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Why must you hurt me?

The Dark Prince pt.1 | JJK

𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Prince!Jungkook X Caretaker! freader

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: Yandere, Royalty!au, Curse!au, Smut, Angst, 4k 

𝔖𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: His family name cursed, Jungkook is doomed to live his life in the furthest tower of the castle, alone and abandoned. You are charged with serving his highness with any need he may have, no matter the demand.

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 18 +M smut, mentions of curses and witches, mentions of hexes, mentions of death (side character), mentions of corruption, angst, pillow humping, rutting, orgasm, mentions of cum and touching cum, anger, obsession, misunderstandings, abandonment, future smut.

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Jesus! This was a wild ride! But it was so damn good. I have so many questions! Like what did Jk do to be on the receiving end of her husband's wrath and why did he see fit to go after her instead of him. Overall though? I fucking love this story so much. 💖💕

-- I can't wait to read more 💫

j.jungkook | monsters

word count: 4.5k

pairing: jungkook x reader

synopsis: in the darkness is when the monsters rise.

genre: horror, angst, demon au

warnings: implied minor character death, implied toxic relationship, brief description of gore, death threat, brief violence

author’s note: please do not read this fic if any of the topics listed in the warnings is upsetting or triggering for you. this fic is based on the tale of the hungarian demon, the lidérc. they feed off of nightmares and fear. my beta readers (thank you so much to @voiceswithoutlips-kas, @elcie-chxn, and ryan for beta reading this fic for me) have told me that this fic might be confusing to read at first, so please read it in its entirety. i promise that every detail serves a purpose. that being said, the entire fic will be placed under the read more cut, as triggering content is mentioned right from the start. the banner was made by @voiceswithoutlips-kas​, thank you so much.

cross posted to ao3 here

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firelight

🔸 synopsis: there’s history between yn and jimin. some good, some (okay, a lot) bad. the only problem is, there should never have been any ‘history’ to begin with. not when they’re supposed to be family.

🔸 genre: fluff, angst, explicit, forbidden love au

🔸 warnings: cursing, cheating, pseudo-incest (they’re step-siblings), you’re meant to hate the main characters fyi

🔸 word count: 4.8k

🔸 author’s note: writing this pushed me out of my comfort zone, but i’m glad i did it. please let me know what you think of this. i’m genuinely losing my desire to share fics on here lol. happy reading~!! :]

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Tell you no lies.

Yandere ! Jungkook x College student OC

Lawyer Jungkook.

Summary : You’re just staying at your mother’s apartment for your first year of college to save some money. Jungkook is your stepfather who is too intriguing to ignore.

Warnings : Yandere themes, non con, manipulation, pseudo incest, daddy kink, age difference. 

Word Count : 4,100. 

Part 1

——————–

Jeon Jungkook is your step father,. an intriguing figure in your life, almost twenty years older than you and yet so far from ‘old’.   Even at 38 he’s a handsome man , tall and strapping and with a well kept body. He never misses a workout, up at the crack of dawn, sipping his protein shake and dressed in short and a tank top with his bag slung over his neck. 

Jungkook works extra hard to look good and and you don’t blame him. Your own mother is a beautiful lady five years younger than Jungkook but she looks like she could be your older sister.

And because she had you at 15 , she’s always been more of a sister anyway. You love your mother, although you don’t have a typical mother daughter relationship. 

You grew up with your grandparents , back in your hometown in Daegu. Your mother had always been a city girl. You don’t dislike her, you just don’t understand her and her lifestyle, having always been attracted to the quiet solitude of home and family rather than the pull of the night. 

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rumour has it, i’m into you

—drabble, 4.1k words, fluff, dedicated to @tommosteps this is my hug for you, did i write this because i wanted an excuse to talk about how hot jimin is? no yes 🥲❤️‍🔥 (you’re not legally allowed to ask me if this was supposed to make any sense, asdfjghjk)

—gif credit to @/poemforsmallthings

(you guys are seeing this, right? like, i am in physical pain because of him. @ God, help me.)

. . .

Morning arrives with your head held high.

Groups of students line the lockers, chatting about the weekend, as you walk past them with two trays of fresh-baked brownies in your arms. Over your shoulder, a mustard hued Heinken backpack carries your remaining necessities for school, though nothing could be as important today as the delicacies you are holding.

Five hours. It had taken you five hours to pull your ingredients together, get your head on straight, and bake until you had perfected two glass trays of chewy, fudge brownies for today's backsale. Or in your book, the most important day of the year.

As a second year university student with two more years to go before the real world invited you into its clutches, the most vital event in your agenda is this afternoon. An entire afternoon full of chances upon chances for you to beat the odds and win the vote as the next vice-president of the school newspaper.

The opportunity is an ancient one written with invisible ink along the walls of the Aberdeen Gazette. Rumour has it that the president awards vice-presidency to whomever publishes the most articles in the Gazette throughout the previous two years; whomever has displayed the best teamwork skills; and last but not least, whomever brings in the most sales at the annual Gazette Bake Sale. Through the grapevine, you have heard this part to be extra special since the money pays for the current president to go on a trip abroad to cover an international news story. Obviously, whomever earns the president the trip is viewed as indisposible.

Which brings you to the root of your smiles and cheer this morning. Five hours baking and stressing is unimportant in relation to earning the spot of vice-president. It is a position you have been dreaming about since the moment you entered the university. For two years, you had worked tirelessly to provide well-written articles on the best and most boring subjects in and around campus. Everything from the hottest hangout spots, the Palestinian cause, the entirety of the global pandemic, as well as subject matter related to explosions in the chemistry lab, dreadfully dull modern society lectures, and when sales at the campus bookstore are happening.

For two years, you had worked and worked without complaint. Now, it is time to reap the rewards.

Entering the elevator in the student center, you settle into a spot in the middle when you notice two familiar faces pulling up to the closing doors. Immediately, you balance the glass trays in your left hand then reach over to push the 'open doors' button. The button lights up in bright red as you take a step back to give space to the couple.

The first pair of eyes you meet are a boy named Jimin's.

Of its own accord, your heart begins to race. It does that a lot--your heart. And only around him. It started sometime over the summer when you were moving into a student house across the street from his, and he and all his friends came over to yours to 'meet the new neighbours.' They claimed it was 'the neighbourly thing to do,' but after two of his roommates started dating two of yours, the lines became blurry.

The two of you don't talk much, but you notice him all the time. He never initiates conversation with you, but he somehow always finds your eyes no matter where the two of you are. The room could be as gigantic as the moon and he would still notice your presence and bring you into a silent conversation.

"Are those for the bake sale?"

The other person in the elevator asks you a question as the doors shut. Right. As much as you would prefer it, you and Jimin are not the only two people inside this moving room. His girlfriend, Andie, is here, too. At a mere five feet, it's easy to forget when she's in the room sometimes. (Or maybe it's just the fact that when Jimin is around, it's hard to discern anyone else's presence.)

"Yeah," you nod along, transfering the full weight of the trays between both your arms. One side begins to tip downwards, but Jimin catches it just in time. His fingers brush your skin causing you to hold back a shudder. His girlfriend throws him a dirty look which you ignore. Jimin is holding something, too. A small, brown box. "Did you bring something, too?"

Andie grins and reaches over to dig inside the box as Jimin struggles to keep holding it up. He breathes a short sigh of relief when she produces plastic tray of cupcakes topped with lavender frosting and white sprinkles. They look beautiful, and as Andie spins one around in her hand, she finishes by pointing it towards you.

"Have this," she says, smiling giddily to herself. "I have a feeling all of these will sell out before lunch."

Her confidence gives you motivation to say no. As much as you would love to cram the cupcake into your mouth, Andie is competition; and with all competition, lines must be drawn.

"Oh, no, thanks," you smile just as the elevator dings on the tenth floor. "I don't eat sugar."

Andie huffs and whispers, 'bitch' as you stalk off in the direction of the community room.

The president of the newspaper, Hudson, welcomes you as you place your trays of brownies on one of the many open tables in the room. A few other members of the Gazette are talking amongst each other. From what you can see, there are about three other items: scones, cheesecake, and granola bars. The members who made them wave at you as you walk over to Hudson and join him in conversation with his girlfriend.

"Good morning," you greet them as Andie and Jimin walk through the door. Jimin smiles as he passes by you, but you clear your throat and look away. He's someone else's boyfriend, YN. Get it together. To Hudson, you say, "How was your weekend?"

"Really great actually," he tells you as he slips his arm around his girlfriend, Kelly. She blushes as he plants a peck on her cheek. "I asked this one to marry me."

"Oh my God," you laugh, stepping close to wrap them both up in a hug. "That's so amazing. Congratulations!"

Hudson chuckles as he pats your back just before you give them their space again. He's smiling from ear-to-ear. "Thanks for being cool about it," he says. "I know we're young, but we're ready for this next step. Right, babe?" Kelly nods and interlaces their hands. He looks at you again. "Listen, I wanted to tell you that I'm doing things a bit differently this year."

As your brows furrow, you tilt your head to listen. "Differently?"

"I've already picked the vice-president for next year," Hudson explains with a grin. "The tradition of the bakesale is stupid, and I don't really care that much about going to Indonesia to cover the volcano story, so I picked the vice-president based on whomever worked the hardest this year, and that person is... you."

A ringing in your ears fights for dominance as you hold back a scream. Eyes wide, your gaze jumps between Hudson and Kelly to make sure they aren't messing with you. When you realize they arene't, you slap a hand over your mouth. "Really?" you finally manage to whisper after a few seconds. Tears spring to your eyes. The culmination of your hard work coming to fruition bends your heart in all sorts of wayward directions. "Hudson, wow, um. Thank you. Thank you so much."

The older man smiles and nods his head. "I'll announce it to everyone in a bit. I know it might tick people off since some of them have their hearts set out on the bake sale, but I'm content with my decision in picking you."

Taking a seat next to your brownies, you try very hard not to listen to the commotion Andie is causing behind you as she tears into her boyfriend.

"I saw you looking at her," she hisses at him. The back of your neck freezes at her words. She can't be referring to you, can she? "Do you think I'm blind?"

"I wasn't trying to--" The end of Jimin's explanation splits in the middle when Hudson gathers all the attention to himself.

"Good morning, everyone," he greets, using a booming voice which he is well-known for in the department. "Thank you for all your wonderful creations. This room smells amazing. I'm sure everyone will sell out in no time." He pauses to take a breath and then, he nods at you. Behind you, Andie indiscreetly whispers, 'what the hell?' "I know there is an old rumour around campus that the annual bake sale is the final determiner of the who will earn the spot of vice-president next year. However, I have chosen to do things differently. Based on attendance records, weekly meeting efforts, published articles, and general workplace relationships, I would like to take this moment to announce the next vice-president: YN YLN."

When Hudson claps, the remainder of the room bursts into applause as well. Although it is rather glum and a bit confused, it's present, and it makes you happy for yourself regardless. Elation fills your heart as Hudson gifts you a box. When you open it, a black, ink pen with the gazette's name embellished in the side stares back at you.

"Congratulations, YN," Hudson says, smiling again as he walks back to his post. Eyes dart between him and you, but you are hardly paying attention. The pen is so beautiful that you can't look away. "Have fun today, everyone. All proceeds will go towards community outreach efforts via our school paper. Good luck!"

Murmurs break out throughout the room as Hudson leaves the front of the room to find his post next to Kelly's cotton candy machine. It's the biggest thing inside the room, save for the fridge in the corner, and nearly cuts off any image of the tiny girl behind it.

A shadow falls into your vision. Hesitantly, you look up to see Andie glaring down at you with fury in her eyes.

"Did you sleep with him or something?" Her outright brashness spins in circles around your head for a moment before finally landing somewhere in the part of your brain which comprehends threats. Everything about the girl is threatening--from the way she looks at you to the way her lips are snarling like a lone tiger. "What are you playing at, YN?" Jimin steps in behind her, whispering a quiet, 'I'm sorry' your way, but you ignore him for the sake of the fight building up inside you. If the girl wants a fight, you'll give her a fight.

"Bold of you to assume that I would have to sleep with someone in power to win them over," you slyly muse as a triumphant smirk dangles off your lips. "I wouldn't dare copy your M.O."

Timing. Life is all about timing. The perfect timing leads to beautiful, unimaginable things, but bad timing... well, it leads to the complete opposite.

Right now is what you would consider bad timing. And also, a complete lack of intelligence on your part. One moment you are standing up for yourself and the next, you are being doused by a bottle of orange Gatorade.

The attack hits you out of nowhere causing you to nearly fall backwards as your body instinctively weans back. Thick droplets of orange liquid douses you from the tip of your head and down the front of your shirt. Scratch that. Your very white and extremely see-through white blouse which you had bought at Zara over the weekend for full price. And you never buy anything from Zara at full price.

Others in the room gasp as Andie holds the bottle to her chest. Her lips mirror the way yours looked less than a minute ago.

"Oops," she giggles, plastering on a fake pout. "Silly me, my hand slipped."

Head fuzzy and fingers trembling, your lips part to curse her out when hefty denim drops over your shoulders, instantly warming you up. The chatter of the other students, including Hudson who is stomping over, dies away just for a split second as you crane your head up to see Jimin behind you. The denim jacket you initially saw him in today is now draped perfectly over your shoulders.

"Thanks," you murmur, feeling your cheeks heat up a tiny bit.

On the opposite side of you, Andie growls, "What the fuck, Jimin? Why are you helping her?"

"That was out of line, Andie," he argues, genuinely sounding angry at his girlfriend. Every vibration of his deep voice settles atop your shoulders and cacoons you further into his jacket. It smells so good. "Why did you do that?"

By now, Hudson is standing next to Andie with a grim expression while Kelly asks you if you're okay repeatedly.

"Leave, Andie," Hudson bellows, and it sounds so scary that you can't stop your eyes from blinking twice really fast. Hudson is a pretty tall guy and when he stands next to Andie, he looks like he could crush her. A part of you wants to watch him to do it. Another part of you just wants to go to a bathroom. So that's what you do when you excuse myself and walk out of the room, taking Jimin's jacket with you.

Thankfully, the bathroom is empty when you walk in.

The first thing you do is place the jacket and your glasses on the counter. Then, you reach over to the paper towel dispenser and keep pulling until you have a stack of shame in your hands. You always tell yourself to be environmentally friendly, but you fail so epically every time. Is the world against your good nature?

Using the first few towels to wipe the juice on your head, you start cleaning up the mess on your face when the sound of the bathroom door cranking open wrenches you away. You turn around to see Jimin hurriedly walking inside.

"This is the girls' bathroom--"

"I'm sorry," he says, pain etched into the delicate crevices of his face. He looks it, too—sorry. Apologetic. The emotions are vivid on his external features. "I didn't know Andie was going to..."

He stops when he notices the Gatorade dripping down your right cheek. He hurries over and wipes it before the droplet hits your shirt. Though his touch is light, almost featherlike and abundantly careful, it heats you up so quickly that your skin begs for another bottle of cold liquid to be dumped on you. An endless drought is what you have just become.

It's crazy. His simple touch warms you up even better than his jacket did.

His eyes are creased as he whispers, "I'm sorry," again.

Butterflies begin churning in your stomach, and though you want to thank him for being so kind to you, what you end up blurting instead is, "I'm 'sorry,'" in a friendly mock of his accent.

Back when we first met, Jimin had mentioned, in passing, that he had only moved to the city from Korea at the end of middle school. Because of that, he still carries some of his original accent with him when speaking English. You want to hate yourself for being awful and making fun of the way he talks, but you can't help it. The adorable pout on his lips makes you want to do it all over again. And again and again and again.

"Are you making fun of me?"

A shrug, and then a smile. Jimin smiles back at you. So there you two are: two idiots smiling at each other in the girls' bathroom. "Maybe I am."

He scoffs goodnaturedly then continues wiping off the rest of the liquid starting to dry on your face. When he comes across your lips, he pauses. That one little stretch of time freezes you in place.

What is he going to do? You wonder to yourself, watching him as he watches you. Or just stares blankly, really. It's as though his soul has left his body.

But then he starts moving again, like the dawn of a new day. Instead of rubbing the paper towel across your face, he dabs the spots around your mouth and when time finally arrives to clean up that part, he is so gentle. His strokes are defined, and smooth. They make good on their promise to give you what you need and then so much more.

His breathing visibly stops when his finger slips off the towel and breaches contact with your bottom lip. The butterflies in your stomach whoosh up to your throat, clombering atop each other until it's impossible for you to suck in oxygen.

Energy buzzes through your heated skin. He does not move but you could swear he's closer now. Your chests are nearly touching. His fingers are everywhere and nowhere. And then, his thumb is stretching your bottom lip with gentleness. When he lets go, the muscle retracts, and naturally, your tongue darts out to lick it. His breath hitches.

Fuck.

"YN," he whispers your name so beautifully that you could cry. Sob. Hurl. Maybe a little bit of both. He shuffles closer. He meets your eyes. Falling, falling, falling. That's all you're doing as he peers at you. Worse, when he leans in. "I think I—"

It kills you. The thought, the mulling of such thought, and the execution. Every single thing about it all kills you.

Gently, you place a hand on Jimin's chest and push him away. "I'm not a home-wrecker, Jimin," you whisper sternly. The tip of your chin lifts as you look up at him. A thousand tornados swim in his dark irises. "Figure out whatever it is you have with Andie first... please."

The desperation embed in the plead leaves your lips wobbly and uncertain. The Lord knows that you are trying to be good here, but fuck, if he moves in again, you might just end up disappointing yourself forever.

Jimin nods, then takes a step back. Your heart shrinks. It shouldn't. Not when you were the one who inevitably asked for space.

He reaches behind you for his jacket, and just when your heart clenches at the thought of him taking it away, he covers your body with it again.

"Wear this," he says, smiling at you. He glances at your lips again and you bite them. He tries to swallow the groan low in his throat, but it fucking hurts him to do it when all he wants to do is let it roar. All for you. He sighs. "I'm..." A smile threatens to split his lips as he shyly looks at you. "Sorry." The thickening of his accent makes you laugh so loudly that the sound bounces off the walls. Jimin grins. "I'm going to figure it out with her. Can you... will you wait for me?"

A swift loop of your heart tells you the answer.

"You know where to find me, Jimin."

. . .

Less than a week later, you are freshly showered, hair dried, and comfortable as you sit in front of your small dresser inside your bedroom. Following the events of Monday morning, Hudson had democratically voted Andie out of the school paper by enlisting everyone in a group vote the very next day.

Some part of you felt sad when you received the news. No matter what occurred between the two of you, Andie is an insanely talented journalist. A few of the best pieces the Aberdeen Gazette had ever published were under her name. But Hudson had declared his decision final when you brought up the fact to him, and dismissed you from his office even when you told him you didn't care at all about the incident.

Thinking back to the event, you sigh as the mascara wand in your hand shakes. Maybe, if you push Hudson hard enough, he would budge today. Or you could even enlist Kelly's help. The girl is one of the shiest people you know, but she knows how to get through to Hudson better you ever could.

As you're contemplating how to approach the subject with your superior, the door of your bedroom slams open. A breath catches in your throat out of fear of an intrusion. But when you stand up, your heart booms for a different reason.

It's Jimin, and he's headed straight for you.

The mascara wand in your hand patters on the dresser, smearing black ink in wayrward directions, as the boy you have been dreaming about non-stop lately swings an arm around your waist and brings you into a searing kiss.

He plants his lips on yours so quickly that you gasp, but he takes it in stride. He does not miss a beat as he eventually wraps both arms around you and kisses you and kisses you until the need for air threatens to rip your lungs.

A goofball smile paints his lips in various colours when you finally get a good look at him. He's clasing your waist still, but his free hand reaches for your cheek. There, he breezes the backs of his knuckles across the warm skin, leaving it even hotter than before.

"Hi," he greets, utterly nonchalant, though he smiles like a fool. There is a glint in his eyes which pierces your heart the tiniest bit. "Did you have a good morning?"

"It just started," you croak out, blinking so quickly and trying to gather your thoughts. There so many damn butterflies. So many. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you." He pecks your lips then cranes his head downwards to see the makeup and skincare items lined up along your dresser. "Are you going somewhere?"

"To class."

He smiles, nods, then helps you settle back into your earlier position on the chair. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed closeby. It's close enough that your chair hides between his legs.

Without a word, Jimin picks up the discarded mascara wand and holds it up to your lashes. He inspects each of them quietly, then realizes it's your left which has yet to be painted. With practiced ease, he holds the side of your face and applies two coats to your lashes. The touch of his skin on yours heats you up everywhere—from the tip of your head all the way down to your toes.

"Jimin—"

"I broke up with her that morning," he cuts in, tilting his head to inspect his work. Once satisfied, he places the wand back inside the tube and puts it down on the dresser. He's smiling. "Don't worry, I'm not sad. We weren't going out for long anyways." His smile saddens a bit. "I never wanted to date her to begin with. But she asked and I couldn't figure out if it was right to ask you out, so I just..."

Nodding, you don't press him further. Mostly because you're not certain if your heart can take another bomb like the one he just exploded with his confession. He wanted to ask you out?

Jimin glances down at the fist clenched around two tubes of lip tint in your lap. He grins as he looks up again.

"Which one do you want me to apply?"

"You choose."

He coaxes your fist open then examines both tubes for a moment. Then easily, he picks the slightly redder one and throws the other behind you. It lands with a soft crash on the dresser, but you're nor really paying attention. There's just far too much going on in front of you to notice.

Quietly, you move closer to his body so he can apply the tint on your lips, heart thudding as you go, when Jimin surprises you by pulling the stick out and slathering it on his own lips instead.

A snort flies out of you as the red blooms.

"Come on," he jests, shutting the tube closed and tilting his head cutely. "Don't you need to finish getting ready?"

The decision to throw your arms around him is a carnal and elated one. He catches you so effortlessly, laughing and giddy, as you fall back with him on the bed with your lips pressed tight against his. He grins on your mouth and you smile back only for a second because there is just no way you are about to miss out on kissing him right now.

He gathers you in his arms and brings you closer to him, meeting your every fevered kiss with strength and desire. His tongue invades your mouth several times, and at one point, it even feels like he's feasting on you entirely.

It's perfect. It's him. And it's everything you could ever want.

. . .

—a reblog/comment/message is greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this! ☺️