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inkdrinkerworld · 21 days ago

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Courting

Synopsis: Bucky is a man from a different time. It shows when you start ‘going steady’ and honestly, you love it. Alternatively; Bucky uses 40’s dating etiquette to woo you, and surprises you with a modern turn of phrase.

cw: it’s set in a vague timeline where it’s just before cabnw but also during fatws so no thunderbolts spoilers! Bucky is a FLIRT, reader is a little shy, anxiety representation, lots of casual getting to know you, going on a date flirting, Bucky’s serious about reader tho!

word count: 4.4k

Bucky Barnes prides himself on being able to court a woman. He really does. He knows all the rules, knows all the things to say, and it doesn’t hurt that he can flirt his way through any conversation.

You and Bucky met at the Smithsonian when Bucky was missing Steve a little too much and popped in just to get a glimpse of his best friend again.

You were by the Isaiah Bradley display, reading through before murmuring under your breath, “Those poor men.”

Bucky hadn’t meant to eavesdrop like that, but there was so much concern in your voice and he had to say something lest you think they all suffered — looking back, maybe he wasn’t the best person to break that news to you.

“We didn’t all suffer so bad.”

You had gasped when you noticed him, hand to your chest. “You’re Bucky Barnes,” you weigh your words before adding, “Steve’s best friend.”

That alone had won him over. You didn’t bring up the Winter Soldier, or that Bucky was as traumatised as super soldiers went. Just that he was Steve’s best friend.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “This your first time at the Smithsonian?”

You shake your head, a little heat flushing up your cheeks. “I come every couple of weeks, to see if they have any new stuff to add to your plaques. It’s kinda messed up what they did to all of you.”

Bucky smiles, shaking his head. It is messed up, he knows that. All the super soldiers besides John Walker know how messed up it was. “We came out alright, made it to the 21st century after all.”

You tilt your head to the side, “I guess that’s true.”

Bucky’s eyes light up. “Made it this far to meet pretty girls too.”

Your cheeks flame and Bucky chuckles, you chat a bit more before he gives you his number.

It takes you two days to text him. You’d been overthinking it, if you should or shouldn’t. In the end, if he ignored you at least you’d have tried.

It turns out Bucky didn’t give you his number just to be polite, because he answered your text immediately.

The first time he had used his courting experience was when he’d made it a point to establish the fact that he wanted to take you out every second Friday of the month.

He had it in his head that the effort had to be shown and then followed through the entire time and after two days, he was determined to show you that he was serious.

‘I’m free every other Friday, if that’s good with you doll.’

You had responded four minutes later after looking at your phone in shock and a little bit of bewilderment, when was the last time a man was so forward but not in a pushy way?

‘It’s perfect as long as work doesn’t bleed into my weekends’

From there Bucky had planned three of the dates meticulously, going over places and ideas in his head until he’d settled on the best three according to himself.

The first date was at a new diner near his apartment, one that Sam said did really good milkshakes and Bucky hadn’t been able to let the idea go.

“It’s nothing too fancy, but Sam said it’s a good spot.”

You’d worn a pretty skirt and blouse, and Bucky had worn a grey henley and jeans.

“You look gorgeous,” Bucky was full of compliments as you’d learn as the afternoon went on. He dished them out easily and most of the time you pretended not to hear him because he had a sort of pleased look on his face every time you stammered to keep the conversation going, and that in itself had in your stomach in knots.

He even brought you a bouquet of red tulips which had sat beside you on the sticky diner table all day.

“Oh they have milkshakes!” You say excitedly when you catch a server walking past.

Bucky’s heart sores. God bless the forties for making that a thing.

“Wanna try one?”

You look up at him, eyes brimming with hopefulness, “Will we do the cheesy sharing from the same cup?”

Bucky leans back in the booth seat, blue eyes boring into you. “And the same straw if you really want to, doll.”

He’s so fucking smooth, because you can’t do anything but nod now that his gaze is fixed on you.

Deciding what milkshake had taken nearly five minutes, back and forth between what was a classic flavor and why strawberry was definitely not good (Bucky was very offended) and then settling on a Shamrock Shake even though St. Patrick’s day had long passed.

Sharing the milkshake sitting across from each other was more intimate than you had expected it to be, (you hadn’t ended up using one straw but just the eye contact was enough to fluster you). Bucky walked you to your car after paying for dinner, very offended that you tried to pay half of the bill, and opened the door for you. When you had gotten in, he leant a little into your space, “Did you have a good time, doll?”

Your heart pounds. You had a great time, Bucky was easy to be around, even with your shyness.

“I did, thank you Bucky. Did you?”

He smiled, “Don’t see how I couldn’t with you as company.” In your sputtering for an answer Bucky’s heart beat a little faster, you were the cutest thing ever.

“Any opposition to a gala for our next date?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not the biggest fan of crowds but I don’t see why it couldn’t be fun. Is it for the new Captain America thing?”

Bucky smiles, “I’ll text you the details. Drive safe, doll.”

The gala was fun even if a little anxiety inducing when you note the number of people there.

Bucky’s good though, he doesn’t give you a moment alone to feel that anxiety or have anyone come up to you to ask you a million questions.

It’s a veteran gala and Bucky didn’t want to go through that alone because he was getting another medal post Thanos; not that he really wanted it.

That night, as you sat beside him at one of the tables, it was hard to ignore the feel of his hand grasping your ankle and stroking it.

His palm is warm against your skin but you can feel the twitch in his fingers.

“We can leave early if you really don’t want to get it, Bucky.”

He turns to you with a smile, his cheeks a little warm when you meet his eyes. “No, I can handle it, doll.”

You tut, shaking your head. “Yeah but you look like you’re gonna pass out waiting for them to call your name.”

He rolls his eyes, “I do not.” He can actually feel the acid churning in his stomach.

In the end, the ‘medal’ is Bucky partially funding a veteran support group in honor of his friend Sam Wilson, who’s the new Captain America, and Steve Rogers. He much prefers that sort of medal.

It was only after Bucky had gotten you home from the gala that you noticed the slip of paper in your clutch.

It had the name of the diner you and Bucky had gone to a week and a half ago, but on the backside of the paper was his semi messy scrawl.

You looked gorgeous tonight. Purple’s definitely your colour, doll. I know it’s only the second date, but you’re all I think about most days. I wanna see you again, but I know tonight was a lot with all those people. Sleep well, doll. Dream of me if you’d like.

Yours,

James.

That had made you smile so hard your cheeks ached. He signed it with his actual name, not the cute nickname he got so many years ago, his real, government name and that was not something that went unnoticed by you.

Immediately you changed his name in your phone to James with a little heart next to it.

You’re not really sure you’re sold on Bucky’s affections towards you, till the third date when Bucky pulls up to your apartment with another bouquet of flowers, peonies this time in pretty pinks and soft yellows.

“Bucky, these are gorgeous!” You had rushed back into your house to add them to the vase with the other flowers he had dropped off for you on your doorstep last week.

You can hear him chuckling in your doorway as you flit about.

“Was there any traffic?” you asked over the sound of your tap filling the vase.

“Not too much, but it is lunchtime on a Saturday.”

You had mentioned to Bucky a little bit ago that there was a perfect spot in the park near your house for a picnic now that New York had finally warmed up, and the next text you had received was Bucky asking if you had any nut allergies.

It wasn’t your usual date day, but Bucky had pleaded and begged just a little (although he really hadn’t had to), and had even sent you a photo of the most gorgeous picnic blanket and you were agreeing faster than anything.

“I’m ready to go now.” Seeing Bucky there leaning in the archway of your kitchen makes you feel so many things that you can’t help it when you lean up and kiss just under his jaw before walking towards your door after snagging your picnic basket from on the counter.

“Coming, Bucky?”

He only shakes his head, some of his hair falling into his eyes as he follows behind you. You swear you hear him mutter, “Not a shy thing at all,” but you don’t say anything because your nerve has worn off and you actually can’t believe you really kissed his cheek.

Bucky hadn’t spared an expense on your picnic. He had gotten peaches, plums, two different cheeses, apples, grapes (black ones; your favourite) and even a bottle of sparkling wine.

You had brought sandwiches and salt and vinegar potato chips (those became Bucky’s new favourites), a sketchbook and your camera.

“Were picnics something you did a lot?” you ask Bucky as he makes you a plate - crackers, cheese, some of the fruit and half the sandwich you packets.

Bucky squints at you as he slices a wedge of the plum free from the stone. “If it was, would you be jealous, doll?”

You shake your head, some of the peach juice dribbling down your wrist. Bucky’s quick but gentle as he thumbs it away and presses his thumb to his lips. You’re so grateful that his hands aren’t on you to feel how fast your pulse hammers.

“I’m just curious what the dating customs of the 40’s looked like.” It’s a miracle your voice remains even.

Bucky nods like he doesn’t really believe you. “I think I went on one, but there was never really a good time for more.”

You wince, you had forgotten that he’d gotten drafted.

Your reaction makes Bucky laugh, “I’m glad I get to find out if I really like them now though. There’s a lot more to enjoy about picnics now without all the smog.”

His teeth snap through the wedge of the plum before he continues, “I can see my date better, which feels like an incredible plus.”

Damn Bucky’s flirting.

You spend all evening at the park, and it’s so fun because Bucky poses for some of your pictures and then takes some of you and when you pose for a few together and Bucky stares at you there’s a sort of stillness that overcomes you.

His eyes bore into yours, the blue of them stopping you where your finger is poised over the button to snap the photo.

“Take the photo doll,” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours as he reaches up and presses your finger down just before leaning all the way in, pressing your lips together.

Bucky’s quick to take the camera from your hand after, setting it on the blanket and cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss.

It’s not too long, but it’s more than a peck and when he pulls away you can barely open your eyes.

“Was that okay?” Bucky whispers, the hand still cupping your face warm where it rests.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” his laugh rocks you as you press your forehead into his shoulder. “I don’t think you were really frozen in ice all that time, James Barnes.”

Bucky cups the back of your head as his laughs die down. “Whatever you want to believe, honey.”

Bucky gets to your house just after sunset, and you let him walk you to your front door. You don’t really want the date to end, but you’re tired and you have to imagine so is he.

“I had a really nice evening, Bucky.”

He smiles, a hand on your lower back as he stands in front of you. “So did I,” you turn to open the door but he stops you.

“I’ve gotta go out of town for a little bit, so we’re gonna have to rain check next Friday’s date.”

You hold onto the sleeve of his Henley before he can step back, “Is everything alright?”

Bucky nods, “Yeah just some stuff I have to deal with.”

“Winter soldier stuff?” You nearly whisper the words, not wanting to upset Bucky. He only nods with a soft smile. “Be careful okay?”

“You don’t want to be my nurse if I get hurt, doll? That’s harsh.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bucky’s chest aches at your care for him. It’s been a long while since he’s been given that kind of affection.

“I’ll be careful, doll.”

“Good.”

Bucky leans in and presses a kiss just at the corner of your mouth, “Goodnight doll, lock your doors.” He reminds you like you’re not a woman in New York City, but it still makes you smile and your chest goes a little gooey.

Bucky doesn’t move from your doorstep till he hears your locks click into place.

Bucky’s been gone for a week and a half already and you can’t help but miss him.

You’ve been chatting back and forth and you’ve even started sending him songs to listen to. He’s got a very limited list of favourites that you’ve made it your mission to resolve.

You find another note in your handbag when you decided against texting Bucky and cleaned your cupboards instead.

It was in your bag from the picnic date, and you smiled when you noticed his handwriting on another receipt from the grocery where he got the cheese.

I hope you find this when I’m gone and you’re missing me; I know you are, doll, it’s okay.

I miss you too and I haven’t left yet.

When I get back I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Maybe we’ll go somewhere quiet again? Or I saw they’re reopening one of those antique places with all those retro trinkets; I could show what I used to have at home. Show you what I prefer now.

Keep locking your doors, honey. I should send you new flowers, the old ones will be dead soon.

Yours,

James.

Bucky’s very good at these, these little notes that leave you smiling and giddy like a fool.

You pull out your phone, you have to text him now.

I got your note. What was your favourite ‘trinket’?

Bucky answers only three minutes later.

My sister used to have a silver jewellery box that I had the pleasure of filling every month.

You smile at that, he’s always been a provider it seems.

Another chime comes from your phone.

We also had a gramophone that played the clearest music I’ve ever heard.

You roll your eyes.

You’re such an old man.

I’m not offended, doll. A pretty girl I’m seeing told me recently I’m not old at all.

Even miles away he’s got you grinning like an idiot with a racing pulse.

You can’t say anything to that and your thoughts take you to what a perfect gentleman he’s been to you. Bucky opens your doors, drives you home and waits till you get into your house before driving off. You think you might be falling for him, and rapidly.

He’s still gone by Monday and you’re missing him hard, only for the girls you work with to giggle before coming to find you.

“These were dropped for you,” they hand you a huge bouquet of red and white tube roses and a card.

It’s not Bucky’s handwriting but it’s from him,

Sorry I’m still not back, doll. I should just be gone for another day. Don’t miss me too much, yeah? I need a few kisses when I get back to make up for all this time away. I listened to that song you recommended, it was good. How do I make a playlist?

Yours,

James.

The note had you blushing and extremely flustered. Your coworkers noticed it immediately.

“Are you two going steady?”

You regret telling them who you’d been going out with. When they leave, you’re stuck with the realisation of how different Bucky is to the men you’ve dated before.

It’s a small thing, but you hardly think any of them got you flowers as consistently as he does, and you don’t think you’ve ever received such thoughtful bouquets.

You called Bucky when you got home, happy to hear his voice.

“Thank you for the flowers, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome, doll.”

You have the bouquet from today on your bedside table and smile when you spot it after changing into your pajamas.

“You caused quite a scene when they got delivered.”

You can hear the amusement in his words. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, the girls I work with brought them to me. They were very impressed by the size of the bouquet, Barnes.”

“I’m just concerned about what you think of me.” Was his answer and after that you couldn’t get a full sentence out of you.

He’s so open with his feelings towards you it’s scary, it makes your heart race but you also know he’s not just saying it. He means it and that makes you fall just a little more for Bucky.

“You’re sweet.” Is all you can manage, your face heated with a blush.

“Sam and I are finishing this up tonight, so I should be able to see you when we get back.”

You don’t know if you’re reading into his words, but Bucky sounds relieved at the prospect of seeing you soon.

“Isn’t it going to be a day’s long flight?”

“And I can see you right after I land, honey. So long as it’s not midnight or while you’re gonna be sleeping.”

Bucky Barnes isn’t good for your heart with the way he just wholly shows you how much he wants to spend time with you.

“Do you still need help with your playlist?”

He huffs, “Sam showed me. He’s not a good teacher though, was snippy the whole time; you’d think he’d remember I was in ice.”

You laugh, “I’ll show you when you get back, babe.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything about the pet name, but for the rest of the phone call he doesn’t respond unless you use it.

It’s two days before he’s back and Bucky drives straight over to see you.

He’s at your door a few hours after you get home from work, and when you open the door to see him, he’s there with a single rose in his hand and a tired smile on his face.

“Is it possible you got prettier while I was gone?” He leans against your doorway.

“You look dead on your feet, Bucky. Come inside.” you lead him to your sofa, watching him move with heavy but careful steps all the way through your living room.

Bucky’s movements are measured, not a single action wasted as he takes off his boots and socks and detaches his metal arm.

“I really missed you,” he sighs as he lays on your sofa, eyes shut as he takes a long breath.

“I really missed you too,” you brush back some hair from his face. “You could’ve gone home to sleep first, you know?”

Bucky opens his eyes and it takes great effort to do so, the whites of his eyes shot through with streaks of intense red.

“I wanted to see you,” he yawns. “But you’ve trapped me into laying on your sofa.”

You laugh, your fingers still knotted in his hair. “You can take a nap Bucky, or you can sleep the night here. I’m not really excited by the idea of you driving back tired.”

“I won’t doll,” he shuts his eyes again, the feel of your fingers on his scalp lulling him into a peacefulness he’s missed. “Tell me what you got up to while I was gone. I know you weren’t just counting down the days till I got back.”

You roll your eyes as you recount the last two weeks of your life, Bucky’s not even awake to hear what you did on the second day of him being gone.

You cover him up with your throw blanket and dim the lights of your living room. You make the playlist for him while he sleeps, putting all the songs you’ve sent him on the memory stick so he can leave with it.

Bucky doesn’t spend the night, but as he’s leaving he holds your cheek, “I didn’t come with an ulterior motive, just to see you. If you want, we can go have dinner tomorrow. I have something I want to ask you, doll.”

“That’s ominous,” you’re a little nervous by that phrase. No one likes being told that someone has ‘something to ask them’ in a day. There’s anxiety crawling up your chest before Bucky kisses your lips.

“It’s a good question baby, don’t overthink it. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

You grab the memory stick off the table before you could forget, “Here, I put all the songs I’ve sent on here.” Bucky kisses you again.

“You’re an angel,” you steal a kiss before he pulls away. “Lock your doors.”

“Sir yes sir.”

You hear him laugh all the way to his car.

Despite Bucky’s well meaning, ‘Don’t overthink it.’ That’s all you did when you woke up and started sifting through dresses to wear.

You’re ready at six and that makes you even more anxious. There’s too much time to do nothing but sit and overthink it.

You’re working yourself up to outright calling Bucky when there’s a knock at your door.

A quick peek at the clock on your stove let’s you know you’ve been overthinking it for forty five minutes.

When you open the door, Bucky’s standing in front of you in a pretty blue shirt that makes his eyes pop, and black dress pants.

He’s not got flowers this time, but he is holding a box of what you think are chocolates.

“Oh my god,” he breathes as he takes you in. You’re in a pretty pale purple dress, white heels and your hair is down in loose curls. You hadn’t gone for heavy makeup but just enough where there’s purple glitter on your eyelids and your lips are a deep red.

“You look handsome.” You say as you fight the blush creeping up your chest at the way Bucky’ stares at you.

“You look,” he trails off like he really can’t find the right words. “Breathtaking.”

You feel as though the blush explodes in your chest and heats your entire face.

Bucky hands you the box of chocolates, “They’re all dark chocolate.” You smile as you take it; that’s another thing Bucky’s remembered you like.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

You ask as you slip the chocolates into your purse and shut your door.

Bucky smiles as he watches you lock your door before turning to him. Immediately he links his hand with yours.

“We’re going for dinner somewhere nice,” the entire ride to the car Bucky has you talking. About the last book you read, work, if you think about him every night before bed (the last one was just to make you laugh, but the truth is you do.)

“What about you Bucky? Do you think about me before bed?”

You ask as he parks and he turns to you.

“Oh yeah,” that’s all he says before coming out of the car to open your door. “Think about you more than I think about anything else, doll.”

You manage to hold back your question just before dessert, “Can you please ask me? I’m freaking out and I think my heart might explode from the anxiety.”

There’s a laugh that bubbles from you and Bucky tuts.

“Honey,” you press a hand to your chest. Your anxiety really is at an all time high. You have so many questions rattling around your head that Bucky could want to ask you and you may throw up the lovely pasta you just had if he doesn’t ask you soon.

He leans across the table and holds onto your wrist, feeling the erratic beat of your pulse.

“I’ve been torturing you, haven’t I doll?”

You nod as you try to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t mean to,” Bucky’s thumb strokes short lines across your wrist. “I had it all set up to come with dessert but I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“Thanks,” you mutter and he smiles.

“I know we’re only going steady,” that gets a smile out of you. He really is an old man, “but I wanted to ask you if I could be yours? Saying boyfriend makes me feel older so I won’t say it.”

You laugh, letting your head fall on his hand where it holds yours.

“Not the other way around?” You ask and Bucky huffs.

“You’re not property, honey.”

You look up with a smile and Bucky’s smile gets a little brighter. “Yeah you can be mine.”

“C’mere,” he tilts your chin a little higher and kisses you; slow and just long enough for it not to be a full make out. “You really missed out on the whole cheesecake with chocolate drizzle writing.”

He says as he pulls away and you laugh.

“Oh, are they not bringing it anymore?”

Bucky shakes his head, mischief in his eyes. “After you just latched onto me in the middle of their establishment? I don’t know, doll.”

“You’re ridiculous.” They still bring the cheesecake and Bucky feeds you the first bite, and like the flirt and menace he is, he gets a little just to the corner of your mouth.

“Let me get it for you,” and steals another kiss, ‘cleaning it off.’

Bucky Barnes really knows how to court a woman.

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bekkathyst · 4 months ago

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BEKKATHYST 2025 Giveaway!

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Please read thoroughly before entering!

Hello lovely Tumblr folk! It’s that time again- I have a giveaway for you all. 💜

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A $50 gift card that can be used for our online store or Tumblr sales!

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Reblog this post to enter. Likes count as additional entries. No giveaway or spam blogs. If you reblog on a side blog, let me know in the tags what the name of your blog is that you’re following me with.

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spicyspiders · 2 months ago

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with different eyes and no shame

Mark Grayson variant x male reader smut

3.8k words

Stay inside, the text from Mark said.

This had a lot more angst than I expected to write. Warning for smut, bottom male reader, slight bloodplay, slight cum inflation, and the Mark variant being overall rough with the reader. I didn't really have a variant in mind when I was writing this, so any could be thought of when reading :)

Stay inside

The text was only two words, but still managed to send a chill down your spine. An hour later when nothing has happened, you can feel your body slowly relax. Still, you can’t help but look out your window one last time to make sure whatever Mark wanted you to stay inside and avoid has passed.

A part of you felt hysterical as you looked out the window. You weren’t sure if being friends with a superhero and everything that came with that was now catching up with you, or if it was from your brain trying to focus on everything your eyes outside were trying to track.

You hear the sound of a thump in your bedroom, signaling that Mark is here. It was a habit he developed over time you thought was silly, reminding you so much of when you were younger. You hoped Mark would grow out of it, but maybe it was a superhero rule he had that he could only fly through windows when entering homes.

“I have a front door, you know,” you say, swinging your bedroom door open. The sun had gone down by the time Mark had texted and you managed to calm down, making the walk to your bedroom dark, and the state of your bedroom wasn’t any better.

Mark almost looked ominous standing in what little light was left from the day, his back facing the window. Your first clue should have been the color of his suit, but you were too stupid to realize.

“Mark?” You asked, “is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” He questioned back with a chuckle.

“You told me to stay inside,” you answered in confusion, “and is that a new suit?” You asked as Mark slowly turned around, your eyes glued to his seemingly new suit, “did something happen to the one you just got?”

“You worry too much,” Mark responded, still shrouded in the shadows. He stepped out of the darkness slowly, making it known that this wasn’t your Mark, “you both did,” he said, his voice low.

Your heart pounded in your chest, growing faster and faster as Mark came closer, “who are you?” You whispered, backing up slowly.

“I’m Mark,” he responds with a smile.

You continue inching backward, shaking your head, “who are you?” You repeat, your back coming into contact with your wall.

Mark’s smile turns sinister, “I’m Mark,” he says again, “and I already know what you’re thinking, and yes, I’m not your Mark,” he backs you further into the wall, making you hope that you would somehow fall through. But if this Mark was anything like yours, he’d easily be able to follow. “I also know that you’re thinking about running,” he lets out a laugh before he continues, “but I’ll break your fucking legs if you try.”

“Please,” you whisper, turning your face away when Mark’s hands reach out, “don’t hurt me,” you say, closing your hands when you feel his fingers on your face.

“I’d never hurt you,” Mark says, forcefully turning your head to face him.

After moments of tense silence, you open your eyes slowly to look at Mark, his gaze fixed upon you with an unreadable expression.

“I’d never hurt you,” he repeats, “I finally have you again,” he says, his tone matching his soft words, but it doesn’t last. “I won’t lose you,” he growls, his voice dark and full of promise. And with those words, he seals that promise with a kiss.

You weren’t even sure if kiss was the right word to call it, it felt like Mark– this version of Mark was trying to devour you whole. Though he looked and sounded like Mark, you knew this version wasn’t yours, but that didn’t stop the overwhelming rush of emotions.

There was a longing for Mark that had gotten to the point where you didn’t remember when it started, and had gone on for so long, that you didn’t know if it would ever. You had just managed to somehow get it to the point that you were happy.

You loved Mark, and Eve nearly as long as you’d known her, so you wanted them to be happy. There were moments where it could feel bittersweet not only to see the man you had feelings for get with someone else, but to see that other person be someone you also cared about. There were also moments though, ones that had come up much more frequently where you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you were moving on, and hopeful for the future.

You just didn’t think that who you would be moving on with would be another version of who you originally fell for. If moving on was even what you could call it, you weren’t sure if the phrase could be used in situations where it was being forced onto you.

Though you knew this one wasn’t your Mark, your treacherous body still responded like it was. You shuddered at the feel of Mark's tongue pushing its way past your lips, an idea popping into your brain when in his conquest to dominate your mouth, it ran over your teeth. You squash the idea of biting Mark’s tongue seconds after it’s hatched, the image of him doing more than breaking your legs like he promised if you tried to run flashing through your mind.

Tears fall from your eyes when Mark finally pulls away, his eyes opening to then quickly filling with concern. You had spent what felt like hours, maybe even days imagining what your first kiss with Mark would be like, and in moments where you were thinking with your dick and not your brain, it would think of what kisses would be like that were filled with more passion and energy. And though your body was already responding to just the one kiss, the rational part of you was still there to remind you that this wasn’t your Mark.

“It’s okay,” Mark whispered, wiping your tears away, and then kissing up the tracks they left. “I have you,” he said, resting his cheek against yours, the words sounding like he wasn’t just saying them to you, but saying them to himself like he hadn’t quite come to the realization.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, your eyes slipping shut, thinking that if you closed your eyes to it, it would be easier to ignore, “what happened to the me from your universe?” You forced your eyes open, waiting for Mark to respond.

Mark’s face goes stormy and full of emotion before he breaks eye contact, “gone,” he says, his eyes flicking back up. He steps closer, his hands moving down to your shoulders, “taken from me before I realized how I felt,” he said before he pulled your body into his chest in a tight embrace, “I won’t let that happen again.”

You have to force yourself to breathe, trying to calm your racing heart. What takes longer is getting your arms to move. A part of you thinks that if you just give in and give this Mark what he wants, then he’ll leave, but another part of you, bigger than you wanted to admit, responded to the fact that this was probably the closest to getting something you always wanted.

You wrap your arms slowly around Mark, trying to not feel the way your heart broke at the small, wounded noise Mark made. You hated the way you could relate to this Mark, knowing that you could find comfort in each other based on the things you lost and couldn’t have.

Mark pulls you closer, his head going into the space between your neck and shoulder. His nose went beneath the collar of your shirt as he nuzzled the skin he could find. His hands ran up and down your back as his lips came into contact with your skin, much softer than you expected.

You shiver at the feel of his lips on your skin, your body seemingly moving on its own to give Mark more room as you let your head fall back onto the wall. You gasp when his lips kiss softly up your neck and along your jaw, your eyes opening once more when you feel the puff of Mark’s breath on your face.

As Mark’s face slowly inches closer, his eyes flick between yours and your lips. The kiss he pressed to your lips was the complete opposite of the last, but you’re still slow to respond. Once you do, Mark’s hands are on your face to angle the kiss into how he wants it.

Mark’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. It pushes in slowly when you open up seconds later, and this time, you both let out noises of pleasure when his tongue brushes against yours.

Mark lets you pull away from the kiss, his head falling onto your shoulder as you gasp for air. He runs his hands back down your body, going lower than you expect them to when they grab your lower thighs.

He hoists you up, your legs going to wrap around his waist as you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“I have you,” Mark says, his voice light, almost teasingly so. And if this Mark had powers that were anything like your Mark’s, he was completely right. No, you’ve never been flying like William had to know if Mark was able to hold you, but you had seen Mark on the news using his powers, so you had no doubt in your mind that he was able to lift you.

“C’mon!” William had said in the parking lot to the restaurant you had dinner at on your last birthday, “it’s his birthday! You’ve got to take him flying!”

“I don’t want to go flying,” you said to William, “and besides,” you said with a laugh, “I don’t need you asking for me,” you said with another laugh as William pouted.

“Then can you ask him to take me flying?” William asked, you and Mark looking at each other.

“Why would Mark take you flying for his birthday?” Eve asked between laughter.

“Because,” William started, his face going red as he tried to think of a response, and once he did, his eyes lit up, “he told me that for his birthday he wanted Mark to take me flying,” he finished, crossing his arms.

“Did you,” Eve asked, elbowing you softly.

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, “did you?” He asked as he rolled his eyes.

You looked between the three of them, Eve smiling at you, Mark looking unimpressed, and William staring at you with both brows raised as he nodded. “Oh yeah! I did forget that I promised William that I would ask.”

Eve nearly doubled over with laughter, his face nearly going as bright as her hair as Mark swooped William up.

“Where are they going?” Amber asked after she walked up, to-go cup in hand.

It was like this Mark was able to read your mind to know yours had never taken you flying as he floats you the few feet to your bed. You weren’t sure if it counted, but your arms and legs still tightened around him nonetheless.

You landed softly onto the bed, Mark murmuring a soft I’ve got you before his lips were against yours once again. Your legs loosened around Mark, and even as he let out a noise of protest, your feet came to rest on the bed.

Your arms loosened just enough to get one of your hands in Mark’s hair, which was just as soft as you imagined your Mark’s would be. You moaned into Mark’s mouth when he rocked his hips down into yours, your fingers tightening around the strands between your fingers.

Mark pulled away with a growl before he started wrestling his suit off. You had fantasized about this moment more times than you could count after you found out Mark was Invincible. If you were honest, since before then, too. There was just something about skin-tight costumes that got you going. Most of them, of course, being you helping him out of his suit, but now, with how fervently he was going at it, you kept your hands to yourself.

It was almost funny watching him get the top portion off, but you could blame that on the hysterical feeling of this situation feeling as unreal as it did.

You had seen Mark shirtless only a few times before, but this was completely different from the shy glances you managed to peek at.

Mark gave you no choice but to touch his body as he ducked back down into another kiss, your fingers meeting hot skin. There was something dark and powerful underneath Mark’s skin, something that felt so much more different from the other men you’d had in your bed.

You ran your hands up his body, starting from his abs to his upper chest, Mark letting out a soft groan when your hands brushed his nipples.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he growled after he pulled away from the kiss. Ducking back down, he instead went lower to get his mouth against your neck.

I think I have an idea, you opened your mouth to say, but all that came out was a moan when Mark’s teeth sank into your skin. The sound only spurs Mark on as he moves to another spot to leave a trace.

“Mark,” you hiss, unable to contain the next noise you let out as Mark’s teeth sink in deep, breaking the skin.

Mark moans around the skin between his teeth, his tongue running over the skin seconds later. As he laps at the skin, Mark rolls his hips into yours, outright humping you. He pulls back from your neck, meeting your eye as he licks his lips.

You tremble under the dark look he fixes you with, watching as he gets off the bed to get the bottom of his suit down, “take that off,” he commands, “unless you want me to tear it off,” he smirks as he continues on, “I’m fine with either one.”

“Good boy,” he murmurs as you start pulling your clothes off. Once you are fully naked and your clothes are in a pile beside the bed, Mark steps back up to the bed. “Let me look at you,” he says, wrapping a hand around his cock.

You watch the almost hypnotic motion of Mark slowly stroking his cock, licking your lips when you see a pearly bead of precum fall from the head and down onto your floor. You feel your cock give a twitch of interest as it grows hard between your spread legs.

You look back up to Mark watching you, and you quickly look away, knowing you’ve been caught. The look on his face didn’t look angry, though, it was smug and full of heat. “You can look,” he says, “it’s all yours.”

Your head snaps up at the declaration, your cock giving another twitch. Your throat suddenly feels dry when you try and swallow, “does that mean I’m yours?” You croak, your gaze falling from Mark.

Mark lets out a proud laugh, and when you look back up at the sound, you’re met with a faceful of cock. Strong fingers move under your chin to tilt your head up so you meet his eye, “you’ve been mine since I found out you were here, sweetheart,” he says, “now,” he lets go of your face to look around, “where’s your lube?”

You roll over to crawl up the bed, reaching out to grab the handle of your nightstand. Mark chooses the moment you’re balanced on one hand to lay a smack to your ass, catching you off guard.

You’re proud of yourself for not falling face-first into your comforter, and pause from digging through your drawer to turn and glare at Mark.

“Sorry,” he says, his arms crossed over his chest, not looking or sounding sorry at all, “couldn’t help it.”

You toss the lube in Mark’s general direction and try your best not to slam the drawer closed. You laid your head down on your pillows, biting your lip as you most certainly weren’t waiting for Mark to spank you again.

Instead, Mark runs his hands slowly over the globes of your ass, “I mean,” he says as he lifts your hips and gets you onto your knees. “Can you blame me?” He asks as he spreads you open.

He catches you off guard once more as he dives in, licking a broad over your hole. The shock of it punches a sound of surprise from your open mouth as your cock throbs between your legs.

Mark lays a few more broad strokes, occasionally licking over your balls and taint on the way to your hole. You groan when he zeros in, licking over your hole until it’s relaxed enough that his tongue can lick inside.

You moan into your pillow as Mark fucks his tongue inside, his tongue coating your walls with his spit. Mark answers with a moan of his own, the vibration going straight to your now hard cock.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” Mark says as he pulls back, but not before smacking your ass one last time. He bites into the other untouched cheek, his hands coming to grip your hips in an iron-tight grasp. You whimper into the pillow, having no choice but to let Mark bite you.

With a kiss pressed to the spot, Mark finally pulls back. You’re left with an aching spot that you were sure was going to look like the one he made earlier on your neck.

The sound of the lube opening is loud in your ears before it goes quiet once more. Though you were anticipating it, you still jump when the pad of Mark’s lubed fingers runs over your hole. What you always thought would be slow and soft was instead fast and hard, giving you no room to breathe as two of Mark’s fingers sank inside.

You hissed around the burn deep inside, but of course, Mark gave you no time to focus on that either as his fingers found your prostate.

“There we go,” he said, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear how smug he sounded, “gonna break my fingers, baby,” he said, already adding a third finger. “So fuckin’ tight,” he groans as he pushes his fingers deep.

Feeling full already, it’s hard to imagine how his cock was going to feel, but when after a few moments Mark pulled his fingers free, you knew you needed what little time you had to mentally prepare.

Vulgarly, Mark smacks the head of his cock against your stretched hole. You gasp when Mark grabs your ass in his hands, his fingers digging into the bruise he left on one of your cheeks. He takes the time to continue teasing you, this time by squeezing your ass cheeks together and fucking his cock between the tight space.

You turn your head to look back at Mark, “the condom,” you said, whimpering through the pain as Mark squeezed the globes of your ass tighter.

Mark leaned down to lay his body along your back, “thanks for reminding me to throw those away,” he whispered into your ear, feeling his smile on the shell of your ear, “you won’t be needing those anymore,” he said darkly.

With that statement, Mark brought his hips up and pressed the head of his slick cock to your hole. In one steady thrust, Mark bottoms out. His hands lock around your hips, keeping your body tightly pressed to his as his moans of pleasure go from his chest and vibrate through your back.

You turn your head back into the pillow to muffle the sound you made, unknown to your ears whether it was of pleasure or pain. You clench down around the intrusion, the burn of it lighting up your entire body.

You gasp into the pillow, making it hard to respond to the kiss Mark initiates. You weren’t all too sure about the other half that Mark was, but if the way this Mark kissed you taught you anything, it was that he didn’t need to breathe in the same way did.

Maybe it will get better over time. The thought made your cock twitch thinking about already going at it again when the round you were in now hadn’t even really begun.

Mark didn’t seem to mind though as he licked inside your mouth. On his tongue, you tasted the slight remnants of musk, lighting up your tastebuds. Mark pulled back at the same time as his hips did, his head falling onto your shoulder on the thrust back in.

The only space Mark left between your bodies was just enough for him to fuck in and out of your body, your hole soon becoming accustomed to his cock. There was no question as to if your moans were of pleasure or pain minutes later as Mark’s cock rammed into your prostate on each thrust in.

There was no time to chase the pleasure as it left when Mark pulled out, because it was there again and again, shooting sparks across your body. It was building to the end that you quickly felt approaching, feeling as if you weren’t going there, but instead, it was forcing its way to you.

You reached between your legs to wrap your hand around your leaky cock, “that’s it, baby,” Mark said, his lips dragging along your shoulder as he spoke. His pace going too fast to try and match, you stroked your cock to your own messy pace, only taking a few pulls for your body to seize up as you came.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, the pleasure too intense for your body to seemingly handle before blacking out. You came to on your side, Mark’s body spooned against yours.

“Relax,” he hissed, and if he was trying to help, his arms tightening around your body sure didn’t assist as he held you in a nearly too-tight embrace. “That’s it,” he murmured as he felt your body relax.

Mark’s cock still buried inside you, you clenched down around his cock, your own giving a pathetic throb of interest. “How’re you still,” you began to ask, but when Mark’s cock brushed your prostate, you gasped.

“It takes a little while,” he said, pressing his smile into the back of your neck, “can you feel it?” He asked as he ran his hand across your stomach.

You shivered as Mark ran his hand over your stomach. You felt full, but not uncomfortably so.

“Is this what it’s always going to be like?” You asked, grimacing as you felt his cum slip free past Mark’s still-hard cock.

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” he said as he kissed along the back of your neck, but something told you he already knew the answer.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #mark grayson #mark grayson x male reader smut #mark grayson x male reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible x male reader smut #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #invincible variant x reader #invincible variant x male reader #invincible variant x male reader smut

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wintrbears · 12 days ago

Text

All is Fair | JJK

Summary: The Dragons, led by your brother, occupy the East side of the city while the Wolves occupy the West. There is only one rule, and technically, you didn't mean to break it. Stay away from the Wolves.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Namjoon x Seokjin (only by reference)

Genre: Biker Gang AU, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Romeo and Juliet, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Smut, Fluff (if you close one eye and tilt your phone)

Word Count: 20.4k+

Warnings: minor character death, major character death (not jk or oc), murder, graphic suicidal ideation, dead bodies, depression, reference to drunk driving, orphans/orphaning, running away from home, stealing, beatings, punching, kicking, screaming, crying, nightmares, night terrors, stitches, punctured lungs, major physical injuries, facial scars, hospitals, piercings, tattoos, graduate school, libraries, studying, blood, guns/gunshot, knives, gang violence, motorcycles, gay men(?), rivalries, drinking, pet names (baby, pretty, bug (non-romantic)). SMUT: kissing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (she's on bc), cream pie, coming on skin, cum eating/feeding, choking, spanking, spitting, dick riding, missionary, doggy, big dick!jk bc I always strive for accuracy, masturbation (m), grief sex, semi-public sex, ok that's all folks lmk if I missed any.

Author’s Note: I actually cannot believe I didn't write for two years and then pumped out almost 40k words in a single week. My fiancé misses me, you guys. But anyway this fic... oh this fic. It's very heavy but my entire heart is buried in this so I really hope you take the time to read it. Every single character (member?) means so much to me and I hope you come to love it as much as I do. P.S. for plot reasons JK doesn't have any hand tattoos you'll see what I mean. OK pls lmk what you think it makes my heart so happy bye love you :)

When you inevitably fail your exam, no one will be to blame except your brother and his delinquent friends. The noise-canceling headphones he gifted you last Christmas are doing fuck all against the pounding bass of their music downstairs. They’re the expensive kind, too. You know because they still had the security tag on them Christmas morning. He broke it off with pliers before handing them back to you with a dimpled smile.

Finally having enough, you stomp down the stairs to confront your irritability at the source. Not many of them are home tonight. Just Namjoon and his three closest underlings: Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok. He’s the youngest among them and somehow still wound up the leader.

The Dragons, your brother’s notorious motorcycle gang, are far greater in number than the four downstairs. Ten bikers live here at the house with you, but when the gang rides in total there’s about twenty five men. There are some drifters, but no matter the number they are a force to be reckoned with on the road.

“Hey,” you yell over the music.

Namjoon gestures for Hoseok to turn it down and ushers you forward with a wave of his hand.

“What’s up, bug?”

“Can you please keep it down? I’m trying to study,” you answer.

“Oh, we’re sorry,” Seokjin responds. “You were so quiet we forgot you were up there. You’re usually down here annoying us.”

You roll your eyes. The four of them have been friends for the better part of a decade. They’re the only gang members allowed to tease you. If someone else tries it, Namjoon takes their head.

Your brother is extremely protective of you without being controlling. You appreciate his ability to recognize your adulthood while still wanting to keep you from harm. You can attest without a shadow of a doubt that Namjoon will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. His determination to protect you is how you wound up with the Dragons in the first place.

“Why don’t you go over to your study buddy’s house?” Hoseok suggests.

Right… your study buddy they still believe is a woman. The study buddy they assume helps you study instead of fucking you dumb.

“We don’t study at her house. We study at the library.”

This is a partial lie. You “study” at the library, in his car, in the school janitorial closet, and anywhere else he can get his hands on you. Ironically, your grades have never been better. Call it a lack of stress.

“We’ll keep it down, bug,” Namjoon assures you. “Sorry.”

Once you communicate your appreciation, you travel upstairs again to continue studying. You hear the music turn back on, but this time at a much lower volume.

Phone lighting up on your desk, you lean over to see a familiar name. Jungkook’s ears must’ve been ringing because there’s a photo of his finished study guide on your screen. You reply to his text complaining that you’re not even halfway done yet before turning your phone over so you can actually focus.

You didn’t predict meeting someone like Jungkook this year, or ever, really. When this semester of your Master’s program began you weren’t looking for anything, especially not a fuck buddy. You only ask Jungkook to be your study buddy in the first place because he’s the smartest person in your class by a long shot. Coincidentally, you only spend the early months of the semester as study buddies before advancing to fuck buddies. Sometimes you still actually study together, but it’s few and far between.

Despite Jungkook thoroughly wrecking your body every time he touches it, he’s probably the nicest guy you’ve ever met. No matter the hour he’ll answer questions about assignments or explain complex topics you can’t wrap your head around. He lends pencils to strangers and one time you swear you saw him saving a cat from a tree.

You still remember the first time you laid eyes on him.

It’s brutally hot for the first day of class. The city is scorching with record-breaking temperatures even in September. The vents are located at the back of the large classroom so you find an empty desk in the back corner to occupy.

You’re preparing for the first lecture by placing your essentials on the desk and plugging in the charger for your laptop. Distracting yourself with color-coordinating your highlighters, you miss most people entering the room.

Someone upstairs is looking out for you, though, because when you glance at the entrance it’s at the exact moment an absolute Adonis is walking in. He has wavy black hair that just kisses his cheekbones but is longer in the back, huge starry brown eyes, a button nose, and pretty pink lips accompanied by a tiny mole just under the bottom one. He’s wearing a long-sleeve white shirt, baggy jeans, and big black combat boots. To make matters worse he’s sporting black half-rim glasses.

You quickly realize your mistake in gawking at him because he makes eye contact with you, thus giving him permission to take the seat next to you. Precisely as the unspoken rules of classroom etiquette dictate.

He greets you with an amicable bow before plopping in the chair that shares your desk space. Using your peripheral vision you watch him lay out his supplies and open his laptop.

You’re wearing a crop top and are still too warm, so you’re downright shocked at his outfit choice. He doesn’t even roll his sleeves up.

“Are you hot?”

The words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

Your companion looks at you, eyes wide, questioning whether you’re talking to him or not. When he realizes you are, he glances down at his attire. Then he chuckles.

“That’s a bit forward, don’t ya think?”

If you could crawl into a hole and die, you would.

“I didn’t mean it like —”

He’s cutting you off with a wave of his hand as he laughs off the miscommunication. There’s an awkward silence before he continues the conversation.

“To answer your question, yes I am,” he says. “Not like that, though.” He winks at you and it takes everything in you not to audibly moan.

Despite him admitting to being warm he does nothing to remedy it. You’re not his mother nor his girlfriend so you don’t question him.

That’s the last time you speak that day, but over the course of a few weeks you partake in small talk and learn each other’s names.

You initially ask him to study together the week prior to your first exam. He enthusiastically agrees and you settle on a time before exchanging numbers. The study sessions continue on a weekly basis even once you take the exam.

The night your relationship shifts into uncharted territory is one you’ll never forget.

Jungkook is sitting beside you as he copies notes from a PowerPoint lecture into his notebook. The sound of his pencil scribbling on the paper is familiar now. You're absentmindedly scrolling through last week’s readings to find your previous highlights. The professor surprised you today by announcing there would be a quiz on the article and now you need to re-familiarize yourself with it.

Leaning back in the chair with a huff, you cross your arms over your chest. Jungkook peeks at you from behind his hair. He chuckles before setting his pencil down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t wanna do this anymore,” you pout. Jungkook coos at you sarcastically and you hit his arm with your shirt sleeve in protest. “Shut up, nerd.”

“What do you wanna do instead, huh?”

You eye him from your position until you find an answer. Rather than verbally replying you lean forward and gently steal the glasses from his face. You slip them on and glance around the library to see if you can tell the difference.

“Damn you are — oh.”

Any semblance of thought dies within you the second you look at him again. Like an actual comic book character, removing his glasses magically gives him a Clark Kent to Superman-esque makeover. He’s sitting taller with his shoulders back, his doe eyes are sharp and dark, and instead of his normal dorky smile he’s smirking at you. You actually look around again to see if he stood up and someone took his place.

To be frank, you aren’t entirely sure what happens next. One moment you’re at the table together and the next you’re in the Historical Fiction section and Jungkook is on his knees pushing your skirt up and pulling your panties down so he can make out with your cunt.

The worst part is that amongst the chaos, you’re still wearing his fucking glasses. In fact they rest on your nose through the whole ordeal, all the way until you’re coming on his tongue with a cry of his name. He doesn’t take them back until he’s rising to face you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Thus begins your first ever situationship, although that doesn’t seem entirely correct. You and Jungkook aren’t in that weird headspace where neither of you know what the other wants. You mutually agree it’s just sex until someone decides to either move on or move up to boyfriend and girlfriend status.

The latter option is definitely tempting. Jungkook treats you well and fucks you even better. Which are pretty much the only two prerequisites you have for a relationship. But your current dependence on the Dragons prevents you from choosing that route.

There’s a knock on your door which pulls you from your reverie. Namjoon’s face peaks around the corner.

“We’re heading out to deal with some Wolves. Be back soon,” he informs you.

“Be safe,” you reply.

He assures you that he will before shutting your door. Anxiety flickers awake in your stomach and travels through your nervous system. Of all the gang activity that surrounds you, this is the shit you hate the most. Stupid boys doing stupid boy things.

The Dragons occupy all the territory East of the large river which slices your city in half. The territory on the West side of the river is owned by the Wolves. There are straggler factions and out-of-towners who sometimes come into the fold, but they’re nowhere near the size of the two gangs. Naturally, the Dragons and the Wolves despise one another and their history dates back long before Namjoon became the leader. He inherited the rivalry amongst many other responsibilities and now he perpetuates it without knowing why it exists in the first place.

You already know when you see Namjoon tomorrow he’ll have split knuckles and bruises on his skin. It makes you sick to your stomach. This life is far beneath what your brother deserves and what he’s capable of. You want so much more for him and for yourself as well. Getting your Master’s degree is the first step in liberating you both from all the violence and decay which surrounds you. Namjoon risked everything to save you as children, and you vow to return the favor one day, even if it kills you.

Contrary to popular belief, you don’t fail your exam the next day. In fact, you leave the classroom with a spring in your step now that your stressor is behind you.

Jungkook watches you ahead of him with a twinkle of admiration in his eyes as you skip towards the parking lot.

“You know, we’ve been doing this for a while now and I’ve never even been to your place,” you say.

“My place…” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I don’t think you’ll like it very much.”

“Why not?” You stop short and cause Jungkook to barrel into you. “Hold on, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Or wait, do you still live with your mom or something?”

“No, mom’s gone,” he answers.

You turn around to face him when you hear his response. He’s saying it nonchalantly but his eyes are swimming with sadness and maybe even guilt.

“Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you reply. He shakes his head, waving your condolences away before reaching out to pick a fallen leaf from your hair.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he adds. “And no, no girlfriend. Only you, pretty.”

“So then…” You rock back on your heels. “Can I see your place? I promise I’m not judgmental like that. I mean, there’s a reason you’ve never been to my place, either.”

Jungkook thinks it over for a moment as he drags you by the hand towards his car.

“Not yet,” he finally answers. “Soon, hopefully.”

You accept his response albeit a little disappointedly. It’s not even about you getting into his business like that, you’re just sick of the tight spaces the two of you are forced to hook up in. You’ve never even seen the guy fully naked before because you’re always pulling your clothes aside just enough to get the job done.

He denies it but you know he’s got abs under there and you’re dying to finally get your mouth on them.

Sure, you complain, but when he opens his car door for you to climb into his backseat you’re doing so without another word.

You don’t fuck right away because the parking lot is still packed and you’re not trying to catch a charge. Namjoon would kill you before you even get the chance to stand before a judge.

Instead, Jungkook shows you his newest Pokémon game on his Switch and hands it over to you so you can play. You giggle as your adorable water type does its victory dance after demolishing your opponent. Jungkook watches over your shoulder and directs you when to block and which attacks to use. Somehow, it all feels more intimate than when his cock is in your mouth.

Which is precisely where you two end up about an hour later when the surrounding cars have all left.

Jungkook’s backseat isn’t big enough for you to kneel on the floorboards so he’s lounging across the seats with you kneeling between his legs. You honestly prefer this position because the leather is far more forgiving to your knees than the carpet. His pants and boxers are around his thighs as you bob your head up and down his beautifully large and veiny cock.

Your man is a head pusher through and through and so you welcome the familiar feeling of his fingers against your scalp as he guides you deeper until your nose is brushing his pelvis. He doesn’t force you down around him or fuck his hips into you. The grasp on your hair is moreso for control and because he loves to feel you while you pleasure him.

You gag when his tip touches the back of your throat and you stay there for a moment, letting him feel you swallow around him before returning to his tip and swirling your tongue around it. Keeping your tongue out so it caresses the underside while you move up and down, you continue your movements at a steady pace.

Jungkook groans, his head hitting the window with a dull thud.

“Oh, pretty, you have no idea the things you do to me,” he praises. He uses his grip on you to make you look at him. You moan around his cock when your eyes meet and he yanks on your hair in appreciation. “S’fucking good.”

This man loves a good blowjob and you love to please him. Every time you’re on your knees for him he praises and worships you and your sweet mouth for the euphoria they bring him. He tastes delicious on your tongue and if not for your human need to inhale, you would go all night.

It only takes a couple more messy slides of your tongue down his shaft and your hand playing with his balls before he’s coming down your throat in thick, hot spurts of white. You swallow every last drop, continuing to move your mouth from his head to the base, before finally coming up for some much needed air.

Sitting back on your heels, you place your hands in the space between your knees and bat your eyelashes at him. You know he likes it when you look all innocent despite the nasty things you do together. If things were different, if you were able to be with him in the confines of a bedroom and savor your time together, you’d put on a pretty white set with bows all over just to drive him crazy.

Jungkook clocks your behavior with a tilt of his head, his tongue pushing against his cheek before he yanks you back and flips you over so your ass is facing him. His hand slowly traverses your back before stopping between your shoulder blades to push your face into the leather. You arch your back for him and wiggle your ass to really get him going. You can’t see him anymore but you hear the fond, deep chuckle. He pulls down your tights and panties in one go before flipping your skirt up so he can see you properly.

He grabs your ass in his big hands and pulls your cheeks apart to spit on your hole. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of it dripping down your folds. Hips pushing back against his hands, Jungkook just laughs at your neediness before slapping your ass.

“Oh fuck,” you curse.

He tsks at you disapprovingly.

“You that cock drunk, pretty? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he says.

“I know,” you say through gritted teeth.

He bends down to lay across your back and bites on your earlobe before soothing it with his tongue.

“C’mon, baby. You know I always take care of you.”

He doesn’t allow you to reply before he’s thrusting his cock in and nudging his head against your cervix. Your hands clutch desperately at his seats, fingernails making indentations in the leather, as he rears back before doing it all over again. This man makes you fucking delirious and you wonder if you’ll ever get enough. Lord knows no other man will ever successfully replicate the pleasure he provides you.

Jungkook’s pace is relentless and steadfast and it isn’t long before the friction of his cock sinking in and out of your walls brings you to a climax. He’s an overachiever, though, and he doesn’t let up even as he feels your pussy pulsating around him as you come. He soldiers on, tilting your hips to make you arch even further and send his cock deeper inside you. You feel him in your stomach and it has you drooling where your face is crushed against the seat.

You pathetically moan out a sound that closely resembles his name as he abuses your hole.

Your next orgasm hits you much faster, riding the wave of your first to bring stars to your eyes yet again. Your cunt squeezes Jungkook impossibly tight when you come and it causes him to shoot his load inside you and stuff you full of him. This man’s cock is too good to ever be obstructed by a plastic barrier. You’re on birth control and neither of you sleep with anyone but each other, so raw it is.

When you exit the car to move to the front seat, the stars have appeared in the sky. Jungkook drives you home, or what he believes is your home, and bids you goodnight. Once his car is out of sight, you pivot and walk the familiar route to your actual house.

It’s normal for you to arrive home this late, even before you met Jungkook. Namjoon never questions where you’ve been or you were with, which you appreciate. He understands you need independence and will contact him if you’re ever in trouble. He doesn’t need to study your every move when he only has one rule for you, anyway: stay away from the Wolves.

The next day you're lounging in the living room with your ankles crossed where they rest over the arm of a chair. You’re reading for a different class than the one you share with Jungkook, trying to get the assignment done now so you can enjoy your night.

Your peace and quiet is disturbed when Namjoon walks in looking supremely pissed off. His jaw is clenched and since his hair is pushed back you can see the veins popping out in his forehead.

“Joonie?” You call for him as you sit up. “What’s going on?”

“Fucking Wolves,” he growls. He paces back and forth a couple times before stopping in front of you. “We’re meeting at the river tonight. You need to come.”

“Why?”

“Because word on the street is they’re going to use the meet-up as a distraction to raid the house,” he answers. “I need you with me so I know you’re safe.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to call off the meet-up?” You argue.

“No. I want them to come. So I can rip them to fucking shreds and send those assholes a message,” he explains.

You have no reason or room to question him, so you head upstairs to change. Whenever you’re going to be in the presence of gang members, whether Dragons or Wolves, Namjoon prefers you dress a bit tougher than your normal girly outfits. He knows these men and the way they think, so anything, no matter how small, to show them you mean business is a good thing.

Throwing on cargo pants, combat boots, and a leather jacket over your t-shirt, you use the darker half of your eyeshadow palette and put your hair up. All for show.

You’re exiting the house as the sun sinks behind the clouds. Namjoon hands you the extra helmet before swinging his leg over his bike. He watches you put it on and adjust the strap before he slaps your eye shield down with a laugh. You shove his arm before swinging your leg over and joining him on the motorcycle.

The familiar thunderous sound of the Dragon’s motorcycles coming to life is deafening even through the helmet. It’s about fifteen bikes in total and the remaining gang members will guard the house and catch any Wolves trying to break in.

Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok are directly behind you and Namjoon. One by one they signal to your brother they’re ready to go. You adjust your placement by scooting closer to your brother’s warmth and wrapping your arms around his middle. Your fingers twist around the zipper of his open leather jacket to hold onto him. The engine roars to life and you feel the bike kick beneath you as it rears to go.

“Good?” He asks.

“Ready as ever,” you confirm.

Kicking up the stand with his heel, he signals with his hand before leading the bikers away from the house and onto the dark pavement of the road. The wind sweeps over your bodies in waves as Namjoon speeds down the backstreets leading into the city.

You don’t ride much anymore, but whenever you do it’s always exhilarating. The heat of the bike beneath your legs, your brother’s comforting presence in front of you, and the air wiping around you as it nips at your clothes. Tipping to the right along with Namjoon as he takes a tight corner, you watch as the city grows closer. The monumental buildings and yellow lights along the river make it look beautiful and more peaceful than you know it is.

When you reach the river, the Wolves are already there waiting. The rival gang members lounge on their parked motorcycles as they speak to one another. It can’t be all of them, since you know their numbers closely rival your own, and there aren't more than twelve here. It pisses you off when you realize they really are planning to raid the house tonight. If you find out a Wolf was in your room there will be hell to pay.

Namjoon kills the engine and removes his helmet, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. You follow suit and step off the bike as he pushes the stand back down. Your brother shoots you a look you already know means “stay close to me.”

The agreed upon location is just outside an abandoned warehouse where everything in sight is slowly deteriorating. The road has gigantic potholes and cracks and if you go close enough to the water some of the gravel has already caved in and is eroding. The two gangs congregate near the water’s edge where it laps against the shore and sprays water onto the road.

When the dust settles, Namjoon stands ahead of his gang where he is toe-to-toe with the Wolves’ leader, Bangchan. You move quietly through the rows of Dragons until you’re off to the left, farthest from the water. The position hides you enough to avoid unwanted attention but is still close enough to Namjoon in case of an emergency. Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand at the back and sides, respectively, creating an invisible wall of your brother’s closest allies.

Your eyes maneuver over the crowd of Wolves one at a time. Without their leather biker jackets which bear the insignia of each group, it would be impossible to tell them apart. They’re just a bunch of boys pretending to be men.

None of them particularly stand out to you except —

Head whipping back for a double take, the movement is so quick your ponytail snaps harshly against your skin. Your eyes slowly open wide, your mouth dropping open just enough for a sharp intake of air. Because amongst the crowd of Wolves, off to the left next to a shorter blonde guy is…

There’s no way.

He certainly looks like Jungkook. His hair is falling down in soft waves just like Jungkook’s does and his unmistakable doe eyes are front and center without his glasses on. But this guy has a lip piercing and eyebrow piercing. His ears are decorated with pretty silver hoops and a dangling chain. The doppelganger is wearing a navy blue cut off, which reveals to your eyes that his entire arm, from wrist to shoulder, is covered in tattoos. Dark, colorful, intricate tattoos that look like they took years to build into the sleeve it is now. This can’t be the reason Jungkook only ever wears long sleeves and weirdly refuses to ever roll them up… can it?

You squint to make sure you’re seeing him correctly in the dim light. Jungkook must have a twin he never told you about, right?

But no, that isn’t the answer, because his eyes land on you and widen dramatically. His mouth drops open before it snaps shut and his jaw clenches. From across the concrete where you stand you can see how his entire body is taut with tension.

What. The. Fuck.

The blonde guy next to him notices the change in the air, nudging him with his elbow. Jungkook shoots him a hard glance before returning his gaze to you.

Part of you wants to cry, and part of you wants to scream. All of you wants to run to him and demand an answer. This guy is a straight A graduate student. What the hell is he doing running around with a bunch of delinquent motorcycle gang members?

The sound of your brother’s voice steals your attention away.

“That’s not what we do here,” he says to Chan. You’re unsure what it’s in response to.

“Hmm,” the man opposite him muses. “No I guess not, but you bring your girl around? That’s a little dangerous, don’t you think?”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks and his teeth grind together at the mention of you, but he hides it well. You only notice the movement because you know what every tick and twitch of his means.

“Not my girl,” he corrects.

“Oh that’s right, I heard you have a baby sister,” he replies. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Your eyebrows lift when he calls out to you, but you know better.

“Don’t speak to her,” Namjoon responds in your stead.

When you glance at Jungkook again he looks irrevocably angry, a deep frown messing with his pretty features. His fellow Wolf seems concerned at his mysterious attitude.

Right now, you’re telepathically begging Jungkook to make eye contact again. To offer some explanation even with just his eyes. Sure, you don’t know much about each other’s lives outside of school but the feeling of betrayal slinks under your skin nonetheless. Mostly because of the fucking tattoo sleeve he’s been hiding from you.

His eyes do eventually meet yours, but his expression is cold. Is he upset at you for keeping this part of your life from him, too?

The low grumble of taunts and heckles from both gangs indicates their playtime is over. When you look across the street, Jungkook is already climbing on his bike and putting on his helmet. You know without uncertainty now that it is in fact Jungkook, since a large purple “JK” emblem is painted onto his helmet.

Namjoon is quick to gesture you over to him. Your eyes meet Bangchan’s as you walk to the bike, and it disgusts you how he drinks you up and undresses you with his eyes when you pass by.

You scoff before getting back into position behind your brother and securing your helmet in place.

Jungkook is fucking reeling. He barely waits for the rest of his gang to peel away on their bikes before he’s taking off down the street. Jimin follows close behind him, the older biker probably still wondering what the fuck is going on.

Rides are normally Jungkook’s way of clearing his head, but tonight all he can think and feel is his blood pumping with adrenaline. You are the last person he ever expected to be involved with a gang. It’s almost enough to make him laugh; all you wear are sexy little skirts and shirts with cartoon characters on them. You’re girly and adorable and should be spending your time at the mall, not in the underbelly of this messed up city. Although, if your involvement begins and ends with your brother, he imagines you don’t have much choice.

Jungkook makes it back to the house in record time, leaving everyone else in the dust. He is quick to cut the engine of his bike and toss his helmet aside so he can get inside. His hands run through his hair over and over as he trudges into the house, pulling at the ends as he grits his teeth.

The door slams shut behind him and he yells into the air with his head thrown back. Taehyung is rounding the corner from the kitchen when he hears it. He should be at the Dragon’s Lair right now ransacking the place, but Chan called it off when he found out the Dragons knew what they were planning.

“Uh, you good?”

“No,” Jungkook sneers. “No, I’m not fucking good, Tae.”

Taehyung is about to probe him with more questions when Jimin flies through the door.

“What the fuck was that, kid?” Jimin sets his helmet down on the table and walks over.

“You guys remember the girl I was telling you about?” He asks. They both nod. “Yeah, well. She’s the leader of the Dragons fucking little sister.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing sticking your dick in someone involved with the Dragons?” Taehyung accuses.

“I didn’t know, Tae! I didn’t know until I saw her at the meet-up tonight,” Jungkook explains.

“And she saw you?” Jimin asks.

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook laughs incredulously. “She looked shocked as hell and like she was about to cry.”

Taehyung and Jimin share a look while Jungkook practically rips his hair out from how much he’s combing his fingers through it.

“You know you… can’t see her anymore, right?” Jimin poses the question cautiously. “If Kim Namjoon ever found out you’ve laid a finger on her he will fucking end you.”

“I know,” Jungkook grunts out. “I fucking know, Jimin.” Jungkook paces the room a couple times. “Fuck!” He slaps his hands against his face before groaning into them.

“I mean, I know the pussy was good but it will be fine, right? It’s not like you were dating her,” Taehyung adds.

Jungkook just glares at him from between his fingers. He doesn’t think he can talk about this anymore without losing his goddamn mind. He tells them goodnight without any further explanation before trudging down the stairs.

He slams his door and chucks his leather jacket on a chair once he’s in the confines of his bedroom. He wants to scream again, but he doesn’t, tries to take deep breaths instead. The air feels thick and his shirt is suddenly too tight.

His head is pounding with a headache that just sounds like you, you, you.

The same you who is always on his mind, day or night. The girl he never rushes when you study together because he likes to watch the gears turn in your pretty little head. The girl he admires from his periphery as you doodle in your notebook. You, who he wants to kiss more than anything but he doesn’t because he’s terrified of scaring you away.

Jungkook falls to his bed and covers his face with his hands. He’s in pure, unadulterated agony. His knuckles press into his eyelids as he groans. Lately, he’s been picturing so much for you and him. He daydreams about holding your hand and taking you out on dates and making love to you in his bed. It feels like there’s so much potential now shot in the face and gone in an instant.

He knows he can’t continue on with you. It would be dangerous and reckless. Yet he wants to, he wants to so badly he can feel the need in his bones.

He punches his pillow once, twice, and then sits up. He shakes his head as if that could dispel his thoughts of you. No, nothing will ever bring him to forget your brilliant smile, your sparkling eyes, your soft skin. Or the way you moan, whimper, and cry when he’s making you come and fucking you nice and deep. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fuck someone who isn’t you again. No, you’ve completely and utterly ruined his body and mind.

“God fucking dammit, Y/N,” he groans into his hands.

He rips his shirt off over his head before falling back again. His chest is hot with anxiety and his nerves crackle with fear of the unknown. His heartbeat is thumping like a beast in a cage.

Jungkook decides to let his frustration out in the best way he knows how. He kicks his pants off and pulls his boxers down, spitting into his hand to lube himself. A sigh of relief breaks from his chest as soon as he feels his hand around his cock.

He’s not hard yet, not even close. But it’s stupidly easy how fast he gets his blood rushing down to his cock by merely thinking of you. The memory of your voice alone is enough to make him throb.

You looked so gorgeous tonight he thought he was going to totally lose it when he first saw you. The smokey makeup and ponytail were a first for him. He loves the way you look normally, but your sultry eyes and grungy outfit made him want to do nasty fucking things to you. If he could've, he would've bent you over his bike and took you right there in front of everyone. Your goddamn brother included.

His hand falls into a familiar rhythm as he strokes himself. He grunts when his thumb presses down on his head and swipes his precum across it. The rough skin of his hand is nothing compared to your mouth or pussy, but it’s enough to satiate him for now.

“Oh, pretty,” he moans into the air.

His mind conjures images of you for his pleasure. Just yesterday when you were on your knees for him and the other week when he fucked you against the rattling bookshelves of the library. Finally, the first time he ate you out and you cried his name into your hand to keep yourself quiet. You were wearing his glasses that night and he remembers thinking even then that you’d be the end of him.

“My baby.”

Jungkook is coming all over himself before he knows it. He grunts and pants as he fucks himself through his orgasm. Your name leaves his lips in a desperate huff as he finally lets go of his cock and wipes his hand on a nearby towel.

There’s two days before he’ll see you again in class. Jungkook has two days to decide whether or not he’s willing to go up against Dragon fire for you.

Your leg bounces anxiously beneath the desk as you wait for Jungkook to enter the classroom. It’s been two days since you found out he’s a Wolf and your mind has done nothing but spiral. You’re unsure how to feel or even what you have the right to feel.

Is it technically a betrayal when neither of you knew about one another? It’s not like you asked him if he happens to be affiliated with any gangs. You should’ve. You freaking should’ve because now it’s biting you in the ass.

When he does finally enter, he looks like the normal Jungkook again. No piercings. Tattoos covered. Sexy nerd glasses on. It pisses you off more than it should.

He doesn’t say anything to you as he takes his seat and you don’t dare to steal a glance at him. The two of you move in tension-thick silence before the professor starts the class.

It’s a grueling hour and a half as you refrain from looking over or touching him. Normally, he forces his leg up against yours until you finally give in and play footsie with him. If not that, you gently graze his arm up and down, absentmindedly, as the professor drones on about whatever topic he’s covering that day.

Class ends as your professor erases the chalkboard behind him. You stand abruptly and speed walk out of the room. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, then you won’t talk to him. It’s simple, and you pretend your heart isn’t shattering in your chest.

The call of your name stops you in your tracks. When you look back, Jungkook is jogging after you. When he reaches you, he stands at an awkwardly long distance away. Your eyebrows lift and you gesture with your hand for him to get on with it.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t reply, just turn on your heel and walk in the opposite direction. That is, the direction of the parking lot. He follows behind but leaves an obnoxious amount of space. It’s infuriating how his obvious respect for your boundaries gives you butterflies. He unlocks his car with a click and you aggressively plop down in the front seat. Making a show of crossing your arms over your chest and flipping your hair from your eyes.

Jungkook slides into the driver’s side with ease and turns on the heat before turning towards you. You look at him expectantly but he gestures for you to start.

“You’re in a gang,” you state matter-of-factly. “You have tattoos, an entire sleeve, I might add. You have piercings. You’re a fucking Wolf.”

Jungkook nods, licking his lip before he responds.

“That’s all true, yeah,” he says.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” You finally face him. “You’re a graduate student with your entire life ahead of you. What are you doing running around with those losers?” You groan in frustration. “I mean, you’re like a delinquent Hannah Montana or some shit.”

Jungkook smiles at that. He does a once over of your face before inhaling.

“When my parents died I didn’t have anywhere to go. I was already 18. I grew up with Jimin and he offered me a place to stay at the Wolf’s Den. Rest is history,” he explains. You watch his eyes as he tells his story. “I didn’t plan on going to college. I barely passed high school, anyway. But my parents left me money and put instructions in their will that it was to go to my schooling. I couldn’t let it go to waste. Couldn’t let them down.”

Your hand is grabbing his before you register yourself doing it. Rolling up his shirtsleeve to his elbow, you finally reveal his tattoos before your own eyes. Your fingers trace the intricate details of the artwork. He grabs your wrist in return and you feel his hand shaking.

“How did they die?”

“Drunk driver,” he answers.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. You pull his shirt back down and lace your fingers with his. “But I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he admits.

You take his face in your hand and force him to look at you.

“Jungkook, you're the top of our class. You can be anything you want to be or do anything you want to do.” you say. “If that’s not something to be proud of, I’m not sure what is.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not leading anywhere after this,” he replies.

“Why not? Do you seriously want to be involved in this stuff forever? The violence and the rivalries and all the bullshit,” you ask as your voice raises.

“I’ve never known a life other than this, Y/N! The Wolves are my family. I don’t have anyone else,” he matches your volume.

You pull away from him with a huff. You’re not sure why you’re so determined to convince him to do something more with his life. But if you have to guess, you imagine it’s because you’re trying and failing to do so yourself.

“You have me,” you admit quietly into the air between you. It’s a weighted confession. A piece of your true feelings on display for him to see.

Jungkook’s hand cradles your jaw and he looks at you so adoringly that you want to shy away. His thumb is brushing back and forth across your cheekbone. It’s the most gentle affection he’s ever shown you.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I have you.”

He’s kissing you before you even register it. You moan happily against his lips as they move delicately across your own. Jungkook usually handles you like wants to break you, but the way he kisses is the exact opposite. His mouth and his warmth are mending things he wasn’t the one to break. Your hands snake around his neck to pull him closer and he moans when your fingers thread through his hair.

It’s only your first kiss even after all the time you’ve spent together. It’s magical and romantic and you never want it to end.

Jungkook grabs you by the waist to pull you into his lap. Your back hits the steering wheel and the horn honks. You giggle into each other’s mouths but never once stop kissing. You’re both smiling and it causes your teeth to clash, but not even that stops you.

Jungkook deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth. It tangles with your own as he pulls on the hair trapped between his fingers.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he admits against your lips. “Your brother… he’ll kill me.”

“Then why are you?” You murmur before trailing kisses across his sharp jaw.

“Because I want you too bad to stay away,” he answers. “I want you all the time, baby.”

Your lips meet his again and the kiss grows desperate. Shifting in his lap to move closer, you run your hands up and down the planes of his chest.

“You have me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you reveal.

He pulls back with a shake of his head.

“Not just like this. Not just sex. I want movie dates and sleepless nights. I want to hold your hand and take you out to dinner. I want all of you, Y/N.” He pushes your hair from your face. His eyes are brimming with adoration and melancholy. “But I don’t know how to do that when you are who you are.”

Your hands grip his shirt as your head falls against his chest. You release a shaky exhale as your mind shuffles through the millions of emotions in your head. It settles on sorrow. Jungkook holds you close to him, cradling you in his arms.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you confess. “I care about you so much.”

You feel Jungkook pressing a kiss to your hair and it makes you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. He’s everything you could ever want and yet nothing you can ever have.

“I care about you, too, pretty,” he whispers. “So, so much.”

“If this is the last time…” your voice trails off, but Jungkook understands.

He maneuvers you over him and works to move both your clothes out of the way. All while kissing you again and again anywhere he can reach. Your lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, chin. He’s trying to savor this and commit it to memory before it’s gone forever. Before you’re gone.

His fingers move along your slit, gathering your wetness before bringing it up to your clit. You moan into his mouth and buck your hips against his hand. He expertly massages your pussy in a way only he knows how until you’re wet enough to take him.

Jungkook stops kissing you momentarily so he can see what he’s doing when he lines himself up. His cock enters you slowly, but you can feel every ridge and curve of him as you sink down deeper into his lap. He kisses your neck as you begin to bounce on him. Your nails bite into his skin as you use his shoulders for leverage.

It doesn’t take long for you both to come, Jungkook’s seed warming you from the inside and bringing forth your own orgasm. The entire time you never once stop kissing, because you’re making up for lost time and saying goodbye all at once.

Except the goodbye never comes. There’s an attempt, and you go one time seeing each other without hooking up, but that’s the only time. The next time you’re in class together, almost the very second it ends, Jungkook is pushing you into an empty classroom. He kisses you until you can’t see straight, then eats you out and fucks you on the professor’s desk. After that, you both realize you’re too weak for each other to ever stay away.

Things go on like that for a while, a few months at most. You don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room when you’re together. Just touch and kiss each other to your heart's content like it isn’t the most dangerous game you’ll ever play.

The realization that Namjoon is aware of your entanglements comes after he suggests a ride together down to the bay, a familiar place you used to go as teenagers. You don’t question it because it’s been a while since you’ve spent some real time together and your brother is a bigger softie than anyone is allowed to know.

You ride along the shoreline together before he stops the bike in the middle of some abandoned buildings a few yards from the bay. Ships are docking for the night and some children play around the rocky shore with their parents close by.

“Aren’t we going over there?” You ask, pointing to the usual spot.

Namjoon shakes his head.

“Gotta show you something first,” he tells you.

Taking your hand, he leads you towards one of the buildings. You watch him quizzically as he pries open one of the rusted doors and holds it open for you. He stands back to allow you to take in the scene.

You don’t realize it’s him at first because his head is down. All you notice is two Dragon lackeys holding someone taut between them as they wait for instruction at the center of the room. But then he pushes against their restraints, grunting and tugging on their arms as hard as he can and you gasp in horror.

You’re running to him before you can think twice. Your hands instinctively reach out for his face, lifting it so you can see him properly. He already has a swollen black eye and a busted lip.

Your pupils shake as tears form in your eyes.

“Let him go,” you command.

Namjoon walks in slowly and takes his time examining the scene before him. Maybe this is a test to see if the rumor he heard was true. Clearly, you failed.

“Can’t do that, bug,” Namjoon says from behind you. “Wolves who touch what doesn’t belong to them pay the price.”

“It’s not like that, Joonie,” you snap. You push some of Jungkook’s hair away from his face. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing giving him air to breathe. You shake your head, hoping he can read your mind that is screaming I’m sorry.

“What’s it like then?” Namjoon crosses his arms across his chest.

“He’s in my graduate class. I didn’t even know he was a Wolf at first,” you say.

Namjoon steps forward so he’s next to you and tugs on your arms so you let go of Jungkook. You take a tentative step away, not recognizing the look in your brother’s eyes.

“Hmm, and when you found out… what did you do?”

“I…”

“When you found out the man you’d been sleeping with was a goddamn fucking Wolf, what did you do, Y/N?” He shouts.

He’s never spoken to you like this. Has never even raised his voice at you. You don’t have an answer for him. You can’t look him in the eye and admit you willingly betrayed him.

Namjoon sneers at your silence. He motions for the men to drop Jungkook and he falls to his knees with a grunt. Your body involuntarily steps towards him until Namjoon shoots you a murderous glare.

Jungkook looks up at the leader of the Dragons from where he kneels before him. You can’t see his expression, but you can tell from his body language he’s resigned to his fate.

Your brother throws a punch to Jungkook’s face and it connects with a crack. You can’t stop yourself from looking away and snapping your eyes shut. Jungkook spits out blood before Namjoon is forcing him by the jaw to look up at him again.

“You really thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?” Namjoon punches him in the same spot again and you bury your face in your hands.

Your brother is relentless in his assault. He just punches and punches until his knuckles split and Jungkook’s face is covered in blood and open wounds. You don’t look up. Your head is too heavy with the guilt to even attempt it.

You’re sobbing into your hands as you listen to the bone-crushing noise. It repeats and repeats like Satan’s broken record. You’re completely helpless to do anything but stand by in terror.

Namjoon lets go of where he’s holding him by his shirt and Jungkook immediately falls over, catching himself with his hands as he pants and tries to inhale through his busted nose and mouth.

Instantly, you’re on your knees in front of him, cradling his head to your chest as you try to wipe the blood with your shirt.

Jungkook groans into you, his hands weakly coming around your waist to hold onto you. You’re crying so hard you can barely see straight, but you force yourself to do anything you can to help him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook moans against your shirt and you bend your head to kiss his hair. “S’okay.” His words only bring forth more tears.

“No, it’s not,” you sob.

Namjoon pulls you away from him by your arm before nodding at the two men. The Dragons begin to kick and punch Jungkook in his ribs, chest, and stomach. It only takes a few hits before Jungkook’s weight gives out and he crashes to the floor. They continue relentlessly.

“No! No, please!” You turn towards your brother while still on your knees. The sound of Jungkook being beaten is piercing your eardrums and throwing off your equilibrium. “Please, Joonie, make them stop.” You grab onto your brother’s legs and sob against him. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just stop hurting him.”

Namjoon forces your head up. He looks so disgusted at your pathetic display of affection for someone he’s raised you to hate.

“Why should I?” His voice is pure venom.

“Because… because I love him, Namjoon,” you admit for the first time out loud.

Your brother’s eyes turn razor sharp. He gazes towards where his men are still having their fill with Jungkook’s battered body.

“Stop,” he orders them. The room goes eerily quiet. Your heart only continues beating because you can hear Jungkook wheezing out breath. He’s still alive. That’s all that matters. “I’ll stop if you swear to me you’ll never see or speak to him ever again.”

“I swear, Namjoon,” you reply without missing a beat.

“If you disobey me,” he threatens. “I won’t have a choice, do you understand?” You nod. “Say you understand, Y/N.”

“I understand,” you shout back.

He steps away from you and you collapse onto your hands. Grabbing you by the shoulder he yanks you up and orders his men to leave first. You don’t look back as he drags you from the warehouse and shuts the door behind him.

When you return home, you run upstairs to the safety of your bedroom. Cradling your phone in your shaky hands, you find the number Jungkook input for emergencies only. Namjoon deleted Jungkook’s contact from your phone as soon as you left the warehouse, but he doesn't know you have a different Wolf’s number, too.

The phone rings three times before someone answers.

“Hello?” You’ve never heard the voice on the other end before.

“Is this Jimin?”

“Who’s asking?” He sounds rightfully suspicious.

“Listen, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but you have to go to the warehouse district by the bay. Jungkook he’s… he’s hurt really bad, okay? He needs your help,” you explain through fresh tears. “Please, you have to help him.”

“Is this who I think it is?”

“Please, Jimin. He’s in the building with the blue door and green-tinted windows,” you tell him. “Hurry.”

You cut the line before he can ask you anything further. The only thing you can do is fall into your bed and wail as you pray his friends make it in time.

Jungkook can’t move from his spot on the cold concrete floor. He tries; tries using his hands to pull himself up but he just falls back with a thump. His breath is coming out of him in thin wheezes and every time he inhales he feels a sharp tug as his lungs. He knows he’ll die here if someone doesn’t find him, which is highly unlikely.

Despite his injuries causing every nerve ending in his body to sizzle and burn, all he can think about is you. Your sobs and pleas and how quiet your voice was when you admitted you love him. It’s pathetic how undeniably happy he was in that moment even as his lungs were caving in and his ribs were splintering.

You love him enough to let him go. Jungkook doesn’t know if he himself is that strong. If in your place he would be able to swear the same way you did. He hopes so, that somehow a piece of your virtue has rubbed off on him through your time together.

He hears the door creak open and his first thought is that Namjoon sent his goons back to finish the job. But then he’s being lifted from the floor and familiar voices filter in through his waning consciousness.

“Fuck, kid,” Taehyung curses as he rolls Jungkook over to examine his injuries. “What did you get yourself into?”

Jungkook grasps at his side as the pain splinters across his back and chest. The pain is scalding and it radiates across his entire body in waves that threaten to pull him under.

“Is he breathing?” Jimin’s voice rings out.

“Yeah. His eyes aren’t open, though. Don’t know if he even can with how bad his face is,” Taehyung explains to his companion.

Jimin curses when he sees his younger friend’s condition. He has to look away for a moment, unable to tolerate seeing his little brother like this.

“I’ll fucking kill those bastards,” he grits his teeth, sneering.

“No, you won’t,” Taehyung sighs. “This is penance. Jungkook is lucky he’s alive right now.”

The two men end their conversation to help Jungkook up from the floor. It isn’t easy. There’s blood everywhere and Jungkook screams in agony as they jostle his broken body around to carry him. He’s heavier than both of them combined and if it weren’t for Taehyung’s recent time spent at the gym, it would be physically impossible.

Taehyung ends up carrying him back to back, with Jungkook lying as flat as possible while Taehyung takes slow, heavy steps towards the door. Jimin carries his feet gently behind them since their similar heights leave the bottom half of Jungkook’s legs dragging on the floor.

Somehow, they make it out and get him into the backseat of the car where they’ve laid towels and sheets down to soak up the blood. Jungkook groans endlessly as the car flies through the city streets towards the hospital.

His friends know he has an emergency fund set up by his parents they can use to pay for his admission. If he didn’t, his fate would be up to whatever member of their gang has the most medical experience.

Jungkook spends the next two weeks in the hospital. By the time he’s discharged he still can’t open his left eye, has more than 100 stitches, and is wrapped up like a mummy to help his bones and muscles heal. His ribs punctured his lungs so he’s on medication to insure he can breathe properly. He’ll be sequestered to his bed per doctor’s orders for at least two months. Luckily, the semester just ended, so he won’t miss any classes while he’s recovering.

His gang members take care of him and help him in any way they can, but they can only assist with his physical injuries. There’s nothing anyone can do about his broken heart.

He lies in bed day and night, just staring at his ceiling as he daydreams about you being here to care for him. Your warm hands brushing his hair out of his face and your lips pressing a peck to his cheek. Jungkook swears he can hear you giggling as you tell him he “still looks handsome, even like this.”

Jungkook knows in his bones that you were a mistake. He should’ve cut things off when he had the chance after he found out who you are. And yet, he can’t bring himself to think of you as such. It’s impossible for him to regret even a single moment of the time he spent with you.

Every minute he’s awake he wonders what you’re doing and if you’re alright. Are you enjoying your time off from school? What activities and hobbies do you enjoy when you’re alone? Are you missing him the way he’s missing you?

It’s ironic, but he also hopes you aren’t still angry with your brother. Being a leader means doing what you have to do and Jungkook hopes you can forgive him. He knows how much Namjoon means to you and he can’t live with himself knowing he’s the thing that’s driving a wedge between you.

When he’s asleep, he dreams of you, and there are varying types of them. There are beautiful, soft, soothing dreams where he just gets to hold you and listen to your voice talk about nothing at all. Ones where he gets to confess that he loves you, too, and that he wants to be with you more than anything in the world. Then there’s the sexy, unbridled, wet dreams that have him gasping and sweating when he wakes up. He dreams of you on top of him as you whisper how much you need him into his ear. There’s another where he’s pounding you into his mattress as he kisses your neck, shoulders, and tits. He doesn’t even know what your actual breasts look like; he never got the chance to see you like that. One night his mind combines both the hard and soft and he dreams up an entire day spent with you. Where he takes you out for dinner and a movie, then brings you back to his place to worship your body, falls asleep with you on his chest, and then wakes up to do it all over again. Jungkook wonders if he should just sleep all the time so he can be with you.

His reality without you is bleak, grave, and dark. There’s no light in his world anymore and he doesn’t know how long he can go without seeing you or hearing your voice.

Jungkook makes a full recovery before the next semester starts. Luckily, he doesn’t have too many scars on his face anymore from the incident. When he looks in the mirror, it finally looks like him staring back again.

On the first day of classes Jungkook prays you’re in the same one again, but he doesn’t see you anywhere. His eyes constantly scan the hallways and classrooms for any sign of you, but to no avail. It’s killing him not knowing where you are.

He spends his days anxiously bouncing his knee below the desk as he attempts to listen to his professors. Sometimes, he’ll see a glimmer of someone who could be you, only to find out it’s not, and fall back into his usual disappointment.

By the time he does see you again, six months have passed. He wishes the reunion had been happy, or that it was even a reunion at all. Instead it’s just him, standing at the entrance of the building as he watches you race in the opposite direction before hopping into a car with a Dragon.

When he gets home he enters with his head down. After getting his first glimpse of you in six months, he isn’t ready to converse with anyone from his gang.

But he doesn’t get the chance to head downstairs right away.

His gang is congregated in the living room. There’s an intense tension in the air Jungkook doesn’t know how to name. He steps into the room and it feels like the air gets sucked out of it. As if everyone is suddenly statues in a graveyard. Jimin and Taehyung eye him carefully as he walks forwards towards their leader.

Bangchan is conversing intensely with some of his right hand men, but he turns towards Jungkook when he notices him approaching. Chan clears his throat and grabs the younger man’s shoulder, then he speaks a truth that has Jungkook’s heart sinking in his chest.

“Kim Namjoon is dead.”

You’re a zombie among the living and you have been for some time now. Ever since Jungkook was forcefully ripped from your life, you’re a shell of the woman you once were. The time off from school moves like honey dripping from a spoon as you spend every waking moment wondering how he’s doing. You don’t even know if he’s alive or not.

There’s a tsunami of relief that moves through you when you find out he’s alive and fully recovered. You only know because you hear some girls in the library talking about him once classes start back up. The jealousy from their whispers about him doesn’t have anywhere within you to take root. The soil of your heart is salted and rotting.

Every single day you fight the urge to go to him, but you refuse to risk his life again. The pain of missing him is incomprehensible. You feel it in your heart and lungs as they work overtime to soothe the ache of being apart. But none of it even comes close to the nightmares and memories of hearing his bones break and his breathing wane. Night terrors overtake you for months following the incident. Images of him bleeding and broken in a heap on the floor while you stand helpless to stop it.

You haven’t spoken a single word to Namjoon since that night. He tries, but you shut yourself in your room or leave the house entirely. You haven’t heard your brother’s deep and melodious voice in six months now. You’re uncertain if you have the strength within you to forgive him. Maybe one day, once the Dragons and the Wolves are just a distant nightmare you never have to experience again.

The day starts like any other. Yoongi drops you off at the university and you thank him before heading to class. The topics and lectures are boring, per usual, as you doodle in your notebook alongside the actual notes you take. You’re out of focus these days but you manage to keep your grades up. It’s hard without your study buddy.

The call comes a little before your last lecture is supposed to start. It’s Seokjin, and you know something is wrong as soon as you answer.

“You need to come home. Something’s happened,” he says.

“Seokjin, I don’t —”

“It’s Joonie,” his voice breaks.

Your heart sinks into an abyss so deep you’re certain it will never rise again.

You’re running before the call even drops. The last thing Seokjin tells you is that Yoongi is waiting for you at the entrance. Propelling your feet forward even though you want to collapse, you bolt out of the building and make it to Yoongi’s car in an instant.

Yoongi is speeding off before the door has had time to shut. He doesn’t say anything. Just stares straight ahead with tears rolling down his face like rain.

When you reach the house, the silence seems to stretch infinitely. There are no birds chirping or trees billowing in the wind. It’s absolutely stone cold silent. You wonder if the apocalypse came while you were in the car. The door to the house creaks open and the sound of people breathing and the AC blasting is somehow deafening in comparison.

Your feet move on their own because your mind is too busy hiding from what it knows is about to come.

Namjoon is lying on the couch with one arm falling limp over the edge of the cushion. He looks like he’s taking one of his infamous naps. The ones that always happen after he’s been reading for too long. The only thing missing from the scene is an open book lying across his chest. You stop a few feet away and stare at his chest, the one you spent your entire childhood lying on and slapping whenever he made you angry. You will it to move with your mind, imagine it rising and falling and attempt a manifestation of the sight into reality. After counting to ten without seeing it rise, you collapse.

A scream rips out of your throat as you bring your forehead to the hardwood floor beneath you. Your entire body is shaking so violently that the zippers on your clothes rattle. Someone who smells like Hoseok comes behind you, holding you up against him as you sob hard enough to make yourself sick.

“No,” you wail helplessly into his shoulder.

Hoseok releases you when you begin to push against his hold. You crawl towards your brother on your hands and knees. When you reach him you caress his face and push his hair out of his eyes. He hates it when it gets in his eyes.

“Joonie,” you whisper to only him. “Joonie, you gotta wake up.” You gasp for air. “I need my big brother. Please, please, for me, you have to wake up.”

He doesn’t respond. You already know he can’t. It doesn’t matter. You’ll speak nonsense to him until his body begins to decay.

Throwing yourself on top of him, you cry into his bloodstained clothes. He’s still warm even though he’s hard to the touch. You aren’t sure if there’s a scientific explanation or if your brother’s soul is just so warm that it left behind a signature.

No one moves. Every member of the Dragons just watches in agony as you mourn your brother. Their beloved leader.

You want to die. You want to take one of the switchblades amongst the men in the room and slit your throat. Let your blood congeal with your brother’s and have them bury you together.

Namjoon probably wants to force his way out the afterlife, barreling through anyone in his path, even God himself, just to yell at you for even thinking about it. He raised you to be strong, but you don’t know what strength is without him.

His three best friends help you up once your cries subside into dry whimpers. They help you walk, one with his arm around your waist, the other two with their arms around your shoulders and arm, up the stairs to your room.

As gently as three gang members can, they lay you in your bed. Yoongi takes your shoes off for you and Hoseok pulls the blankets over you.

You grab Seokjin’s hand before they have a chance to leave.

“Please don’t… don’t move him yet,” you croak through your sore vocal chords. “I need to be there. It should be up to me how we… how we bury him.”

Seokjin assures you they won’t as tears fall from his eyes. The two of you share a meaningful glance. A secret only the three of you shared and will be buried along with your brother.

Your tears put you to sleep. It’s completely dreamless. Just black, empty darkness that feels infinite. You wonder if this endless void is your new reality.

The sound of knocking is what wakes you up. You’re still in delirium as you sit up and attempt to find the source of the sound. When you do, you gasp, pulling the covers away and springing from the bed.

You push your window up, reaching your hand out for the guest hanging onto your ledge with his fingertips.

Jungkook steps into your room one leg at a time, ducking down so he fits through the opening. When he stands to his full height, you think you’re still dreaming. It isn’t until he speaks that you realize you aren’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I had to see you, I couldn’t —”

Your mouth clips his sentence in half. Hands tugging at his shirt, you pull him into you as you kiss him. He’s still as a statue at first, confusion evident in the way his brow creases. But then you feel his hands on your waist and he pulls you closer, matching the rhythm of your mouth against his.

Your foreheads touch as you exhale into the air between you. Eyes still closed, you let the feeling of him and his warmth take you under and into his current.

“I missed you,” you say. Jungkook’s hands squeeze your hips. “I missed you so much, Jungkook.”

Your head drops to his shoulder as you cry. He pulls you into him and holds you there with his hand against your head. He combs his fingers through your hair and kisses down the side of your face. Anything he can think to do to bring you some sort of comfort.

“I’m here, pretty,” he tells you. “Not going anywhere.”

He guides you over to your bed as your breathing levels out again. You sit next to one another and Jungkook caresses your hand. Every once in a while bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles one by one.

With your free hand you grab his chin, turning his face back and forth before you breathe out a laugh.

“You’re still so handsome,” you say after analyzing his features. The scars embedded in his honey skin are faint. “I almost forgot how handsome you are.”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“I knew you’d say something like that,” he responds. He pulls you closer so your knees touch. The silent moments between you are comfortable. You don’t need to speak, just be near. After a while Jungkook licks his lips and says, “I’m so, so sorry about your brother, Y/N.”

Your hand grips his fingers harder as reality slowly creeps back in.

“I…” you have to inhale before you can continue. “The last time I ever spoke to him was that night.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and then soften into something that looks like guilt. As if him being brutally beaten was his own doing.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls to you.

You shake your head. There is no going back now and you aren’t sure you would if given the chance. Maybe just to tell Namjoon you love him one more time, but nothing further. His death doesn’t take away from him hurting you.

“I didn’t know if you were dead or alive until classes started again,” you tell him. “I had nightmares every night about what they did to you. The way your bones sounded when they —”

“Hey, don’t do that. I’m right here. I’m fine,” Jungkook reassures you.

“You weren’t fine, though,” you snap. “I wasn’t fine. He took you from me, Jungkook.” You wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I told him my feelings for you and he still made me stay away.”

Jungkook doesn’t have a response because he knows everything you’re feeling isn’t black and white. The grief is mixing with the anger and the sadness into a devastating combination of emotions. So he holds you instead, pulls you across his lap so your thighs are resting on either side of him. Brushes his fingers up your back in a soothing pattern while you rest your head on his shoulder.

After a while of comforting silence, your lips find the mole on his neck. It’s just a tentative kiss at first, but then you’re kissing him harder and sucking on the sensitive skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. His hands caress your hips tentatively, fingers reaching up and brushing against the skin beneath your top.

“Pretty,” Jungkook sighs. “We don’t have to —”

“I need you, Jungkook,” you say as you face him. You don’t mean it sexually, even though sex is exactly what you’re asking for. The need to feel him close is just so great, that his touch is the only thing that can quell it. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, heard him, or touched him, and you’re desperate to feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers just so you know he’s here and he’s alive. “Please, baby.”

Jungkook nods and kisses you slowly, tasting you on his tongue as your hips begin to grind against him. His hands guide you across his lap in slow circles. You feel him growing hard, causing you to moan into his mouth. He deepens the kiss with his tongue, cradling your neck to keep your head still as he chases your lips.

Your hands find his shoulders and use the leverage to grind down harder against the evident bulge in his pants. You groan at the feeling of it rubbing against your clit through your clothes. Jungkook growls deep in his throat when you pick up the pace. His lips are all over you. He kisses down your face and across your jaw. Sucks on your neck and drags his tongue along your hot skin before biting into your jugular. Your gasp slowly morphs into a moan.

Jungkook moves away for a split second so he can tug your top over your head. His eyes drop down to your covered chest to see what he’s been dying to all this time. He cups your breasts in his hands, massaging and pushing them together before bending down to kiss the tops of them.

You reach back to unclip your bra and Jungkook moans as it falls away. He’s never gotten to see you like this before; feel your soft skin under his hands like this. Now unimpeached, Jungkook takes one of your nipples in his mouth while twisting the other between his fingers. You throw your head back as you pant in ecstasy.

“Jungkook,” you whine as he gives your other breast the same attention. “Feels so good.”

When he’s done, he kisses his way back up to your lips. Your hand tangles into his long hair and your nails scratch at his scalp. Your free hand tugs at the hem of his top. Jungkook chuckles at your silent signal before removing his shirt with one hand.

Seeing him unobstructed for the first time is pure heaven. Hands tracing over his shoulders and down his chest, scratching your nails across the abs you knew he had. When he pulls you close, the skin to skin contact you’ve been aching for is like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day.

Jungkook’s warm hands are sprawled across your back as your pussy moves expertly against him. Part of you wants to just keep going like this until you both come in your pants, but most of you wants him naked and beneath you in your bed.

Jungkook obliges without needing to be told. He lifts you enough to lie you back and crawls over you, pushing your thighs apart with his knee. You reach for him and he kisses your fingers before meeting you again at your lips. His hands are working your jeans off you while he ravishes your lips and jaw.

When they’re off, he sits back on his heels to look at you. This is the sight he’s been waiting for and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. His hands grip your thighs and he squeezes to watch your flesh move between his fingers.

“So beautiful, baby,” he praises you. He starts kissing you again at your collarbones before inching down slowly. After his mouth leaves your breasts he kisses down your stomach. “I love you,” he whispers directly into your skin. You aren’t sure you heard him right, but then he repeats himself as he kisses across your hips. “I love you… I love you… I love you.”

It comes out of his mouth like a prayer and you’re his only deity. Bittersweet tears roll down your cheeks at his confession. Your fingers thread into his hair as he finally reaches your pussy. He kisses you once on your mound before pulling your underwear down your legs so he can taste you.

He kisses you slowly, reverently. At first it’s so soft and light you barely feel him, but then his tongue swipes across your folds and you moan desperately. His hands grip the back of your thighs to pull you closer, burying his face into your cunt. He groans in pleasure, his mouth and tongue alternating between licking and kissing you while his nose teases your clit.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he grunts as he dives back in for more.

You’re a complete mess above him. Hair strewn haphazardly across the pillow, nipples swollen and erect, panting out breaths with dried tears all down your face.

Jungkook moves to suck on your clit and then kitten licks at it, using a finger to push your hood back and drive you into oversensitivity. You cover your mouth with your hand to scream into it. Your hips chase his mouth and he lets you. He just moans into your cunt as you ride his face.

Jungkook grips you tighter to still you, not letting you grind anymore so he can go into overdrive against your hole. He fucks you with his tongue and then licks all the way up to your clit before staying there. He flattens his tongue against the nub and moves his face back and forth. Pulls back and spits directly on it before rubbing it in with the tip of his tongue.

Your orgasm pulls you beneath the waves of ecstasy and you welcomely drown in it. It happens without warning, but Jungkook already knows. He knows your body like it’s his own and he growls as you come on his face and he drinks every last drop.

Gasping for any air you can find, Jungkook kisses across your thighs and bites at your flesh. You grab him by the shoulder to bring him back to you. You taste yourself on his lips, your cum smearing across the bottom half of your face.

Your hands are quick to undo Jungkook’s belt and pull down the zipper of his jeans. You start palming him through his boxers before his pants are fully off. He groans into your mouth before kissing your neck and biting at your earlobe, letting his tongue trace the perimeter of it.

You want to see him fully and appreciate him in all his glory, so you use your legs to wrap around his own and flip him onto his back. He looks a little shocked at you doing anything even remotely dominant, but the fire in his eyes tells you exactly how much he loves it.

His neck is your first target as you lick the sweaty skin and press wet kisses all over his throat and shoulder. As your lips move down his torso, your hands follow closely behind, digging your nails into his skin and creating red marks in their wake. He grunts and bucks his hips as you finish your assault on his delicious abdominal muscles. Your eyes roll back when you count eight of them.

You pull his boxers down and off, all without ever breaking eye contact. Crawling back over him, you take in his entire body laid before you for the first time. He’s so beautiful you could cry.

Pumping his cock with your warm hand, you move to taste him when he stops you with a hand to your shoulder.

“No, pretty,” he starts. “It’s not about me tonight. Just wanna make you feel good.” You pout and he soothes you by sitting up and pushing your hair away from your face. “Will you let me?” He kisses you softly, but with all his devotion. “Let me make love to you?”

You close your eyes and nod. He kisses the skin of your eyelids adoringly before lying you beneath him again. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. His cock is teasing your clit while he swipes through your folds to lube himself with your cum. He thrusts into you slowly, letting you adjust to the feel of him again after so long apart.

Your nails rake down his back and across his shoulders as he splits you apart on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside your walls and it’s as though your entire body was created for this very moment.

When you don’t show any signs of discomfort, Jungkook begins thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. He lays on top of you with his forearms carrying his weight. His body is so familiar and yet everything feels brand new.

Your legs wrap around his stupidly tiny waist and an actual laugh escapes you. His questioning eyes find yours.

“What do you have such a small waist for, huh? It’s unfair. It’s smaller than mine,” you explain.

Jungkook tsks at you before kissing your cheek.

“Your waist is perfect,” he says. “You’re fucking perfect.”

His thrusts are slower than normal, but just as deep. The motion pushes you up the bed each time he enters your pussy and Jungkook has to use his hands to protect your head from hitting the headboard. He grinds his hips down in conjunction with his strokes and it forces his cock right into your g-spot.

Your moans are just one endless stream of sound because it feels too heavenly to do anything else. His name filters between them to create a melody meant only for his ears.

His body is bringing you forms of pleasure you’ve never experienced with anyone else and yet you care more about the feeling of his warm body against yours. It’s his skin and sweat, the goosebumps on his arms, his hair tickling your face, that truly means the most to you. He’s here in your arms, heart beating up against your own and it almost brings tears to your eyes again. You almost lost him.

You aren’t able to focus on your sentiments for much longer because he pulls back and lifts your ankles to his shoulders and then bends you in half, the back of your thighs touching his chest.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you gasp. The push and pull of Jungkook’s dick at this angle has your nails nearly puncturing the skin of his shoulder.

“I got you, pretty,” he states.

He kisses your calf next to his face and you feel warm all over. Through your legs you can see the way his thick cock comes out coated in your essence before it disappears into you again. Jungkook is watching the same way you are, his mouth open in awe of how well your pussy sucks him in over and over.

The position is too good for your mind to fully comprehend, but you need him closer. You want your skin pressed together as one in every possible place it can. You grab at him and he gets the message, letting your legs fall back to his hips. His elbows are next to your ears as he stretches your hole open for him repeatedly.

His cock fills you so perfectly that you feel every ridge and vein against your velvet walls. The friction is debilitating and sends your mind into a frenzy. You’re crying tears of pleasure that Jungkook kisses away before devouring your mouth. Gripping his ass, you thrust up against him in an attempt to sink him deeper inside you even though you swear you feel him in your stomach already.

It’s not enough. Nothing with Jungkook will ever feel like enough when your body wants him so insatiably. But right now, you need more.

“Jungkook,” you pant. He makes a sound of affirmation as he mouths at your jaw. “Stop playing nice.”

Jungkook lifts his head to look at you. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to give you a chance to take back your instruction. You stare him down with a matching intensity instead.

The sound of his deep chuckle is right next to your ear and your heart races in anticipation.

In an instant, your hands are forced above your head by one of his own, crossing your wrists over each other and lacing his fingers between the ones he can reach. He pushes at them once, as if telling you not to try anything. When you open your mouth to moan, Jungkook crashes into your lips and spits into your mouth. You’re gasping as you swallow his saliva. His free hand teasingly traces your skin from your hip to your knee, creating fiery goosebumps along your flesh, before he grabs you by the knee and forces your leg up higher on his hip, creating an even closer angle.

He rears back slowly, leaving just his tip in for a lingering moment. Jungkook waits until you whine pathetically at the emptiness, your hips bucking up in desperation. Your pussy clenches around nothing as it begs for him to come back home. Once there are tears pricking at your eyes and he thinks you’ve waited long enough, he slams into you so hard your vision goes out.

He clasps his hand over your mouth before you can scream. His pace is downright fucking demonic as he pistons his cock into you. You’re screaming and drooling against his hand as tears wet your cheeks. You cannot comprehend how this is the same man who kissed his love into your stomach and hips. You worry you’ll look up and his eyes will be glowing red with the fires of hell.

This is months of being separated coming to a head. All the fear, rage, depression, and guilt pooling in your stomachs and physically manifesting into a miasma of pleasure. Every thought and worry you felt for one another is pouring over your bodies like acid, burning you in a scorching heat that only the other can quench.

You’re close and Jungkook can tell by the way your cunt flutters around him. His mouth replaces his hand as he kisses you, letting go of your hands above your head so he can grasp your hips. Your arms snake around his back and into his hair, tugging on the strands to pull him away so you can kiss the veins popping out in his neck.

“Need to feel you come, pretty,” he grunts.

A breathy moan is your only response because words are failing you. Jungkook angles your hips up so his tip is kissing you in just the right spot. His thrusts have slowed again but are deeper than ever, so passionate in his pursuit to pleasure you that your orgasm pulls you into a different plane of existence entirely.

Your hand grips Jungkook’s hair impossibly tight as your pussy spasms around him. Jungkook groans loudly, his head tipping back as you come around him.

Jungkook usually loves to fill you up and watch it drip out, but for some reason the need to paint you in his seed overwhelms him. He pulls out and fists his cock as hot spurts of cum fall across your stomach, tits, and thighs.

You moan appreciatively at the feeling and watch in awe at the way it drips from his tip and onto your skin. Instinctively, your mouth opens as you stare into Jungkook’s fucked-out eyes. He hears your message loud and clear, using his fingers to scoop some of his cum from your belly before feeding it to you. You suck it off his fingers without breaking eye contact until you roll your eyes and moan at the taste of him.

Jungkook is panting, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths as he stares at the mess he made of you.

“Fuck, pretty,” he exhales.

You sit up on your elbows and smile at his artwork across your body.

“You could always lick it off of me, ya know,” you suggest.

Jungkook laughs.

“Don’t get me going again, my love,” he responds. “I’ll fucking ruin you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken and he runs his hands through his hair. After taking a moment to stare you down, he steals your hands and pins them above your head. His lips are touching yours by just a hair when he responds.

“It’s a promise… for another day,” he states.

You pout and he kisses it away before finally leaving you to find something to clean you with. You nod your head towards your en-suite bathroom and he comes back with a warm towel.

You run your fingers through the front of his hair as he delicately wipes his own cum from your soft skin. When he’s done he bends down to kiss your stomach before returning the towel to the bathroom.

When he returns you’re sitting up and pulling a baggy shirt over your head. Jungkook slips on his boxers and sits next to you, pulling your feet into his lap and caressing your ankles.

Fingers fiddling in your lap, you chew on your lip as you think about the path that lies ahead. There is still so much left unanswered and it terrifies you.

You have to bury your brother and the Dragons need a new leader. Your only tie to the gang is now gone. The gang would never kick you out of the house, but without Namjoon you have no reason to be involved in this world. But you also have nowhere else to go.

Then there’s Jungkook, who is a longstanding member of the very gang who is probably responsible for Namjoon’s death. It’s not like they would welcome you into their fray even with him gone. Everyone knows you’re his sister. You love Jungkook and you want to be with him more than anything, but you don’t know a way around all the obstacles still in your path.

Jungkook gently tucks a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes silently questioning if you’re alright. You affirm him with a nod.

He leaves soon after because you still have so much to sort out. Although, not before putting his number back into your phone and kissing you goodbye. He tells you he’ll see you at the university and you can talk more then.

When you return downstairs, Namjoon is covered by a white cloth. You, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit in the kitchen and discuss burial plans. Yoongi has a family friend who runs a funeral home. You finish deciding on the details and a quiet tension fills the room as you all realize what you need to discuss next.

“So, how do we go about finding out who did this?” Hoseok starts the daunting conversation.

“It was obviously the fucking Wolves,” Yoongi snarls.

“Yeah, but not all of them,” you say. “The gang as a whole would never do something so stupid and reckless.”

“You think it was some rogue member?” Seokjin asks.

“That or a small faction who is itching to start a war,” you respond.

“Well they got what they wanted,” Yoongi says as he crosses his arms. “I’m going to Bangchan tomorrow to challenge them to a brawl. On the condition that if they give up the coward who did this, no one else gets hurt.”

“You think it will work?” Hoseok questions.

“Wait, you want more people, our people, to possibly get hurt?” You don’t see the logic in it. The Dragons are already down and out without your brother. A massive brawl between the two gangs will only make things worse.

“Someone has to be punished, Y/N,” Yoongi answers. “I’ll let them decide if it’s one or all of them.”

You know that Yoongi’s decision is final. He was Namjoon’s right hand man and is most likely to take over as leader. But that doesn’t mean you won’t do whatever it takes to stop it from happening.

Jungkook finds you after your classes end for the day. You run straight into his arms when you see him, wrapping yourself around his neck and inhaling his familiar scent. His hands sneak below your shirt and rub soothing circles on your waist and back. He kisses you before you go somewhere private to talk.

Sitting down outside the large double doors of the university, you reach across the wooden table to take his hands. It feels odd, but soothing being here together again after months of not crossing paths. When you glance around, you see the same path you took as you were skipping ahead of him after taking an exam. In the opposite direction, there’s a small cove where Jungkook fingered you and kissed you like he needed it more than oxygen. That was shortly before the incident with your brother. The prettier memories of your relationship are all around you.

Inhaling deeply, you squeeze his hands before telling him everything you know.

“There’s going to be a fight in three days unless the Wolves give up the person or people responsible for Namjoon’s death. If they do, the brawl is off,” you explain.

Jungkook is playing with your fingers as he listens to you.

“That won’t work,” Jungkook states. “We would never give up one of our own even if he did do something as cowardly as murdering someone in cold blood.”

“I know,” you agree. “That’s why we have to figure out who did this before then and give them up ourselves.”

“It won’t be easy, pretty,” Jungkook admits. He lets go and leans back before sighing and running his fingers through his hair. “Everyone knows about you and I. They won’t let anything slip around me or my friends.” You chew on your bottom lip as you contemplate your options. Jungkook watches you before taking a deep breath. “If the brawl goes down… you know I’ll have to be there, right, pretty?”

You nod with a far away look in your eyes.

“I know. That’s why it has to work. I can’t lose you, too,” you whisper without looking at him.

Jungkook kisses the back of your hands, tilting his head to bring your attention to him. His pretty doe eyes are hesitant, not wanting to leave you like this, but you assure him you’re fine before standing.

He still drops you off at the same spot to avoid any unnecessary tension if he’s spotted near the house. You kiss him goodbye through the driver’s side window before venturing home.

Upon returning home, you notice the classical music playing from the stereo before anything else. You recognize the song and already know who’ll be there before entering the room. Seokjin sits with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of ice in the other. Everyone else must either be out or in their rooms. You sit next to him and gesture for the bottle. He passes it unceremoniously over to you.

“We swore Yoongi in tonight,” Seokjin tells you.

“He’ll do good,” you reply. You look at the bottle and swirl the liquid around inside. “He’s always been prudent.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin sighs.

You put the bottle down and reach for Seokjin’s arm instead. Squeezing it, he looks at you with glassy eyes.

“I miss him already, too,” you breathe.

Seokjin flashes you a hollow smile.

“There was still so much we wanted to do together,” he muses. Seokjin looks down at his hand, stretching his fingers out and flexing it. “He just bought us matching rings. We were gonna wear them on different fingers so no one caught on.”

“Bought? My brother?”

Seokjin genuinely smiles at that.

“Can you believe it? He said he didn’t want something like that to be stolen. That I deserve to be paid for,” Seokjin explains.

You relax against the chair.

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” you say.

“I know you two weren’t on good terms at the time, but it doesn’t change how deeply he loved you,” Seokjin continues.

“I know,” you reply.

“He didn’t…” Seokjin sighs, mulling over his next words carefully. “He was pissed about you sleeping with a Wolf, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t do what he did out of cruelty. He was our leader. If he looked the other way and people found out, they would've started to doubt his ability to do whatever necessary for the gang.” Seokjin sits forward to meet your eyes. “I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I wanted you to know. He only ever wanted two things for you, Y/N. To be happy and to be safe.”

“Jungkook does both of those things for me,” you say.

“Good,” Seokjin smiles.

You squeeze his arm one last time before leaving him alone with the whiskey bottle.

Time soldiers on with each tick of the clock, every second bringing you closer to the inevitable truth that this brawl is going to happen. Jungkook tells you he’s doing his best, but the truth is harder to scrounge for than originally anticipated.

The truth comes too late.

The night of the brawl, you do what you swore you never would and drive Namjoon’s motorcycle down the unfamiliar streets to the Wolf’s Den. You’re wearing his biker jacket, too. The Dragons had it cleaned and the patches re-embroidered before gifting it to you.

Jungkook meets you at the back of the house and sneaks you into his room in the basement. Despite your terror about tonight, finally seeing his room brings a smile to your face.

“I like it,” you say as you run your fingers down the leather jacket on his chair.

Jungkook takes a seat on the bed while your eyes comb over the pieces of him scattered around the room. A picture of him and his parents, a drawing of an adorable white dog who looks like a cloud, his boxing gloves. It’s comforting being so entirely surrounded by him.

Pulling you by the waist, Jungkook brings you to stand between his legs. His hands caress you from your thighs to your stomach before he leans in and kisses your navel, then rests his forehead against you. You comb your fingers through his hair, admiring the pretty black strands. He hums peacefully at the feeling. Being with him like this makes it easy to forget reality looming on the other side of the door, lying in wait for you to return to it.

“You’ll stay back as much as possible, right? Avoid the big guys?” You ask him.

Jungkook sighs, leaning back on his hands and tracing over your features with his eyes.

“Pretty, you know I can’t do that,” he responds.

Nodding with your lip between your teeth, you avoid his eyes. Anger and fear mix together in your stomach and make you want to be sick. Your brother is dead and now the man you love is on the precipice of the same fate. You already lost him once and you refuse to do it again.

“So, you just…” your sentence dies in your throat. There aren’t enough words to explain the heaviness you feel.

Jungkook stands and brings you to his chest. You hit him to make him let you go, but your body is already betraying you and melting into his embrace. You bury your face into his shirt, inhaling his scent and letting it envelope you in familiarity.

“Please, don’t go,” you beg him. “I love you, Jungkook. I can’t –,” you cut yourself off before your emotions can drown you. “Just… please.”

Jungkook’s fingers use your chin to bring your lips to his. It’s a quick kiss, barely a peck before he moves to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek.

“I love you, too, Y/N. I love you more than I can even comprehend, but this is my family we’re talking about. I have a responsibility to them, too,” he tells you.

You don’t fight him on it anymore. There’s no strength left within you to do so. Your mental fortitude is cracking and crumbling into ash all around you. Most of all, you don’t want what could possibly be your last moments together to happen in anger.

Harsh banging forces you apart as someone tells Jungkook it’s time to go. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses you ardently. It feels like goodbye and tastes like grief. You use his lips as an altar and pray to the angels and the saints and maybe even the demons to keep him safe and bring him home to you unscathed. You promise them you’ll be joining them soon if they don’t.

Jungkook sneaks you back out as the Wolves gather in the road on their idling motorcycles. He leaves you with a final kiss to your lips and forehead, where he whispers how much he loves you one more time.

You watch helplessly as your eyes trace his figure moving further and further away from you. He throws an arm around who you can only assume is Taehyung as Jimin follows closely behind. You don’t look away until you’re unable to follow him any longer. His bike carrying him away from you along with the rest of his gang.

A twig snaps, or maybe fate pulls at your shoulder, and you look up just as a few stragglers are heading to leave. You recognize the familiar face as though you last saw him yesterday, and not over a decade ago. The blood in your veins courses through you at sub-zero temperatures and freezes around your organs.

Realization slams into you with the force of a brick wall. You need to tell the others that you know who took Namjoon from you.

Running across the yard as fast as your legs can carry you, your hands shake as you work to secure your helmet. Your leg swings over the leather seat and you throttle the engine. The bike roars to life and you don’t waste a second before taking off down the street.

One motorcycle can get somewhere a lot faster than twenty five can, but they already have a decent head start.

Your heart is pounding so loud you can hear it in your ears as the buildings fly by in streaks of blurry light. It rained earlier and the water from the road is whipping up at your legs. All of your senses feel overloaded by the anxiety taking root within you.

You have no clue what you’re going to do when reach the gangs, and if the fight has already started, it will be too dangerous to intervene.

Jungkook flashes across your mind, and you can already picture the expression of worry and concern he’ll have when you arrive. He’s going to be so angry with you for putting yourself in harm’s way, and Yoongi, Seokjin, and Hoseok will be the same. You can’t concern yourself with their potential anger right now. All that matters is getting to them.

The brawl is taking place at the old salt mill which still stands on the edge of the city. It’s a massive open air factory built on acres of farmland. The last time you saw it, the steel walls were beginning to tear and the foundation cracking.

Despite its dilapidation, it’s the perfect location for fifty or so men to beat and kill each other without anyone noticing.

The monumental building comes into view in the distance and as you approach you see all the motorcycles lined up along the road.

Parking next to the familiar motorcycles belonging to the Dragons, you grant yourself the reprieve of a single deep breath before diving headfirst into the danger ahead.

The engine has barely begun to cool when you throw your helmet off. Your feet propel you forward across the wet pavement towards the factory. Your shoes meet puddles as you run and the water splashes against your bare legs.

Looking down at your attire, you almost scoff. Namjoon would be so mad at you for not looking the part. You’re about to run into a room of fifty armed men wearing a pleated skirt and frilly pink blouse. At least Namjoon’s jacket still resting on your shoulders makes you look a little bit tougher.

You can just make out the figures amongst the processing equipment and huge piles of salt left behind by the manufacturers. The mountains of salt surround the two gangs and make it look as though they’re in the center of an arena. As you move forward, you see Yoongi and Bangchan standing in the space between the two gangs.

They’re probably discussing the “rules” and deciding which weapons will be allowed. It’s a pointless conversation to make themselves feel better. You’re certain that every man in there brought a gun to this knife fight.

“Wait!” You shout when you’re in earshot, traversing over rusted machinery and scattered salt. You speak again once you’re inside. “Stop!”

Yoongi is looking at you incredulously, his eyes burning with a protective fury. Seokjin and Hoseok mirror his expression from where they stand on the far right and left of the Dragons. Your eyes catch motion in your peripheral vision, and you see Jungkook already moving through the crowd to get to you.

Yoongi grabs your arm and tugs you back into the crowd of Dragons, standing so that his body is shielding you from the Wolves across the room. He opens his mouth to no doubt scold you and demand an explanation, but he doesn’t get the chance. A cacophony of noises and voices stops him.

“Hey –”

“Get off me.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Dude, what the hell.”

“Heesung –”

Your eyes widen in horror as you take in the scene over Yoongi’s shoulder. He sees your expression and turns to follow your gaze.

The Wolves have all moved back into a U shape which highlights two figures standing to the left, next to a massive pile of salt. The flood lights on the ceiling bounce off the bright white and bathe the two of them in an unnatural light.

Jungkook jerks his right arm back to get the man holding him across the shoulders to let go. He grunts and tries to elbow him in the stomach, but stops short when he feels something cool and sharp press against his jugular.

There’s a silver glint from where the light catches on the blade pushing against Jungkook’s throat. Your eyes snap shut involuntarily as a paralyzing fear overtakes your nervous system.

“Y/N…” The man sing-songs in a tone so eerie it creeps up your spine like weeds.

You didn’t think this through. Didn’t account for what Heesung would do when he’s backed into a corner.

“Heesung, please let him go,” you beg cautiously, not wanting to make a single miscalculation. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

A wave of confusion crosses over Jungkook’s face at your familiarity with his fellow Wolf.

Heesung laughs at your plea and the knife presses harder against Jungkook’s skin. A single bead of blood trails down his throat.

Jungkook knows he’s stronger than Heesung, that he can overpower him with ease, but he can’t bring himself to fight when he sees you across the room. You’re shaking, your eyes so sorrowful it breaks his heart, and your lip trembles where it’s clenched between your teeth. He has something to live for now, someone to come home to, and he can’t risk Heesung’s knife going anywhere it shouldn’t.

“Doesn’t he?” Heesung retorts. “He is your lover, yes? So I should kill him, too, just like I killed Namjoon and leave you with no one so you’ll be just like me.”

His confession permeates through the air, stunning both gangs into a weighted silence. You feel Yoongi go stiff by your side.

“No,” you whimper. “You can just take me instead. That would be enough, right? Enough revenge? Enough penance for what we did to you?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook snaps at you, but Heesung shushes him.

Heesung studies you for a moment before shaking his head, the knife pressing down again and making Jungkook gasp for air.

“No, Y/N. Nothing will ever be enough,” Heesung snarls.

Time seems to slow once the words leave him, because before anyone in the room can even take their next breath, a gunshot rings out.

“No!”

Your scream is nearly simultaneous with the gunshot itself, following it by only a millisecond.

Your view of Jungkook and Heesung gets forcefully taken from you in an instant. The only thing you see is blood splattering and dispersing into the air where their heads were a moment ago. The ricochet and a body falling to the floor sends salt up into the air and covers the entire scene in a white cloud.

There are no words for the emotions that overtake you in the moment before the blood and salt settle. It feels like fear at first, but the word is too small in comparison. Panic, terror, dread, none of them are heavy enough. Grief moves in like fog across the morning air. You wait with bated breath to see if it will break and the sun will peak through the clouds.

Someone coughs, and then they stumble out from the cloud of salt with ragged breaths and wide eyes. He’s covered in blood splatter, the thick liquid matting down his hair and soiling his shirt, but it’s clear none of it is his own.

“Jungkook!”

Your feet can’t bring you to him fast enough. When they do, you throw your arms around his neck as your entire body shakes. Jungkook is still delirious, the gunshot throwing off his equilibrium. But then he feels your warmth against him, grounding him, and his arms latch around your waist.

“It’s okay. I’m alright,” he assures you. His hand sinks into your hair as he pulls you closer, causing your back to arch into him and your heels to lift from the floor. He kisses across your temple, cheek, and hairline.

Your very soul releases a sigh of relief as you sink deeper into his embrace.

The sound of a pistol chamber clicking back into place catches your attention. As the salt slowly falls to the ground like snow, you turn your head to see Seokjin standing behind it. He’s cleaning the gun with a rag as he looks at the body before him in disgust.

“Seokjin,” you say to grab his attention.

He looks up at you with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. If you didn’t know the features of his face you wouldn’t be able to notice it. It’s solemn and peaceful, like he’s finally laying something to rest.

“Didn’t mean to ruin the fun, but that asshole was really pissing me off,” he states. “Can we call this an eye for an eye and be done, Bangchan? I’m not sure you want someone willing to kill one of his own in your ranks anyway.”

Bangchan looks so utterly confused at the whole display that he has to shake his head before gathering his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he finally answers. “We’re done here.”

His words give way for the Wolves to mosey out of the factory, their whispers of confusion following them out to the road. Yoongi tells the Dragons to get home, too, before making his way over to where you’re still clinging to Jungkook.

“You want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

Jungkook squeezes your waist, nods and tells you it’s alright, before letting you go and joining Taehyung and Jimin near the exit. You watch Jimin grasp his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. Taehyung messes with his hair affectionately.

You ride home on Namjoon’s motorcycle while his friends lead the way. No one speaks until you’re sitting in Yoongi’s room together, passing a bottle of whiskey around. You only begin to talk after taking a slow, poignant sip of the liquor.

“You guys already know Namjoon and I ran away from home because our parents were physically and verbally abusive. But we swore never to tell anyone about what happened the day we left. Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud even if he wanted to,” you begin before taking another burning sip of alcohol. “We left just after midnight and snuck out of the house down the fire escape. Our neighbor, Mrs. Lee, spotted us as we were climbing down. She realized what we were doing right away, so she grabbed me so we couldn’t run. I fought against her so hard, but she just wouldn’t let go.” You place your hands between your knees to stop them from shaking. “Namjoon shot her so we could get away. He didn’t have a choice. Our parents would’ve killed us that very night if he hadn’t.” You exhale somberly. “We only realized as we were running down the street that her son was outside and saw the whole thing. We grew up with Heesung. He was our friend. It… it was never meant to happen that way.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Hoseok grabs your hand and it makes you smile just a hair.

With Heesung’s death comes relief, and your hunger for vengeance is satiated, but the cruelty of fate still nips at your subconscious.

Heesung and Namjoon are two sides of a tragic coin. Neither one deserving of the cards they were dealt, and bound by the lingering strings of a tragedy which became their demise. The domino effect of a lifetime worth of decisions now ends with you, the last one standing.

“You and Namjoon both endured far more than you deserve,” Yoongi says. “But that’s all behind you now, and that Wolf of yours seems to make you pretty happy.”

You laugh and it feels real for the first time in a while.

“I think we can make an exception to the rules, don’t you?” Seokjin asks his new leader.

“Yes, I believe so,” Yoongi agrees.

Yoongi tells you Jungkook can visit as long as you’re with him the entire time, and he doesn’t leave your room. He allows it because you’re his best friends’ little sister and he loves you like his own. You’ve been through so much in your life already, and he isn’t going to keep a source of happiness from you. You’re so thankful that you force him into a tight embrace, which he pretends to begrudgingly accept, when he’s actually more than happy to return the affection.

Jungkook comes over, with permission this time, the very next day. You lie between his legs on your bed while he shows you how to drift in Mario Kart. You’re downright terrible at it, and he has to place his fingers over yours to prevent a loss on his account. When you inevitably do lose, and his overall ranking drops, his tongue presses to his cheek as he stares you down.

The next thing you know, he’s taking the Switch from you and gently setting it down on the nightstand before turning his attention back to you. He moves his hands down your body from your hips until he reaches your inner thighs and tugs your legs apart. His fingers are quick to find their way to your folds, touching you over your underwear. Your head falls to his shoulder as you moan softly.

“I should piss you off more often,” you muse.

His fingers are just running up and down your slit over the lace of your panties and it’s both not enough and too much simultaneously. He pushes down, causing the fabric to rub against your clit and you gasp, your hand gripping his arm to keep yourself steady.

“I wouldn’t try it,” he warns. His lips are right against your ear and the deepness of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Then he’s kissing your neck and your mind becomes too hazy to reply.

Jungkook moves your underwear to the side as he’s sucking on your neck and pushes into your cunt without warning. Your other hand curls around his head and grabs onto his hair. It’s pathetic how wet you already are, but the squelching sound your pussy makes as his fingers pump in and out is worth the embarrassment.

You’re restless, needing more of him than he’s currently providing you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him between your moans and sharp intakes of air. Jungkook is more than willing to oblige your request.

Which is how you end up on top of him, his cock meeting your cervix repeatedly as you alternate between bouncing up and down and grinding against his hips. His hands are everywhere at first, tracing your outline and massaging over any skin within his reach. But then his right arm, which is so beautifully decorated in tattoos, traverses the familiar path of your chest, stopping to pinch your nipple, before wrapping around your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as your head tips back. The position gives you such a beautiful view of him and his tattoos. You remind yourself to ask him about them soon. A pretty tiger lily is staring you in the face, but then Jungkook squeezes your throat and it becomes a blur of orange and black.

“Always so good for me,” he whispers while sitting up. His lips find yours, his arm securing you to him so you can bounce on him easier. His hand is still on your throat, softly squeezing the sides of it to pleasure you without harm. “My pretty baby,” he says once he moves to sucking on your earlobe and down your neck, just above his own fingers. "Always take my cock so fucking well."

He makes you come twice, because he just loves you that much, before fucking his cum into you as he thrusts his swollen cock into your cunt.

Once your pussy is battered and filled to the brim with his cum, you fall over onto his chest. You can feel him softening inside you, but don’t want to lose the feeling of him just yet.

Jungkook kisses you slowly, licking across your bottom lip and pulling at it with his teeth. You lazily make out as your hands traverse his naked chest. His fingertips create goosebumps where they skim along your spine. You could stay like this forever without a single complaint.

“I love you,” he whispers on your lips. He says it so quietly, as if he’s trying to hide the proclamation from the rest of the world and keep it just for you.

You’re smiling when you kiss him again.

“I love you,” you parrot.

After he finally does pull out, you lie naked together under the covers as Jungkook plays with your hair, twirling it and attempting a makeshift braid while you draw shapes on his skin with your fingers. It’s quiet and peaceful inside your mind for the first time in a long time. Jungkook kisses your forehead and you look over at him with a smile.

Jungkook licks his lips and pulls you up with him until your backs are against the headboard. He finally asks you to enlighten him about why he had a blade to his neck the night prior. You relay the story to him as you did with your brother’s friends.

Jungkook looks rightfully shocked, but he processes his own emotions quickly to offer you comfort instead.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, pretty,” he says. “If you ever wanna talk about it some more, you know I’m always here, right?”

“I know,” you affirm. “I’m here for you, too.”

“God, we’re both fucked up,” Jungkook chuckles.

You nod in agreement.

“It doesn’t have to stay that way, you know,” you propose. “We graduate next year and with Joonie gone there isn’t anything left for me here. I’ll stay until I can afford a place of my own, but then I’m putting this life behind me.” You readjust so you’re looking at Jungkook directly. “And I want you to join me. You’re so fucking smart, Jungkook, and anywhere would be lucky to have you.”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head as he thinks over your words.

“I don’t know what I want right now, pretty, but I do know that I wanna be wherever you are,” he confesses. You’re smiling at him as though he hung the stars in the sky himself. “Is that enough for now?”

Your eyes flit over all the details of him. His wavy black hair, big chocolate brown eyes, and the piercings decorating his pretty lips and eyebrow. He looks so different from the boy you met at school and yet everything is so irrevocably him. You smile, bending down so your noses touch.

“It’s more than enough,” you tell him.

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emchante · 10 months ago

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thighs

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: daniel notices how much you love his thighs, yet are too shy to mention it. he shows you what you've been missing by not telling him before now.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, thigh riding, use of good girl, slight dirty talk.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hi!! i’m super excited to start posting on this blog. of course, the first post had to be dedicated to daniel and his thighs, so i hope you enjoy! requests are open, so if anyone has any prompts or ideas, please send them into my inbox! + a massive thank you to @thef1diary for beta reading this, and inspiring me to start the account.

daniel knew you loved his thighs, it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret. he was sure all of your friends knew too. your eyes wouldn’t leave the meat of his thighs when they were on display – which was often, god bless the extreme heat of most places you travelled to for making him wear shorts everyday.

it wasn’t something that you spoke about often though, in fact, daniel realised you had never really brought it up yourself. you were shy, didn’t really like bringing such things up yourself. daniel usually had to coax what you wanted out of you, and tonight wasn’t any different.

daniel trailed kisses from the nape of your neck, up your jaw until he reached your ear. he whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how beautiful you were, how he would do anything you wanted. your face was on fire at the wet kisses, the sultry tone of his voice already starting a fire in your belly. you tilted your head to give him more access to your neck, but he pulled away from you, causing your eyes to follow him.

he moved his rose-inked hand to cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to gently stroke your cheek. you leaned into his hand, enjoying any and all touch you received from him. you only had your eyes shut momentarily before daniel gave your chin a squeeze, causing them to flutter open again.

“for me to give you what you want,” he started, his voice low. “you need to tell me exactly what it is.”

you smiled at his words. daniel, ever the gentlemen, always doing what you wanted. it was never any different. “i just want you, danny.”

daniel let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down. you furrowed your brows, confused at his reaction. with a tilt of your head, you asked him what was so funny.

“you are,” he told you, looking back up. “always too shy to tell me what you want. always have to work for it to get it out, don’t i?” daniel explained, raising a brow with a grin. you felt your face heat up again, but it wasn’t due to arousal this time – not for the most part, anyways.

“what are you–” you had started to question him, but you cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as daniel moved you to sit on his right thigh. you looked to him for answers, but you were only met with a small smirk on daniel’s face.

“i see the way you look at my thighs, sweetheart,” he began to explain, moving his hands to rest on your hips. his thumbs rubbed small circles into them as he continued to speak to you. “you’re always looking when i’m in shorts, eyes always on me. you know how hard i get when i watch you squeeze your thighs together, all because you can’t contain yourself?”

your jaw dropped at daniel calling you out. you knew that you weren’t exactly subtle about your interest in his thighs, but his words made your full body heat up. you stuttered over your words, but you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. all you managed to squeak out was a “sorry”, and it only made daniel laugh.

“sorry? for what?” he asked as he laughed, moving his right hand off of your hip to grab at your own. he moved it to rest on the fabric of his clearly straining shorts, making you gulp lightly. “you mustn't have heard me, your gaze gets me so fucking hard.”

you meekly nodded, not really sure how to respond to him. daniel knew what you were like though, he didn’t expect much else. he liked how shy you were, how easily flustered he managed to get you. moving his hand off of your own, he slowly ran it up your bare leg, allowing it to slip under your short skirt, smirking as his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.

“so wet for me,” he cooed, and you could only whine as his fingers were so close to where you needed them. you let yourself rut against his thigh once to show him you were desperate for him. daniel’s eyes darkened as he felt you move against his thigh, and he couldn’t contain the groan that left his throat.

slipping his fingers to move your underwear to the side, daniel’s left hand dragged you across his thigh once more to test it, and he couldn’t have landed the jackpot quicker. the feeling of your bare pussy against his thigh, starting to soak it due to how wet you were was all he needed.

“fuck, darling,” he moaned, his right hand moving back up to your hips so he could guide you through it. “you gonna ride my thigh? like a good girl?” he asked you, looking right into your eyes as he said it.

the friction of his thigh against your clit, along with the good girl caused a whine to escape your mouth. you nodded as you moved your hands onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly as you continued to rut against him, desperately lapping up the pleasure you got from your bare cunt against his tattooed thigh.

you suddenly came to a halt though, causing you to break out of the pleasure-bound spell you seemed to be entranced in. daniel’s brows were furrowed, his hands gripping your hips tightly so you weren’t able to continue your movements.

“danny please– let me move,” you pleaded with him, looking down at his thigh as you desperately tried to move your hips. his grip was too strong for you to fight against, and daniel only tutted, clicking his tongue to get your eyes to land on him.

“so now you can talk? i want verbal confirmation as soon as i ask you a question,” he told you, his hands squeezing your hips even tighter to make sure you understood. you were sure it was going to leave bruises tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, in fact, the thought only turned you on more.

“i‘m sorry, dan,” you apologised, eyes pleading with him to continue so you could go back to what you were doing. he nodded, and repeated his question for you. “so, are you going to be a good girl and ride my thigh?” he asked you, eyes trained on your face.

you nodded again, but verbally confirmed it this time too. “yes, danny. i’ll ride your thigh,” you told him, making a small smile appear on his face. you tried to move your hips again, but daniel was still holding you in place. you whined in frustration, hopelessly trying to recreate the friction from moments ago but to no avail. he tutted, shaking his head at you.

“tell me you’ll be my good girl,” he commanded, eyes dark. one thing about daniel, he was always going to make you tell him you were a good girl. his good girl.

“going to be your good girl– but please dan, i need– your thigh again,” you plead, and if it wasn’t obvious by your constant attempts at grinding against your thigh, the urgency in your voice would’ve been a dead giveaway.

“alright gorgeous, you can have it,” he cooed, loosening the grip of his hands on your hips so you could move, but still holding them securely so he could help move you against him.

you couldn’t believe it had taken so long for this to happen, and it was so much better than any fantasy you ever had about it. each grind against his inked thigh sent sparks shooting throughout your body, the whimpers and moans escaping your lips were music to daniel’s ears as his dark, hungry eyes watched the way your body moved.

daniel groaned at the sight of your tits bouncing each time you rut against him, moving between watching them, and the facial expressions you were making due to the immense pleasure from his thigh alone.

“you look so perfect riding my thigh, sweetheart,” he started, making your eyes land back on his face as you focused on his words. “soaking it too, because of how fucking wet you are,” he groaned, and bit his lip at the moan you let out at his words.

he couldn’t stop himself from moving one of his hands up to your chest, toying with your hardened nipple through the fabric. the friction of the fabric, along with the touch of his thumb sent a streak of pleasure through you, head snapping back as you let out a guttural moan.

“can’t keep my eyes off these, either,” he continued, alternating between circling his thumb around your nipple, to squeezing the swell of your breast. “everything about you is perfect. made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, looking into your eyes for confirmation.

“made for you and you only, danny,” you sighed, panting as you felt yourself getting closer. daniel could tell too, your voice pitches up, and he feels your hand’s grip onto him tighter.

“such a good girl f’me. getting close, aren’t you?” he questioned, despite already knowing the answer. he just wanted to hear your needy, desperate voice say anything. you nodded frantically at him, high pitched whines escaping your throat.

“so– fuck, so close, dan” you breathlessly admitted, slightly angling your hips so your clit was getting more friction, and daniel knew you found a good angle when a sudden but pleasant moan escaped you.

daniel suddenly got an idea. “got an idea, sweetheart. it’s gonna help you feel even better, do you trust me?” he asked, waiting to see if you’d agree, or rather just let yourself finish like this. his eyes lit up when you squeaked out a please, hands gripping your waist a little tighter before he started to bounce his leg.

it was somehow better than before, a new experience which felt like absolute euphoria. you let out a shaky, breathy moan as your eyes rolled back, unable to control yourself any longer. daniel moved you back slightly, a little closer to his knee than his thigh, and it worked like magic, as it worked even better.

“fuck– yes, yes daniel–” you panted out, almost falling into the category of babbling due to how much you kept repeating almost incomprehensible chatter, too focused on the feeling of pleasure to respond properly.

“let go for me, c’mon. cum for me,” he coaxed you, feeling your thighs tighten around his own, before you came, chanting out daniel’s name as you rode your high. you immediately fell into daniel’s chest, body slouching as you sighed, smiling lazily when his arms wrapped around you.

it was silent for a while, the only noises being your heavy breaths until you recovered back to your normal state. daniel’s hand gently stroked up and down your back, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head as he let you recover from your orgasm. you used your still shaky hands to push yourself up, meeting face-to-face with daniel as he smiled softly at you, leaning in to initiate a passionate kiss between you.

daniel carefully carried you into your shared bedroom not long afterwards, making sure you were a-okay before helping you get into fresh pajamas and getting you ready for bed. much to your dismay, of course, as you wanted him to clean himself up first, especially after the mess you made on his thigh, but daniel paid no mind to your whining, carrying on with his duties of making sure you were sorted for the night.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo oneshot #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #f1 blurb #smut #em's filth

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studioeisa · 4 months ago

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hard carry 🧮 mingyu x reader.

your math major soulmate is the only reason you’re surviving college, but how long can you rely on him for help?

★ math major!mingyu x art major!reader. ★ word count: 2k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: college/university, alternate universe: soulmates (you and your soulmate can communicate with thoughts), romance, fluff, humor. a math term/solution i am not 100% sure about. reader’s thoughts are in pink while mingyu’s are in blue. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. when are @maplegyu and i not self-indulgent? alas, brainiac!kmg is one of my favorite versions of gyu— so i’m glad to finally have an excuse to play with it. ily, maple!

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ hard carry by got7. no song without you by honne. in the same place by girls on top. let’s love by suho. lilac by iu. mariposa by peach tree rascals. love equation by vixx. common denominator by justin bieber.

Barnett Newman. Helen Frankenthaler. Mark Rothko.

All fantastic abstract expressionist painters, known for their vibrant compositions and color-saturated canvases. Some of your peers turned their noses up at the movement, presumably because it always took a little more of a critical eye to understand it.

You didn’t share the same distaste. Most of the time, you enjoyed the colors, lines, and shapes that all served to be a bigger part of a whole.

If anything, the math problem in front of you was the most abstract thing you’d ever faced.

You stare at the test paper, your pencil hovering uselessly above the page. The numbers have all blurred together— a mess of equations and symbols that could rival the work of Jackson Pollock.

It’s almost comical, how you slot so easily into the stereotype of art-major-who’s-ass-at-math. Some people are an exception to the norm. You are not one of them.

“Fifteen minutes left,” your hard-pressed professor drawls from the front of the classroom, and you snap out of your woe-is-me reverie.

Question five taunts you. If f(x) = 3x² - 4x + 7, find f'(x) and evaluate f'(2).

Derivatives. Okay. You know this. You should know this.

Except, right now, your brain is a blank canvas.

You purse your lips. This isn’t going to bode well for you, but you’d held out this long. You’ll be lucky to get a C on this test— to pass by the skin of your teeth— and so you deserve to get at least one question indisputably correct. Right?

Mingyu. You reach out through the bond, desperate. You there?

Some have said that once you’ve met your soulmate, once you know how they sound like, it’s their voice that rings in your thoughts. If you haven’t, though, you’re left with something more akin to subtitles. Text flashing in your head in a font of your choosing.

(Your poison is Courier New. You asked Mingyu once, what his font for you was, but he never really ‘got back’ to you on it.)

There’s a pause— just long enough for you to feel guilty— before a response flashes in your mind. Aren’t you in the middle of a test?

You can almost imagine his tone. You anticipate it’d be something sharp and warm all at once, which is just your way of coping with how desperate you feel right now.

I’m seriously failing in the middle of my test, you respond. Hopefully, he can read how frantic and desperate you are. I just need a little nudge.

A beat.

You tack on, Please?

If Mingyu could sigh, he probably would have by now. He’s a man carrying the weight of your academic shortcomings, after all. There’s just enough exasperation in his ‘tone’ when he shoots back, Fine. What is it?

Your eyes dart over the problem plaguing you. Once you’ve mentally relayed it to your soulmate, he responds without missing a beat.

Power rule. If you have something like axⁿ, the derivative is naxⁿ⁻¹.

You blink. Say that like I’m five.

So help me, God, Mingyu says, forcing you to tamp down a laugh. Okay. What’s 3x²?

Uh… 6x?

Good. And -4x?

-4?

And a constant?

Zero—

You sit up a little straighter, faltering mid-mental correspondence. So f’(x) is 6x - 4.

Mingyu can’t really sound amused— or proud— but you picture it all the same when he urges you to go on. And f’(2)?

Your pencil is already scribbling furiously across your test paper. Eight, you triumphantly declare. The answer is eight.

There you go, he answers.

For not the first time, you wish you’d already met him. It must be nice to have a smile in your mind, a cadence instead of sentences. But you and Mingyu had agreed that neither of you were in a rush. You were both uni students wanting to explore your individual lives at your own pace before attempting a happily ever after.

It’s only through your ironclad will that you’ve resisted the urge to look him up, to find out if there was a math major named Mingyu within your area.

This is the last time I’m going to help you cheat, he says as you move on to correct your answers for some of the other questions.

A corner of your mouth twitches upward. That’s what you said last time.

Yeah, well, I mean it this time. Get a tutor or something, woman.

Are you presenting yourself?

Don’t tempt me with a good time.

Your professor keeps you from responding immediately. “Five minutes,” she calls out.

Your fingers tighten around your pencil. It wouldn’t be the first or last instance where academic integrity might be compromised because of the whole soulmate bond, but Mingyu is right. You can’t keep summoning him like your personal math genie.

Fine, you concede. I’ll stop bothering you with my [math] problems. Nerd.

Mingyu asked for it, so, really— he’s to blame for missing it.

It’s an odd feeling, this restlessness that comes in the absence of your out-of-the-blue inquiries. The two of you still occasionally reach through the bond to exchange an amicable word or two, maybe recommend a song, but gone are the times you’d come running to him for help.

He’s sitting in the library, his notebook opened to a half-finished proof. His pencil twirls idly between his fingers as he attempts to focus. Instead, his mind keeps drifting to what was once a daily occurrence.

Panicked whispers of Mingyu, help. Last-minute pleas for salvation. Complaints about how math is ruining your life, how this would most definitely not be useful in the real world.

(He would never admit it, but he had always liked when you tangented into the last one. It felt a bit like a betrayal to his field, the endearment he felt whenever you’d flood his mind with paragraph after paragraph cussing out Newton and Leibniz for inventing calculus.)

With a sharp sigh, he stabs his pencil into the spiral binding of his notebook and leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. His fingers drum against the desk. His leg bounces. He debates reaching out first— just to check, just to make sure you haven’t actually given up on math altogether. But what would he even say?

Hey, fail another test yet? Are you alive, or did calculus finally take you out? I kind of miss you annoying me. Don’t let it go to your head.

No, no, and definitely not.

He doesn’t even know you like that. You’re soulmates and that’s pretty much it. He’s lucky that you’ve been rather chill about the whole affair, not hurrying to meet him and lock him down like other soulmate horror stories he’s heard.

He knows bits and pieces. Your major, your love for survival reality shows, your utter distaste for anything beyond multiplication.

Mingyu mumbles something like “for fuck’s sake” to himself. He tries to refocus, and he manages to make it halfway into his homework when it comes.

Mingyu.

When you wanted to tell him something inconsequential, like The new Fantastic Four movie sucked or I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now, you went straight into it. You only ever ‘said’ his name when it was related to numbers.

Took you long enough, he says, his lips twitching.

Shut up. I was trying to figure it out on my own this time.

And?

Your brief moment of hesitation has Mingyu wondering if he’s too cruel. His mother had always advised him to be nice to his soulmate, to not overwhelm you, and he contemplates throwing in an apology. Before he can, though, you’re back in his head.

I need you.

Something in his chest tightens. He tells himself it’s just relief.

(The truth of the matter is this: Mingyu liked being needed by you. He wasn’t sure yet why, but he did.)

Yeah, yeah, he responds as he absentmindedly sketches a heart into the corner of his notebook. What’s the problem?

You’re starting to think that a tutor might not be that bad of an idea.

While Mingyu is always obliging, the guilt of relying on your connection was beginning to weigh on you. You scoured the university boards until you found a girl named Somi willing to meet with you twice a week, and it was going pretty well.

Still— is it weird to admit that you kind of miss running to Mingyu?

You try your darndest to keep those thoughts catalogued. A couple of your friends have talked about accidentally slipping some of their innermost thoughts to their soulmates, and God forbid Mingyu find out that you crave his dry wit.

You can’t miss somebody you’ve never met.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you go to Mingyu less and less, instead filling in the gaps of your conversation with menial, everyday things.

What coffee do you usually drink?, you ask him one afternoon.

You’re in the world’s slowest-moving line, at the cafe you and Somi frequented for your tutoring sessions. Your phone is dead, you’ve analyzed the art on the walls at least seven different ways, and there’s no one around for you to talk to. Might as well abuse the soulmate connection.

His response comes in by the time you’re nearly at the front of the line. Iced Americano, he responds. Why?

No reason.

“Next.”

You offer a sympathetic smile to the dead-eyed barista at the counter. “Once large iced Americano, please,” you say.

You go to stand off to the side. As you’re waiting for your order, Mingyu asks a question of his own.

What about you?

What about me?

What’s your go-to order?

You contemplate it for a moment. Salted caramel cream cold brew.

The barista hands you your drink. A corner of your lip twitches upward as you accept it, Mingyu’s response coming in at the same time.

That sounds obscene, he taunts. A toothache in the making.

Hey. You’re mentally britsling, readying to defend your coffee of choice. I’ll have you know—

“Oomf!”

This was sometimes the problem about getting lost in your thoughts. You tend to get dragged out of the real world, stuck in your conversation. You exchange a quick apology with the person you bumped into, the tips of your ears flaming red.

With your drink in hand, you make a beeline for the table that you and Somi always sit at. You’re distracted enough to forget that you were mid-‘conversation’ with Mingyu, and so you barely register that your usually punctual tutor has yet to arrive— or that someone else is coming up to your table once you’ve settled in.

Later, you will get a text from Somi telling you something came up, but not to fret; she called in a friend to help. Someone who was more than willing to pick up Somi’s slack after joking that he’d already been doing it for the soon-to-be-love-of-his-life.

Your gaze flicks up to the boy standing in front of you.

‘Cute.’ ‘Cute.’

It’s a two-way record scratch.

The stranger hovering by your table seems to freeze, too, and the pieces fall together in your head like a puzzle— no. It’s like when you squint at an abstract painting and the whole thing comes together.

You had said sorry earlier, hadn’t you? To the person you bumped into. He had apologized as well.

Now, there was a voice to the words in your head. A face to the soulmate you’d been missing.

“Hey,” your soulmate says, he says out loud.

He plops down into the seat across from you, trying and failing to fight off the biggest smile on his face. There’s no need to exchange introductions. He says your name, and it’s so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

When Mingyu sets down his drink, you actually laugh.

It’s a salted caramel cream cold brew.

#mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #mingyu drabble #(🥡) notebook #(💎) page: svt #📰 ylangelegy hits 1k

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yoonia · 3 months ago

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Love is Banned | jay b

— title: Love Is Banned | pairings: Jaebum/Jay B (GOT7) x female reader | genre: pwp (porn with very little plot), post break-up!au, brother’s best friend!au | word count: 10,901 words

— summary | Heartbroken beyond repair, you escape to your brother’s place hours away from home, desperate to avoid the Valentine’s Day soiree happening around you—only to find yourself trapped in the middle of his love-filled house party. Seeking solitude, you are surprised to find the perfect source of comfort from the last person you had ever expected to meet tonight.

— full fic ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; involves swearing, alcohol consumption, drunk sex (with consent), explicit sex, teasing and drunk flirting, sex/dirty talk, soft dom!Jaebum, inexperienced reader, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, clit play, hair pulling (male), restraints/light bondage, light spanking, breast play, nipple play, biting, rough sex, exhibitionism kink, minor pain kink, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, unprotective sex, creampie, minor aftercare.

— story note: part of Lost Boys: Threadbare Hearts series | I was supposed to post this on Valentine’s Day, but life kept getting in the way and this took way longer than expected to finish. This fic was roughly edited, but I hope you can still enjoy reading this one. | If you’re interested to be tagged/notified on any of the other stories included in the series, please enter your blog username/url through the taglist form here.

— tracklist: worst behaviour — kwn, kehlani / I can’t wait to get there — the weeknd / slow grind — muni long / slow — wizkid, anais cardot

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Those words slip out of you before you can stop yourself.

Because this room was supposed to be empty. At least, that was what you were hoping to find when you came up here.

Placed far in the hidden corner upstairs of your brother’s home, the small guest room should have been a safe place. It should have been able to keep you far from the racket happening below.

As far as you know, the room is rarely used—except as a second storage room where your brother would stash his old personal things once he’s no longer using them or when you need to stay over for the night with no disturbance from your brother and his guests. Apart from the two of you, you’ve never known anyone ever using the room.

That had been the reason why you went upstairs and straight to here once you got the chance to escape. To get away from the damn party that you wanted no part in, expecting some peace and quiet, and a moment to yourself.

You never expected to find the room—your safe haven—already occupied.

“I don’t see any rules telling me to stay out of this place,” the man sitting in the darkness responds to you in a mocking tone. You recognise his voice before you get to see his face, as he is almost completely hidden in the shadows with none of the lights turned on, and with his back resting against the foot of the bed where the lights coming through the window can’t reach him.

Judging from the slight slur in his speech, and the large bottle of liquor sitting on his side with half of its content mostly gone, you can tell that he already has some alcohol running in his system. Possibly from drinking here all alone while everyone else is trashing your brother’s home.

He lets out a low chuckle and continues, “And, as far as I know, you don’t live here, so I don’t think you’re one to make the rules anyway.”

You cross your arms, going on the defensive—something that your body has been trained to do since you were a teenager facing the group of rowdy boys that your older brother hung out with back in school. “That’s not what I meant.”

Another low chuckle comes from him before he finally moves, leaning forward until his face is visible under the streaks of dim light filtering from the hallway behind you. Just as expected, your uninvited guest turns out to be Jaebum, one of your brother’s high school best friends who seems to be hanging out around him still. Seeing the recognition on your face, he shows you a grin that no doubt would have been able to make every girl coming in his path blush from head to toe.

Of course, you would know this to be true. You are a woman, after all, and you used to be one of those girls who were drawn to them. Not just girls, too. Other seniors used to flock around them, following everything they did at school while vying for their attention. With your brother being a part of their group, you would often find them hanging out at your family’s house after school, either in the living room or your brother’s bedroom, something that everyone else had always been so envious of while you could never find the comfort in as they used to invade your safe space.

Just like what he is doing now.

You should have expected to find at least one of your brother’s friends to be around when you first came and saw the party happening, knowing that they still hang out together even after years have gone by. You just didn’t expect you were going to come across one of them this way.

“Why are you here anyway? The party’s downstairs,” you curiously ask him once you’ve gotten over your shock. Seeing him now, you cannot help but picture the way you remember him from all those years ago. Years may have passed, but it doesn’t seem like he has changed all that much. He still seems like the same older boy who once made your stomach flutter whenever he was near or when he gave you a bit of attention.

“I’m not really in the mood to join the party,” Jaebum says, shrugging, “I should be asking you the same thing. Why aren’t you downstairs with your brother? I thought you drove all the way here to join his party.”

As if.

You narrow your eyes and scoff, murmuring almost to yourself, “I was supposed to come here to avoid all kinds of parties.”

That was the truth, anyway. While you’ve never specifically celebrated Valentine’s Day before, you’re not someone who has any aversion towards it either. Until recently, when you finally have the reason to.

Dealing with a breakup only days before Valentine’s Day did that to you. It made you become sceptical and bitter, almost allergic to the love fest happening around you. So you decided that you had enough. Knowing how similar your brother is to you when it comes to Valentine’s Day, you drove hours away to his house, thinking that you would be able to spend the night and have the chance to confide in your brother.

What a surprise it was for you to find the house packed with his friends and colleagues, with most—if not all of them—wearing pink, partying together with your brother who had his new girl of the season clinging to his side.

How was I supposed to know that he was so smitten and in love with someone he met while we weren’t in contact that he felt like celebrating tonight?

“Are you staying or going?” Jaebum asks, pointing at the opened door behind you with his chin, with you still standing on the threshold like a lost kitten. “You’re letting all the noise come in. I came here with just as much need to avoid all the ruckus as much as you do.”

Realising that he is right, and you are at risk of missing your only chance to hide from your brother and all the excitement happening downstairs, you step deeper into the room, closing the door firmly behind you. The moment you are engulfed in the darkness, however, you immediately begin to regret it.

Shutting the door only means that you are stuck in the same room with him, with no lights—except for the reflecting streetlights you see coming from the window—and possibly no escape. You look over your shoulder, longing for the brief of peacefulness you found in the hallway, instead of whatever awkwardness waiting for you should you choose to say.

A low chuckle is heard, and you turn to face your brother’s best friend only to see that he isn’t sharing the same uneasiness you are feeling about this odd situation.

“Now, that’s better. So are you going to join me? You’re not going to just stand there all night until the party’s over, are you?” Jaebum teases you as he leans back against the bed, getting as much comfortable as he can while he sits on the cold floor. “Come sit here with me. I don’t bite,” he says while tapping the empty spot right next to him, his grin widening when he adds, “Unless you ask me to.”

You are left with no other options. Saying no to his offer would either send you back to the party downstairs or back to the room you’ll be sleeping in tonight, which is the other guest room that is closer to where the party is since your brother had insisted on keeping you close tonight. Just when you try to imagine yourself turning back around to get back to the party instead of staying, a loud cheer echoes through the house.

Looks like whatever game they did just ended, you wonder, as another cheer breaks through and people start chanting again, telling you that the party is still far from over. Might as well stay here for now rather than regretting it later.

“Fine,” you say with a sigh, before lifting the bottle of whiskey in your hand—one that you stole from the makeshift bar that your brother had set up in the kitchen. “I’ll share if you share yours.”

Through the dim light, you see the familiar grin spreading on his face again. “Don’t worry, I’m quite generous when it comes to sharing pleasure,” he teases with a wink, causing your cheeks to burn.

“Whatever,” you respond, trying your best not to get affected by his presence as you walk over to join him.

As you settle back against the foot of the bed, staying just an arm’s length away from him to stay close yet still distant enough to feel comfortable, your eyes fall on the bottles sitting next to him. The large bottle of high-quality branded liquor has been reduced to nearly half of its content, and there are a couple of small vodka bottles lying close by, with varying levels of contents—either half drunk, emptied, and only two of them still full.

Was he really thinking about drinking all of this alone?

Jaebum tilts his head, noticing the way you are eyeing his drinks. “See anything you’re interested in trying?”

“No, I’m fine,” you hurriedly answer, then take a long drink straight from your bottle to hide your face. You wince at the strong taste of whiskey, but you tough it out and force yourself to speak calmly as if nothing happened, “You look like you’re trying to drink your entire life away.”

Jaebum follows your gaze and laughs softly. “Is that how it looks?” he hums, picking up a small, nearly finished bottle of vodka and tossing the rest of its content down his throat. He savours the taste with a groan and says, “Hmmm…maybe I am. ”

He opens his eyes and looks at you with glossy eyes. Combined with the small smile he is giving you, it’s enough to cause those old familiar flutters to rise in your chest and stomach. You pick up your bottle, taking a mouthful of drink out of it that burns your throat, hoping that it would be enough to wash the feeling down, and maybe cool yourself off before it turns into something more.

Something completely unbidden.

It takes only a couple of shared drinks before you finally start sharing each other’s stories, spilling all the heartaches and misfortunes that both of you have been dealing with while living away from home.

It’s quite surreal to think that both you and Jaebum can find something to relate to and share aside from the booze that you’ve smuggled away from the party. You also find it pleasingly surprising that opening up and talking about your problems turns out to be helpful.

Even more surprising is that it seems equally helpful for both of you.

For you, who had just been dumped by your college boyfriend merely months after he started his new job in a different city, claiming that being in a long-distance relationship was a risk he wasn’t willing to take when he was building his career.

For Jaebum, who had to watch his ex-fiancee marrying someone else just over the weekend, only less than a year from the day they broke off the engagement when she first claimed to be having cold feet about the thought of marriage.

“Well, that sucks,” is all that you can say once he is done sharing his story.

Hearing your comment, Jaebum lets out an incredulous laugh. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say after I just opened up about the lowest moment of my life?”

You only laugh and shrug it off. “What more do you want me to say? Are you hoping for some kind of wise advice? From me? Or a pat on the back while I promise you that everything will be okay?” you retort with a snort, and you don’t miss the way Jaebum rolls his eyes on you.

“I wish I had more to say, but I’m not good with words and I don’t even know you or your ex enough to comment about your life,” you stop with a bitter chuckle, “—or her poor choices.”

Leaning back, you let out a deep sigh. You cannot help but realise that despite the different circumstances you both find yourselves in, you can't deny how similar your situations truly are. “But I do know how terrible it feels to know that the person you want to be with isn’t thinking the same about you. It just—” You let out another sigh, and add, ”—sucks, to be the one left behind feeling like you’ve been tossed aside.”

Jaebum says nothing for a moment but clearly appears to be thinking deeply. “I don’t even know your ex,” he says, “but I can judge—hard—and say that he’s a moron.”

“My brother said the same.” A bitter chuckle slips out of you when you think about your brother’s reaction when you first told him about the bad breakup. You may not have told your brother all the details about your fallen relationship yet, but he was able to comment about what a fool your ex had been to sacrifice a good relationship that he had spent years building with you for a new job that he had barely dedicated a month of his time, much less his entire life to.

But was the relationship you had with him really all that good? Was it enough for you to hold on to those memories as much as you did?

Looking up to the dark ceiling above you, you let your mind wander, as if you can see your entire life written somewhere up there. “I’ve been trying to think of him the same way but it’s hard to do it when I keep remembering all the good things we shared. They might not have been much, but the good memories keep overlapping with all the bad ones just when I try to forget them.”

Jaebum scoffs lightly from your side and nods. “Unfortunately, I can agree on that one.”

To hear the tone in his voice as he says that, and see the haunted look in his eyes when you look at him, an ache pulses in your chest. At the same time, you are surprised to find some comfort just by being here with him, listening to him opening up to you while sharing your own story in a way you haven’t been able to do with anyone else—allowing your lonely, broken souls to meet each other’s match.

Just as silence forms thickly around you, you find yourself looking far back into a distant past and seeing yourself when you were younger. You can also Jaebum then, existing alongside your brother’s other close friends who seemed hard to reach, much less to talk to.

Not the same way you’re doing it now, anyway.

“You know, I always thought you guys were snobs back then. Or maybe I was too intimidated by you. You were all popular in school, and my brother’s warning to stay away from you guys didn’t help much in making me feel less wary about getting close.”

Jaebum snaps a look at you and barks out a laugh. “Wait—What? What did your brother say about us?”

You shrug, smiling when you explain with a chuckle, “He just said it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to get close to you guys. Told me to stay away and not fall for any of your charms and get tricked into joining your band of groupies.”

Once again, Jaebum laughs. “Why the fuck would he say something like that?”

“Who knows?” you answer with a shrug, feigning innocence as you bite back a smile.

Because you know exactly why your brother would give you such a warning.

Compared to your older brother, who was considered one of the most popular kids at school, you were way more inexperienced—both in socialising with people and in relationships.

Your brother may have managed to keep his dating life private—from you, at least—yet the same couldn’t be said about his close friends. Jaebum and the others were quite notorious when it involved the rotation of girls they were constantly seen dating and hanging out with. Most of the boys were known as players, always spreading their charms to anyone around while breaking hearts left and right.

“I guess he was just looking out for me,” you finally admit out loud, realising that your brother may have caught your eyes wandering whenever his friends were close. It was hard not to pay attention when you had these attractive seniors hanging around nearby, sometimes even at your home with your brother. “Even if he used to tease me, he’s still my older brother, after all.”

Jaebum lets out a scoff and laughs. “That’s funny, seeing that he gave us all different kinds of warning when it came to you.”

“What do you mean? What kind of warning?”

Turning his head, Jaebum’s grin widens when he sees your reaction. “He told us that you were off limits. That we shouldn’t even think about talking or flirting with you, much less to ask you out.” Your jaw drops, which only makes him laugh. “Some of us suspected that Bambam had this silly crush on you back then, but was quick to back off after your brother warned us to stay away.”

Surprised to hear this, you cannot help but laugh. It’s not unusual for your brother to meddle with your business. Back then, being a curious teenager, having a meddling older brother felt like a burden. You used to hate it growing up, even if you knew that he only had nothing but good intentions to keep you safe from harm. Looking back at it now as an adult, you only think that the whole situation is hilarious.

“Can’t believe that you guys were so afraid of my brother to follow his silly rules,” you gently mock him while shaking your head.

“Hey! That’s not fair! Have you ever seen your brother when he got mad? Like, really mad?” Jaebum defends himself.

You only laugh in return, knowing exactly what he is talking about. You have seen your older brother’s other side that shows up whenever he is angry, and it’s not often that he may overreact over trivial things that are out of his control. But it doesn’t stop you from finding it funny for a group of bad boys to be so afraid of your brother to not risk breaking his rules.

Not that you believe that you ever had any chance with these boys in the past. You never even dreamed of having any of them make a move on you, much less pay attention to you. You know exactly what kind of girls they were attracted to, and you never saw yourself as anything remotely on par with any of those girls.

“I thought you were tough guys who’d love a challenge. At least, if I remember correctly, that was something that some of you used to brag about back then.”

“You’re one to talk,” Jaebum scoffs. “Have you ever taken a risk, even knowing the consequences and not knowing if it’s going to be worth it?”

You stop for a moment to think. “Well—”

You feel hesitant to answer, only because your mind immediately goes to the things you’ve done only to end up having your heart, hope, and dreams broken to pieces as a result. The latest risk you’ve taken, especially, involved giving your heart to a senior you met at college—someone who was smarter, more popular—that you kept questioning if you were living a dream. You’ve even come close to giving up your dream, ready to take a huge risk of moving to another city and starting over just to be with that person.

And look at where it has gotten you now. Abandoned and forgotten, left to pick up all the broken pieces, only because he wasn’t willing to take the same risk to be with you.

When you still have no answer, Jaebum lets out a scoff. “I knew it. What would a strait-laced girl like you know about taking risks? You should try to live out your life a little, be daring, then you can argue with me about what taking risks truly means.”

You hear what he is saying, yet your mind is stuck on one simple detail. You’ve never really talked to him so openly before, so you’ve never known how he really sees you as a person. Hearing it coming from him only makes you reflect on yourself the way you never did before.

Strait-laced? You wonder to yourself. Is that really how people see me?

You must admit that it doesn’t make you feel good to be seen that way. Having good grades throughout school and college and being a nice girl growing up doesn’t make you a prude.

“Hey, I’ve done stuff!” You turn to face him and start defending yourself. “Unlike you, I’ve done real daring stuff while I was away for college. I climbed a rocky mountain after graduation and built camp on the rocky peaks while there was a storm. I did bungee jumping and paragliding when I went to Bali last summer. I went surfing and—”

Jaebum raises his hands in surrender mode and laughs, cutting you off before you can continue listing all the extreme things you’ve tried ever since you left home. “Okay, daredevil. So you took risks against nature. That’s great and all, but I’m talking about the other risks. Much like how you’re daring me to cross your brother.”

You swallow hard, knowing exactly what he is saying. You look away when you start feeling deep regret over your past decisions and heartaches weighing heavy in your chest. “Oh, have I done those as well.”

Jaebum must have noticed something shifting in your mood, because his gaze softens. So does his voice when he asks, “Was it worth it?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Would I be here planning to drink my ass off until I forget my name if it was?”

A knowing look passes over his gaze. “Your last break up.” He nods, then raises his bottle to knock it against yours. “Maybe you were betting on the wrong things to take a risk on.”

You can only smile. “And of course, you would know about it.”

The low chuckle that he gives as a response sounds hollow. “I sure do.”

Leaning back against the bed again, you take a drink from your bottle—suddenly noticing that you may have gone through more than half of it—and gently ask him, “Tell me then, how do I know what kind of risk I can bet on which I won’t be regretting later on?”

“You know that’s not how it works,” Jaebum says with a low chuckle, “And I don’t think I’m the right person to teach you something like that.”

“Right,” you hum to yourself, suddenly realising how silly it is for you to ask him for such advice.

“Maybe you can start small. Instead of diving directly into something serious like a relationship or making plans to build a future with the first person you meet who gives you attention.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Such as?”

“Ever been on a one-night stand?”

You burst out laughing. “What?”

“No? Never? Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says while shaking his head. While he is right in assuming your lack of experience in that field, it doesn’t stop you from wanting to defend yourself.

“Hey, wait a min—”

“How about casual flings? Anything other than your serious relationships? Ever been in one?”

You open your mouth to answer, only to immediately shut it back up before admitting loudly, “No, not really.”

He nods. “I figured.”

Your jaw drops. You look at him with narrowed eyes. “What does that supposed to mean?”

He tilts his head as he looks at you. At this point, you are beginning to dread the way his grin seems so enticing, and how his low voice is starting to make you feel things inside when he speaks. “It’s just that I can’t see you hooking up with random people just for fun.”

You bite your lips, hating the fact that he is right. You hate knowing he can read you easily even when he barely knows you aside from being his best friend’s sister. But something must have gone wrong with your head—or perhaps you’ve drunk too much alcohol tonight—because you cannot stop thinking about what he is trying to say.

“You’re right, it’s not something that I can see myself getting into,” you admit with a small voice, as you look back into your life and wonder how different it would have been for you if you weren’t someone who feels too much, and too deeply, when it comes to relationships.

“Maybe I should change that,” you finally say, almost to yourself rather than Jaebum. Still, it doesn’t miss Jaebum’s attention that he whips his head towards you.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

You ignore him, already getting too deep in your thoughts—perhaps something that you shouldn’t be doing when you have alcohol in your system. “I’m saying that maybe you’re right.”

“Wait, I didn’t say anything,” Jaebum quickly interjects.

“I never gave casual relationships or hooking up any thought because I’m afraid I’d get emotionally attached, like most girls do,” you turn to him and add, “I’m sure you know this too.”

Jaebum only raises his eyebrows, knowing that you are referring to his history of hooking up with random girls in the past—along with the series of drama which followed every time he ended a fling—and he just lets you continue. “But maybe that needs to change. That’s a risk that I’ve never taken before, but at least I now know not to get my emotions involved.”

He laughs, almost in disbelief. “Are you sure about that?”

“I am,” you stubbornly answer, “because I’ve sworn to keep away from love. Because I’m done with it. From now on, love is completely banned from my life. No more.”

You take a chug out of your drink and continue to ramble before Jaebum can say anything. “But that doesn’t mean that I can't have fun, right? You said it yourself, that I need to live a little, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

You can hear Jaebum chuckling from beside you. “Alright, daredevil,” he teasingly says, “And how are you supposed to do that?” You can tell without looking that Jaebum is narrowing his eyes on you when he sounds sceptical.

So you turn to him, giving him a sweet smile as you explain, “There are people downstairs that I may not see again in the future, right? I could just walk downstairs and pick out someone I’m attracted to and have one wild night before I get home.”

The more you speak, the more you feel doubtful, but you push it down and take pleasure in the way Jaebum’s eyes keep widening the more he listens. But as the excitement grows on you, so does the pounding in your head. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink already. “Although I might have to wait a minute before going down there to join the crowd of people. I need to wait until my head stops spinning.”

He lets out a low scoff and shakes his head at you. “You don’t have to go that far.”

“As a matter of fact, I think—no, I believe I do need to do this,” you cut him off. “I’m done living by the rules and being afraid to take risks that don’t go with my life planning.” Pointing the bottle in your hand his way, you continue to speak, “You were the one who put these ideas in my head, so don’t bother stopping me.”

Chuckling softly, Jaebum leans closer. “That’s not what I was saying,” he gently says, as if he can read your thoughts and knows that you aren’t exactly sure about what you are saying.

“What did you mean, then?”

Jaebum only stares at you with a look that makes you feel like he is trying to strip down every layer you have—not of your clothes, but your truth.

He softly hums before he finally speaks again. “I’m saying that maybe you don’t have to,” he says, once again with that voice of his that would easily draw people to him. Maybe have women drop their panties for him, even. But there is something different now when he speaks to you slowly, with his glossy eyes looking deeply into yours.

“I don’t have to do—what?”

“You don’t have to go through the crowds of drunk people downstairs to find someone, is all I’m saying. Aren’t you worried about your brother finding out what you’re up to? He’s still down there leading the party, isn’t he?”

As if the party itself can hear him, a loud cheer erupts from downstairs, answering his question. You can picture your brother, always the life of the party, being in the center of it. You can already imagine him pulling you to join him the moment he sees you returning to the living room. You have lost track of time, and you quickly realise that your brother can notice anytime that you’ve been gone quite a while and that he might start looking for you soon.

“Then, what should I do?”

Not a word comes from him while you are starting to doubt anything can really happen tonight. Only seconds ago, you felt like you had found your new self. But you know that this drunken resolution will lead to nothing more once you are sober. Before your mind can get into any further wanderings, Jaebum suddenly shifts closer. You turn to find his face already close to yours, while he has his arm resting behind your back and the other winding around your waist.

Surprised at the sudden closeness, you make no move to push him away. Your heart makes a stupid, unexpected leap in your chest, which only accelerates when he starts speaking to you in a low, sultry voice, “You could just look somewhere closer instead of going down there. It’s not like you don’t have a willing participant already available nearby.”

You blink, and blink again, your mind taking its sweet time processing his words that everything seems meaningless. Surely, he couldn’t have meant—

“And who might that be?” you ask with a small voice, which only seems to amuse him.

You watch the grin on his face growing wider before he teases you, “Who else is here? I don’t see anyone else, do you?”

“Hah,” you let out a sarcastic laugh, still refusing to believe what you are hearing, even if your heart is beginning to react, going out of control with its rapid beating. “Stop joking. Now you’re only mocking me.”

“I wish I was joking, but I know what I’m asking,” Jaebum says with a smile on his face, his voice lowering when he asks, “Is it really that hard to believe that I’d make such an offer?”

Before you can process what he is saying, Jaebum leans closer, close enough until you can feel his warm breath falling against your lips. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the strong smell of booze, surrounds you as he keeps you trapped between the foot of the bed and his hard body hovering close so that you can feel his heat.

“It makes perfect sense, don’t you think?” he asks you, already sounding convincing before he even starts laying out his offer, “We’ve both been scorned by our past experience, and while we’ve learned not to fall for it again, we both still have needs. I still need to forget, which drinking seemed to fail in doing, and you need to discover this new side of you without worrying about getting attached. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about it since I know just exactly how to do it. And you know who I am, so you’d know how to find me and kick my butt off in case you regret it in the morning.”

We’re still not friends, and not close enough for that level of trust, is what you want to say to him.

But the words refuse to leave your lips, and your mind is getting hazy from how close he is getting. His nose brushes against yours, and your heart once again makes a giant leap which is so hard to ignore. He tilts his head, his lips coming closer to yours for a little tease, making your lips tingle.

“Well? Come on, think about it,” he murmurs, with his lips hovering close but not enough to touch. Yet, between your hazy mind and the alarm bells ringing inside your head—warning you about your brother and his rules, about how much of a bad idea this is—you can feel yourself drawn into it. Drawn into him.

“I think—” you barely manage to say, “This is going to be a bad idea.” You lift your gaze to look into his eyes and immediately feel like you are drowning in the depth of his gaze.

Jaebum bites his lips while lowering his gaze. “What if I can change your mind?”

“What are you planning—oh!”

Whatever it was that you wanted to say dies on your tongue when Jaebum presses his lips on yours. He tenderly moulds his lips against yours, instead of devouring them in a heated kiss. Yet it’s still enough to steal words from your mouth.

I must be going crazy, is the last thing that comes across your mind before you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss, allowing yourself to melt into his heat. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, pleased to know that he has practically won you over as you press your lips harder against his.

As he deepens the kiss, the world around you seems like it’s spinning. It takes a moment before you realise that your whole body is tilting backwards, pushed under his weight as he gently lowers you back on the floor. The dust-covered carpet cushions your weight as you rest on your back. While you are trying to get comfortable, your eyes flutter open to see him slowly crawling over you.

A soft moan slips out of you as he reclaims your mouth again. His tongue reaches inside, as if demanding you to pay attention to him instead of letting your mind wander and let it get filled with doubt. He runs his hands down your waist, his chest pressing you down against the hard floor, and then he stops when you protest with a whimper when your back starts rubbing against the rough carpet beneath you.

“Hmmm, this won’t do,” he murmurs against your lips, his eyes searching your face to find any sign of discomfort. With a hum, he glances over to the bed and pushes himself up.

The world around you starts spinning once again as Jaebum scoops you up from the floor and lifts you in his arms. You barely have the chance to hold on when he moves towards the bed and gently lays you down on the mattress. The sheets feel cold beneath you, yet he quickly makes it up with his warmth when he joins you.

The sight of him hovering above you, with his eyes glowing in the dark, full of dark intent, feels like a part of a fever dream. Everything that he said he wanted to do to you, you can see it in his gaze. It’s enough to leave you breathless, to make you feel hot inside. To feel like you are wanted.

A grin forms on his face as he asks, “Now, where were we?”

Once again, the crippling doubt inside you holds you back, when you can easily pull him down to you and take over. “You were trying to convince me,” you answer with a whisper, when you wish to feel his kiss again so he can stop you from thinking so hard.

“Did I do a good job, then?”

You take a deep breath. “I—” you try to answer, but the moment you see the look he is giving you, everything inside you, including your sane mind, simply stops working.

Outside, coming all the way from downstairs, the music is still blaring loudly the later it gets in the night. The sound of people dancing, chatting, and cheering over some sort of drinking game can be heard through the thick walls.

But here, the air is getting thick with tension, and it’s hard to focus on anything else when you are pressed down against the hard mattress beneath you, and you have your brother’s best friend hovering on top of you with a sick, teasing grin on his face.

And oh, how much you struggle to keep your eyes away from those enticing lips, knowing how good they feel when they are pressed against yours.

All you have to do is lean closer or pull him down to you, and you can have that kiss once again.

“So? What do you say?” he asks again while his gaze moves to your lips, lingering for a few seconds too long as he catches you licking your lips, tasting the ghost of his kiss. “It’s a one-time offer, and time is ticking. How much longer do you think before your brother comes up here and catches us together?”

You cannot help but grin at the mention of your brother. “Aren’t you afraid that he might just do that and break your nose again like he did years ago?” you ask, referring to the infamous incident in the past when they had a massive fight over a silly girl who turned out to be playing these boys around—the perfect reverse play of what they used to do to the girls at school who worshipped the ground they walked on.

Jaebum only laughs it off, and your heart skips a beat when you realise how much his voice has changed over the years. And how much you still love hearing it the same way you did then.

“I think it’ll be worth the risk. As long as you’re in.”

Worth the risk.

Yeah, there’s nothing stopping your heart from trying to break free from your chest now that you hear such words. You shouldn’t believe it. But you want to believe it. You want to believe that he thinks you are worth risking your brother’s wrath.

“Well? Are you in? Or are you going to walk out that door and forget everything we just talked about?”

You bite your lip as you consider your options. His offer is tempting, but are you brave enough to take that risk?

One night. No attachment. No promises. And you get to leave this place free of your pent-up frustrations and needs. Maybe dare yourself to feel some pleasure from the one you are forbidden to touch.

Even if you might have to ignore the familiar flutters in your chest rising the more you look at him—the same way it used to happen all those years ago whenever you saw him when he was hanging out with your older brother.

“Not a chance,” you answer him with a grin, before you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, your arms coming around his neck as you pull him down towards you. “Game on.”

Wearing a victorious smile on his face, Jaebum claims your mouth in a kiss, and your entire body softens. He pushes his tongue to deepen the kiss, taking possession of every last bit of doubt you might still have left until there is nothing more but lust and passion and all you can feel is the need you want him to fulfil.

Clutching the back of his shirt, you begin to pull it upward, and he slips down to let you strip him off of it before he does the same with your top. Tossing your blouse away, Jaebum begins crawling down, his lips tracing the length of your neck on his way down, brushing gently on your breasts as he peels your lacy bra off of your skin. Then he continues making his way down, his hands grabbing hold of the waistband of your pants before tucking them down your legs, taking your flimsy panties along with it.

Cold breeze washes over your skin once you are left bare and naked on the bed, but it’s quickly replaced by the heat of his gaze perusing you with a look of hunger written on his face. He runs his hands down your waist, to your hips, sliding them under your thighs as he bends down to trace your skin with his kisses. You feel his mouth moving close to your center, causing your heartbeat to pick up its pace.

He doesn’t waste his time teasing you. Tightening his grip on your thighs, he smoothly dives between your legs, burying his face at the center of your heat.

A moan slips through your lips when you feel his tongue slipping through your wet folds. You feel his mouth wrapping itself around your clit and giving it a suck, causing your back to arch and a louder moan comes rumbling out of you when a delectable rush comes flowing through your body. Your hand clumsily land on his head, fingers winding through the strands of his hair as you search for something to hold on to while you rock your hips against his lips.

You hear him chuckling softly and moaning against your heat, before he begins to move his tongue and mouth more aggressively, alternating between pushing his tongue into your warmth and licking your arousal to suckling on your throbbing clit. His actions drive you over to the edge, your orgasm tearing your body as you continue to rock against his face, following the rhythm of your pulse.

It comes too quickly, stemmed from your pent-up frustrations and nerves, yet neither of you has yet to have enough. Finger clenching tightly on the strands of his hair, you push his face to your quivering center, wordlessly telling him not to stop. With a hum, Jaebum continues—lapping, licking, and sucking—and adds his fingers into the mix, pushing them deeply through your pulsing walls and causing another dynamic orgasm to tear through your body.

“Jaebum…fuck!” you curse between your cries of pleasure, unable to hold your voice down.

Yet he makes no sign of stopping. The sounds you are making only seem to be urging him on, as he continues working his mouth and fingers on your heat.

It isn’t until moments later, as the spasms coming out of your center begin to subside, that Jaebum finally lets you go. With one last kiss on your soaking folds, he pulls away and shifts back until he reaches the foot of the bed.

As he rises on his feet, you open your eyes to look at him, marvelling at the sight of him—his chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his messy hair that comes from the work of your fingers, and his slick lips, still wet from your release.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now,” he murmurs while he starts working on his belt and pants, his eyes never wavering from you as he takes everything off.

Keeping your gaze on him, you follow every movement as the final pieces of clothing leave his skin. Your breath catches at the sight of his thick shaft bobbing out of its restraint. You can almost see it twitching and pulsing as Jaebum continues to look at you, his gaze runs from the tip of your toes to your hair, going back and forth as he takes his time to get his fill of the image of you lying vulnerable on the cold bed.

This is happening, you tell yourself as you inhale a deep breath. You cannot believe that you are seconds away from actually fucking your brother’s best friend. It feels hot and naughty—risky—but the thought itself is so damn enticing that your body is humming with new desire.

Jaebum licks his lips and wraps his hand around his rigid cock. His gaze remains on you as he slowly strokes himself, getting himself harder. The sight of him touching himself while watching you does wild things to your mind. It feels exhilarating, and you don’t even question if this sensation has anything to do with the drink you had earlier, knowing that this is all because of him.

Feeling brazen under his gaze, you move your hands to trace your skin, going up until you reach your bare breasts. Gently, you cup the soft flesh with your palms and begin kneading, and embrace the waves of heat rolling through your body. The sensation gets stronger when you watch him licking his lips, his hand moving slightly faster, as if watching you has put him in a trance.

“Are you going to just stand there and watch? Or am I going to have to do this alone?” you tease him with a low voice that sounds completely unfamiliar to your own ears, while slowly folding your legs up, spreading them open to show him where you want him to be.

A groan slips out of his lips as he watches you, enthralled, and Jaebum hastily climbs the bed, moving swiftly to cover your body with his. “I already promised that I’ll be the one showing you everything,” he grumbles as he covers your wrists with his hands and gently pulls them away from your chest. Holding your wrists together in one hand, he brings them over your head and keeps them there.

“Hold still,” he whispers, as if restraining you wouldn’t be enough to keep you from moving. “And try to keep your voice down this time. We don’t know if anyone is going to find their way up here.”

He covers your mouth with his and your body relaxes against his as you lean into the kiss. He presses you down into the bed under his weight and starts running his free hand down your body. You feel his touch on your breast, already sensitive after your teasing touch, and your chest arches into his palm.

Jaebum pinches your nipples, and then he bends down, his mouth capturing one peak after another, tongue swirling around the tips until they become hard and raw.

“Ah, fuck—” you curse with a gasp when each brush of mouth and finger sends delicate sparks that travel all the way down to your core. Everything inside you throbs—not of pain, but pleasure—and you can no longer hold back the cries coming out of your lips when Jaebum latches on one nipple and gives a light bite.

Hearing your voice, Jaebum releases his mouth from your throbbing nub with a pop and pulls back just enough for you to look at his face. Under the shadows of the limited lights filtering through the windows, his gaze feels intimidating, yet enthralling at the same time. The way he looks at you makes you feel desirable that it unleashes everything inside you that you never knew existed.

“I told you to keep your voice down,” he complains with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Anyone can hear you if they get anywhere close, and it won’t be long for your brother to find out what we’re doing.”

“I thought you were willing to risk it?” you tease him, which only makes his eyes grow darker.

“Are you challenging me?” he asks you with a low voice. It stirs the insides of your belly, yet you ignore it for the moment and shrug playfully.

“What if I am?”

A low chuckle rumbles from him. There is a dark glint in his eyes as he gently pulls your thigh up, folding your leg until your hips are slightly lifted from the bed. A wicked smile spreads on his face as he leans down, pressing his lips on the corner of your lips and murmurs, “Naughty girl.”

Anticipating a kiss, you never expect to feel pain flashing from the side of your bare bottom, inflicted by none other than his wandering palm.

“Hey!”

Opening your eyes widely, you see him grinning with pride. He tightens his hold on your wrists to keep you still as you wriggle beneath him while he runs his other hand around the burn from his unwarranted smacking.

“What? Don’t naughty girls deserve to be punished and spanked?”

Something sparks inside you. While you are more inexperienced compared to him, you have learned about a variety of sex plays that one could enjoy in bed to know what he is doing. “Oh, so you like that kind of game, huh?”

Jeabum bites your bottom lip. “It’s not a game, baby. I like to be in control,” he murmurs, then lifts his head to look into your eyes to ask, “Are you afraid of me? Will that scare you?”

Nibbling your lips, you consider his words. You’ve never known that pain could be so pleasing. Your skin still burns after the impact of his light spanking, yet it seems to amplify the pleasure pulsing right inside your core when the pain is slowly subsiding under his incessant touch.

“No,” you answer with a whimper, “Not at all.” You stop fighting his restraint and instead use it as leverage as you push your hips upward, taunting him, “Come on, show me how you’re going to punish me for being bad.”

“Fuck,” he chuckles nervously, stunned, but is quick to recover as he folds your legs up and smacks the other side of your butt in response. A sharp gasp leaves your lips when you feel the sting, which turns into a soft sigh as he gently rubs the pain away, giving you a brief moment of respite before landing another smack near the tender skin that he first touched.

Jaebum repeats the light smacking a couple of more times, going back and forth from one side to another, always followed by gentle touches to soothe the pain away. By the time he is done, the pain no longer stings so badly. The throbbing on your skin has travelled deep into your center, replacing every bit of pain with pleasure so raw that is barely comprehensible to your mind.

“Oh, you liked it, didn’t you?” Jaebum teases you with a low whisper, chuckling softly at the way you are rocking your hips against his palm. Letting go of your hand, he holds down your hips and slips his fingers between your folds, humming softly as he is met with your slick arousal.

“Look at you, getting hot and wet after a bit of spanking. I never expected that you would have this wanton side hidden under your good girl facade,” he keeps muttering as he continues pushing his fingers inside your heat, moving them between your throbbing walls at a languid pace while you begin rocking back into his fingers. “I kind of like this side of you.”

You can barely hear his voice at this point. Your mind is blinded by the sensations you are feeling. Incoherent noises keep coming out of your lips, and your body is moving on its own, chasing for every bit of pleasure you can get from his touch.

Jaebum bends down, pressing his lips on the tip of your breasts. “Fuck, I want to be inside you so bad, baby,” he mutters breathlessly between giving your nipples teasing kisses. The touch of his lips feels distracting, along with the steady thrusts of his fingers inside your heat as pleasure rocks through your body, making it hard for you to focus on his words. Yet you still don’t miss what he is trying to say.

Rocking your hips against his, you look up through your bleary eyes and whisper, “Yes, please. I need you…inside me…now.”

You are not one to beg for anything. Ever. Nothing like this. But the need to feel him is clawing at your chest. You want him. Your body needs him. And there is nothing that can stop you from begging him to let you have him.

Jaebum says nothing, but his actions are enough to answer your plea. Pushing his fingers deeper, he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing the flesh just enough to send your body spiralling towards the edge.

Trying your best to hold back your cries, you bite your lip and bury your fingers on his shoulders. But Jaebum isn’t one to let you go off easily. With his mouth still working around your breast, he gives your nipple a lick, before capturing the hardened nub between his mouth. You feel him humming against your skin, right around your puckered flesh, before a searing pain sparks across your body when he bites down.

“Ah…fuck. Jaebum!”

Screaming out his name, you almost cry as your orgasm tears right through your body. While it’s not yet enough to satiate your need, it is still enough to make you feel like you are floating up high. Every cell in your body sings, all coming alive under his touch, and the heat unfolding in your core spreads like wildfire.

Before you can recover, Jaebum has already made his move. Looking pleased with himself, a smile spreads on Jaebum’s face as he pulls back, dragging his fingers carefully out of your pulsing heat, leaving behind the rapid throbbing inside you to fill the void he left behind.

Without wasting any more time, he rises on the bed and pulls your ankles up to his shoulders, keeping your hips elevated. Then he presses forward and drives his full length into your quivering core with one firm thrust. You cry out loudly at the force of his thrust. You may have gotten slick and wet enough for him to slide in easily, but your pussy is still sensitive after the multiple orgasms that the intrusion drives a delicious pain that rocks your entire body.

Your back arches off the bed, and he is quickly drawn towards your full breasts as they once again rise before his eyes. His hand that isn’t holding your thigh up reaches down to give your soft flesh a firm hold.

He gives your breast a gentle knead, taking away your attention from the tightness down below as he begins to fuck you hard with deep rhythmic thrusts, his hard shaft plundering your body.

“Oh…oh, God!” you keep sputtering random words when you feel the pleasure rising inside you like a tidal wave.

He continues driving into you, getting deeper with each thrust and sending you almost slipping on the bed. His hands move down, gripping your hips to pull you back to him before you are pushed all the way back to the end of the bed. Driving you back against him allows him to get deeper. You feel the force knocking the air out of your chest, while waves of pleasure keep rolling through your body with each thrust, each rock of his hips, and you find yourself already hanging over the edge of your climax.

You reach up, grasping a hold of his strong arms as you join the rhythm of his thrusts, rocking and pushing against him at the same pace, until you begin to feel the ripples of your climax rising, uncoiling, ready to devour you as you quickly reach for the edge.

Opening his eyes, Jaebum drops one of your legs, keeping hold of the other just to keep you spread open for him as he bends forward, enveloping your body with his. His mouth finds yours then, kissing you deeply to swallow the sounds of your moans. Then his lips begin to move away, going down your chin, crawling its way to the column of your throat, before going up again to capture your earlobe.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you for so long,” he whispers to your ear, too soft of a voice for such dirty words that it makes your head spin hearing it coming from him. Then he thrusts forward, pressing deeper before he begins rocking again, hard and fast, he continues pumping his thick cock into the depth of your warmth. “Fuck, you feel so damn good!”

You give in to the rising pleasure, your head falling back into the pillows while your chest once again rises and arches with how intense it feels. Your mind is filled with bliss, that you can barely focus on his words, or anything else that is happening around you.

The party below seems so far away, even if you can still hear the beat of the music vibrating through the floor and walls. But none of it matters now. What matters to you right now is him; the pace of his thrusts that continue relentlessly without fail, moving faster and harder, and the way he is working your body with his expert hands.

The grip that he has on your hips feels unyielding, anchoring you to him while denying you escape as he chases for his climax. You can feel his fingers pressing harder into your skin, nails scrapping on your soft flesh, no doubt leaving some marks and indents that you may find much later on once everything is over.

“Are you close?” he breathlessly asks while moaning, showing you signs of his coming release.

The answer coming out of your mouth sounds like a sharp cry, “Mmmh—yes!”

Jaebum captures your chin and turns your face to look at him. “Keep your eyes on the door. You’ve been loud for a while now, and I know you didn’t lock the door when you came in,” he gently says, grinning as realisation dawns on you. He’s right. That was quite a risk to take for you to enter the room without locking and going further with this whole thing without checking things over. Fear grips at your chest, though it only intensifies the pulsing happening down below, right here he is burying his cock into.

“What would your brother think if he sees you like this, writhing like a pure, little nymph and taking my hard cock deep inside your pussy?” Jaebum questions you with a voice so low it almost sounds like a growl.

You have no idea which triggers the most delightful, yet the most carnal pleasure to roll through your body; the deep voice which vibrates from his chest, his dirty words that are planting these wicked images in your mind, the steady thrusts of his cock inside your heat, or the visual image of getting caught fucking your brother’s best friend, in your brother’s house, while people are partying downstairs and most possibly hanging out in the other rooms present on this floor.

“Fuck, you’re tightening around me. Thinking about getting caught turns you on, huh?” Jaebum says with a furious grunt, yet without missing a single thrust as he rocks his body against yours. He pushes deep and shudders, just as your walls are clenching tight around him.

“Oh, yeah. That’s it, baby.”

He keeps muttering the same words over and over again, coming together with his incessant thrusts. You watch as his eyebrows crease, as the veins in his neck are straining, his breathing laboured heavily, and the sounds he keeps making are mixed with a series of moans. You can feel the telltale signs of his release pulsing inside your depth, going in the same rhythm as yours as it begins to rapidly build up inside you.

Getting lost in the pleasure, Jaebum digs his fingers into your hips and thighs as he continues to savagely pound into you. When once again his body shudders, your body pleasantly trembles at the same time.

“Look at me, baby,” his strained voice growls, demanding your attention. And you simply give it to him, wanting to look at the one who is giving you this carnal pleasure right in the eyes just to convince yourself that this is real.

Once your eyes are on him, your body is giving in to the pleasure, Jaebum moves his hand between your rocking bodies. You feel a slight pressure on your throbbing clit as his thumb finds your sensitive bud, and you can feel your muscles clamping around his cock, sucking around his girth as he slides in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Come for me, baby,” he growls, just in time you feel the coil in your stomach snapping, then he gives your clit a sharp flick while he buries himself deep inside you. “Come.”

Under his command, you tip over the edge, shattering into a million pieces that shoot up through you like a fountain. Your chest feels tight when you scream out your climax, yet neither of you cares to stop it as he joins you with his deep moans. Jaebum continues giving you a couple of more thrusts, until you feel him shuddering at the same time your whole body quakes with your final release, and he joins you with a loud shout coming out of his lips, the warmth of his cum filling your tight walls that it almost sends you to another orgasm.

You almost lose your sense of balance, when you can barely recognise between left and right, top to bottom, until you feel your body—now all hot and covered with sweat—pressing against the sheets beneath you, all messed up under your weight and the rigorous fucking, and the slickness of his cum seeping out of your throbbing center.

When you feel him lowering your trembling leg down to the mattress, you slowly open your eyes, finding Jaebum bringing one of your hands to his lips. He kisses your wrist, before stepping away to grab his discarded shirt to start cleaning all the mess pooling on the apex of your thighs.

“Do you think we were too loud?” you whisper to him once he is done and joins you back on the bed, lying right beside you with a content sigh.

The sounds from the party below have started to grow distant, a sign that the party is slowly winding down, but not completely ending just yet.

While the rest of the house is still filled with the remaining noises from the party, the room is filled with the silence that falls heavy once all the delirium comes to a halt.

As you lie there on the bed, with the shards of your climax still continuing to course through your limbs while you are struggling to control your breath, you feel your body warming up with contentment and the presence of Jaebum’s body heat as he pulls you close to his chest.

Meanwhile, your mind seems to have sobered up, allowing you to process everything that had just happened.

As if he can feel the gears in your brain working hard, Jaebum shifts on the bed, and once again his face comes into view.

“Want to get out of here? My new place is within walking distance from here. Maybe we can continue where we left off and finish the rest of the alcohol we still have before your brother catches us with the stolen goods.”

His offer seems genuine. It also provides a chance to escape the possibility of having to deal with reality, and everything else that involves your brother and facing the consequences of your actions. And you do still have some bottles to finish.

“I like that idea.”

Your body is still strained and sore, yet it doesn’t take long for both of you to get dressed and pack up all of the remaining bottles to take with you in your escape.

You can barely remember how you manage to slip away from the house unnoticed, even with the party still lingering and your brother’s guests lounging tiredly everywhere you look, or how you are able to reach Jaebum’s new apartment on your wobbly legs.

Everything blurs as you continue your business with Jaebum at his place for the rest of the night until morning comes, only that none of it involves finishing the rest of the alcohol that you’ve managed to snatch away from your brother’s party, but has everything to do with the lessons that Jaebum had promised you about embracing pleasure. And you make no effort to put a stop to it when Jaebum continues giving you pleasure until the next day comes, continuing while your minds are completely sober.

Seems like you actually are terrible with all this one-night stand business, after all.

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