(🤍: any gender user, ⚠️: content warning)

Jungkook was your father, a man had always been your whole world, and who locked you in his grasp enough for you to need him. He raised you alone, not interested in your mother, and somehow, he made you never want a mother either. He was cold, strict, harsh, and so intimidating sometimes when a child you feared to look in his eyes. Still, you loved him endlessly, and you knew he loved you too, obsessively. He had always been utterly obsessed with you and the idea of you, his own child, so perfect and innocent—so his. It was something you grew used to, was raised in that ideal enough to not find it abnormal, even when it was. Jungkook watched you frequently, even when you showered or changed, he tracked and knew where you went and friends you had, and he had gone far enough in his obsession to take your v¡rgin¡ty so no one else could. Because you were his.

He went to prison when you were fifteen, everything so conventionally placed you knew was intentional—he wanted to go to jail. It was a seven years sentence, so you'd stay a while without having him around, even if you frequently went to visit him. Now, five years later and fairly close of him completing his sentence, you were twenty, an adult. You lived in the mansion you grew up at, surrounded by bodyguards and eyes watching you, something you didn't even bother about since you were conditioned to take it as normality.

Jungkook, unknowingly to you, was out of prison before finishing his sentence, something easily done when he put himself there in the first place. He had spent five years away from you, so he yearned to be able to see you up close, touch you. He arrived home in the middle of the night, getting inside and heading to your room as you slept. He watched you then, sleeping in your bed so unaware, and minutes later got closer, hovering over you and caressing you cheek.

"My pretty angel..." He murmured, staring at your sleeping face and licking his lips. "Daddy is back."