to ahead.

He’d been sitting crossed legged on the ground, his coat below him as a sort of makeshift blanket to keep his trousers dry, when Human Jon found them.

He hadn’t even noticed Jon had followed him until the backdoor that led the alley burst open with a bang that echoed down the narrow way.

“Martin” shouted Jon, looking at some papers in his hand.

“I need you to take your lunch late and follow up on this report. You made several errors in your research that, frankly, a child could spot. I don’t know what you’re doing out here but if you have time to sit around then –“

Jon’s rant was cut short as he finally looked up to the picture that greeted him.

Cat Jon had leaped into his arms from the loud noise, clinging to Martin’s bright yellow sweater.

Martin froze, cat in arms as Jon stared at him with a look of equal shock.

“Oh” began Jon softly

“Sorry” Martin practically shouted.

“I – eh – this is, well um, a cat, I found? A few weeks ago, actually. I’ve been sort of taking care of it? Getting it food and water and um” he gestured to the plastic hut and blanket he’d laid out.

“He was hurt you see. Only one eye and really badly taken care of. Abandoned, I recon. So I’ve been out here on lunches making sure he’s, um, that he’s okay? Is that..is that alright?” he trailed off nervously.

He couldn’t look at Jon. It wasn’t exactly something to be ashamed of, taking care of a stray cat. But he could imagine Jon being the sort of serious no nonsense person who would see it as a waste of time, his lunch break or not. God would this make his relationship worse? Would Jon scold him for it? Did it make him seem more pathetic than before? Christ, was that even possible?

He didn’t notice the movement until Jon was sat beside him on the floor.

Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, sat on a dirty alley floor with Martin K Blackwood.

He watched with bated breath as Human Jon reached his hand out to Cat Jon and let out a small sound of relief when Cat Jon didn’t bite, scratch or run away.

“You poor thing” murmured Jon, eyes only on his (unknowing) cat counterpart.

“What have they done to you? Well, you look better now than you probably did before. Thank to our Martin here”.

Martin couldn’t help but blush deeply at that. Hot all over his face. He couldn’t handle this. Jon being all, all soft and gentle and calling him “our” Martin.

“You’ve been taking care of him then?” Jon looked up at Martin now. Eyes soft and kind for once. It nearly took all of Martins brain power to respond after receiving such a look.

“Yes” he began.

“Like I said, I found him a few weeks ago. Planning on taking him back to mine soon, get him out of the cold properly”.

Jon nodded, eyes never leaving Martins, hand firmly petting the cat in Martins arms.

“I’m sorry, about the work” Martin nervously bit his lip.

“I’ve been really worried about him so I rushed it to get out here on time. It’s no excuse and I know you don’t exactly think highly of my work in the first place. I’ll make sure I stay late tonight so I can catch up”

“Martin” interrupted Jon, eye straying on the bitten lip, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t been fair to you these past few months. It’s been unprofessional at best and, well, and downright cruel at worst”

“Your job is stressful” Martin tried to defend

“And we both know I’m not exactly at the same standard at the others”

“Still” Jon continued.

“It’s my job to help you, not, berate you at every mistake. You came from the library, not research, so you have different skill set and – well, its been hard for us all. Not fair of me to put all that blame on you. God knows Tim could stand to be a bit more professional at times” Jon grumbled out the last part, a small pout to his lips.

Martin laughed at that, smiling wider than he could last remember.

“Tim just likes to keep you human, I think” he winked and watched with fascination as the flush came back to Jon’s dark cheeks.

Cat Jon leap out of his arms after that, toddling off to who knows where.

“Well” Martin began, getting up from his cross legged position on the floor.

“We still have time for lunch, we could, um, maybe eat together? If that’s okay I mean! You could help me figure out a name for him?” “You don’t have one already?” replied Jon, surprise in his voice “Uhhh not any suitable ones, no” Martin laughed awkwardly.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d name the poor blighter after Jon. He doubted Jon would take it as a compliment and he didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’d stumbled onto.

He held out his hand to help Jon off the floor. Jon eyed it, before bringing his own hand up and placing it into Martins larger ones. Martin pulled him up and held back a small gasp as Jon shot forward quicker than intended, his smaller hand landing on Martin chest.

Jon looked up at him, a small shy smile gracing his lips.

“Beautiful” Martin couldn’t help but think, face and ears bright red.

Jon pulled back, coughing every so slightly into his fist.

“Yes, well, I’ve named a cat or two in my time, it won’t be too hard” “Oh?” teased Martin

“What about Magnus? We did find him here” Jon shook his head at that, crinkling his nose slightly.

“Absolutely not, something more dignified. The Captain maybe?” “Captain?” countered Martin

“The Captain” continued Jon as they began to head back inside

“I suppose the one eye does give him a bit of a pirate look” Martin couldn’t help by laugh slightly as he said it.

“Yes” Jon laughed back

“Dignified but still fitting his nature” And off they went, back into the Institute. Unaware of any monstrous eyes watching them as they simply watched each other. A new, wonderful feeling developing between them.

Neither noticed that they still held each others hands as they made their way to the break room.

And if they spoke of cat names, and toys and flushed deeply when they did notice the hands still entwined, well.

Those moments were only for them.

#the magnus archives #tma #writing #fanfiction #jon and martin both project onto the same cat #cats just sat there like #pls someone fucking take me home #kiss already #jonmartin #god i love soft moments for them #hope you guys enjoy!#pls send me prompts they feed me #my writing

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lvcychen · 4 years

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Tripdaisy + road trip

Wooooow would you look a that! I’ve written an actual fic for the first time in almost three years! That being said, I’m suuper rusty in terms of writin so this is probably... not great, lmao. Please bear with me. I’m so so sorry this prompt (along with MANY others) has been sitting in my ask box for so long. I’m not sure anyone really cares for this anymore, but it was still fun writing it, haha!

Here it goes:

Miles and miles of open road are stretching out before her, pink and golden rays of light from the setting sun reflecting in her rearview mirror. They are somewhere in what feels like the middle of nowhere – Wyoming, maybe? Or Nebraska? She can’t really tell anymore. – and it’s been hours since they came across another car. Without taking her eyes off the road, Daisy reaches for the button on the door and lets down the window to feel the evening air on her skin before it cools down.

Trip is asleep on the passenger seat next to her, his face turned towards the window, catching the last glimpses of sunlight. He looks so peaceful, Daisy thinks to herself, you would never guess that he had been shot less than 24 hours ago. Sure, it had been a clean shot to the upper arm, leaving nothing more than a flesh wound, but nevertheless, a chill runs down Daisy’s spine at the memory of watching him go down, and for a second, she can almost hear her own bloodcurdling scream resonating in her ears.

In midst of all the chaos of the mission, the two of them had gotten separated from the rest of the team, with no functioning communication and unable to make it back to the Zephyr before May had extracted the plane, leaving Daisy to tend to Trip’s wound on her own. And now here they are, in a stolen SUV, with stolen backpacks and a stolen change of clothes on the backseat, a Welcome to Nebraska road sign flashing by outside the window, as they’re crossing the country to rejoin their team on base.

“Do you need me to drive for a while?”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Daisy swerves on the empty road for just a second before redirecting the car back into her lane.

“Jesus, Trip”, she hisses, “give a girl a warning, maybe.”

His chuckle is deep and quiet and it sends goosebumps crawling over her arms. “My bad”, he says, as he props himself up in his seat. There is a brief trace of pain in his voice, and it would’ve been inaudible to the untrained ear, but Daisy knows him well enough to catch it, anyway.

For just a moment, she lifts her eyes off of the road to glance at him. Trip’s jaw is tightened, the brows over his dark, glazed-over eyes furrowed, and his breathing comes out shallower than usual. He’s okay, Daisy has to remind herself at the sight of him, he’s safe and he’ll stay that way.

“Daisy?”

His voice once again has her snapping out of her thoughts. “Hm?”

“Want me to drive?”

She shakes her head with as much conviction as she can manage, despite the fact that she can feel herself getting tired and she knows she’ll need a break soon. “You got shot in the arm, Trip.” Though she hadn’t meant it to, it comes out sounding almost like an accusation. “I’m not letting you get behind the wheel.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.”

And just as he says it, she feels a yawn rising in her chest. She tries to suppress it, but it’s a lost cause. “I’m okay, really.”

Trip sighs, but his voice is soft, as always, and it prompts a feeling of relief to overcome her. He reaches out and his hand lands on her shoulder. “C’mon girl. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His words are so simple, but they’re all it takes for her to let down her guard. She leans into his touch, and the fatigue washes over her body like a tidal wave. She yawns again, in full force this time, and mumbles: “I’m still not letting you drive though.”

“Dais-“, Trip begins to protest, but she won’t let him finish. Instead, she nods to the road sign they’re coming up on. “Look.”

The letters on the rusty, once-had-been-green sign are hardly recognizable anymore, but right next to it towers another, much newer sign, that clearly reads Western Wallflower Motel.

“We’ll take a room”, Daisy declares, her tone of voice not allowing any argument. “Get a good night’s sleep and continue driving in the morning. Deal?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

No fifteen minutes later, Daisy maneuvers the SUV into the parking lot in front of what has to be the tiniest, shabbiest motel known to mankind. The dull, purple paint is chipping off of the badly painted outside walls, the windows are lined with a thick layer of dust, and the lamps illuminating the building are flickering sporadically.

“This looks like a scene straight out of Psycho”, Daisy mumbles as she shuts off the engine. Without the car’s headlights, the place looks even creepier than it had just a minute ago.

Trip laughs while the two of them get out of the car. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll protect you from any ghosts.”

Daisy halts mid-stretch, her eyebrows moving up towards her hairline. “Ghosts?”

Trip pulls the backseat door open to grab the bags they had hastily stuffed with giftshop shirts and sweatpants to sleep in. He shrugs his shoulders apologetically. “I’ve never actually seen Psycho.”

Still chuckling, they walk over to the glass door with a handwritten paper sign that reads Reception hanging on the inside. When they enter, the teenage girl sitting behind the desk doesn’t seem to notice them, too entranced by the bright light of her phone screen. Standing right in front of the desk, Trip clears his throat loudly in order to draw attention to them, but the girl only chews on her chewing gum harder. Trip and Daisy exchange a look, more amused than anything else. Then, Daisy reaches for the little metal bell on the counter and pounds her fingers down on it a couple times, drawing a series of shrill Ding sounds from it.

Finally, the girl peels her eyes off of her phone and raises her head. With a long sigh, she gets up from her chair and plasters a fake smile onto her face. “Welcome to Western Wallflower Motel”, she recites monotonously, “what can I do for you tonight?”

“Just a room for the night”, Trip explains, leaning himself over the counter slightly and flashing his best brighter-than-the-sun smile at the girl, “please.” Daisy has to hold in a laugh that bubbles up in her chest. She might think his move was ridiculous if it didn’t work on herself every single time.

Immediately, the expression on the teenager’s face become more genuine and Daisy could swear she sees a flush creeping up on her cheeks. “Of course, Sir. However, we only have a one-bed suite left for tonight. But I’m sure you and your… girlfriend won’t mind?”

Now a small snort does escape Daisy’s mouth. Sure, they like to flirt with each other every chance they get and Daisy has had an undeniable crush on Trip for longer than she’d like to admit to herself, but they’re not together together. Trip pretends not to hear her. Instead, all he says is: “We don’t mind at all.”

“Great”, the girl says and picks up one of the keys hanging on the wall behind her. “Your room number will be 201. There are towels up there for you and I’m down here if there’s anything else you need. You can pay in the morning.”

When they finally make it up the stairs and into the room, which is surprisingly clean and well taken care of, Daisy immediately drops down onto the bed with a huff of relief and closes her eyes for a short moment. The bed is a bit small, but she doesn’t mind that at all. She’d shared a bed with Trip before, and especially after the events that got them here, she’s glad for the opportunity to feel him close to her.

When she opens her eyes again, Trip is standing at the foot of the bed, one of their bags unzipped next to him, and his shirt tossed aside on the floor. He’s changed into one of the sweatpants that have the logo of the gift shop printed down one of the legs, but has apparently opted against a shirt. In the dim light of the motel room, Daisy can practically see the exhaustion written across his face, but what really catches her attention is the bandage in contrast to his dark skin. He must have redressed his wound – How long had her eyes been closed? – because the white fabric is wrapped around his upper arm much more neatly than what she had managed to do in the hurry they’d been in.

“Like what you see?”

Daisy shifts her eyes from Trip’s arm to his face, and is met with a smug grin. “You know I do”, she shoots back with a wink.

He tosses her a fresh shirt and says. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice and quickly changes out of her dirty clothes and into the clean top.

They settle into bed easily, and as soon as they’re lying down next to each other, Daisy can sense the tension drain from Trip’s body as if someone had pulled the plug out of a bathtub. They’re lying close enough for Daisy to feel his breathing become more relaxed, and eventually turn slow and steady, making her think he had drifted off. She hadn’t consciously waited to fall asleep until he did, but it had been another act of reassuring herself that he was just fine, alive and breathing right beside her.

Just when she is finally ready to succumb to her own exhaustion, she hears Trip’s voice quietly in the dark: “Can I hold you?”

His words make Daisy’s heart flutter and her chest suddenly feels all fuzzy on the inside. Instead of an answer, she rolls onto her side, crawling closer to him, and tucks herself into his chest. Immediately, his good arm wraps around her middle and she can feel him bury his face n her hair, right where the crook of her neck is. His smell is so warm and familiar and an overwhelming sense of home floods through her. Blindly, she reaches for his hand and entwines her fingers with his.

Daisy is so grateful for this closeness, for the feeling of Trip’s skin against hers, the warmth of his breath on her neck. She’s grateful for the heaving of his chest against her back, a new proof of life every couple of seconds.

This time, they fall asleep simultaneously, tightly entangled with each other.

They can worry about getting home in the morning. For tonight, he is all the home she needs.

#sarah writes #my tripdaisy stuff #tripdaisy fic #tripskye fic #legacyquake fic #tripdaisy #tripskye #legacyquake #trip x daisy #trip x skye #daisy x trip #skye x trip #antoine triplett #daisy johnson #skye #agents of shield #aos #aos fic #agents of shield fic

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welovekpopscenarios · 7 years

Text

Mine (Jungkook x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Hello! Could I request a Jungkook smut where he gives you a very rough spanking becuase you obliviously made him jealous. Like it wasn't on purpose, it was because you are way too innocent and didn't realize you made him jealous. Please, if you are unconfortable, just let me know and I'll change my request

-AND-

Hai!! Could you do a smut with jungkook where he gets jealous of the other members being around/comfortable with you XD make em super possessive during the nasty, love😩💕

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: spanking, language?, sex (obviously lmao)

Word Count: 3809

Authors Note: Woahh, so this is the first smut I’ve written holy moly (ravioli ravioli give me the formuoli lmao) so I hope this was good enough! I kinda made it CEO!Jungkook, because I drew inspiration from the gif (I could stare at it for days oml halp), and I also combined two asks I got for Jungkook since they were similar. I hope I did my bias justice and wrote a good smut for him lol. Enjoy, as always, and feedback is appreciated! If there are any errors please let me know! Happy reading ^^

“No way, baby girl. I think you need to be punished.”

You watched as he made his way to the edge of the bed, loosening his tie as he went, and gulped. He sat down, zeroed his dark eyes on yours, pointed to his lap, and gave one command.

“Bend over.”

What did you do to deserve such a punishment? Well, let’s go back to the beginning.

Jeon Jungkook was one of the most successful businessmen in Korea despite being a tender age of 19, on the cusp of 20. After inheriting his father’s business at 16 when he passed away suddenly, Jungkook was thrust into a world of numbers, markets and shady business deals – a world he was not educated in. But Jungkook had determination. And this determination to become one of the best drove him to completely reinvent his father’s company in a new, modern image, quickly rocketing him to position of wealth and popularity in his home country and internationally.

Now, four years later, the company is still going strong, with new partnerships being forged and deals finalised. A partnership Jungkook did not expect, was his partnership with you. When you first joined the company two years ago, you were just an assistant. Not even an assistant of his, far too inexperienced at the time to keep up with his endless schedule. Just an assistant of some head in a lower department of his company. You should have been unnoticeable. Except for a meeting that resulted in changing your life and his.

It happened on the day Jungkook called a rare emergency meeting. A rival business had created a scandal in an effort to diminish Jeon & Co.’s light, desperate to gain back the fame they once claimed. So, he called in the head of each department in his company, wanting to get a solution to this problem before the flames of deceit could spread and the company could remain on top.

Despite the apparent seriousness of the situation, the meeting was quite relaxed, all head’s joking around with their assistants standing behind them, seated at the large conference table on the top floor, top to floor glass windows covering the area and giving the perfect view of the economical kingdom Jeon Jungkook ruled over.

Jungkook was normally a focused man when it came to his business and his meetings, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to you every so often, strangely drawn to the seemingly indifferent presence you bring to the room. He takes note of how…normal you are. Normal, but endlessly beautiful to his eyes. It almost causes a chuckle to pass his lips, the absurdity of how you don’t fit in with the top dogs of business and finance bringing amusement to him. It’s charming, in a way, your eyes wide and scanning the room, heat rising to your cheeks and ears occasionally, and how you furiously write down notes, eager to learn and do a good job in the presence of the higher ups.

As the meeting progresses, Jungkook makes an interesting discovery. The keenness and purity you display in the meeting is not a once off occurrence: it’s seemingly in your nature. The only words coming to mind when Jungkook takes note of your confused features when one of the members of the meeting makes a particularly crude joke is honest. Good. Innocent. And it only intrigues Jungkook even more.

He’s no stranger to women. He meets with them all the time, in the company, at business parties, through acquaintances; but they’re all the same. They’re all vixens, out to dominate him and control his will, and he hates it. He’s partial to a woman taking the reins from time to time (the pleasure tends to outweigh the trouble), but it’s never satisfying, nothing more than a quick fuck, and then he’s back to work the next day. The women don’t usually contact him again. Out of sight, out of mind.

So, when he lays eyes on you that day at the meeting, he’s captivated, and Jungkook is a man who knows what he wants.

As it turns out, (from his observations), your nervous disposition near your boss is due to his harassment of you and women in general, something that Jungkook does not tolerate in his company. So, he waits. Waits until the end of the meeting, after everyone has stood up, ready to make their exit, when he garners the attention of the people in the room and your boss, a man who’s name Jungkook doesn’t even know, and fires him publicly, on the spot. The man stutters and splutters, begging for his job back, making a show of himself in front of an audience, but Jungkook shrugs off his pleas, explains his reasons for firing him, and allows everyone to make their leave. He is easily replaceable, his personal assistant already making calls to find a backup, and he adds another task to his assistants never-ending list; the task to move you to a higher position (one near him), and to find you suitable work.

By the next week he’s passed you in the halls more times than he can count, so he stops one day, strikes up a conversation, eventually asks for a date after days of amiable chatting and shy smiles from you, and now two years later you’ve become one of the most well-known women in the world; all because you fell in love with Jungkook as hard as he fell for you.

You’ve been by his side through thick and thin, supporting him and being a shoulder to lean on that he never knew he desperately needed in first place. You loved him, more than he probably deserved, and in turn you became his world, his light, the only person he needed. Someone he wanted to have and protect for all his days. He is your shield, of sorts, your innocent nature only furthering his need to have you all to himself. Jungkook was never a jealous man, not one to take interest in the cat and mouse game women tried to play with him (Jungkook was not one to be considered a mouse), but you were a whole different story.

Only you could unleash the envious monster hidden inside him.

A man of Jungkook’s notoriety is expected to attend various glamorous events in his life, ranging from red carpets, photoshoots, new openings, and his most frequent one; charity balls. You attended each and every single one of them with him, an arm linked around his or his hand on the small of your back.

This one was no different. Another ball held in order to raise money for hospitals around the country, a noble cause, one that many are more than happy to contribute too. Numerous celebrities and wealthy businessmen make an appearance at the ball, be it as a PR stunt or simply out of the goodness of their hearts, these balls are nothing short of extravagant and honoured.

Among those attending the ball, Jungkook’s closest friends and workers also show face in this grand event, men you have met a handful of times but treated you as close as they would Jungkook (“Anyone who makes Jungkook happy is a friend of ours”). You recognise them instantly as you stand next to Jungkook, the both of you dressed up in the finest brands money can buy. Jimin notices you both first, sending a nod in Jungkook’s direction and an eye-curling smile in yours, one you return bashfully. Alerting the other men to Jungkook’s arrival, the group turns to face the pair of you, greeting both of you with smiles and slaps on the back for Jungkook.

The night continues smoothly, many donations of large numbers being made, friendships strengthened and drinks plentiful to match the boisterous mood of the ball. You’ve enjoyed yourself immensely, chatting with the boys and laughing the night away.

It’s when you’re in conversation with Jimin, Namjoon and Hoseok, who are in varying stages of inebriation ranging from tipsy to absolutely hammered, when the night takes a turn. Not particularly for the worst.

You had been oblivious (as you usually were) to Jimin’s advances or smirks, Namjoon’s not-so-subtle winks and Hoseok’s blatant flirting, playing it off as spirited banter between the four of you. So, when Jimin drops a card he was holding that managed to float somewhere behind you, looking up at you with a (too) innocent, surprised look on his face, ‘wondering’ how the card fell in the first place, you laugh and turn around to pick it up for him. Your good intentions were received in a different light, when this gave the opportunity to get a view of your behind as you bent over to pick up the dropped item. Turning around and handing Jimin the card back to Jimin, the boys give you bright smiles, and once again you were blind to the true nature of those smiles.

And Jungkook had the perfect view of what happened from his spot by the bar, mid conversation with the CEO of another company.

And all Jungkook could see now was red.

Not one to leave your side, on the rare occasion he must, he’s always kept an eye on you, not wanting you to be uncomfortable or lonely while his presence is missing, but he trusted the boys to take care of you while he was gone. Trust, he now felt, was slightly skewed.

He’s not stupid. He knows how the boys can be when a woman as stunning as you is with them. He’s seen the smirks and the narrowed eyes when they think he isn’t looking. And he’s ignored it for the most part. They know his heart belongs to you, and vice versa, but this is something that leaves a burning sensation in his stomach, and the selfish part of him wants to drag you away from them and keep you all to himself. He can’t keep you all to himself, he knows this, you are your own person, but for tonight, all he thinks is mine, and decides to bring his plan to fruition.

So Jungkook says a quick goodbye to the CEO who he’s been, truthfully, ignoring for the better half of ten minutes and stalks over to where you stand with the others, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. Namjoon spots Jungkook first, eye’s widening slightly at his stony face.

“Jungkook, you’re back,” he greets, all three straightening up to the best of their abilities. Jungkook heads straight towards you and wraps his arm around your waist possessively, pulling you to his side. He looks down at you, and instantly you know something was bothering him.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” you whisper to him, concern etched across your face but you can’t read his hardened expression, his body taut with tension.

“I’m ready to go home. Get your things, we’re leaving,” he said, and brushed off any questions you asked afterwards, instead fixing his gaze on his three friends, who wilted underneath his cold glare.

Saying your goodbyes, Jungkook walked ahead of you and walked briskly to the car waiting for you outside. You found his behaviour odd, he usually had a hand on or near you. But now, his posture was stiff and unforgiving, and you couldn’t discern what exactly was wrong.

The ride back home was quiet despite your attempts at conversation. Jungkook’s answers were brief and clipped, tone agitated and kept his gaze outside the window, knee bouncing up and down continuously. Eventually you gave up and brought your gaze to your own window, a sick feeling settling deep within your stomach.

Arriving at the gates of his estate, you were eager to go to bed. Hopefully whatever was troubling Jungkook would be forgotten in the morning, and you would wake up to the beautiful man you knew, not whoever he is right now. You’ve seen him angry, you’ve seen him stressed, it happens when someone as young as him has responsibility over one of the richest companies in the world. But right now, Jungkook seems like he’s fuming, absolutely tense with anger, and you don’t know if running your hands through his hair and whispering reassuring words in his ear is going to work this time.

Exiting the car when it pulled up to the front of the house, Jungkook strides towards the door and stops as he reaches it, turning around and waiting for you to enter first. This is something he normally does, but you weren’t expecting this display of chivalry with how irate he seems. You smile gratefully nonetheless, and make your way up the stairs in the foyer to the bedroom you share, impatient to just change and sleep your worries off.

Entering the master bedroom, you slip off your shoes and push them to the side, taking off you’re your jewellery as you went. Facing the vanity in the room and slipping the jewellery into their rightful places, you’re startled when Jungkook closes the door with a bit more force than normal, narrowed eyes positioned on yours reflected in the mirror. He takes off his shoes and shrugs off his suit jacket, gaze never leaving yours as he stops near you. Just staring.

You slowly turn around, meeting his eyes uncertainly. He does nothing, except stare. And stare. And stare. Finally, you speak.

“Are you ok, Jungkook?”

At your question, Jungkook presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

“Who do you belong to?”

The question stuns you, something you did not expect to come out of his mouth. Ever. He knows you’re not property, knows nobody is, so the question leaves you wondering what has gotten into him, and your only answer is a stupefied expression.

Your silence ticks Jungkook off, and he scoffs, a disapproving stare trained on you.

“You really don’t see it, do you? You really can’t see the way other men look at you, wanting to take you away from me. Sweet, really, how pure you are. But it’s not that sweet when you bend over for other men to gawk at your ass.”

Ah, you realise belatedly, he was jealous. Very jealous. And now you know why he was frigid ever since you both came home, why he rushed you home. He was positively seething with jealousy.

You try to justify a crime you didn’t even realise you had committed.

“Wait…what? I-I didn’t know they were staring…Jimin dropped something so I went to pick it up for him…” you trail off, realising he wasn’t going to back down. His eyes, you notice, are impossibly black, and filled to the brim with lust.

“You know I love you, more than I can say. You own every piece of me I can give you. And I hoped that you would be the same,” Jungkook sighs, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves, and yours eyes follow the movement, heat shooting straight to your core. Jungkook was a dominant lover with you, and you lived for it, but this enviousness that you can practically feel radiating off him is new – and it’s exciting. You know jealousy is not healthy, but right now you couldn’t care less, too preoccupied with desire clouding your mind and filling the air in the room. Jungkook continues speaking once both sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing his forearms. “You think I liked watching them stare at you like you were meat? That you weren’t with me?”

Some part of you enjoys the envy he’s displaying – it makes you feel wanted, desired. But with Jungkook, that was already a common trait. It’s just…heightened, right now.

“I-I’m sorry…I really didn’t know…”

He furrows his brows and tuts. “You think I can let you get away with this?”

You can’t speak, tongue heavy in your mouth and excitement pulsing through your body.

“No way, baby girl. I think you need to be punished.”

You watched as he made his way to the edge of the bed, loosening his tie as he went, and gulped. He sat down, zeroed his dark eyes on yours, pointed to his lap, and gave one command.

“Bend over.”

With shaky legs, you walked over towards Jungkook, and stopped once you reached him. Unsure how to proceed, Jungkook grabbed your waist and tugged you so you were bending over his lap, upper half supported by the bed and lower half supported by his legs.

Jungkook’s hand trails up and down your back passing over your rear, before going lower to grab them hem of your dress and lift it up, leaving your ass exposed to him.

“There were three of them. Three who stared at this beautiful ass,” he emphasises his words by giving it a squeeze, a breath escaping you. “So, I think that deserves ten slaps each.”

Your eyes widen at that, not expecting that much. He’s spanked you before, but never that many, and not as fired up as he was right now.

“Can you handle that, baby?” he asks, looking towards you. You meet his eyes over your shoulders, and you know if you say anything other than ‘yes’, he’ll get even more irritated and it won’t be an enjoyable night for either of you. So, you nod your head, not trusting your voice and hope he’ll take it. Jungkook seems to accept it and says, “count them out loud for me.”

Nodding once again, you face forward and brace yourself for the slap to come. And quite the slap it was, sending your head upwards and yelp from your lips. But you know that’s only the beginning.

“One,” you count, voice breathless.

A slap appears again, but you prepared yourself this time, reaction not as exaggerated and count “two.”

Slap. “Three.” Slap. “Four.” Slap. “Five.” And it continues until he reaches ten. He stops for a moment, soothing the marks he created with his hand and giving you a moment to collect yourself. You whine, and bask in the comfort. Your legs feel like jelly, and it’s embarrassing how positively dripping you are at only 10 spanks, something you know he’s aware of, if the cocky smirk plastered on his face is any indication.

“You’re doing so well baby, only twenty more,” he coos, and once again you get ready for the onslaught of stings his hand will bring. “Ready?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out, and it begins again. Slap after slap.

He stops once again when he reaches twenty, soothing your raw red behind with his hands once more, whispering about how well you’re doing in your ear. Your breathing is shallow, hunger settling deep in the pit of your core. The pleasure outweighs the pain, and you can’t wait to get to the main event. Neither can Jungkook, enjoying this far too much, his rock-hard member straining against pants.

“Ten more, kitten, you can take more can’t you? And then I’ll reward you for your good behaviour,” he says, and it sends heat through you. With a revived sense of determination, you nod, and brace for the last ten spanks.

Once it’s all over with you deflate and feel Jungkook bend down to kiss your red cheeks, sending words of praise to you as he does so.

“You’ve been a very good girl for me, baby. And good girls get rewarded. Can you sit up for me?”

He helps you upwards and positions you on the bed, in which you sit up for a second before flopping on your back against the silk sheets, no energy left. Jungkook chuckles and helps you out of your dress and underwear, leaving you completely bare before his eyes. He looks up and down at you approvingly before leaning down kiss you, hard and strong, a kiss that leaves you breathless and full of want.

“Please Jungkook, I need you,” you whisper out when you part, and it sets Jungkook into motion, not wanting to waste any more time. He straightens up and rips off his shirt, moving to unbuckle his belt and pull off his pants. You admire his physique as he does so, eyes roving over the muscles that you never get tired of seeing. Jungkook smirks when he catches you ogling him, and you pull him down for a kiss when he finally rids himself of his pants and underwear. You feel his erection press against your soaking pussy and impatience floods your body.

“Jungkook, please,” you whimper against his mouth, and he grabs his cock, sliding it up and down your folds before easing in until your hips meet, a sigh leaving his lips. Giving a few moments for you to adjust, you rock your hips upwards, signalling you were ready and a groan leaves Jungkook’s lips as he starts to move.

You’re breathing picks up as his pace does, leaving you breathless and incoherent, muttering only his name and moans, your fingers laced in his hair and pulling. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your core tighten as he goes harder, when his voice makes your eyes open again.

“Look at me, baby, look only at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he moans out, angling his hips and hitting a spot inside you that sets your body alight. You obey, and keep your eyes on him, even as his hand snakes down past your breasts to rub your clit in fast circles, pleasure spiking through every crevice of your being before it bursts, shooting waves of pleasure throughout your form, mouth open in a silent moan but your eyes never stray from Jungkook’s as he pumps in and out of you faster to reach his high, following you soon after, head bowed as he moans out words like “beautiful”, “baby”, and “mine”. He collapses on top of you, spent and presses light kisses of love against your neck that makes you smile.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he rests his head on your chest, his arms tight around your waist as you both catch your breath. You break the silence that has surrounded you.

“So, you were jealous?”

Jungkook cringes and burrows his face further into your chest, making you laugh at his sudden shyness.

“Yeah. I can’t help it though. I want to be the only one you need, the only one to make you feel good. I love you too much to let you go,” he admits, and it makes your heart warm with affection.

“Idiot, I’m not leaving you. I won’t ever, I love you. Not anyone else. Just you,” you reply, smiling warmly down at him when he peeks up at you and he grins, leaning in for another passionate kiss, wrapping you up in his arms protectively as you both fall asleep together.

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