The morning sun poured through the tall library windows of the University’s English Literature wing, catching on the soft white skin of a girl who looked like she’d been painted by someone with very dirty thoughts. Her name was Tae, and she was twenty-two, but right now she looked like the sweetest, most fuckable little nerd on campus.

She sat at her usual corner table, back straight, thick thighs pressed together under the tiniest baby-pink pleated skirt she owned. The skirt was so short it barely covered the lower curve of her fat, juicy ass when she sat — the kind of ass that jiggled softly with every step, round and heavy, begging to be grabbed. Up top she wore a cropped white baby tee that said “Bookworm” in glittery letters. The fabric stretched obscenely tight over her massive tits — huge, soft, bouncy DDs that spilled out the sides and strained the neckline so low you could see the faint shadow of her cleavage. Her nipples, small and pink, poked faintly against the thin cotton because the AC was cold and she never wore a bra. “Bras are uncomfortable when I’m studying,” she always told herself, blushing even at the thought.

Her face was pure sin wrapped in innocence: big doe eyes behind cute round glasses, long lashes, full pink lips she kept biting nervously. Snow-white skin that flushed rose at the slightest attention. Her long black hair was tied in a messy bun with a pink pencil stuck through it, a few soft strands framing her cheeks. Between her legs, hidden under that tiny skirt and a pair of innocent white cotton panties, sat the prettiest secret on campus — a plump, puffy, fat pink pussy that had never been touched by anyone but her own shy fingers late at night. The lips were thick and soft, always a little slick when she got anxious, which was basically all the time.

Tae flipped another page of her Jane Austen novel, highlighter flying. She had no friends. None. The other girls in her year called her “Virgin Library” and “Teacher’s Pet” behind her back — sometimes right to her face.

“Ugh, look at her again,” a group of girls whispered loudly two tables away, giggling. “Still studying at 8 a.m. like a fucking loser. Who even wears that tiny skirt to the library? Trying to look cute while being a boring nerd?”

Another laughed. “Bet she’s never even kissed a guy. Her pussy probably has cobwebs.”

Tae’s cheeks burned scarlet. She ducked her head lower, pretending she couldn’t hear, but her thighs squeezed together under the table. She hated it… but the words always made her nipples tighten against her shirt. She hated that part most of all.

Across campus, in the same English major but living in a completely different world, was Jeon Jungkook.

Six-foot-one of pure muscle and arrogance. Broad shoulders, veiny forearms covered in black ink, sharp jawline, messy dark hair that always looked like some girl had just run her fingers through it. He wore a tight black tee that clung to his ripped chest and abs, black ripped jeans hanging low on his narrow hips, and a silver chain that bounced against his collarbones when he walked. Girls literally moaned his name when he passed. He was the campus king — rich daddy’s boy, bad-boy reputation, and a cock that had ruined half the slutty girls in the department.

Kook leaned against the wall outside the lecture hall, one leg bent, smirking while a blonde in an even tinier skirt than Tae’s was pressed against his chest, whispering filthy promises in his ear.

“You gonna let me suck you off in the bathroom again, Kook? I’ve been wet for you since last night…”

He chuckled low, big hand palming her ass openly. “Maybe if you beg pretty enough, baby. I only fuck girls who know how to take it rough and shut the fuck up after.”

He never glanced at the quiet nerds. Never. Slutty, loud, dripping-with-confidence girls were his thing. Girls who sent nudes at 2 a.m. and rode his thick cock like they were born for it. A shy bookworm in oversized glasses? Invisible. He didn’t even know Tae existed.

Until the fight.

It happened that same afternoon behind the gym — Kook versus some other rich prick named Minho who thought he could look at the same girl Kook was currently fucking. Punches flew. Bones cracked. Minho ended up with a broken nose, split lip, and a concussion. Campus security dragged Kook away while he was still spitting blood and laughing.

Next morning, the Dean’s office smelled like expensive leather and disappointment.

Jungkook slouched in the chair like he owned the place, legs spread wide, arms crossed over his massive chest. His lip was still swollen, but he looked bored.

“Jeon Jungkook,” the Dean sighed, “this is your third fight this semester. Minho is in the hospital. You know what that means.”

“Wasn’t me,” Kook said flatly, voice deep and cocky. “I was in the library. Studying. Like a good boy.”

The Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “One student witnessed the entire thing. She’s waiting outside. Come in, please.”

The door opened.

Tae stepped inside, clutching her books to her massive chest like a shield. Her tiny white crop top had ridden up just enough to show a sliver of soft underboob. The pleated skirt swished around her thick thighs. Her cheeks were already pink, eyes wide behind her glasses. She looked like a scared little bunny who’d accidentally wandered into the wolf’s den.

Kook’s dark eyes flicked to her for the very first time.

And for a split second, something dangerous flashed in them.

Tae’s voice was tiny, shaky, but honest. “I-I saw everything, sir. Jungkook… he started the fight. He punched Minho first. Multiple times. I was walking to the library and… and I saw it all.”

Kook’s jaw clenched so hard it ticked. His big hands curled into fists on his thighs. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The Dean didn’t even blink. “Two-week suspension, Jungkook. Effective immediately. When you return, you will bring both parents for a formal disciplinary meeting. And you will write a ten-page apology essay. Tae, thank you for your honesty. You may go.”

Tae bowed quickly, mumbled “Y-yes sir,” and practically ran for the door, heart hammering.

She didn’t make it far.

The second the Dean’s door clicked shut, a strong hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the empty stairwell around the corner. Her back hit the cold wall with a soft gasp. Jungkook towered over her, breathing hard, eyes black with fury. Up close he smelled like cologne, leather, and pure rage. His massive frame blocked everything.

“You little fucking snitch,” he growled, voice low and venomous. “You just ruined my life for two weeks because you couldn’t keep your nerdy mouth shut?”

Tae’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “I-I was just telling the truth… I didn’t mean—”

“Shut the fuck up.” His big hand shot up, fingers pinching both her fat, sensitive nipples through the thin baby tee at the same time — hard. Cruel. Twisting.

“A-ahh!” Tae cried out, a high, broken whimper. Her huge tits filled his palms as he squeezed, the pain shooting straight between her legs. Her pink nipples throbbed instantly, swelling under the fabric. Tears spilled down her flushed cheeks.

Kook leaned in until his lips brushed her ear, voice a dark whisper. “Two weeks, nerd. Then I’m coming back to make you regret everything. I’m gonna ruin that shy little life of yours. You’re gonna wish you never opened your pretty mouth.”

He gave her nipples one last vicious twist, then let go. Tae’s legs buckled; she slid down the wall a little, sobbing softly, hands flying up to cup her aching breasts.

Kook smirked, dark and mean, and walked away without another word.

Two hours later, Tae was back in her tiny single dorm room, door locked, curtains drawn. She stood in front of her full-length mirror, still sniffling, and slowly peeled off her crop top. Her massive tits bounced free — heavy, pale, perfect. Right in the center of each soft mound, her pink nipples were bruised dark red, puffy, swollen to twice their normal size. Little fingerprints marked the creamy skin around them.

“Oh my god…” she whispered, voice shaky. She hooked her thumbs into her tiny skirt and panties and pushed them down too. Her fat pink pussy lips peeked out, puffy and glistening just a little from the earlier pain and fear. She didn’t touch there — she was too embarrassed — but she stared at herself, trembling.

She grabbed the little tube of healing ointment from her desk, scooped some onto her fingers, and gently started rubbing it into her bruised nipples. The cool cream made her whimper.

“Mmm… h-hurts…” she breathed, circling the swollen peaks slowly, massaging the ointment in. Every touch sent little sparks down to her untouched clit. Her fat pussy clenched visibly in the mirror. “He’s so mean… so so mean… that bad boy… he pinched me so hard… ahh…”

She kept massaging, tears still rolling, voice tiny and broken. “Why did he do that to me…? I was just… I was just being good… My poor nipples… they’re all red and puffy now… he’s gonna come back… he said he’s gonna ruin me…”

Her fingers accidentally tugged a little too hard on one sore nipple and she moaned softly, thighs rubbing together. “Kook… you’re so bad… so cruel… but… but why does it feel…”

She stopped herself, blushing furiously, and kept rubbing the ointment in slow, whimpering circles.

Outside, somewhere on campus, Jungkook was already counting down the days.

And sweet little Tae had no idea what was coming for her in exactly fourteen days.