@yameme HERE’S YOUR DADDY JUNGKOOK SMUT. CALLIN’ YOU OUT. HAAHA. enjoy~ I hope I did well~
Genre: Smut
Paring: Jungkook x Reader
Words: 2,545
Warnings: Daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, etc.
You’re a pretty average college student…sort of.
You receive passing grades, have a nice group of friends, and attend class regularly. But…you don’t live in a dorm, and you don’t have a ‘job’. Strangers reactions are always confused when you tell them that—because how can you survive when you’re not making money?—and usually they just assume your parents are wealthy and are putting you through school. And sure, your parents are lending you a hand in paying tuition costs, but they’re not that generous. Or rich.
Your phone buzzing in your pocket is what knocks you out of your daydreaming, and you flinch, eyes flickering to where your professor is standing in front of the white board. Luckily, he doesn’t catch your slip up—the rule of the room being that phones must be on silent—and you slyly pull the device out from the pocket of your bag.
Daddy:
Come over after your class. I’ll buy you those heels you wanted the other day.
Licking your lips, you stare at the words on the screen for a good minute, your thighs unconsciously rubbing together in anticipation. Usually you meet at night—after Jungkook is done with his days, and you’ve finished your classes—but he wants to meet now? In the middle of the afternoon?
You try not to smile, imagining how worked up something must of made him today for him to ask of you out of the blue like this. However, nonetheless, you reply that you’ll be over soon and deposit your phone back into your bag, hiding your excitement behind your hand for the remainder of the class.
When your professor finally dismisses you, you don’t waste a moment before grabbing your bag and bustling out of the room—your knee-length dress fluttering behind you.
Exiting the building, you hurriedly make your way to the usual rendezvous point, smiling when you spot a familiar black car parked in the pick-up area for students. As you approach the vehicle the lock on the back door pops up, and you scoot inside, setting your bag on the ground and flashing a polite look to the familiar, well-dressed driver.
“Miss,” he nods in acknowledgment and then shifts gears, pulling away from the university and starting towards the middle of the city. Cars bustle up and down the street, and you stare out the tinted window along the practically memorized route.
You’d traveled to Jungkook’s residence far too many times now…
Pulling up to the building, you ready your bag and thank Jungkook’s driver for the ride, stepping out of the car and kicking the door closed behind you. Gliding across the lobby of the luxurious apartment building, you step into the elevator and press the button for the floor you need, silently leaning against the railing and waiting as the doors slide closed.
You hate to admit it but your panties are already feeling quiet damp, your mind having conjured up many…images along the ride. Obviously, your relationship with Jungkook isn’t exactly…a romantic, two-kids-in-love type relationship. It’s more….business.
Teasing, sex, hungry eyes, wandering hands, payment. He’s the reason you don’t work. The reason you have far more nice clothing and items than a college student needs. He’s your dark knight—which you had happened to meet about a six months ago, in the dark depths of a club on the far end of town. But more so than a dark knight, he’s your…sugar daddy.
You can’t help shake your head at the term. It hardly feels right, considering that he’s only in his late 20’s, but—technically speaking—you are his sugar baby. His very much beloved, very much called upon sugar baby.
At first you’d been doubtful of his proposal when he’d told you about it on the cold street outside the night club—your car engine shot and no way to get home. He’d offered you a ride, which had turned into a drunken, passionate make-out in the backseat, and then a re-route to his house. When you woke the next morning you had barely remembered what had happened, but you remembered Jungkook—how could you not? He was more stunning than a marble statue in an art museum.
“Let me take care of you,” he had said, brushing your hair out of your eyes, touch gentle, and without thinking much you had agreed.
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