#how this ever was allowed happened is insane to me
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Lion’s Den [✓]
↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den.
↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader
↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot (Completed) ✓
↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.
↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, NONCON: unprotected sex, slapping, marking, hair pulling, throat/face fucking, finger fucking, pussy eating, manipulation, forced marriage, physical assault, violence, murder, mention of attempted suicide, graphic depiction of abusive behaviors and relationship.
↳ Total Word Count: 12,380
↳ Taglist: @looneybleus @iveivory @jjk174 @kissyfacekoo @sweetempathprunetree @minchedchilli @jiminismine4ever (If you cannot see the story, please change your settings and allow mature content to be displayed.)
━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”
You slam the envelope in your hand on the counter in front of your ex-boyfriend, nose flaring and eyes narrowed as you look at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Why the hell are you doing this?”
Jeon Jungkook stares at you impassively. “I warned you, didn’t I? Stop with all these playing hard to get nonsense or you’ll face severe consequences. You didn’t listen. Now, you’re going to need to face the consequences.”
You stare at him in utter disbelief, mouth agape as you shake your head. “I’m not playing hard to get, Jungkook. We’re over. Why can’t you get that through your fucking head? Are you insane?!”
Your chest rises heavily as your hands curl into fists. Jungkook’s lips curl into a lopsided smirk as he spreads his arms on the counter, holding onto the edges to lean in towards you. “I’m the one who gets to decide whether we’re over or not, baby. And I’m telling you—we’re far from it. So, what is it going to be? Are you going to continue being stubborn, or should I send these photos of your brother smoking marijuana and drinking to the media?”
You clench your jaw, knuckles turning white the more his words echo in your mind. Then, your shoulders fall as you furrow your eyebrows and adjust the red oval shaped spectacles on the bridge of your nose. “Why are you doing this, Jungkook? This isn’t you.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue before sighing deeply and running his fingers through his long curly dark hair. “Of course this is me, baby. What are you talking about? It’s always been me.”
“You’re sick, Jeon Jungkook,” you say. “This isn’t how you treat someone you claim to love. Jungwon—he loves you and he looks up to you. He sees you as his hyung and you betray him like this? What kind of a sick monster are you?”
“You made me do this,” Jungkook hisses, walking towards you. Instinctively, you walk away from him, but he’s quick to grab your arm tightly and pull you close to him. “If you just stayed, none of these would have ever happened. But you left me, Y/N. You left me when I begged you on my fucking knees to stay. You did this to Jungwon, not me.”
You try to pull away from him but Jungkook’s grip tightens. He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed deeply, those soft doe eyes you loved so much holding nothing but coldness and darkness now. “Let me go. Let me fucking go, Jungkook, or I swear to God—,”
“You’ll what? You’re going to report me to the police? To Hybe? Expose me to the media and online?” Jungkook scoffs, grabbing your face with his free hand to keep your eyes locked with his. “Nobody is going to believe you, Y/N. Who do you think you are compared to me? You’re nothing and you have no one. All you have is me.”
You hate that he is speaking the truth. In front of everybody, Jungkook is a goddamn angel sent from above. He’s the golden maknae. He’s someone who has never changed despite the achievements he received at such a young age. He’s a philanthropist who supports various causes worldwide and donates regularly to different charities.
A salt of the earth kind of guy, humble, polite, kind, respectful, gentleman, a walking green flag—these are his personas for everyone to see. And he’s been playing these roles goddamn well over the past decade of his career.
Even if you report, no one is going to believe you because he’s Jeon Jungkook.
“I hate you,” you tell him. “I hate you with every fiber of my being. I regret ever meeting you. I wish I never met you.”
His upper lip twitches with your words. Then, he smirks. “Well, I guess you’ve made your choice then. You can carry the burden of knowing you’re responsible for the death of your brother’s career, Y/N.”
He lets you and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Your heart races as he types something. Quickly, you hold onto his arms. “No, wait! Please don’t do this, Jungkook. Don’t do this to Jungwon, please.”
“Let go of my arm, Y/N. I’m not going to ask again,” he says through gritted teeth.
You only hold on tighter. “Jungkook, please. I’m—,” you can’t say it. You can’t say it. But he’s giving you no option. You have to. “I’m sorry, please. Jungkook, not Jungwon. Not my brother.”
“Prove it,” he tells you.
You look up at him. “What?”
“Prove to me just how sorry you are, Y/N. Then I might reconsider sending these photos to the authorities.”
You feel your head spinning. Your breathing becomes ragged as the anxiety builds up inside you. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. You repeat these like a mantra as you open your mouth to say something, but no words come out.
Jungkook pushes you off him. “I’m done waiting around.”
He turns his back on you, pressing his phone against his ear as he walks away from you. Your instincts take over and you catch up to him, pulling him by his shoulders and crashing your lips against his. The coldness of his lip ring makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to when Jungkook smirks against the kiss and returns it with much fervor and ferocity. He drops his phone on the floor as he holds your face in his big hands, tilting his head for better access.
There is no going back now. You have crossed the line. You have sealed your fate. You hold onto his shirt as you feel tears burning your eyes. You just want this to be over with.
“Bend over the counter,” he says, pulling away from the kiss as he starts to unbutton his jeans.
“Jungkook—,” you begin to say. Then, you feel a stinging pain on your cheek. Eyes wide in shock, you feel tears forming in your eyes at the realization of what just occurred.
“I didn’t ask. Bend over the fucking counter, bitch,” he hisses.
Covered in fear, you make your way to the island countertop, embracing yourself from the inevitable. Jungkook pushes you against it, ripping your blouse apart; buttons flying everywhere in the kitchen. He only smirks at your terrified state.
He unclasps your bra, groping your breasts with his veiny hands before ordering you to unbutton your pants. Once your pants are pooled around your ankles, Jungkook commands you to turn around and he forcefully pushes you on the cold marble top. Your glasses are positioned awkwardly but you don’t have time to take them off because Jungkook suddenly penetrates you, making you scream in pain.
“Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight for a fucking slut,” Jungkook groans as he thrusts in you in a quick pace, not letting you adjust. He gathers your hair around his hand and pulls your head back as the pain of his sudden penetration soars through your whole body. “I missed fucking this cunt. My cunt.”
All you can do is whimper with each thrust, tears rolling from your eyes. Jungkook pulls you to him, your back pressed against his toned chest and abs. His lips bite down the skin of your neck as he continues to thrust into you. He fondles your breast, squeezing it tight and pinching your nipples.
Once he’s satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he pushes you back down, grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back as he quickened his pace once more. The sound of your groans, his grunts, and your skin slapping against each other fill the kitchen.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook pants and after a few more thrusts, he lets out a long moan as you feel the hot liquid rolling down your inner thigh. He pulls out his cock from your cunt and you lay on your chest against the counter while he pulls his boxers and pants up. Tears pool on the counter top.
Then, Jungkook pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re mine. If you leave me again, I’m going to kill every single one of the people you care about—starting with Jungwon.”
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks, propping his elbow on the bed as he rests his head on his palm, looking at you. His fingers brush the strands of hair on your face then he tilts your head to face him by your chin.
You grip the blanket covering your naked body tightly as you stare at him with half-lidded eyes. You don’t think you have the energy to talk; your throat is sore from Jungkook fucking your mouth without any care in the world and your entire body is sore and exhausted from being fucked and handled by the monster staring at you for hours. You just want to go home. Facing the other side, you pull the blanket more to cover your entire body, curling underneath.
Jungkook, however, slides his arm under your body and the other over your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “You know you deserve this, Y/N. If you had just stayed, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be so harsh. You needed to be punished for leaving me.”
He’s insane—there is no more question about that. He’s a complete psychopath. The fact that he’s trying to justify his actions to you makes your skin crawl.
“I told you when I was courting you that I will show you how devoted I am to you, right? We even made a song about it,” he has the audacity to chuckle as he explains his insanity. “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is, remember?” He rests his chin on your shoulder.
You swallow the lump in your throat and with your hoarse voice, you ask him, “Will you leave Jungwon alone now that you’ve punished me?”
“It depends,” he tells you. “You betrayed me and my trust, Y/N. You’re not off the hook yet.”
You bite your lower lip. “Jungkook, please. I don’t know what else you want me to do. You have me already. Can you please just give me your word that you’ll erase all copies of those photos and leave my brother alone? He doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure to erase everything on one condition,” he declares. “I want you to marry me.”
Your body freezes under his embrace. “W-What?”
“You heard me. Marry me and I’ll leave your brother alone.”
You turn to face him, face contorted in disbelief and utter repulsion. He stares at you in all seriousness. “You’re a monster, Jeon Jungkook.”
He smirks as he places a kiss on your lips. “Why don’t you sleep on it and come morning, you can tell me your answer.”
Wearing a pair of washed jeans you left at his place before the break up and one of his T-shirts, you and Jungkook walk into the Hybe building, hand-in-hand, the next day. If everything was the same way as before, you would have smiled and proudly walked by his side, but now you keep your head as low as possible, conscious about everything especially the hickeys on your neck which you hide with your hair as the old concealer you also left at his place did not provide much help. You try quickening your pace, but Jungkook ensures to take short strides, which you know is to let everyone know that you are back together again.
When you’re finally alone in the elevator, you try to take your hand back. However, Jungkook won’t let go. You sigh in frustration. “I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I have to work here the whole day. So are you. You can let me go now.”
“You still haven’t told me your answer,” he says. “I hope you know by now that I’m not the type to wait around, Y/N.”
“What you’re asking is too much. I can’t just marry you because you want me to,” you point out, clicking your tongue.
The elevator doors open to the fifth floor where your studio is located. You and Jungkook step out and he walks you until you reach the studio. Yang Studio is engraved on the door behind you. Jungkook lets go of your hand (finally) and holds your face with both hands, placing a soft kiss on your lips. For a moment, a split second, it feels as though the man you fell in love with has come back, but when he pulls you away, he whispers against your lips, “I’ll wait until the end of the day for your answer. You know what will happen if you don’t give me any.”
He pushes your glasses further up your nose bridge. You say, dejectedly, “I don’t have any choice. What do you need an answer for when you already know it?”
“Because I wanna hear it from you,” he smiles. “I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m watching you.”
With one final kiss, he walks away while you’re left with a heavy feeling in your chest as you enter your studio. At least, for the time being since yesterday, you are completely alone. You don’t mind, however, and welcome the empty studio with open arms.
Whenever you’re working, time flies by fast. Your focus is only on the songs you’re working on for the various groups at Hybe. Currently, you’re working on one of the B-side tracks for your brother’s group, Enhypen. It wouldn’t be the first time you worked with the relatively new group. You previously worked with them for their songs Fever and Shout Out which gained positive acclaim from their fans and the public as well. Due to this response, their label asked if you could produce another B-side and you agreed right away.
You’re in the middle of mixing Bills, the song you were working on throughout the day, when you suddenly jumped at the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against your cheeks. When you look up, you see the familiar sight of your deranged ex-boyfriend Jungkook looking down at you with his famous bunny smile, holding takeout boxes from the cafeteria and a can of lemon-flavored drink. For a split second, you almost return the smile, like you always did before Jungkook showed his true colors. He just looked like the man you fell in love with. However, you’re quick to catch yourself from falling into the trap once again.
You deduce that the can must be what was pressed on your cheek as Jungkook grabs an empty chair and places it beside you, sitting on it, and placing the boxes and drinks on the table.
“Your time’s up like fifteen minutes ago, but since I’ve had a good day, I’ll extend it until we finish eating,” Jungkook tells you as he opens one of the boxes and the smell of tangsuyuk fills your nostrils, making your stomach grumble in anticipation.
You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. You take your glasses off as you rub your eyes while Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat.
“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal.
You chew and swallow your food before answering him, feeling the need to put your glasses so you do so. It’s a comfort thing, you suppose. “Song for Enha.”
“Yeah? What is it called?”
“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”
“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle.
“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego.
A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.”
“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback.
Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude.
“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”
“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses.
“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade.
“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.”
“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade.
“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.”
“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you.
“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”
“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.”
“You don’t own the people you love,” you say, sighing in resignation. “And you don’t threaten them and their loved ones with death and career ruining photos.”
Jungkook spins your chair and pulls you close to him. He traps your thighs in between his as he cups your face with his strong veiny hands. “Baby, I’m the only loved one in your life that you should care about. Your brother—he’s old enough to fend for himself. You don’t need him anymore.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you ask, nose flaring. “He’s my family, Jungkook. He will always be my family.”
“But he doesn’t need you anymore, Y/N. When was the last time you even talked to him? When was the last time he talked to you? All this time, you’re asking me to erase all photos of him drinking while underage in Vegas and smoking weed on top of that, but have you stopped to ask yourself: Why did Jungwon do it? Do you even really know your brother?” Jungkook caresses your cheek.
You’re speechless. You haven’t thought about that. He smiles, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like the tangsuyuk he also ordered for himself. “Why don’t you ask him why he did what he did?”
“Jungwon would never do something illegal. For all I know, you fucking manipulated him in doing that shit to get back at me!” you slap his hands away from your face and you rise from your seat, pointing your finger at him. “I swear to God if I find out you manipulated him in doing it, I will—,”
“I thought it was already established that nobody will believe you anyway. The police? I give a shit ton of money to that shitty force everyday. Hybe? Baby, I’m one of the reasons this company even exists. Media? Fans? The public? Who’s going to believe you over someone they’ve watched grow up right before their eyes? Who’s going to believe you over their golden maknae?”
You clench your fists. “You’re not as powerful as you think. Get over your fucking self.”
He smacks his lips. “We’ll see about that. Good night, my love.”
Then, he simply leaves, with only the half-eaten tangsuyuk and unopened can of soft drink as remnants that Jeon Jungkook was even here.
It’s been a while since the last time you saw Jungwon. His is longer and back to black which you thought suited him the best. He’s gotten taller too and the way he carries himself now is different than he used to before. Or maybe, he’s just forever the shy baby brother in your mind. You asked him to meet you at your apartment, telling him that you informed their manager beforehand but to let the two of you talk privately.
His manager dropped him off at your place, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, a navy blue hoodie, and white sneakers that he left by your doorway.
“Why do you wanna meet at the crack of dawn, noona?” Jungwon asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
You go straight to the point. “You went drinking and smoked marijuana in Vegas.”
He tenses, pressing his lips, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. Then, he clicks his tongue and sighs deeply. “I really didn’t want you to find out, but I’m guessing Jungkook hyung told you.”
“Why didn’t you want me to find out?” you ask, pushing your glasses further up your nose bridge.
“Why do you think, noona? You’re going to overreact, of course. It was just one time and it’s not like I’m the only one who does shit like that. Everyone does it too. Besides, Jungkook hyung already took care of it and Hybe too.” There is irritation in his voice and he doesn’t bother to hide it.
This makes you angry. “Overreact? I’m entitled to overreact about this, Jungwon. Do you realize the weight of your actions? You are not allowed to drink in the States until you’re 21 and you’re certainly not allowed to smoke fucking marijuana because you’re Korean! The law still applies to you even when you’re abroad. It’s a crime for you to even be holding it, Jungwon. What the hell? Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean you have to do it too!”
“See, this is what I’m talking about. You know what, I’m not going to do this right now, noona. I have a busy schedule later and I’m—,”
“No,” you snap. “You’re staying here and we are going to talk about this. You have to understand the weight of your actions, Jungwon. What you did can land you in jail. What you did can ruin your career and you will never be able to recover from it. All the hard work and sacrifices you made to be where you are now—all of that will go to waste because of this. This is serious. Why the hell did you do it?”
Jungwon scoffs in disbelief, tilting his head to the side. “You know, you’ve done a pretty good job ignoring what I do in my personal life for the past couple of years, noona. Why the hell are you suddenly interested? Tell me, you’re not really worried about me, right? You’re about you and your fucking career.”
“That’s not true. Jungwon, I’ve not been ignoring you. Are you fucking serious right now? I worked my ass off for years for you! Because we only got each other in this goddamn world! Because someone has to step up and raise you otherwise you’ll just rot in foster care. Someone has to be the grown up!”
“Yeah? In your eyes, maybe. But have you stopped to look at it from my perspective? You made me feel like I was just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister,” Jungwon clenches his jaw. “All those times you scolded me for not attending practices and taekwondo because I rather play with my friends, all those times you harshly critiqued me on my singing even when I know I did a good job but you didn’t want the others to see you favoring me, because you never thought I was enough, all those fucking times I came to you to tell you how hard it was being on that survival show, on being a trainee because you’re my sister and when you started dating Jungkook hyung—what did you do, noona?”
You feel your throat tightening and your eyes burning with tears. All the memories of those times he listed running through your mind. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jungwon laughs emptily.
“You were supposed to tell me it’s fine I skip practices and taekwondo and play with my friends instead because it was so suffocating being in the practice studio all the time, you were supposed to tell me I did good when I did good and not hold back because you’re afraid of other people’s opinions of you, you were supposed to comfort me and tell me you might not understand what I’m going through but you believed in me because I’m your brother when I was on I-Land, and you were supposed to tell me first before anyone else that you’re dating my senior and not let me find out on the news. You were supposed to be my sister. Not my mother, not my producer. My sister.”
Both of you are crying, but Jungwon wipes his tears harshly with the sleeves of his hoodie. “You haven’t treated me like a brother for years. You don’t get to just decide on being a sister to me again because of this. You wanna know why I did it? It’s because I just wanna feel good even for one fucking second. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. I never—I never asked for any of this. I only became a trainee, became an idol because I thought, maybe, when I finally become one, you’ll finally notice me again. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N.”
Your heart shatters. You place your hands on your chest, a fresh set of hot tears streaming down your face. “Jungwon, I-I’ve always been proud of you. Always.”
He shakes his head. “No, you haven’t.”
“I have,” you say, stepping closer to him but he backs away. “Jungwon, you’re my brother. I love you and I’m sorry I’ve not been the sister you needed. I don’t—,” you suck in a sharp shaky breath. “How can I make it up to you?”
“I don’t know,” he breathes out. “But just—just leave me alone.”
“Jungwon,” you call out but your brother’s already gone.
You find yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s front door. The security at his high-rise, gated condominium community easily let you in, knowing you were the idol at the penthouse’s girlfriend and because Jungkook had already informed them to let you pass through whenever you visited. It’s 4:18 am on your phone, a little over an hour since your conversation with Jungwon. While you were crying on the floor of your apartment, you suddenly remembered the deadline—Jungkook’s deadline—and you got up immediately to go to his house.
On the taxi ride to Jungkook’s, your mind replayed Jungwon’s words over and over again.
You made me feel like I’m just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister. I never wanted any of this. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N.
The heaviness you’re carrying in your chest is indescribable. The guilt of knowing you’re the reason he did those things and not because Jungkook or anyone else forced or manipulated him to—it’s intense. It’s you who caused this mess. It’s you who neglected your brother in the pursuit of making sure you stay together.
That’s what you promised your grandmother before she passed away when you were fourteen, three years after your own parents died in a car accident on the way to celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary. You promised her that you wouldn’t let anyone separate the two of you so at just the young age of fourteen, you were forced to leave all childhood pursuits behind and grow up. Whenever you weren’t at school, you were working part-time jobs to sustain yours and Jungwon’s needs. You stayed with a distant aunt, but you were determined to be his legal guardian the moment you turned 18.
So, when the opportunity for you to become a producer at BigHit at fifteen, you took it—packing everything in your hometown and moving to Seoul, temporarily leaving him. Then, at the age of thirteen, Jungwon moved to Seoul with you as a trainee. Looking back, you didn’t even stop to ask him if that was what he really wanted or if he even wanted to live in Seoul. You just took his word as it was and didn’t even question it.
You ruined your brother’s life; you just hope there is still time for you to fix it. To make amends. To be his sister again.
The familiar sound of his door unlocking rings in the silent hallway. Jungkook is the only one on this floor, given he lives at the very top of the building at the penthouse. You push the white door open, greeted by a corridor and an array of shoes and slippers on the shoe rack on the side. You take off your sneakers, place them neatly beside the rack and make your way down to the corridor to find Jungkook, his bare back facing you as he drinks something from his fridge. Black Calvin Klein boxers modestly cover his bottoms.
“I know I’m late, but I’ll do it, Jungkook,” you say. “I’ll marry you.”
“Like you said, you’re late. I already sent the photos to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department anonymously, of course,” Jungkook replies, turning to face you. He looks at you with disinterest in his eyes. “So you can leave now. You’ve made your choice and now you have to live with the consequences of it.”
Your heart sinks in your stomach. “Are you—Are you serious? Did you really send the pictures to the police?”
“You think I was bluffing the entire time?” Jungkook laughs. “You underestimate me, Y/N.”
This can’t be happening. You walk towards him over the counter. “Jungkook, please, don’t. He’s just a kid. Prison won’t do him any good and fuck—the public. Please. He’s already going through enough as it is. Please don’t let him go through this.”
“He’s twenty, Y/N. He knows what he’s doing,” Jungkook deadpans. “Leave. I’m sure you would want to be there once the police arrest Jungwon.”
“Jungkook, please,” you hold his arm, pleading. “I’m sorry, okay? For breaking up with you, for leaving you, for not appreciating your love and devotion to me. I’m sorry for everything. Please—punish me instead, hm? Leave my brother alone. Please.”
You don’t even know when you got on your knees while holding onto Jungkook’s arm and sobbing, head hanging low. “Please, Kook…”
Jungkook turns to face you, causing your arms to fall on your side. He lifts your head by your chin with his index and middle fingers and you stare at him through your oval shaped spectacles. He wipes your tears with his thumbs then grazes one over your lips, making you taste the salty liquid.
“You’re so pretty when you’re on your knees, begging, and crying, baby…” Jungkook trails, putting more pressure on your lips. “Things didn’t have to go this far if you just did everything I say, right?”
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes, you’re right.”
His lips twitch, but he stops himself from breaking into a smile. “Why do you have to be so stubborn, Y/N? It’s not a good trait to have when you become my wife.”
My wife. Those two words send shivers down your spine. “I-I won’t be s-stubborn anymore. Please don’t let them arrest Jungwon. He’s so young and he’s still got so much to live for.”
Jungkook hums. “Yeah? So, you’ll do everything I say from now on?”
You resign to your fate. “I will.”
“Then put this mouth to good use and suck my cock, you fucking slut.”
The switch is on. You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you grab the waistband of his boxers. He’s already hard and leaking with precum. Did he get turned on by you begging and crying on your knees? The thought repulses you, but you shake it away. This is your fate now.
His cock springs free from his boxers, and you wrap your hand around the base, before licking your lips, and wrapping it around his tip—slowly licking his precum while you jerk him off. You try to focus your mind elsewhere to make Jungkook feel that you want this. So, you settle on the times you actually wanted to suck his dick and make him feel good.
Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at you moving your pace in a quicker manner, swirling around your tongue on his tip, and length. He finds the sight of you sucking his cock while wearing those glasses incredibly hot.
Once you’ve adjusted your mouth to his side, you begin to deepthroat him, making Jungkook hiss in pleasure and tighten his grip around your hair, tugging on it as you go deeper every time.
“Look at me,” he orders. You look up at him while you continue to suck him. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck your throat, okay?”
You nod and he smirks as he thrusts in your mouth once. You make another gag noise. Jungkook begins to relentlessly pound your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure. You hold onto his muscular thighs, breathing through your nose as you close your eyes momentarily but Jungkook catches this and taps your cheek.
“Told you to keep your eyes on me, right? It’s like you’re asking to be fucked hard every damn time,” he says through gritted teeth.
So, his pace becomes faster. About a few more thrusts, Jungkook announces that he’s gonna cum but while you expected to swallow his cum like last time—Jungkook pulls away, jerks his cock with one hand while the other remains on your hair. He pulls your head back as his cum squirts all over your face.
The white liquid is all over your glasses and Jungkook wipes some on your lips using the tip of his cock.
“Just pretty,” he says as you hear a camera snap. “I think I’ll make this my new lockscreen.”
You feel humiliated and disgusted as he lets go of your hair and types something on his phone. You get up on your feet, take your glasses off and stare at it covered in Jungkook’s cum. You lick your lips and taste the salty substance. Jungkook then places his phone on the counter and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulders.
“I’m happy you’re finally back to your senses. I can’t wait to marry you, love.”
“Can I tell my brother first before announcing it to the public?” you ask, lowering your head as you fight the urge to cry. “I just don’t want him to find out on the news.”
“How are you going to do that? Jungwon doesn’t want anything to do with you. That’s why he left your apartment, right?” You stiffen at his remark. Jungkook chuckles. “Baby, did you really think I would keep my eyes off you even when you’re not with me? I love you. I love you so fucking much that the thought of you not anywhere near me makes me go crazy. So, I had to do it—I had to put cameras around your apartment to see you, to protect you, to know if you’re bringing some bastard home and then kill him before he can even scream for help. That’s how much I love you, Y/N. Who else is going to love you like I do?”
“Y/N noona! What are you doing here?” Sunoo, one of Jungwon’s members and friends, greets you with his infectious smile as he opens the door to their dormitory. “Come inside, please.”
“Thanks Sunoo,” you tell him with a smile as you take his offer and enter. Leaving your shoes at the doorway, you ask Sunoo, “Is Jungwon around? I was hoping I could talk to him.”
“Yes. He’s in our room. Would you like something to eat or drink, noona? Jay hyung is cooking something in the kitchen,” the dark-haired boy offers.
You reach their living room and sure enough, you smell something sweet in their air. “It’s okay, Sunoo. I don’t think I’ll stay long anyway. Is it through here?”
Sunoo nods. “Yes. Second door to the right.”
“Thank you,” you tell him before making your way down the short corridor and knocking on the second door to the right.
“Come in!” you hear Jungwon exclaim on the other side. You take a deep breath before opening the door and seeing him lying on one of the bunk beds, scrolling through his phone. “Is the food ready, hyu—Noona? What are you doing here?”
You give him a small smile, shutting the door behind you and remaining on the spot beside it, hands behind your back. “Is it okay if I talk to you? I have something I want to say.”
He sits on his bed, placing his phone beside him. “I don’t really want to talk, but since you’re here, what choice do I have?” His tone is harsh and irritated which you expected.
“I’ll make it quick then. I wanted to let you know before you see it on the news anywhere that Jungkook and I—we’re getting married. We’re engaged.”
His eyebrow furrowed deeply. “What? I thought you two aren’t together anymore.”
You inhale deeply, lips pressed tightly. “We got back together and now we’re engaged.”
“Why?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Why not?” you quip, hoping to lighten the tension brewing between the two of you.
“I don’t know, noona, maybe because it’s marriage. It’s serious. Have you thought about this? Like really thought about this?”
“Yes, Jungwon. I have,” you say, hoping your tone is convincing enough—for your brother or for yourself is still up for debate. “It’s what I came here to tell you.”
Jungwon sighs deeply, shaking his head. “What the fuck.” You don’t blame him for his reaction. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair then lifts his head to look at you. “When is the wedding then?”
You press your back against the cold wall behind you. “Not sure yet but it’s going to be within this year, for sure.”
He nods. “This doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you break up with someone, get back together with them, and then marry them?” He lets out a small laugh.
Your heart clenches and your eyes soften. “Jungwon,” you call out softly. “I’m sorry for everything. For not being a sister to you all these years. I just—I thought I was doing the right thing, but I never stopped to consider your true feelings about everything.”
He breathes in sharply, rising from his bed. “We’re not doing this here, noona.”
Your eyes shake as you bite your lower lip. “Please Jungwon? Please let me make it up to you.”
“How? By marrying my senior? Did you even stop to think about how this will affect not only me but the other members as well? It’s bad enough that you dated him, noona. We’re still suffering from hate because of your relationship. Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? How can you be so selfish all the fucking time, noona?”
Selfish. One word that stabs you over and over again the more it echoes in your mind.
“Leave. Now. I don’t want to speak to you ever again. I will be as professional as I can, but that’s all we’re ever going to be. Professionals. You’re not my sister anymore. We’re not family anymore. We’ve never been one in years anyway. From now on, just stay away from me unless it’s for work. I—,” Jungwon stops and then shakes his head one more time. “Just go, Y/N.”
BTS Jungkook and Yang Y/N are engaged
In an Instagram post uploaded by BTS member Jungkook, 26, he announced that he is engaged to his long-time girlfriend, producer Yang Y/N, 26.
“I fell in love with you the moment I met you and now, I can’t wait to fall in love with you more as my future wife and mother to our children,” The youngest BTS member said in the caption of his Instagram post featuring several photos of Yang and him throughout their years as a couple. “I am excited to begin this new chapter with you and to explore all remaining chapters until the end where we’re wrinkly and old, surrounded by the family we’ve made through the years.”
Jungkook also shares a message to his fans, ARMYs. “To ARMYs, I know this might come as a shock to you as I am the youngest in Bangtan, but for those who have been with me from the start, I’m sure you know that I’ve always been someone who wears my heart on my sleeve. I hope to have your love and support on this new journey in my life as you have always given me through the years.”
The ‘Seven’ singer ended his caption by thanking his fans, his members, and Yang Y/N. “Once again, thank you ARMYs, thank you to my hyungs, and thank you to Yang Y/N for accepting me as her partner for life.”
Jungkook and Yang Y/N have been together for four years before getting engaged. Yang serves as one of BTS’ producers, producing some of their songs including ‘Hold Me Tight’, ‘Fire’, ‘Ma City’, ‘Spring Day’, and their latest comeback ‘Run BTS’, among others. She has also worked on Jungkook’s solo album particularly on songs ‘Yes or No’ and ‘Seven.’
You don’t think you’ve seen this many people gathered in a hall. You’ve lost count on how many times you bowed and shook hands with the guests Jungkook invited to your engagement party and your face hurts from the fake smiles you’ve put on for everyone. From his family to his industry friends, to the executives of Hybe and those of his and Bangtan’s endorsements to all artists at the company, including your brother who is seated beside you, and staff of Hybe—it seems like everyone is here tonight.
Jungkook hasn’t let you out of his sight since the night began, always having his arm around your waist, tattooed hand placed conservatively on your hip or on your thigh when the two of you are sitting down. He’d constantly caress your thigh and place soft kisses on your cheek, behind your ear, on your shoulder, and even on your neck for everyone to see. He plays the doting fiance very well; the maniacal shadow is completely hidden tonight.
You don’t know how he managed to put this party together, but you’re not surprised either. What Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. His persistence is unmatched, as you regretfully realized later rather than sooner.
It’s when Jungkook is suddenly whisked away by the CEO of Calvin Klein that you take the opportunity to excuse yourself, saying you need to use the restroom. Despite the warning state in your fiance’s eyes, you give him a small tight-lipped smile before making your way out of the hall and towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop of Hybe’s building—a sanctuary you go to whenever you feel the world on your shoulders. You grip on the railings tightly, hair blowing backwards by the chilly October air, creating goosebumps all over your body. You could hear your own heartbeat and feel the tightness of your chest as you take deep breaths to prevent yourself from spiraling into a panic attack. You don’t even remember the last time you experienced one, but when you’re finally alone—everything sinks in.
You’re getting married to Jeon Jungkook. Your own brother despises you. You’re completely on your own. The moment you walk down the aisle, you’re forever trapped in the insanity that is Jeon Jungkook. Suddenly, all the worst case scenarios plague your mind and your heartbeat races quickly more than ever before.
You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved.
You should have known that his persistence and devotion in courting you after you rejected him for a multitude of reasons are not acts of love, but obsession. That his efforts from courting you—giving you your favorite flowers every single day, his good morning and good night texts, and planning your dates—were just acts of love bombing to exploit your already growing feelings for him.
And when you finally said yes and he announces your relationship to the public, despite your repeated protests that it was too soon—it wasn’t to show his fans, the public, the industry, and the entire world that he was proud to be in a relationship with you or to set a precedent in normalizing dating in the industry; it was to show them that you were his and his alone.
By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den and there is no way out.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” At the sound of the familiar husky voice of Kim Woosung, you turn around, eyes wide, one hand tightly gripping the railing while the other placed over your right chest. His sharp features soften at the sight of your panicked state and he cautiously makes his way towards you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Your entire body feels rigid. You want to cry, to scream, to run as fast as you can away from all of these—but you remain on your spot, mute. Woosung presses his lips as he now stands mere inches away from you. The smell of his favorite cologne fills your nostrils.
“You don’t have to say anything, but if you need a hug, if you need a friend, I’m right here, Y/N. I’m always going to be right here,” he tells you softly, meeting your wide gaze.
You want to reach out to him, to accept his offer of a hug, but you don’t want to take your chances. You don’t know how long you’ve been gone, but knowing Jungkook—even a minute is long enough. It’s only a matter of time before he goes out and find you. You cannot take the risk of him seeing you with another man, especially Woosung, someone he’s already voiced out he’s jealous of.
With that thought, you come back to your senses. You exhale deeply, licking your lower lips as you shake your head. “I-I’m fine, Woosung.”
“Okay,” he replies, nodding slowly. “I just saw you dashing out of the hall, looking frantic, and I got worried so I followed you out.”
“Yeah, I guess, um, I guess I just feel overwhelmed by all the people in there,” you say.
“I can see that. I didn’t even know you can fit that many people inside the hall,” Woosung chuckles, placing his hands on the cold railing. For a while, the two of you just stand in silence, letting the breeze and the bustling city below you fill in. Then, Woosung breaks it with a heartbreaking tone saying, “Don’t marry him, Y/N. Please don’t.”
You’d be a fool not to admit that since you met Woosung three years ago through Yoongi, you’d been oblivious to his affections for you. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, but he was also respectful of your relationship with Jungkook that he didn’t try to impose himself on you. Then, when you broke up with Jungkook, he took the chance to finally confess his feelings for you.
Woosung is the complete opposite of Jungkook. He’s gentle, he’s kind, he respects you and your boundaries, he makes you laugh, he makes you feel secure, and his affection towards you doesn’t feel suffocating. A walking green flag, as they call it these days, and in another life where you have the freedom to choose who to love—you’ll love him. But alas, this is your life now.
“Woosung, please don’t,” you breathe out, hanging your head low as you shake it. “I’m going to marry Jungkook.”
“You don’t love him, Y/N. I know you. I see you. You don’t love him because why would you be here if you do?” Woosung points out, his tone remaining level. He’s not one to raise his voice; he’s always calm and composed. Another thing that makes him different from Jungkook.
“Woosung, let’s go back. Let’s not talk about this anymore,” you say as you turn around and make your way to the door.
“Marry me instead,” he declares behind you. You stop on your tracks, breath hitches. “If it’s marriage you want, marry me instead, Y/N.”
You look at him over your shoulder. He’s standing in the same spot, but facing you with the moonlight and fluorescent lights shining on his honest and genuine face. You take him all in with your eyes—dressed in a pair of black pants, shoes, satin dress shirt, and a black coat over it. His hair’s longer now, but still black and messy. A silver necklace adorns his neck and through his unbuttoned top, the tip of his cross tattoo on his chest is peeking.
You shake your head.
He takes a deep breath as he slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he shuts his eyes. Then, he nods as he traces the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright. I understand. But Y/N, can you just—can you look me in the eye and tell me marrying him, being with him is what you really want? Can you do that for me and I swear, I’ll let go of all my feelings for you by the time the sun rises tomorrow. But if there’s even a slight doubt, please be with me instead.”
“I don’t deserve you, Woosung. I’m sorry. I can’t,” you tell him.
“What are we doing here?” you ask Jungkook two weeks later. It’s late at night, past midnight, and you’re being led to the back of Ignorantia, a club at Gangnam which you know Jungkook is an investor of, followed by several of his bodyguards. He’s dressed in a black dress shirt with yellow floral prints on it, black jeans, and his signature black boots.
“I told you, I wanna show you something, baby,” Jungkook replies, looking over his shoulder to flash you a smile.
Eyebrows scrunched, you decide not to say anything more until you reach the end of the corridor and one of Jungkook’s bodyguards opens the door. “After you, mi lady,” your fiance chuckles, feigning chivalry by lowering himself as he extends his arm out toward the room.
The moment you enter the room, your entire body is coated with unprecedented fear. Tied to a metal chair, bloody and bruised, is none other than Kim Woosung. The door behind you slams shut, making you jump, and with frantic eyes, you turn to Jungkook. “What is going on here?” you ask.
At the sound of your voice, from the corner of your eyes, you see Woosung lift his head—albeit painfully. You don’t wait for Jungkook’s answer and rush to Woosung’s side, kneeling in front of him as tears pool your eyes at the sight of his beaten up self. But Woosung being Woosung, he plasters a small smile on his bloody lips. One of his eyes is already swollen shut, but you know he’s looking at you.
“I’m sorry, Woosung…” It’s all you can say, shaking your head as you stand on your feet, wiping your tears with the back of your hands. “Stop this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s expression remains cold and stoic. He’s standing a few feet across from you and Woosung, hands deep in his pockets. “He brought it upon himself the moment he asked you to marry him instead and you considered.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m marrying you! For fuck’s sake, Jungkook, this has gone way too far. Stop this insanity already. You’re hurting innocent people!”
“Trying to take another person’s belonging doesn’t make you innocent,” Jungkook hisses, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. His bodyguard hands him something metal and you watch as he slips on the brass knuckles in both his hands. “I know none of us here are Catholics, but since he’s got that cross tattooed on his chest, maybe Woosung knows to some degree that one of the Ten Commandments is thou shalt not steal, am I right, Woosung?”
Jungkook begins to walk towards the weak Woosung and you step in front of him, breathing heavily. “Jungkook, don’t do this. He’s done nothing wrong. Fuck, please, just let him go. You already have me. What more do you want?”
“I want this fucker to know that you’re mine and I want you to fucking carve it in your head that you’re mine!” he bellows. “Now step away. This is the last time I’m asking nicely.”
When you refuse, Jungkook pushes you aside, making you land on the floor. This triggers Woosung to muster whatever strength he had left to let out an animalistic growl before prancing at Jungkook only for the latter’s brass knuckles hit his face. You scream for Jungkook to stop, but his bodyguard traps you with his strong arms, and you’re forced to watch as Jungkook mercilessly lands punch after punch at Woosung’s face and body.
“Fuck!” Jungkook yells as he lands one final punch at Woosung’s face which you don’t even recognize anymore before stepping away from him, panting. He faces you—Woosung’s blood covering his face and with a maniacal smile plastered on his lips. He drops the brass knuckles on the floor then he gives a signal to his bodyguard to let you go.
Once you’re out of the bodyguard’s grip, you lunge at Jungkook and repeatedly hit him while sobbing, screaming all profanities that you can think of. He doesn’t stop you and let you hit him wherever you want. Then, the exhaustion takes over and you fall on your knees before him.
“I’m done playing nice. I guess being nice doesn’t really get you the respect you deserve. How naive of me,” Jungkook says after a while. He lowers himself to meet your eyes. He grabs your face and forces his lips on you. You push him away, slapping him as you taste Woosung’s blood on your lips. A lopsided smirk appears on his lips. “Jo, can you bring our other friend inside? I think it’s time for Y/N’s punishment.”
“Yes, Mr. Jeon.”
Moments later, you perk up at the sound of a very familiar voice echoing in the room. You stand, heart sinking in your stomach as you see Jungwon with his hands tied behind his back and duct tape around his mouth. A gun is pressed against his temple. His eyes are wide and terrified, and once they meet yours, a muffled sound comes out of his taped mouth. You believe he said ‘Noona!’ Jungwon struggles against Jo’s grip and Jungkook traps you in his.
His hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers, “Time to choose, Y/N. Which one would you rather save? Jungwon, the brother who has already disowned you? Or Woosung, the man who loves you? You can’t have both—that’s just the rule of the world, my love.”
“Why are you doing this?” you sob, shaking your head.
“Because you need to learn who is in control,” he tells you. “Because you need to learn what happens when you so much as think of another man other than me. Because I want to be the only one you think about. And frankly, because it’s fun. Seeing you cry, begging for mercy—it makes me so hard, don’t you feel it?”
You, unfortunately, do feel his erection. It makes your stomach churn. “Then please stop this, Jungkook. Don’t make me choose. Let them go and I will be the perfect wife to you. I will do everything—quit my job, move wherever with you, do everything you want me to do. I’ll live the rest of my life being devoted to you and you alone.”
He hums in your ear, pressing his clothed hard cock more in your ass. “That sounds lovely. But you still need to choose otherwise both of them will die tonight.”
“No, no, no, please. Please don’t make me do this,” you beg.
Jungkook begins counting down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
“Stop! Please! Don’t!” you thrash in his grip as he continues counting.
“Six, five, four, three…”
You break. “Two—,”
“Jungwon! I choose Jungwon,” you exclaim, limping against Jungkook’s chest.
“Good girl,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. “Come here, baby. Time for you to act out your choice.”
Jungkook turns you to Woosung’s beaten body on the floor. He’s still breathing, seeing his chest rising. You don’t know if he heard you choose Jungwon over him and the thought is too much to bear. No matter how goodness he has in his heart, would he be able to forgive you for your decision? Jungkook places a gun in your hand; the coldness of it makes you jump. He chuckles, wrapping his hand around yours on the handle before he guides you to point it at Woosung.
Behind, Jungwon is screaming.
“You just need to pull the trigger, baby, and everything will go back to the way it was. Remember, if you don’t do this now, it’s Jungwon’s funeral.”
“Y/N…” Woosung manages to croak out as he coughs out blood.
“Sung…” you call out, sobbing once more. “S-Sorry… Sung…”
“I l-love y—,”
Bang! You scream at the loud sound that echoes through the room and Woosung is no more.
Growing up, you never really pictured or imagined how your wedding would look like. You didn’t even think about getting married in the first place, having been exposed early on to the harsh realities of life, and forced to enter the workforce when you were only fifteen to make ends meet. Your life revolved around work, Jungwon, more work, and more Jungwon. Now, as you stare at yourself wearing a custom made traditional Vera Wang white satin tube wedding gown with a long veil trailing behind you, and holding a bouquet of baby’s breath and white roses, you’re overwhelmed with the implications of what is about to come.
Today, you’re marrying Jungkook in front of hundreds of people inside a huge garden and more people watching in the comfort of their own home because Jungkook allowed for the ceremony to be broadcasted nationwide and internationally as witnesses to your holy matrimony. In a few minutes, you’ll be walking down the aisle with your brother by your side and your fate will be ultimately sealed in front of the thousands of people watching the ceremony. Suddenly, the rest of your life flashes before your eyes.
A life of loneliness, isolation, servitude to Jungkook and all his needs. You’ll no longer be Yang Y/N, the music producer. You’ll now be Yang Y/N, Jeon Jungkook’s wife. A decade of hard work and sacrifices down the drain—all because you let yourself naively walk a lion’s den. Not only that, you also got an innocent’s blood on your hands.
Five months had passed since that night and yet the memories are still as vivid as if it’s only yesterday that you pulled the trigger that ended Woosung’s life. Woosung, the man who loved you unconditionally. Woosung, the man who loved you until his dying breath. You can still hear his voice in your head at times, still get flashes of the image of his face—both the ones where he was smiling and alive and the one where he was beaten to a pulp and ultimately killed with a gunshot.
No one besides you, Jungwon, Jungkook’s bodyguards, and Jungkook himself know the real reason why Kim Woosung is dead. Jungkook’s connection ran deep with the police that until now, his death was still unsolved, a speck of dust in the myriad of cold cases in the district of Seoul. He had forced you and Jungwon to attend the funeral and it fucked you and your brother up, watching as his parents, especially his mother, broke down at the fate her son suffered.
It didn’t help that his mother went to you and told you Woosung had spoken so highly of you every time, both as a friend, a colleague, and a person. You threw up afterwards. Jungwon, on the other hand, was traumatized. He formed night terrors, having to go in an indefinite hiatus from his group activities and be checked into a psychiatric facility for attempting suicide.
It’s only now, on your wedding day, that he’s been given permission from his psychiatrist to be let out. His nurse keeps an eye out on him the entire time along with a security guard in case he tries to kill himself or escape. You know they’re appointed by Jungkook, but fortunately, they are far enough for you and your brother to have some privacy.
“You don’t have to do this, noona,” Jungwon whispers as he stands beside you. He’s dressed in a black suit, hair neatly styled, showing off his handsome features. He significantly lost weight; you can easily tell by his hollow cheeks. “You can run. We can run. We can go abroad and tell the truth to the public.”
“I’m afraid this is the only way, Won,” you say, hanging your head low. “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. There’s no place in the world that we can go and hide. He’ll find us eventually and we’ll be doomed.”
“But you can’t stay with him too,” Jungwon is desperate, terrified now. “Noona, he—he killed Woosung hyung.” His tone is barely above whisper when he says those words.
“I know,” you reply. Then, you lift your head and smile at him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine. I’m going to be alright. Just focus on you, okay?”
He suddenly hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he always did when he was little. You hug him back just as tight, squeezing your eyes tight. You don’t want to think that this may be the last time you’ll get to be this close to Jungwon, but your gut says otherwise. So, you take all of him in and hope that he feels all your love, all your apologies, all your care at that moment.
“I love you, noona. I’m sorry for being a bad brother.”
You shake your head. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry for not being the sister you needed.”
“No, noona—,”
“No, Jungwon, I recognize it now. Everything you said that night—how I scolded you for not practicing with the other trainees and attending your taekwondo lessons, for never saying you did well even when you did because I didn’t want the others to see me as being biased, for not telling you Jungkook and I were dating, for being everything but a sister to you, I’m sorry. I failed you, Won, I’m sorry.”
“Noona, please, I don’t want you to die,” he cries. “He’ll kill you, I just know it. He’s done it before.”
“Shh, I won’t let him. I’ll stay alive, so please promise me that you will, too, okay Won?” You hold his face in your hands and he nods. “We’ll get out. Someday. I’ll get us out.”
“Ms. Yang, we’re ready for you.”
You nod at the assistant of the wedding planner. Then, you and Jungwon follow her out of the hotel room you’re staying at, then ride the elevator down to the VIP parking where the white Mercedes-Benz bridal car is waiting for you. Immediately after stepping inside, the driver drives toward the wedding venue. All the time, Jungwon holds your hand. There are no more words spoken between the two of you, aware of the prying eyes and ears. The drive isn’t that long and soon, you find yourself at the entrance of the grand garden—where fans and media gather behind the barricades. Upon seeing the bridal car, they erupt into a frenzy.
You meet your brother’s eyes and squeeze his hand. Trust me, you want to say, and hope your eyes are expressive enough to let him know. He nods and he steps outside the vehicle. He helps you out afterwards, and all you hear are the screams and the resounding echo of the media’s frenzied camera shots.
The assistant leads you and Jungwon up the stairs. Then, she instructs you both to smile, bow, and wave at the fans and media outside before continuing your way upstairs. There’s a courtyard that you pass through before you reach the door where everyone is waiting for you.
“We have arrived. Stand by in two minutes while we retouch the makeup of the bride and her brother,” the assistant speaks through her microphone. Once the makeup artists are finished retouching yours and Jungwon’s make up, she gives the signal that you’re ready, and you hear the familiar melodies of the traditional wedding march. “Ms. Yang, Mr. Yang, you may enter.”
You tighten your grip around Jungwon’s arm and he holds your hand as the doors open, revealing the vast sea of people on either side of the aisle. With each step, you see familiar and unfamiliar faces of people. There are the Hybe artists, seniors and juniors, the executives, Bangtan’s staff since their debut, Bangtan themselves, some of Jungkook’s industry friends—Jung Jaehyun, Cha Eunwoo, Kim Yugyeom, Bambam—his parents, few close relatives, his brother and his wife. Most of them, however, are strangers to you.
You don’t even realize that you and Jungwon are walking slower than the beat. At that moment, only the two of you are in sync. Neither of you wanted to reach the end of the aisle where your groom is waiting dressed impeccably in a custom made three-piece Louis Vuitton black and white suit, dark long hair slicked back, piercings on. There is no denying his god-like beauty as he stands tall and proud at the altar; beside him is Yoongi, his best man. His dark eyes watch your every move. His gaze is the only one you can feel on you.
You know he’s challenging you. Walk slower, he probably thinks. You’ll end up beside me anyway. And you did. You reach the altar and Jungkook takes your arm from Jungwon whom he also gives a hug and a firm handshake. You don’t fail to notice Jungwon’s rigid reaction. Jungkook doesn’t care and he wraps your arm around his as he leads you to the center of the aisle where a priest awaits to officiate the wedding—or to you, your lifelong sentence.
The beginning of the ceremony is a blur to you. The priest went on about how sacred marriage and how everyone is gathered to witness your union. Then, the vows come. One of the staff of the wedding planner hands Jungkook a microphone as you face each other. He pulls out a piece of folded paper from the inside pocket of his coat, unfolds it, clears his throat, and begins his vow.
“Y/N, the first time I met you was when we were fifteen years old. I had just debuted and you came to BigHit as a producer. At that moment, I knew you were the one,” Jungkook smiles at you. “But I was too scared to make a move, partly because we were just starting out our careers and dating was a no-no; mostly because I thought I wouldn’t have the chance. You were smart, beautiful, responsible, independent, and work was your life. But the more we got closer, as producer and singer, as people, as friends, my feelings for you just grew.”
He continues. “Then, five years later, I finally had the courage to tell you how I feel, and I won’t lie—when you turned me down, I was heartbroken. I thought all the pain I felt before was incomparable to how I felt when you told me you couldn’t be with me. But as most of the people here know, I’m a very persistent and determined man. I wanted to show you that my love for you was sincere and deep so I did everything to get that ‘yes’ from you. And my god, I was the happiest man in the universe when you finally said that and in the best way you know how—by saying it through a song.”
“I know the beginning of our relationship isn’t easy for the both of us. Back then, it felt like the entire world was against us. But I wanted to thank you for staying despite the despites, for choosing me. Thank you for loving me.”
“Now that we’re starting the next chapter of our lives together, I vow to always love you seven days a week,” the crowd erupts in laughter and he cheekily sends them a smile. “I vow to be with you wherever you are, to be completely and utterly devoted to you for the rest of my life. I vow to be the best husband to you and father to our children. I vow to always be by your side and for you to always have my heart. Y/N, love, I vow to be yours until the end of time.”
Your heart feels like it’s about to burst. You know the guests are probably eating up every single one of his words, interpreting them as ‘sweet’ or some shit like that, but all you can think of is how calculated every word he is. How every word is not a vow or a promise, but a threat.
When it’s your turn to say your vows, you read what he wrote. Every word feels heavy on your tongue. But nothing is as heavy as the next words you’re about to speak.
“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take Yang Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?
He wastes no time to answer. “I do.”
The priest turns to you. “And do you, Yang Y/N, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?”
Your chest rises heavily. The priest waits on your answer. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes burning holes on you.
“I do.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest happily announces.
You and Jungkook face each other and he takes the veil off your face. He places his warm hands on your face and just before he places his lips on yours, a ghostly smirk appears on it. Then, he seals your fate with a kiss. The crowd erupts in cheer. You are now Jeon Jungkook’s wife.
━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.” END
All Rights Reserved. © cupofjeon. 2024. The author does not allow any translation, repost, modification, and the likes for any of her stories. Do not plagiarize. Once again, the author does not condone this type of behavior. Feel free to send your thoughts here. See you in the next fic!
#yandere jungkook#yandere bts#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook au#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook fics#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#dark jungkook#dark bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts au#bts x reader#Spotify
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i hate that old nickelodeon shows are borderline unrewatchable because you now realize how many inappropriate and weird things were put into them by dan schneider. it genuinely makes me so angry that he was allowed to be in charge of writing the scripts for kids shows and no one stopped him from adding in sexual jokes and scenes. and now the shows are ruined and permanently uncomfortable to watch because you know why those scenes are there. i hate it.
#yes this is about henry danger#and it’s like every episode it’s not even avoidable#how this ever was allowed happened is insane to me#i know i’m not saying anything new or revolutionary here i’m just mad#i was going to rewatch henry danger but there’s so many weird things written into it that i couldn’t do it#i’m just pissed i thought i finally found a new show to watch#ciftrchats#rant post#that’s a first for me#henry danger#who would have thought i’d be making a post about henry danger on here#but that’s the end of that i watched 2 episodes and i can’t do it#no henry danger hyperfixation for me
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i hate you stranger things i hate you duffer brothers & co i hate you plausible deniability i hate you queerbaiting i hate you queer subtext i hate you pop culture i hate you straight people i hate you netflix social media managers i hate you i hate you i hate you
#the more i think about it & the more i go thru tags the more genuinely angry i get LOL..................wtf was all that.#stranger things is insane. its so hard to rewatch its suffocating how theres so soso much content but so little fucking HAPPENS in regards#to the characters' relationships with each other are you fucking kidding me#there should be a limit to how many characters and how many plot lines 1 show is allowed to try and juggle LOL#stranger things#st4 spoilers#not directly but. idk#robin buckley#byler#steddie#those are the main things im thinking about LOL#why is vickie robin copy + pasted .#has anyone in the entire show ever even said the word gay or queer or smth not as a slur? oh god#even if they HAVE its a bad sign i cant REMEMBER IT. LOL!#cowboy posts
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asril the tiefling bard
(any pronouns)
#tiefling#original character#oc#yew art#asril#i love him. he is pink#none of these are Finished and they will remain unfinished i just like to scribble#unfinished#im still figuring out exactly how to draw him#hes fun he flirts as a joke and then laughs when people hes not interested in take it seriously. hes kind of mean#im on a new sleeping medication and this guy literally came to me in an insane dream and now im attached to him#trazodone is hilarious bc i have never ever had such detailed dreams while also feeling rested when i wake up#and im also doing weird shit in my sleep which is very very funny to me#the first night i was on it i had a dream i was doing laundry and woke up in the morning with my body pillow neatly rolled up and shoved#into the corner of my room#and then this morning i woke up with a bowl of chips next to my bed in danger of tipping over 😭#nothing Bad has happened and im sure itll pass once my body gets used to it#so its just something to laugh about bc it Is very funny to me#if you follow me you Will see me tag ramble constantly#and im not sorry. i will talk and talk endlessly if im allowed
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my heart is sooooooooooooooo annoying
#i’ve been tryna sleep for three hours wooo#got me thinking about many things#one including how he seemed triggered the other day about some things we were talking about#upset at least#& it just makes me think of baby ben#it breaks my heart#& makes me wanna comfort him immediately#like i don’t even wanna be mad about the things that happened between us anymore#well tbf i’m not mad i just…? don’t trust him emotionally anymore…?#idk but thinking of baby him just makes me feel so BAD#like he’s just that little boy inside really#how can i be mad at that#i just want to love him?#this sounds more insane than it feels in my head#i guess i mean i just see his inner child and it makes me regret being mad and saying things i’ve said#which it shouldn’t because he hurt me and how can i betray the version of me that was so hurt back when it happened#by just allowing it#IDK ITS SO ANNOYING#he’s literally not even sorry#idk why i even think of his inner child fgs but w/e#i loved or love him too much ig#p#IDEK IT LITERALLY DOESNT MATTER#i don’t need to have a good relationship with him because we’re not in each others lives#there’s no reason to discuss or forgive the pain caused#if we decided to be friends or get back together then we’d have to but neither of those are ever going to happen so#🧘🏼♀️#it’s literally only on my mind because of our convo the other day so#i need it to get out of my brain now i’m done thinking about shit i already put behind me pls TY
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imagine bokuto fucking you so good from behind
you’re laid flat on your stomach, where he has two large hands digging into the small dip of your back. He’d already fucked you out, so now with every dragged curl of his hips, it feels ten times longer. He’d go slow before increasing speed.
Sweat is dripping down your body and wetting your hair. He does that lopsided full grin of his and brushes his own sweat droplets from his forehead, before shifting weight completely to his palms and slamming down almost fully parallel to your body. You were pinned. Your walls tugged against the length of him, massaging his cock in a way no fist can. You were tight but so fucking wet, and with every slap of his forgotten balls you get closer and closer to what,, your 4th orgasm?
“H-ah fuck! Oh m’god Ko-“
The bed rocks with every roll, your chin slowly falls with the weight of your head, and your eyes droop inconsistently. You start to mumble to no one into the covers.
“Mmph, fills s’gud,” you’d whine.
“Just hold out for me alright baby? You’re takin’ it like a fucking champ.”
He adjusts one hand to disperse along the whole portion of your back, allowing him to grab one arm and fold it into his hold. He copied the movements for the other while your hips naturally rise. You, him, and the bed bullied the supporting wall together, causing scratch marks of dark grey to stain it. With the loss of cognizance, you didn’t notice how he wasn’t as horizontal anymore, but was pressed more on his knees. The strength he even has to do that is insane— and honestly, you wish you could admit it—but you were too distracted by the slight upward angle this entailed.
If your eyes weren’t rolled back, they were now. Your jaw hung slack when they first shot wide, portraying on your face the exact feeling of ecstasy that ran through your veins. Bokuto noticed how you became stagnant for just a split second. Idle, even.
You then shivered and shook as you sporadically pushed your hips back in an escape. Of course, this was futile with no arms.
“H-Oh my fucking god Kotarō,” your voice was higher than he’d ever heard it.
He just roughed you up towards him, grabbing you by the fat of your ass connecting to your hips, and slipped himself back in like nothing happened. When you tried to wiggle away, you successfully got him to let one hand loose, but the consequence was that one shoulder was on the bed and the other wasn’t, so now your neck was craning to look at him by the side in doggy.
Thrusting into you in a new position where there was nothing left of his dick to see, you could’ve screamed. There was no buildup or anything, he hit the same spot about twice a second, but you were out of energy. In this moment he sacrificed speed for power. With a mindless, animalistic groan, you pushed against him from inside and came. The mixed-haired man smiled once white started to peek out whenever he thrusted. Your ass stained red along with your tightly held wrist.
So you laid there and took it all instead, half mentally here and half not. He only laughed that boisterous laugh from behind you and forced your hips down. They’d ricochet off, then return with momentum. It was hot and wet, a lewd scene with your mixed sounds and his loud grunts. And you know when Bokuto wants something, he goes all out.
He knew you knew the safe word, and he knew you knew when to use it; therefore, he’d fuck you until you could barely think. You loved it.
He’d taunt, “You tryna run away?”
“Hummph”
“sorry babe, what was that?”
“n’mm.”
“close enough.” he concludes breathlessly.
#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu headcanons#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu hcs#god i want him so bad#hq bokuto#bokuto x you#kotaro bokuto#bokuto imagines#bokuto kōtarō#bokuto x y/n#bokuto headcanons#bokuto haikyuu#bokuto#bokuto koutarou#bokuto smut#bokuto kotaro smut#bokuto hcs#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto koutaro x y/n#haikyuu smut imagine#bokuto x female reader#bokuto drabble#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto x fem!reader
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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙ like a feather 🪶 | CL16 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: none just fluff as per
summary: in which you're his celebrity crush and he eventually becomes yours too
a/n: me doing research to write this fic 🤓 (watching the feather mv)
request!!!: Hi, how are you? sooo i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is dating a singer and he's playing the guy who Milo was (in Sabrina Carpenter's Feather music video) and this breaks the internet and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush like Taylor and Travis's relationship. Sabrina Carpenter as a face claim if this okay and thank you.
my masterlist
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa, and 1,023,821 others
yourusername virtual postcards 💋
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gracieabrams wow wow wow
yourusername blushingg
user1 omg mother
user2 ilysm
user3 she is so insane
yourbff wow i love u
yourusername i love u more
user4 im in love
dualipa beautiful as always 💋
liked by yourusername
user5 anyone else peep charles leclerc in the likes?? anyone? just me
user6 is y/n his next victim
user7 i would never allow it
interview ->
twitter ->
messages ->
/
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 991,284 others
user12 urm yn??
user13 what does this mean
user14 Y/N???
user15 IS THIS A CHARLES LECLERC REFERENCE
yourbff ur gonna send ppl crazy with this
yourusername hehehehe
interview ->
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 1,827,023 others
yourusername the feather music video is urs now !!! <333 tysm for all the love on this track & to everyone who helped out with the making of the mv, u might notice a certain someone starring!!!! thank u to our mr ferrari , charles leclerc🙏🪶❤️
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charles_leclerc thanks so much for having me, y/n! it was so much fun
yourusername tysm for being soo cooperative it was the most fun ever!!!! sorry if it was too crazy
charles_leclerc never too crazy
user20 omg 🥲🥲🥲
user21 OH MY GOD
user22 omg they are so hot
user23 THE CROSS OVER
user24 this mv is my new roman empire
user25 they srsly need to date
yourbff wow congrats gorgeous girl !!
liked by yourusername
twitter ->
messages ->
instagram ->
charles_leclerc posted a story
liked by yourbff, carlossainz55, and 398,183 others
user33 CHARLES????!!!!!! AND Y/N?
user34 hard launch or friends
maxverstappen1 wow wait a minute
pierregasly hello?
user35 they're dating i know it
user36 IS SHE UR GF CHARLES
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 809,841 others
charles_leclerc ✈️
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user37 omg...
user38 ok. im speechless
user39 this looks a lot like a hard launch
alex_albon go off
liked by yourusername
gracieabrams love love loveee
charles_leclerc ❤️
yourbff omg
liked by charles_leclerc
user40 HARD LAUNCH??!
user41 omg we've come so far
user42 "she doesnt know who i am" 😭😭😭
francisca.cgomes omg please introduce me
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername
interview ->
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,087,918 others
yourusername well, sure and well, my cat loves him
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user50 NOT THE INTERVIEW QUOTEEEE
maxverstappen1 this has been amazing to watch, so thank you y/n
charles_leclerc i hate you
yourusername hahahah
yourbff i just knew this would happen
pierregasly you're not the only one
user51 everything about this is amazing
user52 most iconic crossover ever
user53 the 2024 season in the ferrari garage is going to go OFF with y/n there
liked by charles_leclerc
user54 fast times? no, fast cars
user55 charles piano feature on a y/n track when
yourusername 👀
user56 OMG
charles_leclerc i feel so lucky
yourusername you're my celebrity crush 🫶
user57 omg
user58 i screamed
THE END ❤️
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 fic#f1 x reader#smau#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#cl16#cl16 smau#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fluff#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#maddie's smau
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ovulation is INSANE
imagine trying to explain ovulation to Eddie as "my body is evil and it wants to get me pregnant" and you have to preface the week like "if I tell you not to use a condom, do NOT listen to me, it's the demons" because you're horny but don't wanna take any chances and he's like... ah, the demons... interesting... so can I still hit or...?
+18 mdni, cw for cumming inside that hasn't been prev discussed, daddy & breeding kink 🫣
you explain it to him and he goes "oh right like the plot in The Silver Chair." and you're like...?? and then in true Eddie fashion he goes on a ten-minute descriptive story rant about some old book that he read back in grade school where a character was cursed to be confined to a chair and no matter how hard he pleaded no one was allowed to break the spell.
or something. ur not really paying attention because Eddie looks so engaging as he speaks, all doey eyes and big hand movements and curly mane of hair that he shakes out to emphasize his points. it really shouldn't come as a surprise to him when you throw yourself across the couch and into his lap as soon as he's done with the story (he recovers quickly and valiantly, have no fear)
and he's never seen you like this before, desperation leaving no room for a proper dressing down- his pants and boxers are shoved to just his mid-thigh, your panties still on but hooked to one side so you can ride him, with quick rolls of your plush hips that he's currently gripping for dear life.
"fuck, sweetheart," he's gasping out, watching your eyebrows pinch together and your mouth part in a soft O, familiar signs of impending orgasm. "already?"
"told you..." you're swallowing down a whimper so you can speak, gathering the strands of hair at the nape of Eddie's neck between your fingers, his head lolling back against the couch, pliant under your touch. "ovulation horny is a- shit, right there- different beast..."
since you're the one riding, you're doing most of the physical work, but Eddie manages to angle up into that spot that makes your walls clench, his feet planted firmly on the ground to support your weight.
you're so close, he can see it in the way your eyes glaze over and thighs tremble. he's watching you with tipped-back head, half-lidded eyes, staving off his own release to get you to break first when he gets an idea.
"you like riding my cock, baby?" he purrs out, one of his hands leaving your hip to rest warm against your stomach. "want me to fill you up? get you good and pregnant? make you mine?"
any worry that he has about your reaction to this melts away with your moans, the idea shooting straight to your core as you shift your hips faster, pleasure mounting.
"that's it, honey," Eddie encourages, panting out your praises as he feels your walls spasming, choking his cock. "come for daddy and he'll fill you up, just like you w-"
he's cut off by your long, low groan as you obey his words, crushing your forehead against his as he helps you ride out your high. you're gushing around his cock that's quick to follow your lead, spilling his seed deep into you with a throaty groan of his own.
you're both covered in a light sheen of sweat as you come down from your highs, soft laughs mingling as you find your breath again.
"bet that didn't happen in your Silver Chair book," you chuckle, pulling back to press a kiss against Eddie's slack jaw.
"C.S. Lewis can go fuck himself," Eddie says, smoothing a hand down the slope of your back. "got the best plot ever right here."
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Yandere! Concubine Harem
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
Many people would call you crazy or insane but you didn’t care. You absolutely hated your life and the god forsaken family you were born into. If you could choose, you would have been born into a lesser family. It wasn’t always like this, in fact when you were younger you were last in line for the throne. It was due to the sabotage of greedy and jealous mothers that got all your half siblings and full blooded siblings murdered. Unfortunately, that meant that you were forced into the position of being the next heir and eventually the new ruler.
You could remember the moment you became heir, you were immediately bombarded with people trying to curry up your favor. You honestly hated it, everyone just felt superficial and it didn’t help that as you grew, so did your power. Even your childhood friends were not immune to this. Imagine your shock when your closest friend got up on one knee and asked for the chance to court you. Then your classmate, then your former brother’s friend, and etc.
You had barely even had a concept of what love was. From a very young age your mother was murdered and your father hardly ever paid that much attention to you as well. You were mostly alone in your own little world and you absolutely loved that. People always just seemed so annoying to you that you did the bare minimum in communicating with others.
You tried to remain single as long as possible but your father did not agree with this decision of yours. He’s always seen relationships and marriage as a way to get more influence from around the world. So at the age of twenty, you were officially given a concubine, a foreign princess from the East. She was clingy and whenever you talked to other people she seemed to always want to monopolize your attention. This behavior only seemed to get worse when your father caused you to take in concubines to gain various alliances.
Within your harem there was competition daily. Sons of generals who tried to show off with their strengths, princesses who tried to get your attention with their singing abilities, princes who would try to show off their archery, scholars who showed off their intelligence, etc. The list goes on and on. There was so much jealousy in your harem that it was unbelievable. It also didn’t help that everyone was always trying to kill each other. You were so sick and tired of it. All you wanted was some peace and quiet.
There were daily assassination attempts on concubines, poised drinks to make someone infertile, constant fake crying so that you could favor someone, and etc. Every single time you take in a new concubine you could always feel them seething but you always ignored it. You didn’t know why they loved you so much, hell you even told them if they ever wanted a divorce you would give it to them. Yet, no one has ever left willingly. It was as if they looked up to you as a god or something it was just so strange.
You’re favored concubines were of course, always thrilled to have your attention on them. They were usually the ones who got to sleep with you at night. Seems as a privilege as only the most loved got to do that. You, however, had to be careful sometimes because unwanted sexual advances could happen anytime in the bedroom.
If you feel in a particularly good mood that day however, you may even let one of them bathe with you. “Your majesty, your skin is silky smooth. I wish to do this with you forever. No words can express how I feel and how much I love you. Won’t you allow me to be your first husband?” Yeah, this was basically how most of your conversations went. Everyone wanted to have the first slot at being your husband or wife. It was the ultimate showcase to prove you loved them the most and was a definite power trip for those in the harem.
Going to bed everyday was like a minefield. You just don’t know who’s going to show up in your chambers. Most of the time it’s one of your concubines, that you allowed to sleep with you for the night, in provocative attire. “Your majesty, I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately. Won’t you please pay some attention to me?” It’s honestly crazy how there is no limit of what these guys wouldn’t do for you. They just seem so overly infatuated and obsessive.
No matter what you did to them, they would always seem to look at you with love and admiration. You could basically insult all of them and they would accept it with a ‘thank you’. Nothing you did, could ever make them hate you.
Bullying was an extreme issue in your harem. No matter where you went there were always green tea bitches, white lotuses, and cunning foxes trying to bring someone down in your eyes. It’s even worse if they're new, having barely any awareness of what is happening, they definitely need to be more careful. No matter where you go at least three of them are stuck to your side. You’re alone time is basically nonexistent and extinct.
With teary eyes one of your concubines shout, “My lord, please help me! I’m being bullied by the others in the harem!” If you were being honest, you absolutely did not care about what was going on and one hundred percent knew that she was just using a manipulation tactic. However, to avoid the incoming headache you begin to console her and tell her that you’ll have a talk with everyone. You then decide to give her what she wanted and guide her towards your bedroom chambers. As you both leave she quickly looks at the faces of the others and sticks her tounge out. There was a look of absolute rage on their faces and with that they all had the same unanimous thought in their head.
“I’m totally going to get that bitch back for this!!!”
Pt.2
#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere harem#male yandere#female yandere#gn reader
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trouble, m | jjk
... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic
--
“Oh, I’m in trouble.”
Panic coursed throughout his veins.
“I can’t be here.”
And maybe a little bit of arousal too.
“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”
He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.
Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.
Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.
Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.
Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.
Like he said, he was in trouble.
Tomorrow.
The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.
I hope your friends ask about me.
The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.
The devil was in the details.
“Hello? Did you space out again?”
Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”
Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”
“R… Right.”
He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”
Jungkook choked.
-
That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.
Mind a billion thoughts a minute.
You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.
Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.
Or more savagely.
You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.
Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?
Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.
“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.
You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.
Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.
Hah.
You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.
Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.
You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.
You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.
Thanks, brain.
Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.
Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.
Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.
If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.
Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.
Hah, what a bother.
You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.
Yup.
Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.
The looking glass showed you two ways.
You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.
Hmmmm.
Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.
What the–
You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.
At goddamn McDonald’s?
Is no place sacred?
It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.
-
Your fingers framing your face.
You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.
Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.
Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.
“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”
What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.
You envied their desire for silence.
Because you had to be loud.
You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.
“P-Please…”
His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.
“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”
You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.
-
This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.
Actually.
That sounded very dramatic.
And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.
Cut out all that risky business.
It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.
Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.
But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.
She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.
He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.
Holy fuck.
Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.
Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?
And, four.
Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.
He had to cover his ass.
Speaking of.
Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.
Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.
She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.
He gasped and screamed under his breath.
The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.
She swallowed.
Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.
“C… Careful…. P-Please…”
Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.
He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.
He did not.
I’m in trouble.
He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?
Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.
“Ready?” she hummed.
“Y- Yeah…”
In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.
Jungkook didn’t even care.
He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”
He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.
“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”
She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.
He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.
Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.
Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.
He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.
“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”
She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”
His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.
“I… I usually last longer…”
“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”
Her sex saved his life.
Her next words murdered him on the spot.
“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”
Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.
-
You could admit it.
You shouldn’t have said that.
But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.
Right?
Wrong.
You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.
Aw, shit.
You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.
Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.
You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.
“Gah!”
“Oh!”
And he grabbed your waist.
Of course, he did.
Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.
You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.
“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”
You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.
Didn’t want to know.
Better not to know.
“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.
“You’re not in my way.”
You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.
“Actually… Please be in my way.”
You froze.
Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.
Oh, I’m in trouble.
He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.
You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.
“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.
An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.
“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.
You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.
No.
This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.
“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”
Jimin was stifling his giggles.
You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.
“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”
Oh no.
“Stay right there!”
Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”
But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.
“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.
You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”
Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.
Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.
“Uh…”
You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”
“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”
You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”
“Yeah, I’m the same.”
Your knee touched his.
He looked at you.
Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.
“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”
“What?”
You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.
“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”
People only get into relationships for shitty sex.
Right?
I want to be around him.
“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”
You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.
Close enough for you to remember.
“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”
His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”
“Yeah, give me your number.”
-
She asked for it like it was easy.
Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.
“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”
“Wait, give me your number.”
She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.
“I want it,” he breathed.
Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.
Like she was trying to hold back.
“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”
“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.
“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”
Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.
-
What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.
Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.
They don’t like you.
You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.
You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.
Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.
Jungkook wanted you.
That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.
He was just waiting for you to start it off.
You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.
I’m in so much trouble, fuck.
You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.
You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
What is this?
You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.
“I c-can’t…”
His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.
“Can’t t-take it anymore…”
Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.
You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.
He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.
He’s too desperate to be a liar.
You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.
I want you.
He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.
“I w-want you…”
He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.
You saw what Jungkook was saying.
He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.
You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…
Until.
“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.
Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.
How could you refuse him?
You just couldn’t.
-
I’m so fucked.
Truly, madly, deeply fucked.
Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.
“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.
Harder?!
Was she trying to kill him?
She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.
He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.
He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.
It wasn’t enough.
Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.
He let his eyes flicker up.
Gasping, baring his depravity.
She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.
“Cum on me, Jungkook.”
Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.
Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.
Her cum and her perfume.
He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.
Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.
“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”
Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.
No, know that she really meant what she said.
His heart fluttered. Took flight.
No.
Soared.
They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.
He was sure.
--
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18+ / mdi
content: perv!wonwoo, established relationship, afab reader, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 2215
a/n: u can assume this is pt. 2 to this or just read on its own. they're not rlly connected at all but same premise 😭
masterlist
being wonwoo's girlfriend was quite an experience. when you'd first met the boy, - courtesy of an introduction through your mutual friend kim mingyu - he had seemed like an absolute gentleman. he was even a little more shy and reserved than most other guys, something you had found adorable during your first few dates. the shy looks and touches at the beginning of the relationship made your heart soar, but they didnt last too long. it wasnt until the relationship got a bit more serious that you got to know the real wonwoo.
although he still treated you like absolute royalty in every aspect possible, providing everything you could ever need and granting every wish you could even imagine, you hadn't realized how much of a pervert your boyfriend truly was until a few weeks into the relationship.
it wasnt like it was a huge issue. and its not like you were against his very obvious obsession with touching you, no. you welcomed it, even. who would be against the constant touch of a jeon wonwoo? denying him would feel like insanity for you, but it could sometimes get in the way of things.
it had just been getting out of hand as of late. you were on a call? too bad, he's rubbing his fingers on your pussy. need to wash dishes? he's eating your pussy from behind. gotta shower? he's stepping in and fucking you against the wall. you need to leave early in the morning? he's holding you back and fucking you into the mattress. your body was bruised and sore (in all the best ways possible) because he just could not be around you without dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. it was pure, never ending pleasure, but it came with never ending interruptions in your every day life.
like now, as you tried to innocently watch a movie with your boyfriend. you knew it was coming, but you still allowed yourself to be caught off guard when wonwoo slowly scooted closer and closer until he was able to sneak his hand into your loose pajama shorts. without even saying anything, he began to rub at you, causing you to lose focus on what was playing on screen, eyes becoming heavy.
"nonu ... the movie," you whined half-heartedly, still wanting to watch the movie but also enjoying his soft touches too much to actually attempt to push him away.
"shh, baby. keep watching the movie," he kept rubbing at you, getting you wetter and wetter by the second, up until he determined you were wet enough for him to slip his fingers in, getting you to whine his name in the way he loved. your eyes closed as his fingers toyed with you, hitting all your favorite spots as you became putty under his hands.
"didn't you wanna watch the movie, baby? what happened? open your eyes for me," he was evil when he got like this. your pleasure was his only focus, but he would only give it to you under his own terms.
you attempted to open your eyes, but your body was working against you, causing you to writhe desperately at the way his thumb had moved up to softly toy with your clit while his pointer and middle finger pistoned in and out of you at a speed your body couldn't process.
"nonu! nonu, please, fuck ..." the high pitch of your voice gave you away without having to warn him of your impending orgasm. he knew all your tells by now, being fully aware that just a few more seconds and he'd have his fingers drenched by you.
"c-cumming! non-u!"
he removed his fingers from you, not bothering to wipe them before slipping them in your mouth without warning. "tasty. right, baby?", he chuckled to himself at your surprised yelp at the sudden intrusion in your mouth.
he snuck his hand right back in your shorts and gathered a bit more of your essence to stick in his own mouth, humming at the taste, "yeah, so fucking good," he scooted to your side, cuddling against you as you still caught your breath before pointing at the movie still playing on screen, "thank you, baby. now tell me what i missed?"
~
you were running a bit late today. you had stayed up late with wonwoo last night, doing things you were too ashamed to say out loud. so you weren't too surprised when you'd woken up and realized you had missed your usual alarm due to your heavy sleep. but it was fine! if you rushed, you could still get ready quickly enough to arrive at a respectable time. the only issue was, you were still buried against wonwoo's chest, strong arms wrapped around you as you felt him press himself up against you. you were pretty sure he was still sleeping, yet not surprised at realizing he was horny even in his sleep.
"nonu? are you asleep?", you attempted to peek at him from your angle, but only catching sight of a fluffy head of hair resting against your back.
he simply groaned in response, snuggling impossibly closer to you, causing you to feel him even more.
"wonwoo, i need to go ..."
"no you dont," he powered through half a sentence even in his sleepy state, "you still got time, don't you baby?"
"im gonna be late, nonu."
he began to unwrap himself from you, making you believe he was moving aside so that you could get up, except he had only disconnected from you so that he could get a better angle to begin to hover his body over yours.
"you have time, though. right, baby? just need five minutes," he mumbled as he began to press kisses to your neck.
your body betrayed you yet again, as you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to kiss on you, "i ... nonu, i'm already late," you left your arms limp on your sides, trying to not indulge on the man above you, but he kept instigating you with his touches.
"don't worry, hmm? ill be quick. you wont be late. promise."
you knew this to be a lie, but the moment he started grinding his hips against yours, you were gone. there was no longer any room for rational thinking in your now-empty head. your arms had now admitted defeat in pretending not to want to seek his touch, now lifting up to grab at his back as he canted his hips down. it was all very soft and slow, very much unlike wonwoo, but you couldnt blame him considering last night's events, when he'd quite literally fucked you into the mattress until the late hours of the night.
he seemed to grow tired of the mere friction after a few minutes, preferring to find your warmth instead. there was no need to undress, since you'd both remained in your nude forms from last night. he slipped in with no problem, groaning out your name into your ear at the feeling. he expressed his pleasure in a wide array of expletives against your ear, breath warm and heavy.
"you're always so tight, baby. so perfect for me."
"cant be away from this pussy for too long or i go insane. but you know that, dont you, baby?"
"driving me fucking insane, shit. pressing up against me all night. thinking i wont just fuck you into the mattress all over again."
"gonna keep this pussy here all day. gonna make sure you can't make it out of bed, baby. would you like that?"
his words had you feeling lightheaded, scratching your nails along the length of his back as he eventually sped up, clearly in search of his climax. wonwoo was always a little extra sensitive in the mornings, something about how pretty and warm you look after waking up, he'd once said. you felt the same, finally looking up to make eye contact with the pretty boy currently hitting your cervix over and over. the softness of his features early into the morning, still tired but simultaneously full of energy to fuck you with made you shudder.
wonwoo came first, filling you to the brim as he began to rub at your clit, wanting you to climax with him. you'd only finished a few seconds later, as he was barely coming down from his own high.
you both fell limp against the bed, side by side as you attempted to catch your breaths.
"baby ..." he spoke up first, "just call in sick. you're already late. i'll make it worth your while ..."
you didn't even need to respond, knowing your body would betray you once again.
~
it was a regular saturday. and every saturday you had the luxury of staying home, free of work. wonwoo had a tendency of matching his days off with yours, wanting to spend the very little free time you had together. unfortunately, most days off were spent running errands and doing household chores, which is what you were doing right now.
you'd usually split the household duties with wonwoo, alternating between what each of you would do. this week it was your turn to do the laundry, while wonwoo took care of vacuuming. you usually enjoyed doing the laundry, but unfortunately for you, this week you had to wash all your towels and sheets on top of the usual load of laundry. but you did it with no complaint, knowing your also-tired boyfriend was currently helping out with his part.
you focused on the laundry for a while, separating what needed to go on different loads while humming along to the song playing from your phone. that is, until you felt something, or rather, someone creep up on you from behind. suddenly hands had appeared on your hips, and a new warmth pressed up against your back. it was wonwoo, of course. unable to keep his hands off you once again.
"nonu, did you finish vaccuming?", you asked, barely reacting to his sudden touch, being completely used to him grabbing at you at any and every possible time.
he simply hummed against you, beginning to let his hands wander, landing on your breasts as he interrupted your folding of clothes.
you sighed, seeming frustrated but not actually being so, "wonwoo, i need to finish the laundry. later, okay?"
"baby ... c'mon. you want it too, i know you," with this, he began to fondle your tits, pinching at your nipples through your clothes and beginning a slow grind against you. he was hard again, at no one's surprise.
as anyone may have guessed, it didn't take long for him to get you to open your legs for him, sitting atop the drier as he hammered into you, banging your bodies against the harsh material of the machine. it was an uncomfortable position, granted, but the pleasure wonwoo always managed to give you overpowered any discomfort.
"n-nonu! shit, right there!", the lower angle in which he was ramming himself at was making you see stars, enjoying the way his pelvis ground against your clit.
he didn't tend to be too vocal, usually sticking to low groans and dirty talk against your ear, which is what he was doing once more.
"hate doing chores baby. just want your pussy .. hate how busy we are lately. gotta fuck you whenever i can. gotta keep you nice and full."
and full he kept you. having either fucked, sucked or gagged you multiple times throughout the rest of the day. his reasoning kept being that today was your one day off that matched both your schedules, and that he'd wanted to take full advantage of it. even after finishing inside you after fucking you on top of the drier for fifteen minutes, he moved on immediately to face you against him, lowering himself to the floor in order to lick at you from behind, eating some of his own cum in the process.
"so fucking tasty. jesus, baby you're perfect."
it was insane to you how insatiable the once shy boy was when it came to your body, but now wasn't the time to think about that. not when you were too busy throwing your head back and pushing your ass against his face in order to get him to lick and suck more at your swollen cunt.
he loved how responsive you were. never denying him and always enthusiastically letting him get away with whichever perverted escapade he wanted at the moment. the thought of his pretty baby being so nice and ready for him at all times made him shove his face even closer to you, sucking at your clit in a way that made you scream out his name. cumming came soon after, having felt overly sensitive after getting no break between your orgasms. you finished with yet another scream of his name, almost dropping on top of him as he lightly licked at you through your high.
"you okay?," he asked after getting up, helping you lean against the dryer in order to not drop due to your wobbly legs.
"you need to stop fucking me every five minutes, nonu. you're gonna render me useless," you chuckled out of breath, despite not meaning your words.
"yeah? let's test that theory out."
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen#svt fanfic#svt#seventeen smut#svt x reader#svt smut#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo oneshot#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines
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tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader
charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.
notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))
disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!
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voguemagazine
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others
voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.
Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.
View all 942 comments
user MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭
user she's the definition of perfection
user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here
↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩
↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo
user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi
user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩
user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list
↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here
↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title
user she’s so beautiful
user i would die for y/n
user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg
charleslc_updates
42,077 likes
charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀
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user lmaoooooo relatable
user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??
↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n
user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰
user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video
user this man fr blushed AHAH cute
user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n
↳ user lol literally like get in line dude
↳ user back of the line bucko
user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met
user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT
user @/yourusername
↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername
ynupdates
239,095 likes
ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.
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user omg she absolutely killed it
user god does she need a dog? i can bark
user i love seeing her thrive
user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc
↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though
↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen
user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are
user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.
user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT
user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week
↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!
user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n
user i could make this exact dress with my curtains
user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others
yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]
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gigihadid sexy lady
↳ yourusername already missing you
user i keep forgetting she's part french
user you absolutely KILLED those shows
voguemagazine iconic ⭐️
alexademie 🔥🔥
user beautiful girl!!
user omggg charles liking this LOL
↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon
↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes
anokyai 😍😍😍
user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl]
*liked by charles_leclerc
↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭
↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments
user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch
↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other
↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho
deuxmoi
31,844 likes
deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris
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user NO WAY OMG
user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here
user i knew you could do it charles!!
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
user so are they dating???
user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH
↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES
↳ user he manifested this 😭
user they look sooo good together
user why does he look so srs
↳ user give my man a break 😩
↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭
user omgg this is like a fairytale
user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this
user i’m so invested
kymillman
201,885 likes
kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES
Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.
Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N
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user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL
user mom and dad 😩
user so it’s official???
↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭
user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him
user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺
user she’s serving though
user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH
↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal
user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold
user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt
↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it
↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1
↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense
user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n
↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn
yn_updates
91,922 likes
yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race
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user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name
user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL
↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha
user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it
↳ user she's so iconic
↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her
user i'm in love with her life
user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES
user lando's so funny 😭😭
user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow
user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace
↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.
user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺
user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't
user didn't they just meet like a week ago
↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while
↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others
charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]
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yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]
yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]
↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]
user are we interrupting something...
user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public
user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak
user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple
user happy birthday y/n!!!
user in love with their love 🥺
user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else
↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy
user i still think this is a pr relationship
user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic
user this is my roman empire
user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane
user our generation's brad and angelina
↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating
user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭
#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc social media au#supermodel!reader#f1 smau#f1 fic#charles leclerc fic
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At War
Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]
Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.
Word count: 2k
Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time.
The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him.
The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year.
You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end.
“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate.
You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"
“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”
“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating.
“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault.
“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back.
You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?”
“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you.
“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow.
“Eat shit!” You call out after him.
“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.
“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work.
Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great.
“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings.
“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today.
“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio.
“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously.
“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage.
“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?”
“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling.
Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.”
He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?”
You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket.
You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”
“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report.
“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch.
Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.”
“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them.
“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table.
“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance.
“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly.
“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.”
“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come.
Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short.
“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash.
“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old.
“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him.
“And when was that?”
“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been.
“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is.
“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher.
“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?”
“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures.
“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock.
“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod.
“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed.
“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?”
You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.
“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.”
“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.
“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door.
“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head.
An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.”
“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head.
“Agreed.”
You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit.
“Did you try-“
“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”
“No way,” he shakes his head.
“What?”
“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas.
“You actually embraced the sleepover?”
He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”
“Thank you.”
“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits.
“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot.
“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.”
“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods.
“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment.
“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.”
He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”
“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”
He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to.
-----------------------------------------
I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3
#luke castellan x reader#pjo fanfic#luke x reader#pjo series#luke castellan#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x you
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Oh, dammit, it finally happened to me. I entered a new fandom and it's filled to the brim with antis. It's for a game that heavily features dark themes and suicide, but you're not allowed to depict those or you ~romanticize~ suicide and self harm.
A ship week posted its prompts, and among the list were entries like making out and self harm. The characters involved are both 16, and lo and behold, a whole bunch of people got angry. Couldn't fathom why these prompts would ever be included in a ship week and started throwing around pedo accusations. "The fact that the organizers blocked naysayers instead of accepting criticism says enough" shows that they don't want to help anyone or have a discussion, they want people to do what they say and obey, no questions asked.
I've never been in a fandom like this. How do I keep myself safe here without going insane? I started by blocking anyone who expresses annoying sentiments, but I plan on writing some dark themes and NSFW stuff. The worst part is that it won't even be SA/underage dark themes or kinky NSFW stuff, just standard coming-of-age and mental health stuff that can be expected between young adults with depression. I already know that people will throw a fit over these aged-up 20 y/o's being depicted as sexual beings anyway.
--
Laugh in their faces when they try shit.
Bullies like smelling blood in the water. They don't like being told they're stupid children whose opinions don't count, whether that's by you actually saying that or you just blocking them as worthless in the first place.
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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.
I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.
But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.
This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.
I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.
How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.
I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.
If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.
I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.
But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.
So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.
But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.
They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.
These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.
Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.
No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.
But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:
I am a Jew.
Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.
I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.
Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!
Then they sent me this:
I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.
Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.
For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.
But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.
I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.
I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.
And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.
But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?
There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.
But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.
So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.
I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.
I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.
I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.
But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.
When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.
My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.
I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.
Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!
EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍
Source Reading
The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications
Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn
Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha
I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg
The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes
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When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss
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What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins
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Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman
The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman
How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner
This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press
Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss
#palestine#israel hamas war#israel hamas conflict#hamas#on war#essay writing#personal essay#rant post#stop terrorism#israel#writing#palestinian lives matter#jewish lives matter#jewish and proud#jewish identity#jewish muslim solidarity#on grief#on religion#antisemitism#anti zionisim#purim 2024#chag purim sameach#judaism#israeli palestinian conflict#am yisrael chai#kvetching#jumblr#mims on middle east#המצב
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hiccup is feral and everyone (including me) just Forgets this
things this menace did that we kinda just??? never thought about?????
- spared the life of the most deadly dragon near berk. not only that, but cut him loose from the netting that, for all hiccup knew, was the only reason toothless wasn't killing him
- proceeded to Befriend that dragon, the first viking to do so in like?? ever??? (valka doesn't count. she was gone 20 years i think she loses the title of viking)
- THREW AWAY ALL HIS WEAPONS, INCLUDING HIS HELMET, IN FRONT OF A TRAUMATIZED, REACTIVE MONSTROUS NIGHTMARE. BOY ARE YOU TRYIN TO GET KILLED
- got the other teenagers his age to RIDE those dragons they were training to kill INTO BATTLE??? HOW DID THE DRAGONS JUST ALLOW THAT. HOW DID THE PEOPLE ALLOW THAT.
- TOOK ON A GIGANTIC FIREHOSE-TPYE-FIRE-BREATH QUEEN???????? WITH JUST HIM AND HIS (very small!) DRAGON???
- and WON
- [handwaves at all the shows] i haven't watched those recently and also this post would be a mile long so i will just highlight One thing
- JUMPS OFF CLIFFS. MULTIPLE TIMES. WEARING AN INVENTED FLIGHTSUIT. TOOTHLESS KEEPS HAVING TO SAVE HIM. TOOTHLESS IS SO TIRED
also, in movie two:
- goes CHARGING off with NO backup to go see A MAN WHO COMMITTED MASS MURDER and CHANGE HIS MIND ABOUT DRAGONS
(to be fair the changing his mind was a fair thought process considering alvin. and dagur. and viggo. although that took MONTHS and required his team to forsake him first anyway that wasn't even hiccup that was a random monstrous nightmare in a cave. but he probably thought it was him somewhat i don't know if the monstrous nightmare even came up in conversation)
- what else did he do that was feral he was less off-the-walls batshit insane in this movie the above point was kinda it
- OH YEAH pulled his dragon OUT OF MIND CONTROL with the power of LOVE and TALKING GENTLY and KINDNESS. which has NEVER happened according to drago and he's had that bewilderbeast for years if not DECADES
- that whole rescue mission was wild actually
#httyd#how to train your dragon#sundrops#what is WRONG with this man and i mean that in the best way possible
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