horchatakoo

[horchatakoo]

where did you go..😞

I’m still hereee… I just don’t have any ideas what to write lol

[horchatakoo]

The More You Struggle, The Tighter I Hold

Synopsis: Jungkook has given you everything, so he doesn’t quite appreciate it when you choose a broke college boy over him.  Themes: chaebol yandere jungkook, rich brat reader, mind conditioning, manipulation, age gap, older jk, nsfw, smut, dubcon, crempie, pregnancy kink

Jungkook has spoiled you rotten for as long as he can remember—lavishing you with expensive gifts, funding your every whim, covering your wishlist without hesitation. Free trips abroad for you and your friends, extravagant dinner dates, even pulling strings to get you into your dream university when your grades didn’t quite meet the requirements. A simple call to the dean, a casual mention of your "relation," and suddenly, doors that should have remained closed swung wide open for you.

He has always been there, protecting you, guiding you, offering advice like a good older brother would. And for years, that’s exactly how you saw him—a doting, dependable presence, someone you could always rely on.

But Jungkook never wanted to be just seen as an older brother.

He wanted more.

Maybe it started the first time he met you, when your father brought you to one of his meetings with Jungkook’s grandfather. You were just ten years old then, a shy, quiet child clinging to the edges of the conversation while he, at sixteen, regarded you as the little sister he never had. Someone fragile, someone to protect.

At least, that’s what he thought his feelings were.

Until you turned seventeen.

That was when everything shifted. Your body began to change—your hips, your chest, the graceful curve of your waist.

Your innocence took on an unintentional allure, oblivious to how you moved, how your body would be pressed into him when you came running to hug him, how you smiled, or how your presence began to unearth something dark and possessive inside him.

That was when Jungkook stopped seeing you as his little sister. And started seeing you as something else entirely.

He saw you as a woman, a woman that should belong to him, rather than that of a younger sister, but you are oblivious to that fact. 

Jungkook’s help isn’t limited to just you—it extends to your entire family, ensuring their unwavering favor, shaping their perception of him as a saint, a savior, a blessing from heaven that they could never repay.

When his grandfather retired as chairman of the Jeon Conglomerate, Jungkook stepped into his rightful position, making sure that your family reaped the greatest benefits from his power.

But those benefits didn’t come without cost…

He had orchestrated everything. Pulled the right strings, made the right moves, and watched as your family’s company crumbled under carefully placed pressure—only for him to appear at just the right time with an outstretched hand and an offer too generous to refuse.

A lifeline. A godsend.

Your father and brother were given prestigious positions within his empire—roles they were woefully unqualified for, yet perfect for keeping them satisfied.

Jungkook knew your father had been embezzling funds from the Jeons for years, a rat biting the very hand that fed him. But Jungkook never stopped him. He never exposed him. Instead, he tolerated it, even allowed it, letting your father gorge himself on wealth that Jungkook could make back in mere minutes.

Because money has never been an issue to him,

It’s not what Jungkook wanted the most…

You are. 

Your family had been consumed by greed long ago, blind to the noose tightening around them as they dug their own graves.

And Jungkook?

He only watched in quiet amusement.

He had always known their sins would serve him one day. That when the time came, their insatiable hunger for wealth and status would tip the scales in his favor.

After all, they were nothing more than beggars dressed in wealth—always grasping for more, always willing to sell whatever was necessary for a place at the Jeon table.

Even you.

And why wouldn’t they? Everything they had—every luxury, every privilege—existed only because of him.

If not for Jungkook, your family would have sunk into bankruptcy long ago.

You were almost just like them—you couldn’t live without gold under your feet. The only difference was that you never took advantage of anyone, never used people for your own gain. 

You weren’t capable of something like that. 

In Jungkook's mind, a kind and innocent thing like you isn’t capable of such sin.

You were just... spoiled. If that was the right word for it. Born into wealth, raised in luxury, never knowing what it was like to beg for anything.

And Jungkook was fine with that.

More than fine.

Because once you became his, he planned on spoiling you even more.

For a long time, everything unfolded just as Jungkook had planned—until he received the most offensive news from you.

“Kookie, meet Hoseok. We’re in the same college department… he’s, um, my boyfriend.”

You introduced him shyly, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s slender frame.

Jungkook sat there, his glass of wine in hand, gaze locked onto the two of you. He looked at Hoseok from head to toe, trying to process what you had just said—as if hearing it aloud would somehow make it more real.

Here you are, standing beside a guy who looked like he had thrown himself together in five minutes—jeans, Converse, and a wrinkled T-shirt that was probably the first thing he grabbed from his small closet.

An attire that's entirely not suited to a luxurious dinner place like this

His nervous smile only made the contrast more jarring.

And then there’s Jungkook, in a perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist—an image of wealth and power that felt completely at odds with this moment.

“You never told me anything about this… guy, baby,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice cold as he set his wineglass down.

Of course, you're twenty now. It's only natural that you’d have a boyfriend. But he never imagined it would be this soon, especially since he’d never seen you show any real interest in relationships.

He always thought your attention was his alone—that no unworthy man could ever steal it.

But it seems he was wrong.

In his mind, maybe he should’ve arranged your marriage with him sooner.

Hoseok stiffened at the way Jungkook called you baby, but he quickly shook off the thought. You’d told him before that Jungkook was like an older brother—maybe this was just how he spoke.

“Well, I always forget,” you said casually, taking a seat and gesturing for Hoseok to join you as you skimmed through the menu.

Jungkook only hummed in response, swirling the wine in his glass.

“U-uh, hi, sir,” Hoseok finally spoke up, his voice tentative, trying to break the tense silence.

You had warned him before coming in that Jungkook might come off as strong and intimidating, but that he was actually sweet underneath it all.

But nothing about Jungkook’s aura felt sweet to Hoseok.

Well—at least to you, Jungkook was sweet.

Jungkook certainly heard Hoseok’s attempt at a greeting. He even glanced at him briefly. But he didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, his attention remained fixed on you.

“Baby, do your parents already know about this?” His voice was calm, but there was something heavier beneath it, something unreadable.

You tensed for a second but quickly recovered. “Kookieeee, please don’t tell them. You know how they can be sometimes. I only told you because I knew you’d be happy for me,” you said with a sweet smile.

You were definitely wrong about that.

None of this made Jungkook happy. Not even a little.

But he chuckled softly, watching how you tried to act cute in front of him, hoping to convince him to keep your little secret.

"Fine,”

Hoseok sat there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable—the way Jungkook’s presence seemed to dominate the space, the way the dynamic between the two of you didn’t quite sit right with him.

This wasn’t how normal childhood friends act, even if you say that you're very close with Jungkook.

Still, he chose to remain silent. He wasn’t about to speak out of turn in front of a man who looked like he could crush him for even the smallest mistake.

Jungkook drained the last of his wine, then glanced at his wristwatch before rising from his seat.

“Well, you two have fun,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Order whatever you want.” He said as he handed you his black card.

“But Kook! I thought you had cleared your plans for tonight?” Confusion flickered across your face.

“Yeah, I know, baby. But you know how it is. I’m a busy man.”

That was a lie.

He had indeed cleared his schedule. This night was supposed to be just for the two of you. But Hoseok’s presence had ruined his appetite.

My driver will pick you up at eight,” he continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You know how your mom doesn’t like you coming home late.”

“Uhh, sir… I actually intend to bring her home myself—”

“Alright, baby?” Jungkook cut him off, his voice gentle but firm, like a parent dismissing a child.

The conversation was already over.

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Okay…” you murmured, the slight sadness in your voice betraying the unspoken truth:

Jungkook didn’t like Hoseok for you.

And he never would.

And just like that, the night ended with you being picked up by one of Jungkook’s driver after you and hoseok finished eating dinner that jungkook had paid for.

Hoseok might not say it aloud, but he hated it…

Hated how Jungkook had effortlessly covered the bill when he could’ve just taken you somewhere he could afford.

It felt like a reminder—like a quiet way of putting him in his place.

And it didn’t help that you wouldn’t stop babbling about how good the food was.

“God, that steak was delicious! It tasted almost the same as the ones we had on our Europe trip…”

Hoseok only hummed in response, already annoyed, his fists clenching at his sides as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. And there it was—a sleek black Mercedes waiting in front of the restaurant, Jungkook’s driver standing there to greet you.

“Good evening, Miss Y/N.”

You barely noticed Hoseok’s stiff posture beside you. “My driver’s here. Bye, Hoseok!” you chirped, flashing him a small smile before slipping inside the car without a second thought.

Hoseok stood there for a moment, watching as the car pulled away, his jaw tightening.

If that’s how Jungkook reacted, then what more if your parents found out you were dating him?

And though you had always been so kind to Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel like he was beneath you—like he wasn’t someone worthy of standing by your side.

A week had passed since that dinner. The one where you introduced Hoseok to Jungkook like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shift the earth beneath your feet.

You honestly thought things were going fine.

But Hoseok had been… gone.

Not in the literal sense—no, he was still enrolled, still somewhere in the city—but he hadn’t attended any of your shared classes, hadn’t shown up at the student publication office where the two of you spent almost every afternoon.

His name no longer popped up in your notifications, no missed calls, no good morning texts.

Just... silence.

A gaping void where he used to be.

You reached out to people, trying not to sound desperate.

But the responses were all the same:

"I don’t know." "Ask someone else." "We’re not getting involved in your drama."

Drama?

What drama?

Everything was going fine. Wasn’t it?

Something in you says that he's avoiding you, but you refuse to accept that, because everything was just fine. Instead, you convince yourself to believe that maybe something has just happened that doesn't concern you, perhaps a family emergency that he has to take care of.

But why is he not messaging you if that's the case? The longer the silence dragged on, the more it chipped away at your patience.

Until finally, you decided you’d had enough.

If he wasn’t going to face you at uni, then you’d confront him at his apartment. You need to get your answers to the questions that have been bugging your mind.

You didn’t bother texting. You didn’t even knock.

The spare key he’d given you months ago still worked.

The lights were off when you stepped inside. Your first impression was that he might not be home—you were halfway through calling his name, just to make sure he really wasn’t there, when you heard something from the bedroom—faint, but unmistakable.

A moan.

You stopped cold.

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

No.

No, no, no.

You moved before you could think better of it, storming down the short hall toward his bedroom. The door was cracked open just enough.

You pushed it.

And instantly wished you hadn’t.

There he was.

Hoseok.

On top of someone, some girl you barely recognized from one of the campus orgs. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back, both of them breathless, gasping, fucking like they had no care in the world until they felt your presence that caught them off guard.

You felt stupid—after all those days of searching for him, calling and worrying, wondering what could've happened to him, only to find him enjoying himself between some other girl's legs.

A strangled noise left your throat as you stumbled back a step. Your vision blurred for a second, and the ringing in your ears drowned out whatever garbled excuse the girl tried to throw on as she scrambled for a sheet.

Hoseok didn’t even flinch.

Didn’t even look guilty.

He didn’t bother covering up. Didn’t even look surprised anymore. Just annoyed.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, pulling away from the girl beneath him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You were frozen, the image of him and that girl still burned behind your eyelids.

“You stalking me now?” he scoffed, reaching for his jeans without shame. “God, I should’ve known you wouldn’t take the hint.”

“The hint?” your voice cracked. “You disappeared on me, Hoseok. You ignored my calls, ditched class—what the fuck was I supposed to think?”

He rolled his eyes, zipping his pants. “That it’s over. That’s what you should’ve thought.”

Your stomach dropped.

“But… you didn’t even—”

“Didn’t even what? Text you some sappy breakup message?” he sneered.

“Why would I waste my time on that? It’s not like we were anything serious.”

Your breath hitched, refusing to believe what he just said, though it was crystal clear.

"You told me you loved me!"

“Yeah, well,” he said, grabbing a shirt and carelessly pulling it over his head, “I say a lot of shit. Doesn’t mean I meant it.”

The girl behind him giggled under the covers, which only infuriated you further, and Hoseok didn’t even glance at her. His eyes were on you, and they weren’t kind like how it was before.

“Look,” he said, “That Jungkook guy? He opened my eyes, alright? You’re nothing but trouble. Ever since I got with you, my grades lowered, fuck, my scholarship's even hanging by a thread. My future is on the line. You dragged me into your chaos and I’m finally fucking done.”

You blinked back the sting in your eyes, confusion tightening in your chest. How was Jungkook even involved in this?

“No… Jungkook wouldn’t do that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok barked a bitter laugh, eyes blazing. “Well, he fucking did.”

“Go cry to your sugar daddy or whatever the hell he is to you. I’m done.”

You were speechless.

As much as you hated Hoseok for cheating on you, there was one person you blamed even more—Jeon Jungkook. The tears came before you could even begin to process it all, a sob breaking in your throat as the pain swallowed you whole. Hoseok didn’t spare you a second glance; he shoved you out of his dorm like you were nothing, slamming the door shut in your face.

You felt betrayed...

not just by Hoseok, but by Jungkook.

How could he sabotage the one relationship that meant the world to you? How could he be so cruel and manipulative, as if destroying what you had would somehow bring him any satisfaction?

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Jungkook had always been your angel, your protector. The thought of him being the one pulling the strings, the one who ruined you, didn’t make sense.

You wanted so badly to believe that Hoseok was just lashing out, making excuses for his betrayal. But no matter how tightly you clung to that hope, his words rang with a cruel kind of truth that you couldn’t ignore.

You didn’t even know how you got here.

After all the drama, the shouting, the betrayal—after all the tears you’d shed in Hoseok’s hallway just this afternoon—you should’ve been curled up in your bed, buried under blankets, trying to sleep the pain away.

But here you were.

At Jungkook’s building.

At his penthouse.

Driven by rage, betrayal, confusion, everything tightening in your chest until your body moved on its own.

You barely remembered how you got through the lobby. The security guard looked up from his desk and blinked in surprise, but when he saw your face, something in his demeanor softened.

“Miss,” he said gently, “You can go right up. He said you’re always welcome.”

Of course he did.

You hated how familiar this was—how the elevator doors opened to his private floor like the building itself was trained to welcome you. You hated that your trembling fingers still remembered the code. The moment the door swung open, his scent was already wrapping around you like a trap.

And you hated, most of all, that he looked happy to see you.

He was standing in the middle of his massive living room, wine glass in hand, dressed in a soft brown sweater and slacks, like the world hadn’t just been shattered around you.

His smile bloomed the moment your figure came into view.

“There you are,” Jungkook said, voice warm and slow, eyes twinkling as he opened his arms for you.

“Come here, angel. I was just thinking about y—”

Instead of a tight hug, all he got from you was a slap in his cheek.

The slap rang louder than you expected.

His cheek snapped to the side, skin blooming red where your palm struck him.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Just stood there with his face turned, lips slightly parted, as if you’d short-circuited something in him.

Silence.

Then slowly, his eyes returned to yours as his calm demeanor didn't change.

A slow smile curled at the corner of his mouth—too knowing, too soft, too smug.

“Ah,” Jungkook murmured, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “So you found out.”

And that was the only confirmation you needed. It was all his doing. A part of you had already known it was him, but you needed to hear it from him, and he delivered.

Your throat tightened, but no tears came this time. You were all cried out.

“So you really did it,” you whispered. “You ruined us.”

Jungkook tilted his head as he eyed you intensely. “Ruined?” he echoed, like it was a foreign word.

He let out a breathy laugh, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“No, baby. I didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “I just reminded him of what he already knew.”

You stared at him in disbelief

His eyes dropped to your swollen, puffy face—red-rimmed eyes and cracked lips. He stepped closer, not to console, but to admire.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle against your cheek.

You slapped his hand away.

He didn’t flinch.

“You had no right,” you snapped, voice trembling with restrained fury. “Hoseok and I—what we had, it was real. He loved me. We were—”

“He was weak,” Jungkook cut in smoothly, “and undeserving.”

“You don’t get to decide that!" You shouted at him as your face flushed red from anger.

“I do,” he said calmly, like he was explaining something to a child.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N? You belong to me. After everything I’ve done for you, for your family, and you still dared to choose him? I was being generous, patient, so fucking kind with you. But let me make one thing clear."

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he grips your chin a little too tightly, leaning in until his lips nearly graze your ear.

"I don’t share. No one touches what’s mine."

Your breath hitched, skin prickling where his words lingered against your ear. It all started to make sense—every sweet gesture, every moment he showed up exactly when you needed someone, the silent ways he looked at you like you were already his. His care had never been brotherly. Not even close. You had been so foolish, blind to the possessiveness hiding behind his soft smiles, mistaking his obsession for affection.

And now that the truth was out, there was no going back.

Your legs felt unsteady as you took a step back, but Jungkook didn’t let you get far. His hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, gentle yet firm, anchoring you in place.

“You manipulated Hoseok,” you whispered, the realization choking out of you. “You wanted to ruin us.”

He didn’t even flinch. His thumb caressed the curve of your jaw, voice steady and low.

“No. I had to ruin him. Because he was in the way.” His smile curved, slow, and sinful. “He was holding onto something that never belonged to him in the first place.”

Jungkook, you used to know, the boy who used to laugh with you, protect you, was gone. In his place stood a man whose obsession clung to you like a vice, dark and suffocating.

He looks like he could kill in this moment, as you keep on throwing hurtful words at him

“You’re fucking insane! I don’t ever want to see you again! I swear to God, I’ll leave the country if that’s what it takes to get away from you!” you screamed, ripping his hand off your neck with every ounce of strength you had. He was too strong. It took force, and it hurt.

You see, Jungkook had always been patient. Painfully patient. If he hadn’t been, he would’ve taken you years ago.

But now? Now the thread had snapped. And the moment those words left your mouth, something inside him broke.

Leave?

You were going to leave him?

After everything he gave you? After everything he destroyed for you?

“No, baby. You’re not fucking leaving,” he said lowly, eyes dark as he stalked toward you like a predator. He gripped your arm hard, making you stumble back, his breath hot against your face.

“Let go! I’ll tell my father everything!”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Want me to dial him for you?”

You tried to fight him, lashing out like a wild animal. The vase by the table shattered as your arm knocked into it, and you didn’t even think—you just grabbed a jagged shard and held it up, hand trembling, eyes wild.

“Stay the fuck away from me, you psycho!”

He stared at you with that maddening calm, like you were amusing. Like, your resistance was cute. And then he stepped forward with lethal grace.

He knew his flowering words and soft tone wouldn't work with you in this situation, you left him with no choice but to use a little bit of force in order to tame you.

“You really think I’d let you hurt yourself over something this stupid?”

In one swift movement, he twisted the shard from your fingers, faster than you could react. Before you could scream, his hand was in your hair, the other on your waist, and your head slammed into the wall with brutal force.

The last thing you heard was your name on his lips before everything faded to black

Your head throbbed painfully as consciousness slowly crept in. The ceiling above you was initially unfamiliar—until the soft fabric brushing against your skin, the scent of expensive cologne, and the dim glow of the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows reminded you exactly where you were.

You're still in his penthouse... in his bed.

You shifted, realizing you were wearing one of your pajama dresses. One you hadn’t worn in ages. One you hadn’t brought here.

A soft voice broke through the fog in your head.

“You’re awake,” Jungkook murmured beside you, his fingers gently stroking your hair, eyes filled with something unsettlingly tender. “You hit your head, baby. I had to take care of you.”

For a fleeting second, you saw him—the version of Jungkook you used to know. The kind smile. The boy who was always there. But you forced yourself to push that illusion away. That version of him is just an illusion, a facade to his true, dark intentions.

You scrambled off the bed in a panic, nearly tripping over yourself as you ran to the door. Locked. Every other exit—locked. No keypad, no handle you could pry open. You darted from one end of the penthouse to another, only to find nothing but dead ends.

“It’s no use,” Jungkook said calmly, standing from the bed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he watched you look for an exit.

“You’re staying here now. I’m not letting you run away from me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” you snapped, voice cracking with disbelief.

Then you saw it—all your designer clothes, your bags, your makeup, your shoes, tucked neatly in his walk-in closet like they belonged there.

Like you belonged here.

You spun to face him, breath short and broken.

“You moved my things…”

“I’ve been preparing this for a while,” he simply said as he slowly walked toward you.

“This is insane,” you whispered, eyes wide with disbelief, your voice trembling before it exploded into a scream. “My parents—they’ll come for me! You’re gonna pay for what you’re fucking doing!”

Jungkook chuckled low, dark, and slow, like he found your defiance amusing. He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with possessive fire as he tilted his head. “Come for you?” he echoed, voice almost mocking. “You mean your greedy parents who work for me now?”

He leaned in, voice dipping into a growl against your ear as he added, “Sweetheart, they’re the ones who sent all your things here. They were more than happy to hand you over to me."

And that’s when it hits you—you’re alone in here, with no one to run to. Even your parents betrayed you, their only daughter, all because they were too blinded by the money Jungkook has.

"No! This is impossible. My parents wouldn’t do that—Jungkook, please," you begged, falling to your knees as you wrapped your arms around his legs. At this point, you didn’t even know why you were begging him. Desperation? Hope? A final plea for the version of him you once knew?

But empathy was the last thing on his mind.

Instead, the sight of you, broken, pleading, lips trembling as you whispered his name, only turned him on.

There was something so intoxicating about having you like this, so helpless and pretty on your knees, as your plump lips were wet with your tears.

Sooner or later, he'd have you crying for something else.

"Shh, sweetheart," he cooed as he crouched down to meet your level, brushing your hair back with a gentleness that contradicted the madness in his gaze. "Stop crying. You’re going to learn to love it here. This is your home now."

Indeed, you had no choice but to stay in his penthouse for these past few weeks, trapped in his world with no way out. Your days blurred into one another, a monotonous loop of routines: a cold, solitary bath, forced meals, and endless hours spent staring at the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You waited for Jungkook’s return, your mind spiraling as the isolation ate away at your sanity.

The silence was maddening. The lack of human contact drove you to the edge, and desperation took hold.

You missed the life that you once had, partying and going out with friends, attending classes, and so on, so you tried to escape, of course.

The first time, you managed to hurt one of his security guards as you scrambled your way out, though it was of no use as there were too many of them.

The second time, you threatened to harm yourself with a kitchen knife if they didn’t let you out.

That was when Jungkook decided that enough was enough. He began working from home, his eyes always on you, keeping you under his watchful gaze, with every sharp tool that he thought you could use to hurt yourself are now hidden or moved away.

"Ahhh... please stop!" you pleaded as a harsh slap landed on your bum. You were bent over, turned around with your tummy pressed against his knees as he spanked you (if that makes sense).

"Fucking stubborn woman! What did I tell you about lying, huh?!" he growled, landing another slap to your ass. The dress you were wearing had ridden up, exposing your bare core—he hadn’t allowed you to wear any undergarments.

You didn’t know why, but your body had been so needy and hot these past few days. You’d been getting wet out of nowhere, so turned on that you ended up touching yourself in the bathroom whenever he wasn’t around—too embarrassed to let him see you like that.

And just like now, you were already soaked from the way his rough palms met your skin, each slap sending a sting of heat through your core, making you tremble with want.

It was humiliating… and unbearable.

But of course, Jungkook knew everything.

He’d been slipping aphrodisiacs into your meals every time he forced you to sit on his lap and eat like a baby. And yes—he knew how you secretly touched yourself, thanks to the hidden cameras planted all over the house. He got off on watching you fall apart when you thought he wasn’t looking, addicted to how lewd you’d become under his control.

“Dirty whore,” he sneered, fingers suddenly sliding down back and forth to your slick folds. “You’re even getting wet from this, huh?”

You shuddered instantly, a sharp moan ripping from your throat as his fingertips grazed your sensitive pussy lips before spreading it with his fingers, exposing just how soaked and desperate you truly were.

“Look at you,” Jungkook muttered, almost amused as he ran his fingers along your soaked slit, spreading the slickness just to watch you twitch. “Dripping all over my lap like a fucking slut. Getting off on being punished?”

You whimpered, face flushed with heat, your fingers curling into the fabric beneath you as his touch sent sparks down your spine. His voice was low and mocking, but it lit you up in the worst way.

“You act like you hate it,” he said, dipping one long finger inside you without warning, “but your cunt tells me the truth.”

A breathy moan escaped you, hips jerking as the digit curled deep inside. He moved slowly at first, dragging it out just to watch your body react. Then he added a second, scissoring them apart, stretching you as you gasped.

“Such a filthy little thing. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this, huh? My fingers inside you while you grind your pathetic pussy on the bathroom sink,” he hissed into your ear, his fingers now pumping with more force. “You like being watched, baby? Knew I’d see you eventually?”

You couldn’t even form words anymore—just broken moans and whines as your walls clenched around him.

Then came the third finger.

You cried out, your legs trembling as he stuffed you full, knuckles deep now, fucking you rough and slow, like he wanted to feel every desperate flutter inside you. The stretch burned and thrilled you at once, leaving you clawing at his thigh, right on the edge.

So close. You were right there. Vision hazy, thighs slick and shaking, pleasure curling so tight it hurt.

But then he stopped.

Just like that—everything halted. He pulled his fingers out, slow and wet, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing.

You gasped, back arching as if trying to chase the feeling, your body trembling with frustration.

“N-no—please!” you cried, writhing against him, your once stubborn self now long gone, like a passing rain as you begged “Please, Jungkook… don’t stop, please—I need it, I need you—anything!”

He held his slick fingers up to your lips, eyes dark with twisted satisfaction. “Anything?” he smirked. “Then beg like the needy little cumslut you are.”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes glassy, lips parting as you leaned in—desperation burning in your gut.

“Yes—please, Jungkook. I’ll be good. I swear. Just—please—”

But he didn’t wait for you to finish.

He pressed his fingers against your lips, the same ones slick with your arousal, and you moaned as you eagerly opened your mouth, sucking them in like they were his cock. Tongue swirling, lips sealing tight around each one, you cleaned them with such obedience it made his cock twitch beneath you.

His jaw clenched as he watched you, his breath shallow, eyes dark and gleaming.

Fuck.

The drug worked.

He knew it would, but seeing the result was another thing entirely.

There you were—his once defiant little brat—on your knees, brain fogged, drooling around his fingers like they were candy. Completely unaware. Completely his.

So sweetly fucked up that you didn’t even care anymore that you were locked in here. That he owned your body, your mind, your every breath.

And now, after all your pathetic little protests, you were begging him to touch you? To fuck you?

Thought you hated me, sweetheart. Thought you wanted to escape.

His cock throbbed at the thought—how far gone you were. How easy it had become to twist your desire into obedience.

And he wasn’t even close to done.

Jungkook slowly pulled his soaked fingers from your mouth, watching your tongue chase after them like you couldn’t stand to be without the taste.

“Good girl,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “You want to be fucked that badly, huh? You want to be ruined?”

You nodded, whimpering as you pressed your thighs together, slick leaking down the insides of your legs. “Yes—please, please—kookie"

That was all it took.

He gripped your hips with bruising force and dragged you down off his lap, flipping you over like a ragdoll onto the plush carpet. You barely had time to gasp before he was yanking his sweats down, cock already thick and hard, veins throbbing with anticipation.

“Then take it,” he growled, grabbing your thighs and spreading you open. “Take all of it, slut.”

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust.

Your back arched, a choked scream bursting from your lips as he buried himself to the hilt—stretching you so deep, so full, it knocked the air from your lungs. There was no time to adjust. He didn’t give you that luxury. His hips were already snapping into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls as he fucked you raw.

“God, listen to you,” he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. “Crying on my cock like you were made for this. And maybe you were, huh? Just a filthy little hole to fill up and break down.”

Your mind was gone—drugged, drunk off him, off the stretch and the heat and the possessive grip he had on your body. Your moans turned to sobs, pleasure slamming into you over and over, your nails clawing at the floor as he pounded into you without mercy.

“Gonna come?” he mocked, voice ragged, hips grinding against you with devastating precision. “You’re already close, aren’t you? Fucking pathetic. All it took was a few slaps, a little drug in your food, and now you’re creaming all over my cock like a whore.”

You could only moan his name in response—broken, needy, soaking him with every thrust. The coil in your gut tightened so violently you couldn’t breathe, your body ready to shatter.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, his voice like poison and silk.

“Then come for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel this ruined cunt squeeze around me.”

And just like that—you snapped.

Your orgasm hit like lightning, legs trembling, walls clenching around him so tight it dragged a feral groan from his throat. He didn’t stop—riding you through it, fucking you harder, chasing his own high.

“Take it,” he grunted. “Take every fucking drop. Gonna put a baby in you, gonna make you round and full"

With one final thrust, he slammed deep, spilling inside you with a guttural moan, cock pulsing as he filled you full. Your body jerked, overstimulated and wrecked, tears sliding down your cheeks as you lay there trembling under him.

Breathless and used

And Jungkook—still buried deep inside you—grinned.

The room still smelled like sex.

Your body was limp in his arms, skin marked with his touch—red, bruised.

Jungkook hadn't let you move much after he’d fucked you into the floor. He'd simply gathered you into his lap, his cock still wet with your slick, and held you there, stroking your hair like you were the most precious thing he ever ruined.

“I think it’s time,” he murmured against your temple, voice soft. “You’ve been good lately.”

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, dazed and exhausted. “Time… for what?”

“To go see your family.”

Your breath caught.

He chuckled. “Under my watch, of course. couldn't let you be naughty"

Jungkook knew he couldn’t keep you locked up forever. That would only risk bringing back your stubborn streak. No—rewarding you with a bit of freedom was the smarter move. After all, you were already too blind to see that any of this was wrong.

You should’ve felt uneasy or angry, like the first time he brought you here. But you didn’t.

Not anymore.

Now, you understood.

Jungkook was right. He did know what was best for you. You were wrong to think the man you once loved was gone. He wasn’t. He never left. He just needed to tame you—to show you who you truly belonged to.

“Thank you, Kookie,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to the only person who ever really saw you.

clearly pleased—finally seeing you with the man they had always wanted for you. It wasn’t just approval in their eyes anymore… it was pride. As if they, too, had finally earned their seat at the Jeon table.

You sat quietly beside Jungkook, his presence towering even in his silence. His hand rested on your thigh beneath the table, firm and possessive. Every so often, he’d squeeze—his palm sliding just a little higher, fingers teasing slow circles into your skin, right where it made you press your legs together.

And then he walked in.

Hoseok.

He wore an apron now, working as a server at the restaurant your parents had chosen. His eyes widened when he spotted you, tray in hand—probably shocked to see you after the messy breakup you had with him.

You should have felt mad that he was there—should’ve remembered how deeply you once loved Hoseok, loved him enough to choose him over Jungkook, again and again.

But you didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

Because now you knew. You remembered what Jungkook told you—what he made you see.

Hoseok had never loved you. Not really. He’d cheated on you. Lied. Gaslit you into thinking it was your fault.

Only… he hadn’t done it on his own. Jungkook had orchestrated it all—manipulated things behind the scenes to tear you away from him.

And you weren’t even mad about it anymore.

Because he’d been right all along.

You didn’t belong to Hoseok. You never did.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh again and leaned in close, his voice low but unmistakably proud.

“We’ve been trying for a baby,” he said loud enough for Hoseok to hear, tilting his head just so. “Finally setting a date for the wedding too.”

You blushed on cue, eyes falling to your lap, but you didn’t pull away when he kissed your cheek—didn’t protest when his arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer.

Hoseok’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but then he nodded stiffly and focused on serving your family before he turned back to the kitchen, defeated.

Good.

Jungkook’s fingers traced idle circles on your hip, slow and smug.

“That’s right, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. Always were”

[horchatakoo]

So excited for the idol reader fic 😌

I’ll try finishing it as soon as possible 😭

[horchatakoo]

You really thought we Won't caught your chat gpt writing?

Okay… you got me there, but that’s not a crime lol.

First and foremost, English is not my first language, so you can assume I’m having a hard time correcting my grammar and improving the flow. Is it bad to make use of chatgpt to help with that? 🤷‍♀️

[horchatakoo]

I’m such a sucker for idol reader x obsessed fan jungkook pairings, that’s why I’m writing it.

Stay tuned 🙂‍↔️

[horchatakoo]

PLAYER 97 | JUNGKOOK ONESHOT

Synopsis: In which Jungkook fucks you in the locker room when you showed up to his game wearing his jersey after a heated argument.

Themes: established relationship, make-up sex, smut, nsfw, cock riding, creampie , big dick jungkook, dom jungkook

You’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone, a visible frown pulling at your face as the memory of last night replays in your head on an endless loop.

Ten missed calls. Seven unread messages. All from Jungkook.

You haven’t opened a single one. You didn’t even have the guts to clear the notifications.

Yana, your friend—and the owner of the apartment you’re currently slouched in—glances over from her spot on the couch, noticing the way your expression keeps twitching like you’re about to either cry or throw your phone.

“You good?” her voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah,” you say too fast, staring at your screen. “It’s just… Jungkook and I fought last night.”

Yana snorts, connecting the dots almost instantly. “Ohhh, is that why you’re here instead of being cuddled up with your boyfriend in your guys’ apartment?”

You groan and toss a pillow at her, face heating. “Stop it, Yana. It’s not funny. He got really mad at me, you know…”

“Well?” she grins. “What happened? You two barely ever fight.”

You hesitate, chewing the inside of your cheek as you reminisce about the events that happened last night.

“…It was about the party.”

“Why are you at that party?! When I told you not to go!” Jungkook’s voice was loud as he slammed the apartment door shut as soon as the two of you stepped inside.

He had dragged you out of Jimin’s frat party without a word, and now he’s pacing, all tense and pissed, barely looking at you.

“Relax, Koo… I was with Jimin,” you say, trying to play it cool as you leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, making you feel a little light-headed.

“You were with Jimin,” he spits, emphasizing Jimin's name like the name alone is enough to make him lose it.

“You know that guy brings nothing but trouble. And a frat party? Seriously? God knows what could’ve happened to you—getting drunk, drugged, or some creep trying something on you while you’re too out of it to even notice.”

He said, looking straight at you, his tone still laced with anger as he paced around the small living room, as if trying to calm himself down, a hand running through his locks in frustration.

And maybe, yeah, you get where he’s coming from. Deep down, you know it’s not just about Jimin. It’s about him being scared of the possible dangers you could’ve encountered in a place like that—filled with alcohol and frat boys.

But your pride is too high to give a damn, and you refuse to acknowledge that your boyfriend is 100% right.

"You're fucking controlling!" you shouted at him in defense, refusing to lose the argument—even though you were already out of things to say.

Knowing there's nothing left to add, you turn around and storm into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind you, leaving Jungkook standing alone in the middle of the living room with no choice but to sleep out there.

Yana stares at you, half-pitying, half-annoyed. “Girl…”

"You know that was kinda your fault, right?" she continued, trying to not side on anyone, since you're her best friend, but misserably failed.

You shoot her a glare. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the right side. And you know damn well Jimin’s a walking red flag in skinny jeans.”

You stay quiet.

That’s honestly true. Jimin is a troublemaker—but he’s still your friend.

You know you were wrong for not listening to Jungkook, even though he had every reason to be concerned about that party. Which is why you planned to say sorry first thing in the morning…

But when you woke up, the apartment was empty.

No Jungkook.

Just a plate of breakfast waiting for you on the counter.

“I know, Yana… but I just don’t know how to make things right between us when everything feels so awkward now,” you admit in defeat, hoping your friend might come up with something better than your own half-baked plan.

“All I can say is: go home and say sorry to him,” she says, simply.

And so you did.

When you got back home, he still wasn’t there, making you sigh unconsciously.

Your eyes wandered around the empty apartment, taking in how quiet and lonely it felt without Jungkook here—no laughter, no teasing, no arms wrapping around you from behind while you cooked. Just… silence.

Maybe waiting for him and making dinner would be nice, you thought, as you started skimming through the kitchen cabinets for anything decent to put together.

That’s when your eyes landed on the small schedule stuck to the side of the fridge.

Right… Jungkook has a championship game today.

And just like that, a bright idea lit up in your mind.

The rink was loud, the energy buzzing with cheers and chants, but Jungkook’s mind was somewhere else.

He hadn’t invited you. He didn’t even expect you to show up after everything that happened last night, thinking that you're still mad at him.

But still, as the game started, his eyes couldn’t help but wander across the bleachers—scanning, searching, hoping.

Just one glance.

Just to be sure.

And right as he was about to look away, to focus back on the game, he saw you.

There.

Sitting alone, tucked among a few scattered fans from his team. And for a second, he wasn’t sure if he was just imagining you.

But then he saw what you were wearing.

His jersey.

The same one he gave you during his first game, the one he practically begged you to wear even though you told him oversized jerseys weren’t really your thing.

You wore it anyway. And now, here you are—wearing it again, in the middle of the crowd, like some silent apology stitched in fabric.

His eyes locked with yours.

You smiled at him. A small, slightly awkward smile—but it was enough to assure him that everything's gonna be okay again

And just like that, something in his chest loosened.

For the first time since last night, he let himself breathe freely—the stress and the thoughts of how he could possibly fix things between the two of you were already out of his mind. Now, he could focus on the game.

Jungkook was on fire.

Gliding across the ice with sharp, effortless precision, he moved like he owned the rink—swift passes, clean shots, total control. Every time the puck touched his stick, the crowd held their breath.

The scoreboard kept climbing, the gap between his team and the opponents growing wider with each passing minute. It wasn’t even close.

By the time the final buzzer echoed through the arena, the place erupted.

They won.

Cheers exploded from every corner of the stands—and yours was the loudest.

“Let’s go, Jungkook!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, hands cupped around your mouth, heart pounding like you were the one who just scored the winning goal.

And even in all the noise, you swore he heard you.

By the time the game ended, the energy in the arena was still buzzing—cheers, laughter, the sound of people flooding out into the night.

You had already planned to meet him in the parking lot, just like before. our legs felt weak from all the jumping and screaming his name, and now that the adrenaline was dying down, all you could think about was seeing him up close again—talking, maybe hugging, maybe—

Buzz.

Your phone lit up.

Koo: Don’t wait in the parking lot. Meet me at the locker room love.

You were a bit confused after receiving the message, wondering why he wanted to meet up there of all places. What if his teammates were still around? What if it’d be awkward?

But your thoughts were cut off when another message came in.

Koo: Don't worry no one's around.

It was as if he read your mind.

Your breath hitched, and your cheeks flushed red at the sudden—very perverted thought that crossed your mind.

You immediately scolded yourself internally for even thinking that way

As you neared the locker room, a few of Jungkook’s teammates passed by, giving you casual nods as they exited, laughter still lingering in the air.

Turns out the team was heading out to celebrate at some restaurant—everyone except Jungkook, who apparently decided to skip.

“Hey, Y/N. Jungkook’s waiting for you back there,” one of them said with a knowing grin.

You barely managed to smile before a few others chimed in—whistles, low chuckles.

“Damn, someone’s in trouble,” one joked, earning a round of snickers.

Your face flushed instantly, the heat crawling up your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You nodded quickly, mumbling a quiet, “Okay,” before speed-walking past them, not even daring to glance back.

When you finally stepped inside, the room was quiet—almost too quiet compared to the usual chaos of his teammates.

Jungkook was already there, freshly showered, hair still damp as he stood by his locker, shirt half-on while he fixed his things.

You took a few slow steps toward him, smiling gently. “Hi,” you greeted, voice soft but hopeful.

And before you could even process what was happening, he turned and smashed his lips against yours.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he muttered between kisses.

It was messy, rushed, needy—your mouths moving fast, tongues tangling in a sloppy, breathless kiss that had your knees weak and your heart racing.

You pulled back just slightly to catch your breath, lips swollen and eyes wide.

“Silly,” you whispered, a little breathless, “we just haven’t talked for a night.”

“Yeah, I know… but still,” he murmured against your lips, then trailed down to your neck.

His mouth latched onto that one spot—the spot—and it made your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out before you could stop it.

He smirked at the sound, knowing exactly what he was doing, fingers already finding the clasp of your bra with practiced ease.

In one motion, he unclipped it and slid his jersey off your frame, leaving your skin burning.

You tried stopping him, hands pressing lightly against his chest. “Jungkook… w-we’re in public… someone could walk in…”

But he just leaned in, lips brushing against your ear, voice low and cocky.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he whispered, “no one’s gonna come.”

Jungkook’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he turned you around to face the lockers, pressing your front against the cool metal.

You barely had time to react before he pushed your skirt up with one hand—and froze for half a second.

“Fuck,” he growled, voice thick with lust. “What a slut you are for me… no panties under this little skirt, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, body trembling under his touch.

A sharp smack landed on your ass, making you gasp—partly from the sting, mostly from the way it sent a jolt straight between your legs.

You whimpered, your palms flattening against the locker, cheek pressed to the surface as you tried to catch your breath.

“Already this wet for me?” Jungkook murmured as he deliberately dragged his fingers in your pussy, rubbing slow circle on your clit.

It made you moan uncontrollably, your voice echoing through the empty locker room, no longer able to hold back any of the sounds spilling from your lips.

Without a word, he slid two fingers deep into your dripping core, the wet sound of each thrust obscene in the quiet space, your body bent over helplessly against the locker.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes locked on the way you clenched around him. “You’re swallowing my fingers—so fucking greedy for me.”

His words only made you wetter—needier—and your hips bucked into his hand without even thinking. The two fingers weren’t enough anymore, not with the way your body craved him.

He slid in a third without warning, and you gasped, the stretch making your knees weak.

“Ahhh… I need—I need your cock, please, Kookie,” you whined, voice shaky and wrecked, eyes fluttering shut.

That confession made him smirk against your neck, lips brushing your skin.

He curled his fingers deep inside you, watching the way you squirmed under his touch, desperate for more.

“Shhh,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your ear. “Gotta prep you first, baby. Can’t just stuff you full yet.”

You whimpered, your hands gripping the locker door like your life depended on it.

“You can ride me later, alright?” he added, voice low and full of heat. “Gonna let you fuck yourself stupid on it after I open you up nice and good.”

With a few more thrusts and a curl of his fingers, you felt your release building fast, your body tensing as you gasped out, “I’m gonna cum—”

But he stopped. Just like that.

You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, frustrated and breathless.

“Not yet,” he said firmly, licking his lips as he looked up at you. “You can only cum on my cock, baby.”

And with that, he moved to lie down on one of the benches, legs spread, cock hard and heavy against his abs. You stood frozen for a second, flustered, heat burning across your cheeks.

But then he looked at you—through you—and reached out.

“Come here, baby. Fuck your greedy cunt onto my cock now.”

Your breath hitched. He looked so good��messy hair, flushed skin, toned chest rising and falling with every breath. And that thick length standing proud, waiting for you.

You walked toward him on shaky legs, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you straddled his hips, knees pressed into the bench as you reached down, guiding him to your entrance.

You both gasped as you sank down on him, inch by inch, your walls fluttering around his thick length.

“God, you missed me that bad, huh?” he chuckled darkly, watching the way your lips parted in a silent moan. “Bet you were thinking about this the second you saw me today.”

Once you were fully sank on his length, he couldn't help but notice how his cock is bulging on your lower belly as reach out to palm the outline of his length, making you moan.

“Look at that,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “you're really shaped to fit my cock huh?”

The pressure made you moan, your thighs tightening around him. You started slow, rolling your hips, adjusting to the stretch—even though fucking was practically a routine for your both, he still felt overwhelming every time.

But soon, slow turned to eager. Desperation took over as you began to bounce on him, each movement slick and loud in the quiet room. Your moans turned lewd, needy, and so loud he had to bite his lip to keep from losing control too soon.

Your chest bounced with every thrust, and he reached up, gripping one of your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching your nipple just to hear that sweet cry fall from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, thrusting up to meet you halfway. “Ride me, baby. Just like that.”

You kept riding him, your pace starting to falter, thighs trembling from the effort. Your moans turned breathy and weak, hips stuttering.

“I—I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, and before you could even finish the sentence, your body gave in, the release crashing through you in waves.

You slumped forward against him, breath ragged—but he wasn’t done.

Strong hands gripped your hips tight, keeping you in place as he began to thrust up into you from below, deep and fast, chasing his own high.

The overstimulation made your eyes roll back, small sobs slipping from your lips as you clung to him, your body twitching from the aftershocks.

“F-Fuck, baby—” he groaned, voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum.”

Your mind snapped back. “Koo, you don’t have a condom,” you whispered, eyes wide, the haze of lust momentarily clearing.

He barely slowed, bucking his hips harder. “It’s fine, baby,” he growled. “Let me fill you up. Gonna make you full of me… give you my fucking kids.”

And just like that, your brain short-circuited again. The thought—his thought—broke whatever resistance you had left. You didn’t or couldn't protest.

With a few more deep, rough thrusts, he let out a low groan, his body tensing as he spilled everything inside you, filling you to the brim.

Both of your hips twitched in response as he gave a final thrust, making sure not a single drop of his cum spilled. You collapsed onto his chest, completely spent, your limbs heavy and trembling, breath uneven.

His cock was still buried inside you, keeping his release exactly where he wanted it—deep in you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your face buried into the crook of his neck, skin flushed and warm. Silence filled the locker room, save for your shared breathing, still coming down from the high.

“Koo…” you whispered, barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand gently stroking your hair, his other arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he held you close, while pressing a soft kiss to your temple before saying; "It's okay princess, you're already forgiven."

[horchatakoo]

Hi love, Like you said, you're not planning to write any more chapters for Beneath Him. So, let's say hypothetically, if you were to write it, how do you think the story would have progressed or ended? Did Y/N leave him or stay with him, raising his child?

well it’s an omegaverse so it’s almost impossible for y/n to leave jk at this point specially that they are already mated.

and yeah, I’d like to imagine them building a family with lots of children! Of course jungkook’s gonna be a loving father, and he does love Y/N very much, it’s just that he’s very controlling😖

[horchatakoo]

Ur fav wtiter?

@peoniesnro - I’m soooo in love with perfect partner, and he/she is actually the reason why I started writing here

@trivia-yandere - bruhhh she’s so good at writing smut and all her work is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻 I want to be as good as her someday 🥲

[horchatakoo]

I came across your blog today. Saw ask, someone needed help with grading colour. I love how explained nicely. When i was new hear i wanted to learn too and asked 5/6 popular writer to help me even dm them but only 3 replied and helped. They were so nice and made me feel safe to ask anything. And the other ones didn’t bother to say a simple no but was always active. That was hurtful. Be always kind to people like this. Have a good day / night.

Aww, I’m sorry you had to experience that here. I totally feel you because I was also shy to ask others for help, thinking they’d be rude. Fortunately for me, they weren’t and were actually happy to help.

No worries at all. I’m always happy to help and answer any questions you have since I want my blog to be a space filled with positivity.

Good night as well, luvs!

[horchatakoo]

Hi, just wanted to let you know that your links on your masterlist are from your old blog. Changing username means you need to update any links that uses it before the change. 🙏 just a little tip, I mean no offense; because I can't have a quick access to your fics from your masterlist.

hi sweets! thanks for informing me, i was totally not aware with that. i already updated the links on my masterlist upon knowing, and doubled check using another account to see if it works properly.

hope you have a good read!

[horchatakoo]

in your masterlist how did you get like that ombre effect that says welcome to my blog 💀 asking for a friend

Hello! I used this site (https://www.stuffbydavid.com/textcolorizer) to get that gradient effect. Just go to the site, type the text you want, and customize the colors. After that, copy the HTML code at the very bottom (not the forum code).

Then, go back to Tumblr and open the post or draft you're working on. At the top, go to Settings and change the text editor from Rich Text to HTML. Once you're in the HTML view, you can paste the HTML code there. After that, you can switch back to Rich Text format to see the result.

[horchatakoo]

PERFECT WIFE | KSJ ONESHOT

Synopsis: Seokjin is on a mission in making you his perfect obedient little wife

Themes: yandere seokjin, manipulation, degradation, humiliation, power imbalance

word count: 1,479

You were at the top of your game, a rising star in the legal world, winning case after case and handling high-profile clients that others could only dream of.

It wasn’t just talent that got you there—it was hard work. Long nights spent studying case files, early mornings meeting clients, and weekends preparing airtight arguments.

And with just a little more effort, a few more wins, and you’d be unstoppable.

But success has its price...

The more you rose to the top, the more people whispered behind your back.

“She wouldn’t be here if not for the boss.”

“Seokjin is the only reason she’s winning.”

They said you only made it because of Kim Seokjin—the CEO of your law firm, your boss, and later, your boyfriend.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

From the moment you joined the firm, Seokjin had his eyes on you. He favored you over others, assigning you high-value cases that should have gone to those who came before you—those with more courtroom experience than a newbie like you.

And people weren’t so dumb as to not notice the special treatment he was giving you.

And so, they grew jealous.

But you knew better.

Yes, Seokjin helped, but you were the one putting in the work. You spent nights preparing, you handled the pressure, and you earned every victory. You refused to let anyone think you were just a product of his influence.

That’s why, when you and Seokjin got together, you made things clear: he wasn’t above you. You weren’t someone he could control. You made your own decisions, no matter how much he offered to help, no matter how disappointed he looked when you didn’t rely on him.

But time is unpredictable...

and it can easily change the course of your life in just a second.

The moment you married him, everything shifted. The confident, ambitious woman who once owned the courtroom became nothing more than a memory.

Perhaps it’s your karma for thinking that marrying Seokjin would be a stepping stone to greater achievements. Perhaps you became greedy—too intoxicated by the fame and influence your work had given you—until your once-calculating and cunning self fell right into Seokjin’s trap.

Your career? Gone. The office you once dominated had been replaced by the suffocating walls of your home.

You never wanted to quit your job. It was your passion, the career you had dreamed of since childhood. But Seokjin had his ways of making you leave.

Just as he built you up, he could just as easily tear you down.

It started with your court files being manipulated, leaving you unprepared and defenseless during trial hearings. Other lawyers laughed at you, mocking your incompetence—as if you had just proven them right, as if you were nothing more than an unqualified lawyer who had only climbed the ranks by linking up with a higher-up.

Then, one by one, your clients began backing out, claiming they were no longer satisfied with your work after the spectacle you had made during your recent hearings.

Of course, like any human being, you were hurt by the words thrown at you. It felt as if all your years of hard work had been reduced to nothing because of a few mistakes. As if no one respected you—or your title—anymore. And that broke you, to the point where you couldn’t even bring yourself to leave your room.

“Honey, perhaps taking a break would be a good thing,” said Seokjin, your ever-so-loving husband. And you listened, thinking that a few weeks off would help clear your mind, that it would give you the chance to refocus and regain your footing.

But when you returned to the firm two weeks later, nothing had changed. In fact, in your mind, things had only gotten worse. There were new interns, new employees, and new cases. The cases you thought you were still handling had been reassigned. It was as if time had moved on without you—and now, you were struggling to keep up.

"You've lost your spark, Y/N."

The words from your client echoed in your mind as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep nowhere in sight.

How did it come to this? Was it fate playing a cruel game with you? Or was it the man sleeping soundly beside you—the one who had been slowly chipping away at you all along?

With every subtle push, every whispered doubt, he wore you down. Until one day, you broke. And willingly, you resigned and gave up your passion.

And now?

The woman who once stood tall in elegant suits, arguing before judges, was now kneeling on the cold floor, scrubbing it clean—naked, except for the apron Seokjin insisted you wear.

You became the very person you feared most—someone beneath your husband, someone who relied on him for everything. The sharp, brilliant mind you once had? Dull. Faded with time.

To outsiders, it might seem tragic, even depressing.

But to Seokjin? This was perfection.

You were exactly what he wanted—a compliant, obedient wife, always ready to serve him.

When you first quit your job at the law firm, you spent your days at home, lost in the emptiness of it all. But as time passed, Seokjin encouraged you to take on household chores. After all, wasn’t that what a housewife was supposed to do?

"But we can just hire maids, Jin. That way, I can find another job."

"Job? What job? Sweetheart, you're not even thinking straight right now. Why stress yourself when you can just enjoy being a housewife? Do some chores—it’ll be good for you."

You hesitated, feeling useless, like you weren’t capable of anything anymore. The thought alone made you ashamed. So you agreed. If you couldn't be a top lawyer, then you would be the best housewife Seokjin could ever have.

You cooked his meals, scrubbed the floors, did the laundry.

But that is still not enough for Seokjin.

One night, Seokjin handed you a neatly wrapped gift, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he placed it in your hands. The weight of the small box felt heavier than it should have, like something inside of you already knew what was coming.

"Go on, sweetheart. Open it," he urged, voice smooth, dripping with warmth.

With shaky fingers, you untied the ribbon, peeling back the delicate wrapping paper to reveal soft fabric. An apron.

You blinked, confused. "An apron?"

Seokjin chuckled, stepping behind you, his hands coming to rest gently on your shoulders. His thumbs traced slow, soothing circles into your skin. "I had it custom-made just for you. Isn't it beautiful?"

You ran your fingers over the fabric. It was high-quality, soft—luxurious, even. Far too elegant for simple housework.

"It is, but... why?"

He let out a soft hum, as if thinking over his words carefully. "Because you deserve to feel beautiful while taking care of our home. While taking care of me." He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You do so much already, and I love that about you. But I think there's something missing."

You swallowed hard, your mind foggy, struggling to find the right words. "Missing?"

He turned you around to face him, his fingers lifting your chin so your dazed eyes met his. "You work so hard to be the perfect wife, don’t you? Cooking for me, cleaning, making sure I come home to the perfect little house. But I know it tires you out." His voice softened, comforting, like he was saying something that should have been obvious.

"Clothes are restrictive, aren't they? Uncomfortable. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just let them go?"

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You weren’t sure what to say, so he continued speaking, his voice dipping into something almost hypnotic.

"Why don’t you try it? You’d look so sexy in this," Seokjin murmured, his fingers already working on the buttons of your blouse from behind before you could even protest.

A startled breath left you, but you didn’t stop him. You never did.

In mere seconds, you were undressed, stripped of everything but the delicate apron draped over your front. The fabric barely covered your boobs, the ties hugging your waist, while you're bare at the back. Heat rushed to your face. You felt seen—exposed, despite the countless times he had already seen you bare. But this felt different. This wasn’t intimacy. This was humiliation.

Your hands twitched, instinctively wanting to cover yourself, but Seokjin caught them, holding them in place as his lips brushed against your temple.

"Don't be shy," he soothed, his voice dripping with amusement. "You look perfect. Just like this." "Let's document this as your first day of being my perfect, obedient wife, yeah?" Seokjin murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, as he opened his phone's camera "Smile for me Y/N"

[horchatakoo]

Will there be a part 3 of Beneath Him?

No, Part 2 is the last one since I’m itching to write a new Jungkook one-shot that I’ve had in mind since yesterday. 😭

I hope you look forward to it! (I promise it’ll be good—especially if you’re into yandere stuff.)

[horchatakoo]

BENEATH HIM | JUNGKOOK FF PT.2

description: being with jungkook as his mate has been…fun, yet confusing?

warnings: yandere jungkook, smut, big d!ck jungkook, object insertion, possessiveness, control freak jungkook, dom jungkook, submissive reader, bimbo reader, corruption kink

Word count: 3.5k

The forest was eerily quiet, save for the rustling leaves and the ragged breaths you couldn’t control. Heat coiled deep in your core, leaving your legs weak, your skin unbearably sensitive. The mark Jungkook had left on your neck pulsed, sending another sharp wave of need through your veins, and a helpless whimper escaped your lips as you pressed closer to him, desperate for relief.

Jungkook was everywhere—his warmth, his scent, his sheer presence drowning out everything else. He had you caged beneath him, his clothes already discarded on the forest floor as he hovered over you, bare chest rising and falling with restrained breaths, muscles flexing as he fought to keep himself in check. You could feel the strain in him, the way his body trembled with the primal urge to take, to claim. But he didn’t.

Instead, he kissed you—slow and deep, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before slipping inside. You followed his lead, your inexperience evident in the way you responded, needy and unsure. But Jungkook took his time, guiding you through it, savoring the moment.

Still, the fire inside you burned too hot, too intense to ignore. A desperate whimper left your lips, and before you could stop yourself, your hips bucked against him—grinding against his already hardened crotch. The friction sent a shudder through you, and Jungkook groaned, his hands gripping your waist to still you.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with heat, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes roamed over your flushed face, taking in how desperate you were for him.

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shoulders. “Please, Jungkook…” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

His grip tightened. “Please, what, baby?” He tilted his head, watching you squirm beneath him, his tongue flicking over his lips. “Say it properly.”

Your breath hitched, the humiliation of needing him this badly making your skin burn hotter. But when you stayed silent, Jungkook clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Tsk.” His fingers trailed down your thigh, dangerously slow. “You want something from me, but you’re being shy?” His palm pressed against your soaked panties, and you gasped, back arching at the pressure.

“This little pussy isn’t shy at all, though,” Jungkook murmured, his voice thick with amusement as his hand slid between your thighs. His fingers dipped into your soaked folds, teasing you, dragging up and down, never quite pushing inside. Your breath hitched when he found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, his touch light—too light.

His dark eyes never left your face, watching your every reaction, drinking in the way your body trembled beneath him. His control was maddening, and he knew it.

“Look at you,” he mused, smirking as your hips instinctively bucked into his hand, chasing more friction. “So sensitive… so desperate. Are you even thinking, or are you just running on pure need now, baby?”

Your face burned with embarrassment, but there was no hiding the way your body responded. Your legs spread wider, thighs quivering as a whimper escaped your lips.

That reaction made Jungkook groan. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, circling faster, and your moan came out loud—raw, shameless.

“There she is,” he purred, satisfied. “That’s my good girl.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he dragged his fingers through your folds again, gathering your slick before holding them up between you. The dim moonlight glistened against his coated fingers, strands of your arousal glistening between them.

“All this…” He tilted his head, bringing his fingers closer to your lips. “Just for me?”

Your breath hitched as the heady scent of your own arousal filled the space between you. Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he didn’t let up, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your aching clit.

“Answer me, baby,” he warned, voice dropping lower, rougher.

You swallowed, your voice shaky as you nodded. “Only for you, Jungkook.”

Something in him snapped.

Without much thought, he pushed his middle finger inside you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, your walls clenching around the unfamiliar stretch. It was a strange sensation—a mix of discomfort and something dangerously addictive. This was your first time having anything inside you, and with how long and thick his fingers were, it should have been overwhelming.

But you were an omega. Your body knew exactly what to do.

The initial tightness eased almost too quickly, your walls adjusting, welcoming the intrusion with a slickness that had Jungkook groaning under his breath. He didn’t waste time, thrusting his finger in and out at a steadily increasing pace, watching your expression shift from tension to pure pleasure.

"That’s it, baby," he murmured, voice husky. "Let yourself open up for me."

One finger became two, the stretch deeper, fuller—your wetness coating his digits as he scissored them inside you, loosening you up, preparing you. By the time he added a third, your back arched, nails digging into his shoulders as he pumped them in and out, curling just right to have your breath hitching. The lewd, wet sounds filled the quiet forest, your body completely giving in to the pleasure he was dragging out of you.

But it still wasn’t enough.

You were a greedy little thing—his greedy little whore.

It didn’t take long before you were mumbling, your voice slurred with need, pleading for more. “Jungkook… more… please, I—”

His eyes darkened, his cock twitching against your thigh at the way you begged so prettily, so desperately.

"More?" he repeated, tilting his head, smirking as he curled his fingers inside you, dragging against that sweet spot that had your legs shaking. "You’re already so full, baby. You can barely handle my fingers."

But the way your hips rolled against his hand told him otherwise.

"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, the deep sound making your core clench. "You beg so sweetly, how can I refuse?"

His fingers pulled out, leaving you empty—before he finally gave you exactly what you were desperate for.

Jungkook gave his length a few slow pumps, groaning as beads of pre-cum dripped onto your lower belly, smearing against your flushed skin. The sight of you beneath him, panting, already stretched open from his fingers, had his patience hanging by a thread.

Still, he leaned in, kissing your parted lips as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Breathe for me, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, voice thick with restraint. “Relax… Let me in.”

And then he pushed in—slow, deliberate.

If you thought his fingers were enough, his cock proved you wrong in an instant. The sheer size of him had you gasping, legs trembling as you clung to his shoulders. He was big, thick enough to make you feel stretched beyond your limit, and it hurt—a sharp, burning ache as your walls struggled to accommodate him.

A scream tore from your throat, nails digging into his back as Jungkook groaned, his jaw clenching at the way your tightness squeezed around him.

“Fuck—” His breath hitched, sweat forming at his temples. “So tight, baby.”

He paused, only halfway inside, his body tense with restraint. But the way you trembled beneath him, your slick dripping down his length, had him pressing his forehead against yours, whispering, “Shh… baby, you’re taking me so well. Just bear with it, alright?”

His lips trailed down your jaw, his free hand smoothing over your sweat-dampened hair, soothing you even as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. He kissed you—slow and deep—distracting you, swallowing your whimpers as he finally seated himself fully inside you.

A shudder wracked through his body.

"Fuck," he groaned, voice strained, as he saw how his cock is bulging in your lower belly. "So fucking perfect. Made just for me."

He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, his fingers rubbing soft circles into your hips. His control was fraying—your tight heat wrapped around him too perfectly, too intoxicating.

But he knew.

Knew that soon, the pain would melt into pleasure.

Knew that once you got used to him… you’d never want anything else.

Jungkook’s thrusts were slow, deliberate—each one sinking deep, pressing against the very core of you. He could go faster, rougher, but tonight wasn’t about that.

Not yet.

He wanted to savor this moment.

He could have you anytime, anywhere, anyway he wanted in the future, but this? This was the first time he was claiming you. And he wanted you to feel every inch of it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice heavy with restraint. “You feel so good… so tight around me.”

Your moans mixed with his, loud and unabashed, the pleasure building unbearably with every deep, slow thrust. His hands roamed your body—gripping your hips, sliding up to cup your breasts, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers as his pace remained achingly controlled.

He wanted you to fall apart for him.

And you did.

“Ahh—Jungkook, I’m—” you gasped, voice breaking, your body trembling beneath him. “I’m about to cum.”

His dark eyes locked onto yours, his smirk lazy, full of pure possession.

“Already?” he murmured, snapping his hips just a little harder, grinding deep into that sweet spot inside you. “So fucking needy for me.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles to push you over the edge.

“Go on, baby,” he whispered against your lips, breath hot, teasing. “Cum for me—show me who you belong to.”

And with that, you came—your walls clamping down around him, milking his cock as waves of pleasure crashed over you. A broken moan tore from your lips, your body trembling beneath him as you creamed his length, slick coating his cock as he continued thrusting through your high.

“Fuck—” Jungkook hissed, feeling you squeeze him so tight, so perfect. His rhythm faltered, his movements growing desperate, erratic.

He wasn’t far behind.

A few more deep thrusts, and then he groaned, burying himself to the hilt as his release hit him hard. His cock throbbed inside you, shooting his hot seed deep into your womb, filling you up until you felt the warmth spread through your core.

Jungkook stayed inside you for a moment, catching his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His fingers lazily traced circles over your waist, grounding himself in the feeling of your body—marked, stretched, and claimed by him.

After a moment, he finally pulled out, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum slowly trickled out of your spent hole.

He smirked, running a possessive hand over your stomach before pulling you against him.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “All full of me.”

He laid beside you, arms wrapped around your body, keeping you caged against his chest as he caught his breath.

Jungkook lazily reached for his coat, which lay discarded among the fallen leaves, and draped it over your naked, spent bodies. The night air was cool against your sweat-slicked skin, but wrapped in his warmth, you barely noticed.

He glanced up at the sky—pitch black, the stars scattered like distant embers. It was already late.

His gaze shifted back to you, taking in the way your lashes fluttered, your breathing soft and steady. You looked exhausted, satisfied—completely ruined by him. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Jungkook could have taken you home. Could have woken you up, carried you back, but no.

Not yet.

Instead, he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin as his arms tightened around you. His scent wrapped around you like a second skin, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your cheek.

"You’ll rest here for a while," he murmured, fingers lazily tracing up and down your spine. "I’ll wake you when the first light hits."

For now, he was content.

Because you were in his arms.

Exactly where you belonged.

The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of early birds outside. You and Jungkook sat on the couch, his coat still draped over your shoulders, the fabric swallowing your frame. Your dress was a little crumpled, stained with dried leaves, your lips swollen and bruised from his kisses. And, of course, the mark on your neck burned hot under your mother’s wide-eyed stare.

She had opened the door barely a minute ago—**half-awake, wrapped in her robe—**only to freeze in place.

Because there you were. Freshly mated.

And sitting beside you, completely at ease, was Jeon Jungkook.

The pureblood alpha.

The literal son of the pack leader.

Your mother’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Her gaze darted between you and Jungkook, her face a mix of shock, and disbelief

“Oh my Moon Goddess.” She finally breathed, one hand clutching her chest as if she might pass out.

Jungkook, ever composed, rested an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers lazily playing with a strand of your hair. He didn’t even blink at your mother’s reaction—if anything, he looked amused.

Your mother, however, was not okay.

Because it wasn’t just the hickeys blooming along your throat or the scent of Jungkook completely covering yours—a clear claim.

It was him.

Him.

The pack leader’s heir. The most powerful alpha. The one every omega in the pack dreamed of… and yet, here he was, lounging in her living room, looking like he owned the place.

And he was with you.

She gasped, eyes lighting up in pure fangirl mode. “Oh my goddess—this—this—” She waved a frantic hand in your direction. “You—Jungkook—YOU—”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Mom, please—”

But she wasn’t listening.

Instead, she was grinning, blushing, literally giggling like a teenager.

Thankfully your father interjects, being calm, rational, the complete opposite of your mom.

He sat beside her, rubbing her back as she tried to regulate her breathing. “Breathe, honey.”

Your mom exhaled sharply, glaring at him. “How can you be so calm?! Our daughter came home mated!”

Your father only sighed, giving Jungkook a knowing look. “I assume you’re here for a reason, son.”

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gaze steady. His arm was still casually draped around you, keeping you close, grounded.

“I am.” His voice was deep, unwavering. Alpha-like.

Your mother, finally calming down, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And that reason is?”

Jungkook’s thumb brushed over your mark possessively, making you shiver.

“I’m here to make it official.”

Silence.

Your brows furrowed, confused. “Make what official?”

Jungkook turned to you, expression unreadable. “That you’re mine.”

Your mother gasped dramatically. “Jungkook—”

But he wasn’t finished.

“And,” he continued, looking straight at your parents, “I plan to have her live with me.”

Silence.

Your jaw dropped.

Your mother choked on her own breath.

Your father simply raised a brow, as if carefully considering it.

“You what?!” you blurted out, turning to him in shock. “Jungkook, you didn’t—”

“You’re my mate,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only right for you to live with me, I’d be a dumb alpha if I’d let my mate live in a different house without me. You belong with me, Eclipse”

You stayed silent after hearing that, Jungkook was right, his decision does make sense, but he should have at least told you beforehand…

Your mother threw her hands up. “Oh my Goddess—this is too soon! She’s barely—”

Your father cut her off. “You have my blessing.”

Your father exhaled, level-headed as always. “Jungkook is right. Now that you’re mated, you have a life and obligations beyond just being our child. He’s responsible for your welfare now.”

You stiffened.

Jungkook didn’t even blink. He knew this.

To be fair, he didn’t need to ask for your parents’ permission—not when you were already his. But he respected them enough to do it anyway.

Your mother, who had been on the verge of protesting again, fell silent. The reality of it all finally sinking in.

Because this was how it worked. This was how it had always worked.

With a deep sigh, she rubbed her temples before muttering, “Well, I guess I should pack your clothes now.”

Before you could even react, Jungkook spoke for you.

“Thanks, that would be very much appreciated.” His voice was smooth, firm—final. “We’ll leave at 8.”

Then, as if to soften the blow, he added, “You’re free to visit her at our house, of course.”

Your mother only nodded, still processing everything.

But you?

You were still too stunned to speak.

Because Jungkook had decided everything already.

Living with Jungkook in the past weeks has been… fun.

And confusing.

It’s fun because your life is now comfortable, wealthy, effortless. Maids cater to your every need, gifts appear in your room without reason, and Jungkook—your once merciless bully—now worships the ground you walk on.

But…

It’s confusing because for every sweet moment, there’s an equal, if not greater, moment of possessiveness, jealousy, and control.

Jungkook makes every decision for you.

What you wear. Who you talk to. How you spend your time.

You learned that the hard way when you once stepped outside the estate without telling him.

The moment you returned, his grip on your wrist was bruising, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought his teeth would break.

“Where. The fuck. Were you?” His voice was eerily calm, but his dark eyes burned with rage.

You swallowed. “I-I just went to the garden—”

“Without telling me?” He yanked you flush against his chest, his scent smothering your senses. “What if someone took you? What if another alpha even looked at you?”

Your breath hitched. “Jungkook, that’s—”

His hand wrapped around your throat—not tight, just enough for you to feel it.

“You belong to me, little omega.” His thumb stroked your pulse, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr. “I own you. Your body, your time, your fucking breath—all of it is mine.”

You whimpered as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“I…” You hesitated, feeling his fingers tighten slightly in warning.

“I belong to you.”

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his lips.

“Good girl. Now go upstairs before i decide to punish you”

Other times, his control was more… subtle.

Like how he always picked your clothes for you.

One evening, you reached for a soft sundress, only for him to snatch it away.

“No.” His voice was firm. “Wear this instead.”

He held up a short silk slip. One that clung to every curve and was dangerously sheer.

Your cheeks flamed. “But—”

“I didn’t ask, baby.” He brushed a thumb over your bottom lip. “You want to make me happy, don’t you?”

You hesitated but eventually nodded.

“Then wear it,” he whispered. “Like a good little mate.”

And of course, in bed, there was never a question of who was in control.

He introduced you to things you never knew existed. Positions that left your legs shaking. Toys he loves keeping in your holes. There was never a day he hadn’t touch or fill you up. Acts that once shocked you, but now?

You craved them.

At first, you thought this wasn’t normal.

That there was something wrong.

But when you confided in your mother-in-law, she only chuckled at your innocence.

“That’s how alphas are,” she said, sipping her tea. “Especially purebloods.”

She explained it so simply, so casually, as if it were a fact of life.

“As an omega, your duty is to please and serve your mate.”

Her eyes gleamed with something knowing.

“Especially you,” she added, “the mate of the pack’s heir.”

She spoke of Jungkook’s expectations. Of how the entire pack now looks at you—waiting, anticipating.

“Of course, he expects you to carry his children.”

The words settled deep in your stomach.

“The pack expects you to bear many.”

And just like that, your confusion faded.

Because now, you understand your purpose.

The days that followed… you never questioned him again.

Why would you?

Jungkook knew what was best for you.

He took care of everything. Your clothes, your meals, your comfort—spoiling you endlessly.

Anything you asked for, he gave. Dresses, jewelry, any food you craved.

And in return?

You gave him obedience.

You stayed inside, just as he wanted.

You met his needs. Satisfied his every desire.

Because it was only right.

“Raise your legs, princess.”

Jungkook’s voice was deep, commanding, unquestionable.

The car was parked in the school’s lot, students walking nearby—completely unaware of what was happening inside.

Smiling, you obeyed without hesitation.

Your skirt lifted, your legs spreading wide open for him.

No panties.

Just bare, glistening flesh.

And at the center, his favorite sight—

Your tight little hole, plugged and dripping.

The remnants of his seed still warm inside you from earlier, after he’d ruined you again and again before bringing you here.

Jungkook smirked.

He reached into his bag, rummaging for something.

You waited eagerly, biting your lip.

Finally, he pulled out a small, pink, oblong-shaped object.

Your stomach fluttered. You already knew what it was.

Buzz.

The second he pressed a button on his phone, it came to life, vibrating.

And without another word, he pushed it deep inside you.

Your body jolted at the sudden sensation, but you only smiled sweetly.

“Thank you, Ggukie.”

Carefully, you adjusted your skirt, hiding your little secret.

Jungkook’s dark eyes burned as he admired you, his perfect, obedient omega.

This was your new normal.

And Jungkook intended to keep it that way forever.

@ottergirl @calumspinkhair @bookstoread199

[horchatakoo]

Omg Beneath Him was so good!!! Will there be a Pt 2??

yes there is, sweetheart. if you want to be updated you can request to be part of the taglist or just follow me 🥰

[horchatakoo]

BENEATH HIM | JUNGKOOK FF

Description: As an eclipse omega at the bottom of the hierarchy, you find yourself entangled with a pure-blood alpha.

Themes: yandere bully jungkook, pure blood alpha jungkook, omega reader, obsession.

Part 2

In this world, a strict hierarchy exists—an unshakable order where strength determines worth. At the top stand the Alphas, the unrivaled leaders of the pack, with Pure Blood Alphas reigning as the rarest and most powerful of them all.

Beneath them are the Betas, the steady backbone of society, neither dominant nor submissive but essential in maintaining balance.

And at the very bottom lie the Omegas, submissive by nature, their purpose bound to serving their mates.

But there is one rank even lower—one so rare and reviled that even Omegas look down upon them.

The Eclipse Omegas.

Born under a solar eclipse, they are weaker than their ordinary counterparts. Their bodies are fragile, their pain tolerance minimal, and worst of all, their pheromones are faint—almost nonexistent. Unlike normal Omegas, whose scents draw Alphas in instinctively, Eclipse Omegas are undesirable, often ignored, overlooked, or outright ridiculed.

Thankfully, births of Eclipse Omegas are rare.

But unfortunately for you, you happen to be one of them…

Life as an Eclipse Omega is anything but easy. Discrimination follows you like a shadow, relentless and inescapable. Even the other Omegas, the ones who should be your allies, look down on you with contempt—as if your mere existence is an embarrassment to their kind.

School is a daily struggle, each day more unbearable than the last. There are mornings when you don’t even want to get out of bed, when the thought of facing another day filled with whispers, glares, and quiet humiliation makes your stomach twist. If not for your ever-loving parents, who refuse to let you give up, you might have walked away from it all.

To them, being an Eclipse Omega is already a disadvantage—but being uneducated would be even worse. And they refuse to let that happen.

You keep your head down as you walk through the crowded school hallway, clutching your books tightly to your chest. The weight of the stares pressing against you is suffocating, but you’ve learned to endure it.

Ignore them. Keep walking. Don’t react.

But it never works.

A sudden force slams against your shoulder, sending you stumbling forward. Laughter erupts behind you.

"Oops, didn’t see you there," a sickly sweet voice sneers.

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is—Mina, the most sought-after Omega on campus. With soft golden curls and a scent so intoxicating that Alphas instinctively turn their heads, she embodies everything an Omega is meant to be.

Desirable. Delicate. Wanted.

Everything you are not—and never will be.

Where Mina is radiant, you are plain. Where she is delicate, you are weak—so much so that you might as well be human with how faint your scent is. You are an anomaly, a mistake in the natural order.

And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, there’s one more thing that sets you apart.

You’re already twenty, yet you’ve never had your first heat.

“Forget it Mina, talking to a defective is not worth it” one of Mina’s friends said, making her group, as well as the others who witnessed it laugh at you.

This is already a common interaction you’ve had with every student here, yet you’ve never gotten used to it.

"Pathetic," Mina scoffs. Then, she opened your bags and made it upside down, making all of your belongings scattered across the floor before she left with her group.

The hallway erupts with more laughter

Your heart clenches, shame burning at your skin as you drop to your knees to gather your things. No one helps. No one ever does.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to not cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

After the humiliating encounter in the hallway, you barely made it to your first class—Biology—just in time. Heart pounding, you slipped through the door just as the teacher started calling attendance.

"Min Y/N?"

"Present!" you blurted out, raising your hand quickly to make sure she noticed before rushing to your seat.

Relief barely settled in your chest before it was ripped away the moment you sat down.

A cold, sticky sensation spread across your thighs.

Your breath hitched as realization dawned. Hesitantly, you lifted yourself slightly and looked down—your skirt was covered in slime.

Laughter erupted behind you.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind it.

But you did anyway.

And there he was—Jeon Jungkook.

A Pure Blood Alpha. The son of the pack leader. The worst person you could possibly cross.

He leaned back in his chair, arms lazily crossed over his broad chest, an infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

"What?" he taunted, tilting his head mockingly. "You gonna run to the teacher? Go ahead. See what happens."

The challenge in his voice sent a chill down your spine. You couldn’t fight back. You couldn’t even report him—everyone knew that. Not even the teacher would dare stand against him.

Because messing with Jungkook was no different than signing your own death sentence.

Overwhelmed by everything that had happened—from the hallway to now—a single tear slipped down your cheek before you hurriedly wiped it away.

Jungkook’s grin only widened, satisfaction gleaming in his dark eyes. Making you cry at the start of the week? Perfect.

You scanned the room, desperately looking for an empty seat. There were none.

Not that it mattered. Even if there was a vacant spot, no one would let you sit with them anyway.

For a fleeting moment, you considered excusing yourself—going to the bathroom to wipe off the disgusting slime clinging to your skirt. But you knew better.

Your teacher was just like them.

She was strict—especially with you. If you asked to leave, she’d only scold you for “causing a scene” or “disrupting the lesson.” So, you did the only thing you could.

You stayed silent.

Turning your gaze forward, you clenched your fists and swallowed back the lump in your throat, your silent sobs barely contained as the cold slime seeped into your skin.

Behind you, Jungkook leaned forward, voice dripping with mockery.

"That’s right. Stay silent, you pathetic lowlife."

Then—a sharp jolt.

Jungkook kicked the back of your chair. Not hard enough to draw attention, just enough to make you jolt in place. Enough to remind you of exactly where you stand.

Laughter erupted behind you.

With a smirk, Jungkook turned to Taehyung, raising his hand for a victorious high five.

And just like that, your misery became nothing more than entertainment.

You could say Jungkook was the worst of all your bullies.

There wasn’t a single day he missed the chance to humiliate you.

Sometimes, it was just cruel words—sharp, biting insults meant to remind you of how unwanted you were. Other times, it was much worse.

He’d dump your lunch on your clothes, leaving you to sit through the rest of the day smelling like food. He’d mess with your schoolwork, ensuring the teacher found a reason to scold you. And when he was feeling particularly cruel?

He’d steal your money.

Not because he needed it—he didn’t.

Jungkook was already filthy rich, his family’s wealth ensuring he never lacked anything. But taking from you? Watching you struggle through the day without food, knowing you had no one to turn to?

That was what made it fun for him.

And if that wasn’t enough, he and Taehyung made sure your social life was just as miserable.

They spread rumors—lies—telling everyone that you secretly hated Mina, that you were jealous of her.

The result?

Mina was furious.

And the other omegas? They already looked down on you—now, they had an excuse to hate and beat you even more.

To them, you weren’t just weak. You were pathetic. A joke.

And for Jungkook, making your life miserable has become a hobby.

"I'm home!" you called out the moment you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. At least here, you could finally find peace.

Your mom appeared from the kitchen, holding a steaming pot before setting it on the dining table.

"Oh, honey! I'm glad you're home," she greeted with a warm smile as you walked toward her.

But her eyes quickly landed on the damp patch on your skirt.

"What happened to your skirt?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

You tensed. Of course, she noticed.

"Uh… nothing, Mom. I slipped on a wet floor," you lied, grateful that you'd managed to scrub off the sticky slime after Biology class—though it left an embarrassing damp spot behind.

"Silly! You need to be more careful," she chided playfully.

"Yeah, I will, Mom," you muttered before heading up the stairs, eager to lock yourself away in your room.

But just as you reached the first step, her next words froze you in place.

"Oh, by the way," she started, "a friend of yours—Mina, I think?—came by earlier. You didn’t tell me you had prom this Friday!"

Your stomach dropped.

The prom.

Your teacher had announced it earlier, but you’d barely paid attention—already deciding you wouldn't go.

"I'm so happy you're making friends now, sweetheart!" she gushed.

If only she knew.

Mina wasn’t a friend. She was a nightmare.

But telling your mom the truth would only make her worry even more.

"She’s not a friend, Mom," you mumbled. "She’s just… a classmate."

Your mom hummed in understanding before beaming at you.

"Well, either way, I’ll make sure you look fantastic for prom!"

You forced a small smile, but your thoughts were racing.

“Great. Now I have to go to a party I never wanted to attend.”

And knowing Mina? She wasn’t inviting you for no reason.

They were planning something.

And whatever it was… it wouldn’t be good.

Tuesday came faster than you expected… and you knew it by the annoying blare of your alarm clock.

The bright red numbers on the screen flashed: 8:30 AM.

Your heart dropped.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, panic immediately setting in.

Your alarm was supposed to go off thirty minutes ago.

Without wasting another second, you practically threw yourself out of bed, rushing straight into the bathroom. No time to think.

You flicked the shower on, shivering as the cold water hit your skin, but you didn’t have the luxury to wait for it to warm up. You scrubbed yourself down hastily—shampoo barely rinsed out, soap barely lathered—before hopping out and wrapping a towel around your body.

Dashing back into your room, you yanked open your closet, grabbing the first uniform you could find. It was slightly wrinkled, but you didn’t have time to care.

You struggled to button up your blouse with trembling fingers, your heart pounding against your ribs. You slipped on your skirt, tugged on your socks, and shoved your feet into your shoes.

You didn’t have the time to blow-dry your hair as you bolted out of your bedroom, nearly slipping on the polished floor in your haste.

Your mom looked up from the kitchen, a spatula in hand, while your dad sat at the dining table, casually sipping his usual coffee.

“Breakfast is ready, sweetheart! Come eat before you go—”

“I’ll just buy something at the cafeteria, Mom! Bye, Dad!” you shouted over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

Your mom barely had time to respond before you were gone.

“Honey, don’t you think our daughter is acting a bit… off today?”

“Hmm? She’s just going to be late for school,” your dad replies, nonchalant over his morning coffee.

“I don’t know… something just feels off. I guess it’s just my mother instincts,” your mom murmurs, worry lacing her tone.

And hell your mom was right!

Later that day, you step into the school hallway, your mind still clouded from the morning’s rush. That’s when it hits you—a sudden wave of heat crawling over your skin, your head throbbing as if caught in a fever. A shiver runs down your spine, yet your body only feels hotter, heavier.

You pause, glancing around in confusion, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar sensation. Maybe it’s just exhaustion, you reason. Maybe the air is stuffy. But the hallway is nearly empty, most students already in class. There’s no crowd, no heat lingering from too many bodies packed together—just you and this unbearable warmth seeping into your bones.

Shaking it off, you force your legs to move forward, determined to push through whatever this is. But just as you round a corner, your stomach sinks.

Jungkook.

He’s walking straight toward you, his presence dominating the space with effortless arrogance. Instinct takes over before logic can, and you immediately turn down the nearest aisle, hoping to slip past unnoticed. You don’t have the strength to deal with him today—not with your body betraying you like this.

But luck has never been on your side.

Jungkook’s sharp eyes catch you in an instant, and his lips curl into a knowing smirk. His steps slow, his amusement growing. He’s seen you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

After all, making your life miserable is his favorite pastime.

You keep your head down, willing yourself to disappear as you quicken your pace, but it’s useless.

A firm hand grips your wrist, yanking you back with just enough force to make you stumble. Before you can react, you find yourself pinned against the cold wall of the empty hallway, Jungkook towering over you with that ever-present smugness in his dark eyes.

“Running away from me now, Eclipse?” His voice drips with amusement, the nickname he gave you laced with condescension. “Didn’t even give me a chance to have my fun today.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady, but the dizziness crashes into you all at once. The warmth inside you intensifies, a strange pulsing heat spreading through your limbs, making your breathing turn shallow and uneven.

Jungkook’s smirk falters for a split second as he takes in your appearance—your pupils blown wide, with your eyes having that golden glow, chest rising and falling far too quickly, hands trembling at your sides.

Instinctively, he leans in slightly, inhaling.

And that’s when it happens.

His entire body stiffens.

Jungkook's entire body tenses, his grip unconsciously tightening on your arms as the realization crashes over him like a tidal wave.

No.

No, this can’t be happening.

His mate? You?

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to shake off the pull, but the golden glow in your eyes only confirms what his instincts are already screaming at him. His mate. The one person he’s supposed to cherish, protect—not torment.

And yet, here you are, trembling in front of him, vulnerable, struggling to even stand as your first heat crashes down on you like a storm.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, not out of anger, but something else—something he doesn’t want to name.

He watches as you bite your lip, your breathing uneven, your scent making his own body react in ways he never expected. His fingers twitch again, fighting the urge to do something stupid.

You look up at him, dazed and confused, searching his face for answers, for anything that will make sense of the unbearable heat consuming you.

But all Jungkook can think about is the way he’s spent every day making your life hell.

And now the universe has tied you to him?

He forces himself to step back, releasing you like you just burned him, even though every fiber of his being screams at him to hold on.

“Shit,” he breathes out, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t happening.”

But it is.

And the worst part?

You don’t even realize it yet.

"I... i can't breath" you muttered to him before your vision turned to black as you fainted.

his arms.

“Shit—”

Instinct kicks in before logic can. His arms move on their own, catching you before you hit the cold floor. Your scent—his mate’s scent—surrounds him, messing with his head, making it harder to think. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he looks down at you, unconscious, your face flushed, lips parted as you struggle to breathe even in your unconscious state.

“Damn it,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. The moment your body pressed against his, a low growl rumbled in his chest, the bond already working its way into his instincts, even though he hasn’t marked you yet.

He swallows hard, pushing down the sudden wave of possessiveness that creeps up his spine.

He needs to get you out of here—now.

The last thing he needs is some other Alpha catching a whiff of your scent.

A soft hum of an air conditioner fills the silence as you stir awake, your body feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Your eyelids flutter open, adjusting to the dimly lit room. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, and the sterile white walls make it clear—you’re in some kind of medical office.

Before you can even sit up or ask where you are, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

“You passed out.”

Jungkook’s tone is flat, emotionless, as if he’s simply stating a fact. He’s standing near the wall, arms crossed, his usual cocky expression nowhere to be seen.

“You had a sudden drop in blood pressure, which caused you to faint,” the doctor explains calmly. “It’s nothing too serious, but your body is undergoing some changes, which is why you felt weak. I’ve prescribed you some medication to help regulate it.”

The doctors’s voice is steady, professional—but something about it feels… off. Like he’s withholding something. Like he’s deliberately choosing his words.

You don’t think too hard about it, too drained to question anything as he hands you a small white prescription bag. You glance at it, assuming it’s for something like a cold or exhaustion.

What you don’t know is that it’s all a lie.

Jungkook made sure of it.

The so-called "medication" in your hands isn't for blood pressure or general weakness—it’s a suppressant. Because your symptoms weren’t just random. You weren’t just lightheaded or exhausted.

You were going into heat.

And Jungkook knew. The moment your scent wrapped around him like a vice, the moment his body reacted in ways he refused to acknowledge—he knew exactly what was happening.

And he couldn’t let you find out.

Not now.

Not when the reality of what you were to him—the truth he wasn’t ready to face—would change everything.

You, oblivious to all of this, sigh softly.

“I… Can I go home now?” you ask hesitantly, still feeling slightly out of it.

The doctor nods. “Yes, but make sure to take those meds as instructed and get plenty of rest.”

You slowly slide off the examination table, still feeling a little unsteady on your feet. Just as you reach for your bag, Jungkook speaks again.

“I’ll drive you.”

His voice is cold, detached, like he’s doing this out of obligation rather than concern.

You freeze, glancing at him. His expression remains unreadable, his jaw clenched, as if he’s barely tolerating this situation.

Something about his demeanor feels… different. Not like the usual arrogant Jungkook who lived to make your life miserable. But still, you hesitate.

“I can take the bus,” you mutter, not wanting to owe him anything.

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change. “I wasn’t asking.”

There’s an edge to his tone, not quite threatening, but firm enough that you know arguing is useless.

With a sigh, you give in.

Maybe it’s better this way. The sooner you get home, the sooner you can pretend none of this ever happened.

The car ride is painfully silent. The only sound between you and Jungkook is the hum of the engine and the occasional turn signal clicking. You keep your gaze locked outside the window, watching the familiar streets pass by, trying to focus on anything but the suffocating presence beside you.

When the car finally pulls up in front of your house, you swallow down your hesitation and glance at him. Your fingers tighten around the prescription bag in your lap.

“…Thanks,” you murmur, the word feeling foreign when directed at him.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you. He simply hums in response, a low, almost dismissive sound, before adding, “Take care.”

The words are spoken casually, but something about them catches you off guard. Maybe it’s because you never expected to hear them from him. Maybe it’s because his voice, even in its usual indifferent tone, carries a hint of something unfamiliar.

Either way, you feel warmth crawl up your neck, and to your absolute horror, you realize you’re blushing.

You clear your throat, quickly undoing your seatbelt before pushing the door open. Without another glance back, you step out, clutching the prescription bag tightly as you walk up to your house.

The moment you step inside, the familiar scent of home washes over you, comforting in its normalcy. You slip off your shoes and call out,

“I’m home!”

Your mom peeks out from the kitchen, a warm smile on her face. “Oh, sweetheart! You’re home early.”

Your dad, sitting on the couch with his newspaper, glances up. “Rough day?”

You sigh, nodding. “Yeah, I just wanna rest.”

Your mom frowns slightly but nods in understanding. “Alright, go ahead and take a nap. I’ll call you for dinner.”

You mumble a quiet thanks before heading upstairs to your room, finally letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The events of the day weigh heavily on you, especially with the thought of how you hurriedly dash out of your house in the morning, to go to class, and end up not attending any of it. But exhaustion wins out, and you collapse onto your bed.

Meanwhile, downstairs, your parents continue their conversation—until your mom suddenly sniffs the air.

“…Do you smell that?” she asks, her nose scrunching slightly.

Your dad lowers his newspaper, sniffing as well. His brows furrow. “Yeah… that’s not her usual scent.”

Your mom gasps, suddenly lighting up like a teenage girl hearing gossip. “Oh my god! It smells like an Alpha!” she squeals, fanning herself dramatically. “Do you think—? No way! Our baby girl met an Alpha?!”

Your dad groans, shaking his head. “Don’t start.”

But your mom is already giggling, clasping her hands together. “This is huge! What if it’s her mate? What if she’s finally found the one?!”

Your dad sighs. “Or maybe she just bumped into someone.”

But your mom isn’t listening. She’s too busy spinning scenarios in her head, imagining wedding bells and grandchildren, while your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing there’s no stopping her now.

The next day at school, everything feels… normal.

Almost too normal.

No pranks. No teasing. No Jungkook tripping you as you walk past his desk in Biology.

At first, you think it’s some kind of elaborate trick. Maybe he’s setting up something worse. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to lower your guard. But as the days pass, the torment never comes. He barely even acknowledges you in class—just sits there, staring at his notes, acting as if you don’t exist.

You should feel relieved. You do—mostly. But something about it feels off.

Then there’s the other thing.

It started two days ago, on a completely normal lunch break. You had just grabbed your tray from the cafeteria when your phone vibrated with an unknown number. At first, you thought it was a spam call, but when you answered, a familiar voice grumbled on the other end.

“Rooftop. Now.”

That was it. No explanation. No name. But you knew who it was.

And for some insane reason, you actually went.

You sighed as you stood on the rooftop, arms crossed, watching Jungkook lean against the railing like he had nothing better to do. With you still not having any clue as to why you’re here.

He wasn’t teasing you.

He wasn’t bullying you.

Hell, he wasn’t even talking.

Just standing there. Existing. Being annoying with his broad shoulders and his stupidly toned back that—

You blinked.

Nope. Absolutely not.

You weren’t going to admire Jungkook’s back. You weren’t going to notice how perfect the fit of his uniform was on him or how the slight breeze tousled his hair in a way that would make anyone swoon.

He’s a menace.

A tormentor.

He made your life hell for years!

You shook your head, forcing the thought out of your mind before you accidentally spiraled into something worse.

“Are you gonna stand there and sulk all day?” Jungkook suddenly muttered without even looking at you.

Your brows furrowed. “What the hell do you even want, Jungkook?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours. It was so quick, so subtle that you didn’t even think twice about it.

Just like every other day.

What you didn’t know was that he had done it on purpose.

Every time he stood near you, every time he subtly brushed past you, every time he casually leaned against you like it was nothing…

He was scenting you.

Carefully. Subtly. Just enough so that no other Alpha would catch onto the fact that your scent was unclaimed and vulnerable.

You didn’t notice, but he did.

Every. Single. Time.

And that he hated himself for it.

Because no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, to fight against it—

You were his mate.

And the need to scent you was driving him insane, when he can just easily claim what’s his.

“You’re coming to prom tomorrow?” Jungkook asked casually before turning to leave, his question so abrupt that it caught you off guard.

“Uh… yeah. My mom got me a dress,” you replied hesitantly, still processing why he even cared.

“Okay.” His response was short, almost indifferent, yet it only left you more confused.

The venue was already bustling with life by the time you arrived. Laughter, music, and the soft clinking of glasses filled the air, yet you remained on the outskirts, lingering near the corner of the grand ballroom. You didn’t exactly have anyone to talk to, so instead, you busied yourself watching the swirling figures of your classmates, lost in their own world of glittering dresses and expensive colognes.

Your light blue gown cascaded elegantly to the floor, its soft chiffon layers swaying with every step. The bodice hugged your form, adorned with delicate silver embroidery that shimmered under the dim, golden lights. The off-shoulder sleeves draped gracefully over your arms, giving you an air of effortless elegance. Your hair was styled in soft waves, half of it pinned back with a silver clip, leaving just enough to frame your face.

Despite looking the part of someone who belonged here, you felt completely out of place.

You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to another. If anything, at least Jungkook talked to you, even if it was annoying. Unconsciously, your gaze drifted across the room, searching for him among the crowd. It was stupid—you knew that—but something about his presence, no matter how frustrating, was familiar.

But no matter where you looked, you couldn’t find him.

Minutes passed, and the suffocating atmosphere of the venue started to weigh on you. The overly sweet scent of perfumes mixed with the heat of too many bodies pressed together made your head feel heavy. Bored and restless, you quietly slipped past the grand doors and out into the cool night air.

The contrast was instant.

A crisp breeze kissed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you stepped onto the empty balcony. The muffled sound of music and laughter echoed from inside, but out here, it was peaceful. You leaned against the railing, inhaling deeply as you let the fresh air clear your mind.

At least out here, you could finally breathe.

Just as you were beginning to relax, a sharp whistle cut through the quiet night air.

Your body stiffened. Slowly, you turned your head toward the source of the sound, your heart already pounding.

A group of five guys—three Alphas and two Betas—stood a few feet away, their eyes locked on you like a pack of wolves finding easy prey. The way they leered at you made your stomach twist.

“Well, well, look what we have here,” one of the Alphas sneered, stepping forward. His smirk was sharp, predatory. “An Eclipse Omega, all alone in the dark.”

Your breath hitched.

Another Alpha laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t think we’d see one of your kind out in the open. You must be real desperate for attention, huh?”

“I—I was just leaving,” you muttered, forcing yourself to stand your ground, even as your knees threatened to buckle.

One of the Betas scoffed. “Leaving? Aww, come on, don’t be like that. No one even wants an Eclipse Omega, right? You should be grateful we’re giving you the time of day.”

You felt like you’d been slapped.

Alphas always went for normal Omegas. Eclipse Omegas like you were considered… defective. Your scent was weaker, your heats unpredictable—most Alphas found you undesirable. You had heard the whispers before, the cruel remarks. But hearing it now, from them, in this situation…

Another Alpha leaned in slightly, eyes dark with amusement. “But hey, you’ve got a pussy just like every other Omega, don’t you?” He grinned. “Maybe you should take what you can get.”

Laughter erupted from the group, and bile rose in your throat.

The air around you suddenly felt suffocating, like their presence alone was pressing down on you, caging you in.

“Tell you what,” the first Alpha said, rubbing his chin like he was pretending to think. “How about we make this fun?”

His smirk widened.

“We’ll give you a head start. Five minutes. You run as fast as you can into the woods,” he gestured toward the dark tree line at the edge of the school grounds, “and if we catch you…” He trailed off, letting the silence stretch.

Your breath came out shaky, fear coursing through your veins like fire.

Run.

That was all your mind could process.

Without another word, you turned and bolted, the sound of their laughter ringing in your ears as you stumbled off the balcony and onto the grass.

Tears blurred your vision as you sprinted toward the forest, your heels sinking into the dirt, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

You didn’t dare look back.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the men’s sinister laughter echoed behind you, each step they took sending a fresh wave of terror through your body. You knew they were close—too close—and that no matter how fast you ran, they were faster. Stronger.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs as you pushed your legs to move faster, desperation clawing at your throat. But in your blind panic, you didn’t see the tree branch lying in your path.

Your foot caught on it.

A strangled gasp left your lips as you stumbled forward, gravity yanking you down. The world tilted, and before you could catch yourself, you crashed onto the cold, unforgiving forest floor, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs. Dirt and leaves clung to your dress as you scrambled to push yourself up, your hands shaking violently.

Behind you, the laughter grew louder, closer.

"Aw, poor thing fell," one of them taunted, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Guess she really is useless. Eclipse Omegas are weak little things, aren’t they?" another sneered.

Your entire body was trembling now, heart hammering so hard it hurt. You tried to crawl forward, to get up and run again, but footsteps crunched against the leaves behind you—too close.

"Game over," one of them chuckled darkly, as one of the men grabbed your jaw tightly.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for whatever was coming,

A deep, guttural growl ripped through the air, so feral and vicious that the laughter behind you died instantly. The atmosphere changed, thick with something heavy, something dangerous.

Your eyes snapped open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

His stance was rigid, his breathing controlled, but his eyes had already turned pitch black, a sign that he’s already about to turn in his wolf form at any moment .

“Shit…” one of the Betas muttered under his breath.

“Jungkook?” Another scoffed, but you could hear the slight tremor in his voice. “Didn’t think the golden boy would show up.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened. “Didn’t think I’d have to deal with bottom-feeders like you tonight.”

One of the Alphas snarled, stepping forward. “Back off, Jeon. This doesn’t concern you.”

Jungkook tilted his head, the corner of his lip twitching into something almost amused—but there was nothing funny about the way his gaze burned into them.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said casually. “You made it my problem the moment you touched what’s mine.”

His words sent a ripple through you, but you barely had time to react. The men did.

The first Alpha lunged without warning, his body shifting mid-air, bones cracking as he transformed into a massive wolf. The others followed instantly, launching toward Jungkook with snarls ripping through their throats.

But Jungkook didn’t shift.

He didn’t need to.

Jungkook moved faster than your eyes could track. One second, the first Alpha was mid-leap, claws bared, fangs ready to sink into flesh. The next, a sickening crack echoed through the trees.

Jungkook had grabbed the Alpha mid-air, twisting its head with an unnatural force—ripping it clean from its shoulders.

Blood sprayed across the forest floor, the head rolling away, its expression frozen in shock. The lifeless body slumped to the ground with a heavy thud.

The other Alpha skidded to a stop, horror flashing in his eyes. He turned, trying to shift back, trying to run—

But Jungkook was faster.

With a single step forward, he drove his fist straight through the wolf’s chest, gripping onto his spine from the inside. A strangled howl left the creature’s throat before Jungkook yanked his arm back—spine and all.

The body collapsed instantly, blood pooling beneath it, the scent of death overpowering the air.

The moment the two Alphas fell lifeless to the ground, the remaining three turned on their heels, desperate to escape.

But they had no chance.

Jungkook was already moving before they could even shift.

With terrifying speed, he closed the distance between them, his hands striking like death itself.

The first Beta barely had time to scream before Jungkook’s claws sliced clean across his throat. Blood gushed out in a gruesome arc, his body falling limp before it even registered what had happened.

The second tried to shift mid-run, fur sprouting along his arms—

But Jungkook grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. In one swift motion, his claws tore through flesh, severing arteries and muscle like paper.

shaking.

“P-please…” he whimpered, tears streaking down his face. “I—I didn’t even touch her—”

Jungkook didn’t care.

With a single swipe, he slit his throat wide open, the Beta’s final gurgle lost in the choking flood of his own blood.

And then—silence.

Jungkook stood among the bodies, his chest rising and falling steadily, crimson staining his skin, his suit ruined.

He turned to you.

Your breath hitched, your entire body frozen in place.

Jungkook had just massacred five men in a matter of seconds.

And yet—there wasn’t a single ounce of remorse in his expression.

Only possession.

Like he had simply taken out the trash.

Jungkook’s head tilted slightly, his gaze locking onto yours.

And then, in an instant, his entire demeanor shifted.

Gone was the ruthless killer who had just torn five men apart like they were nothing.

Now, his eyes—wide, frantic, almost wild—were scanning you in pure panic.

“Fuck, fuck—” His voice trembled as he rushed forward, his hands hovering over your arms, your waist, your face—like he didn’t know where to start, where to check first.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice cracked, his fingers finally landing on your wrists, clutching them tightly but gently, as if you would break. His breathing was erratic, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Tell me, please—are you okay? Did they—”

His eyes darted all over your body, searching for bruises, for scratches, for any sign that they had touched what was his.

You just stood there, frozen, unable to process the sudden shift in him.

And then—

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

Tears welled in his eyes as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his entire body shaking.

“I was almost too late,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I—” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his hands gripping you tighter, as if he was afraid you’d disappear. “I almost lost you.”

And before you could even react, he leaned in.

His lips landed on your temple, pressing a desperate kiss. Then another—on your cheek, your forehead, the corner of your mouth—his lips trailing down to your jaw, your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine.

He was shaking.

Kissing you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, like he was trying to reassure himself that you were still here, still breathing, still his.

Still his.

The realization hit you like a truck.

Your breath caught in your throat as your mind finally connected the dots, the way he had been acting, the way he had been calling you to the rooftop, the way his scent lingered on you—

You gasped softly.

“…My mate.”

Jungkook’s lips stilled against your neck, his body tensing.

And when he pulled back, his red-rimmed eyes met yours.

He had been trying to fight it.

Deny it.

But he couldn’t anymore.

Because you knew.

And there was no going back.

Then, suddenly—

A sharp, searing heat bloomed in your stomach.

Your body trembled, your knees nearly giving out as a whimper slipped past your lips. The suppressant—whatever the doctor had given you—was failing.

Jungkook’s proximity, his touch, the way his scent completely engulfed you—it was too much.

You gasped, gripping onto his shoulders, your entire body burning from the inside out.

Jungkook inhaled sharply.

His entire frame shuddered as the same realization dawned on him— his suppressant was failing too.

His heat.

His own scent grew impossibly strong, thick with need, with instinct. His hands clenched around you, muscles tensing as if trying to fight against the overwhelming pull.

But it was futile.

Your body arched against his, heat pooling deep in your core as the ache became unbearable.

A growl rumbled from his chest, low and guttural. His arms wrapped around you, caging you in, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Fuck," he rasped, voice strained. "I— I can't—"

Another whimper escaped you, your mind hazy, instincts screaming for relief, for him.

Jungkook's breath was hot against your neck. His hands tightened on your hips as his lips parted, revealing sharp canines.

"Mine," he growled.

Then—

A sharp sting.

His teeth sank into your skin, marking you.

And in that moment—

You were his.

Forever.

[horchatakoo]

Welcome to Horchata's Blog

Hi! I’m Cha, 18 year of age, and I write BTS fanfics as a hobby.From soft romance to darker themes, my stories are a mix of everything I love.

This blog is a little sanctuary of words and daydreams—please be kind when you step inside. Mean-spiritedness has no place here. Be lovely, always.

Fanfic requests are open!

Send in your ideas, and I’ll choose the ones that inspire me.

do include your preferred themes for the fanfic request as it would help me a lot in writing!

💌: No set upload dates, since there are times when I’m busy, so please be patient. I also only write for BTS members.

MASTERLIST loading…

🌷JEON JUNGKOOK:

• in his mercy - 01 | 02

• beneath him - 01 | 02

• PLAYER 97

• the more you struggle, the tighter i hold

🌷KIM SEOKJIN:

• perfect wife