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so many comments and suggestions to read BCBTY đ and im so so so ready and excited to read sheesh đŽâđ¨
-âáŻâś heyyy :)
HAHA I loved knowing this! makes writing so much fun, so thank you.
and I'll be waiting for your feedback đ§Ą I truly hope you like it!
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HIII i was introduced to your beautiful blog through BCBTY and can i just say how obsessed i am with you .. i read both parts in one sitting and you had my adhd ass SAT !! your writing is so beyond amazing <3 while i wanted to let you know how infatuated with you i am .. i couldnt help but stalk your page *chuckles nervously* and i saw your marauders fics omfg .. while i do know very little abt them (i refuse to put myself thru the pain of reading atyd) i do love the hp universe and jungkook so very much, and i just thought it was so cool to find someone else with the same interests, especially with them being so different đĽšđ ahh, okay ill stfu now .. AGAIN so obsessed with BCBTY and cant wait for more of them <3
-âáŻâś listen- I suddenly got all fuzzy and excited inside, and I'll warn you- I'm just the worst at receiving compliments, especially because I don't even know how to thank you enough!!
I'm so happy you liked BCBTY! from one fellow adhd brain to another, it means so much to me to read that it's enjoyable AND that it's manageable to read in one sitting đ§ĄđĽš I'll write more for it soon, promise.
and oh my god?! I just can't believe how similar we are by what you're telling me?! ( I also refused to read atyd, even though I love everything inside the hp universe sos ).
*PS. although this is a sideblog ( I had a case of a love-hateâstuck on the hate atmârelationship with my main ), you can bet I'll stop by your asks from now on hehe I hope to see you here again too <3
I'm really glad you reached out! and thank you thank you thank you. you're genuinely super sweet!
sending you much love,
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Maâam, I just finished the two parts of BLOODY CRAWLING BACK TO YOU, what a fucking experience I had 𫩠it was SO delicious, the yearning that jk had for that woman, listen- I think you ruined a little bit the e2l for me because this was so well written đŠâ¤ď¸âđŠš
Also Iâm a new follower, I donât know if you have answered this before but is that like a on-going/ sporadic series or just 2 part?
-âáŻâś let me just start by apologising deeply for my lack of response!!! I just saw my inbox and noticed your ask has been sitting here for a long whileâand such a lovely ask too.
THANK YOU so much for taking the time and being so sweet with your review! you just gave me the biggest compliment ever ( since I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers myself ), and as for the yearning, I mean... it's not enemies to lovers if it isn't there, am I right? haha đ§Ą
as for bloody crawling back to you, it will be a sporadic thing! I'm not ready to say goodbye to it yet... and I have a more-or-less outlined drabble of how they first met to post still. and who knows, I can always explore them as a couple from now on too, if you guys have any interest, that is!
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âś SECRETS IN THE SUNLIGHT
in which... you offer to help remus lupin with sunscreen, only to discover the scars heâs been hidingâand the reason he canât let himself kiss you, even when he wants to.
pairing: remus lupin x gryffindor f!reader word count: 1.6k content warning: angst âś fluff âś some cursing, marauders being marauders, the feeling of being a bit uncomfy in your skin, scars, and moony's sad poet's hours as sirius would like to call them. a/n: soft summer core vibe made especially for a dear friend of mine who's been crushing on lupin too hard... the only setback isâshe crushes on angst harder !
đ°đ đđđ late June and the Black Lake had never looked more like ink and velvet soft.
The war hadnât touched the school yet. Not really. There were whispers in corners and headlines folded under textbooks, but that day, the only thing that mattered was the sun, the stretch of freedom, and the way the air smelled like pine and mischief.
It was Jamesâs idea, of course. Summer was here, N.E.W.T.s were done, and he was finally back with Lily after a week-long, soul-shattering breakup over that prank on Snape. Sheâd thrown a book at his head in the common room. Now, she was perched beside him on a blanket with her legs draped over his, her fingers tucked into the sleeve of his tee as though she still didnât quite believe he was real.
Sirius arrived fashionably late on his ridiculous flying bike, with Cassandra Lockhart clinging to him like something out of a forbidden novel. CassandraâCass to everyone else, Trouble to Siriusâlooked like the kind of girl mothers warned sons about. Slytherin to the bone, but smarter than any of them, and always dressed like sheâd walked out of an editorial spread: black bathing suit, emerald-green silk shirt tied at the waist, and dark sunglasses perched atop her rich dark-brown hair. She barely acknowledged the others, but when Sirius helped her off the bike and whispered something at her temple, her smirk alone said everything.
And then there was Lupin.
Remus Lupin had that sort of quiet prettiness that wasnât made to be noticed at first glance, but stuck with you. Soft eyes. Thoughtful hands. Always in linen or soft knits, like he was made of rainy Sundays and underlined poetry. He stood with his arms crossed, watching Sirius and Cass from the tree line with a half-smile, as if he didnât quite believe what he was seeing.
You werenât far off, lacing up your trainers again after kicking them off for a swim. Your hair was still damp, clinging to the curve of your neck. Shorts. Sports bra. Tan lines forming from all the running youâd done lately just to think clearly.
You werenât close to Cass, but you didnât dislike her. She was dangerous in the way girls were allowed to be when they didnât care if people liked them. You were too busy trying to make your professors proud, juggling House Quidditch with your growing pile of books on ancient magic and magical creatures.
You shouldâve been in Ravenclaw, they always told you.
But it didnât feel like Ravenclaws would have gone along with James Potterâs mad idea to steal breakfast from the kitchens and sneak out to a hidden part of the Black Lake âfor peace and quiet.â
Peace and quiet had not happened. Sirius was shirtless within minutes, jumping from a tree branch into the water and dragging Cass in after him. James was poking at a picnic basket with his wand, while Lily told him, gently but firmly, to stop turning the sandwiches into birds. Marlene was sunbathing in her combat boots and a bra, sunglasses on, flipping through Witch Weekly and rolling her eyes at literally everything.
Mary would join later.
And Peter was watching you again. That soft, puppy-eyed look he always gave you when he thought no one would notice. You didnât mind Peter. He was sweet. Beautiful in a troubled way, his own way. But you wishedâselfishlyâthat Remus would look at you the way Peter did.
Remus, who never stared. Who was always kind, but reserved. Like he wanted to reach out and never quite did.
You moved closer to the blanket where he sat, a half-read book on magical theory close by, and dropped down beside him without warning.
âIs that Wyrdways of Magical Creation?â you asked, bumping your knee into his.
He blinked, startled, then smiled. âYeah. Bit dense for beach reading, I suppose.â
âYouâd be surprised what I call light reading,â you teased, brushing wet strands of hair from your face.
He looked at you thenâopened a door he usually locked. Your knees still touching. His eyes flicked to your legs, then back to your face. But his smile dimmed, just a little.
âYouâre always running,â he said suddenly.
You tilted your head. âItâs quiet when I run.â
He nodded. âGuess I wouldnât know.â
You hesitated. There it was again. That gap. That door closing. You could feel it, like a cold spot in the middle of the sun.
âDo you ever... sneak out with the others?â you asked, voice low. âAt night?â
His posture changed. Slight. But you noticed. âWhat makes you ask?â
You shrugged, as casually as you could. âYou four are up to something. I just know it.â
Remus gave you that tired smile again. âWould you believe me if I said itâs nothing bad?â
âI donât think itâs bad,â you didnât meant to pry, but curiosity had always gnawed at you. âI just think itâs secret.â
That made him pause. He reached for his water bottle instead of answering.
âI donât like secrets,â you added, softer this time.
His hand froze. Then slowly, he set the bottle down. âThen youâd hate mine.â
Something twisted in your chest.
But before you could ask more, Sirius let out a war whoop from the water. âOi, Moony! Get in here before Cass kills me for pushing her again!â
Remus rolled his eyes. âShe wonât kill you. Sheâll just destroy your self-esteem.â
Cass was already climbing back onto the rock, flipping her wet hair and giving Sirius a middle finger with a perfectly manicured hand.
You leaned in just a bit closer. âYou donât have to tell me, Remus. But I think Iâd like it if you stopped pretending like Iâm just another girl sitting next to you.â
He looked at you, caught off guard. His lips parted.
And then, like it hurt, he said, âYou donât know what youâre asking.â
âThen tell me.â
âI canât,â he whispered.
You didnât push.
You just nodded, stepped back, and let the space between you bloom wide again. Because some truths or bonds werenât meant to be forced, no matter how much they sat in your chest like unsaid prayers.
So you turned away, back toward the sun-dappled clearing, where the lake glistened like a secret and laughter rose in waves.
James and Lily were in their own worldâher head thrown back, laughing as James attempted to charm a rock into a reclining lounge chair. It half-worked, then exploded with a puff of green smoke, sending them both tumbling into the grass.
Peter hovered near the picnic, fretting over his already pinking skin. âBloody hell,â he muttered, squinting at the sun like it had personally offended him. âThis is how I die, isnât it? Slow-roasted.â
You chuckled and stood beside him, hand already reaching for the sunscreen bottle. âTurn around, Pettigrew.â
He blinked, startled. âWhat?â
âYouâll be a tomato by dinner,â you said, unscrewing the cap and squeezing a generous amount into your hand.
He hesitated, then slowly turned, cheeks blooming red from something other than the sun.
As your palms smoothed over his back, Peter fidgeted and rambled nervously about a girl in Hufflepuff he might write to over break. You nodded, encouraging him, Marlene snorting from where she was sprawled, but your eyes drifted elsewhere.
Across the rocky bank, Remus sat alone now, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of his shirt while everyone else basked bare-skinned in the sun. He looked out of place, too warm, too covered. His hair clung to the sides of his neck, and he kept scratching lightly at his elbow like his skin was crawling under the linen.
Eventually, he stood.
He wandered away from the group, toward the far side of the lake where a jagged rock jutted out into the water like a ledge. Sirius floated nearby, still swimming lazy laps, his silver rings glinting even in the water.
You saw Remus look backâonceâbefore pulling the shirt off with a kind of hesitant resignation.
It hit you, then.
He wasnât straying further to read. Or for the view. Or even for some quiet.
He was straying further so you wouldnât see.
The distance masked the truth. From where you all were, you could just make out the faint lines of his frame, the curve of his shoulders, the angles of his backâbut not the scars. Not the ones that lived where secrets liked to hide.
There were a few on his face, sure. A small one near his brow, a thin line along his cheekbone. Another crossing the bridge of his nose. Things boys collected in childhood. No one asked.
But youâd seen him fidget with his sleeves. Tense when people brushed against him. Stay clothed when others shed layers for the sun.
And suddenly, all of it made sense.
Still, you didnât mean to walk over.
You didnât plan to follow him.
But you found yourself walking toward the rock anyway, sunscreen in hand, the summer heat pressing soft and heavy across your shoulders. You told yourself it was to check in. To offer something helpful. But truthfully, you wanted to be near him. Even if he didnât let you all the way in.
He was sitting on the ledge, long legs dangling over the water, shoulders rolled forward. Sirius was nearby, floating lazily on his back, arms spread like a crucifix made of mischief and silver cuffs.
âMate,â Sirius was saying, âif Iâd known you were going for broody lake aesthetic, Iâd have brought a sketchbook. Or a cigarette. You look like a heartbroken poet.â
Remus laughedâreal, soft. You saw it in his profile. He was distracted, safe. He didnât hear you approach.
You took in his backâand the moment stilled.
Scars. Not deep. Not fresh. But many. Layered over each other like the rings of a tree. Like stories that couldnât be told out loud. And for a second, you just stood there, rooted to the spot, like seeing them had knocked the wind out of you.
Not in horror. Not in pity.
But in the knowledge that he had carried this alone.Â
Your steps were soft on the stone, but he still startled when you sat beside him.
He shifted quickly, muscles on his broad shoulders tensing, spine snapping straight. His hand twitched toward the shirt he'd dropped at his side. But you just held up the sunscreen, slow and easy.
âThought you might want help,â you offered. âI did Peterâs back. Seemed unfair to leave you out.â
He didnât answer.
His eyes flicked down, then toward Sirius direction, then up againâhovering somewhere between gratitude and discomfort.
Finally, he nodded. Just once.
Sirius, ever the opportunist, spotted you and grinned. âOh, finally! This was getting agonizing.â
Remus shot him a warning look.
Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender and turned, calling back to the others. âIf anyone needs me, Iâm retrieving my dignity!â
He dove underwater, laughing.
And you were alone.
You uncapped the bottle, warming the lotion between your hands first. Then you touched him.
He flinched.
Not like he was in painâlike he wasnât used to being touched without flinching.
Your hands moved slowly, deliberately. Over the shoulders first. Across the blade of his back. The lotion made his skin shine, made the pale scars glow like silver ink under the sun.
He didnât speak.
Neither did you.
Not until he exhaled, low and rough.
âI was attacked when I was five,â his jaw tensed, like the image was still vivid in his mind.
You stilled.
âWerewolf.â
There was no dramatic pause. No big reveal. Just the words, spoken like something he had rehearsed a thousand times in his head, and still hated saying out loud.
âI turn every full moon. I lose control. I... I hurt things. Myself. Sometimes... it used to be others.â
Your hand was on his shoulder, resting there now.
âI wanted to tell you sooner,â he added. âBut I didnât want you to look at me differently. I didnât want you to flinch.â
âI didnât,â you whispered.
He turned then, slowly, his gaze sweeping over your face like he was searching for disbelief. For fear.
He found neither.
Only you.
And for a momentâjust oneâhe leaned in.
Closer than before. So close your noses nearly brushed, the heat from his body pulling you in like a tide.
You felt his breath. You saw the way his eyelashes trembled. The way his fingers flexed at his sides like he didnât know what to do with them.
And then he stopped.
Pulled back, just slightly. Enough to undo the moment.
âPeter likes you,â he said, voice so quiet it mightâve been a thought. âAnd I canât... I wonât break his heart.â
You blinked.
Tried to swallow the ache that rose up so fast it made your head swim.
You couldâve told him that you didnât choose Peter. That youâd never given Peter a reason to hope. That what you feltâthisâwasnât a crush.
But the look in Remusâs eyes was so soft. So damn gentle. Like he was trying to hold the whole world together with a single breath.
So you just nodded.
You sat back beside him, shoulder brushing his, and stared out at the lake where Sirius was now trying to coax Lily into the water with ridiculous splashes.
And you thoughtâthis is what it means to almost have something.
And still want it.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#remus lupin x reader#marauders fanfiction#remus lupin#marauders era#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin imagine#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagines#marauders#marauders imagines#mauraders drabbles#marauders scenarios#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin scenario
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BCBTY 1 &2....impeccable. I'm not one who reads thriller-trope AUs *at all* but girl you had me sat the entire time. So, THANK YOU! Keep it up queen
-âáŻâś oh my word this is so sweet, thank you SO MUCH ! I'm so happy to read this đ§Ą you just made my day.
I'm writing for other characters right now, but as soon as I can, I promise to drop another BCBTY something something haha
much love,
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I'm obssessed with your Jk from bloody crawling back to you ! are you considering doing more parts to it ? I read on your notes that it was supposed to be one-shot but ... pretty please đĽş
-âáŻâś hi ! and AAAAA thank you so much ! I confess he was purely based and crafted to my personal tastes in men đ¤ I'm glad you liked him just as much as I do, though hehe
for now, two parts are out: the main one-shot and the two weeks after that encounter. but I plan to write about the first time they met also ( for work that is ). hopefully that gives more context on why she had this prejudice toward him, and of course, just to write a lil more of this universe đ§Ą ( I liked writing about it too much ).
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Omggggg bloody crawling back to you was INSANEEEEE. I had an emotional roller coaster reading it. Absolutely incredible. Will definitely be re-reading again and again !!!!
-âáŻâś this. just thisâwas the reason I wanted to write so bad. to make someone feel like I felt whenever I read a story I loved and couldn't stop thinking about.
thank you so freaking much ! for reading, for sending me this message, for liking what I wrote đ§Ą
I surprised myself incredibly with "bloody crawling back to you" haha, I never imagined it would receive this much love. I'm truly over the moon with your comments and feedback !
hopefully you like part two as well ( which is now out ) !
and again, THANK YOU.
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âś BLOODY CRAWLING BACK TO YOU, AGAIN


in which... you thought you absolutely hated your co-worker, the insufferable Jeon Jungkook. but then you slept together, you avoided himâand now he's at your door. -âáŻâś read part one ( here ) or not, this can also be a standalone !
pairing: jungkook x f!reader âś ( secret agents au ) word count: 9.5k content warning: smut ( mdni ) âś angst âś mentions of blood, cuts, bruises, fights, sex, and lots of cursing. a/n: if the first part was inspired by "do I wanna know", this one's all lana's version of "you can be the boss". I'd also like to sincerely thank everybody who read it, and especially the ones who took the time to leave such amazing feedbackâthis would still be a single oneshot if not for you. hope you like this one as much !
â đđđ đđđđđđ đđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđđđ đđđ đ
đđđđđđđđ. đ° đđđđ đđ đđđ đđđđđ, đ°âđ đđđđđđ
đđ, đ° đđđđđ
đđ đđ đđđđđđ đđđ đ° đđđđ đđ...
đđđâđ
đđđđđđ Jungkook to be pissed about it. And if he was, youâd have to admit he had a shred of right.
After all, youâd started it. Kissed him like you meant it, touched him like you owned him. Let him touch you like you were fragile and ruin you like youâd begged for it.
And then you left.
Crept out of his bed with first light spilling like confession over your bare skin. Not like a street cat, noâmore like a coward. A traitor to your own hunger.
Because the truth? You were scared.
That night, you thought you were scratching an itchâone born from years of tension, of mission-night adrenaline, of too-close brushes and unspoken dares. You told yourself it wasnât lust. That it wasnât him.
But the lie collapsed the moment he slid into you, and your world sharpened to the shape of him. This wasnât just hate, wasnât just needâit was a burn, a bind. A dangerous craving with teeth. A tether you didnât want, not with him.
Because if you stayed, if you let that moment become more than heat and fury, it might become something else entirely.
And that? That was terrifying.
Because how the hell could it work between you and Jungkook? You were field agents, ghosts in the night. Partners whose existence hinged on silence and steel. There was no room for thisânot when death stalked you like a shadow, not when one blink could mean gone.
Or worse, it had meant nothing to him. Just a night. Just a slip. A mistake he'd wipe clean without a second thought.
You knew his reputation. The smirks in the breakroom. The trail of wreckage with red-lipped grins.
Before you could spiral further into that hellscape of doubt, a knock shattered your thoughts.
You blinked. Shit. Yoongi.
Your neighbor-slash-informant. Supposed to stop by with intel. Beer and greasy wingsâyour agreed-upon cover for the handoff. One you were supposed to go through with Jungkook. Supposed being the operable word.
Youâd dodged every attempt he made to meet. Ghosted him. Not out of spite. Not out of professionalism.
But because being near him now? It felt like dancing barefoot on broken glassâbeautiful and brutal and destined to bleed.
No way in hell youâd sit beside him in some surveillance van with his knee brushing yours. Or worseâstraddle his bike again, chest to his back, arms tight around his waist like you had some right.
Besides, it had been reckless going to him that night. The remaining ghosts from the hard drive job were your cross to bear, not his. You couldnât risk dragging your partner into your unfinished business. So you used the time to hunt, to try and rewind your thoughts to a time when your hatred was clean and easy.
You werenât counting on Revenant assigning a new job three days laterâblowing your cover and your plans. Recon was easy to duck, but youâd eventually have to face him. You knew that. You just needed time. Time to build armor again.
You yanked the door open. âYoongi, Iââ
And stopped breathing.
Jungkook.
Leaning against the frame like the devil come to collect, his black hair a mess, frustration stitched into every strand, mouth carved into a blade.Â
A sleeveless black t-shirt clung to him, flashing the edge of ribs and the brutal lines of his ink-laced arm. Heat shimmered at his throat. Those baggy jeansâanchored by a punk belt, the kind that made you think of things you shouldnât.
His eyesâglazed and wild, sharp enough to slit open every lie youâd wrapped around your heart.
And youâidiot that you wereâstepped right into it.
âNot Yoongiâwhoever that is,â he rasped, voice rough and scorched, like heâd been yelling or drinking. Or both.
He shifted, revealing the beer pack in his hand. Bottles clinked like accusations. He didnât wait for permission. Just brushed past youâhis arm grazing yours like a dare. Like a scar reopening.
And gods, you hated the part of you that ached at the sight. That stupid, traitorous ache that whispered he fit here.
You shut the door slowly, as if trying to cage a hurricane. âAre you⌠are you okay?â
There were a dozen better things to say. Like How the hell do you know where I live?
But of course Jungkook knew. You were Revenantâs best trackerâbut he came close second. Only best when it came to haunting you.
âWhy wouldnât I be?â he shot back, eyes glinting like broken mirrors.
You gestured at the bottles, pathetic.
He scoffed. âI can hold my liquor just fine, thanks.â But his gaze didnât linger on youâit prowled your space like he was hunting ghosts. Like he was searching for signs you'd moved on.
You were suddenly, viciously aware of the worn band t-shirt clinging to your frame and the male boxer shorts riding up your thighs, rolled at your hips. No makeup. You looked like you would if he was coming back home to you. Which he wasnât.
And heâhe was a wrecking ball made of ink and silence.
âWhy are you here, Jungkook?â Your voice was a whisper already bracing for pain.
This had to be it. His confrontation. His judgement. You running. You fucking him and leaving. Cowardice with a kiss. Like the stitches down your side, a reminder carved into you like art. Like consequence.
Orâworse and somehow betterâhe was here on Revenantâs orders. Youâd been dancing on the edge these past two weeks, and you doubted heâd covered for you on callback day.
You were becoming a stray. And strays didnât get mercy. They got leashesâor bullets.
But instead of a knife, he dropped the beers on your coffee table with a thud and turned.
âTo work,â he said. âThought Iâd show up instead of waiting for you to.â
The guilt slithered up your throat like smoke. You took the hit without flinching.
Maybe you were being paranoid. A cocktail of no sleep and the weight of those men still hunting you. Of too many hours spent remembering the shape of Jungkook in your hands.
You werenât being unprofessional, you inhaled as you reminded yourself.
You were still doing your jobâtracking, reporting, filing notes. You just⌠needed space, while the field work wasnât necessary. Distance. Needed to breathe. To exist in a room without drowning in him.
Without unraveling.
Jungkook reached into the six-pack and popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb, muscle memory smooth as murder. âMight as well drink while we sort this crap out,â he said, nodding to the files sprawled like landmines across your coffee table.
He called it crap. You couldâve laughed.
Revenant missions were never casual. They were shadows with knives, cover stories written in ash, warfare so deniable even your heartbeat lied. Blood-on-your-hands kind of work, buried intel with bodies. And the files between you now? They were preludes. Invitations to the next disaster.Â
You eyed the bottle like it was a loaded gun.
One rule left unbroken.
Donât drink with him.
Because when walls thinned, and eventually came downâyou knew what followed. Chaos. Heat. Want that left bruises.
And you were barely holding.
âFine,â you muttered, grabbing one like it didnât spell your undoing.
Another line blurred. The last one.
You ended up on the floor beside him, backs against the couch, knees brushing in the kind of proximity that shouldn't feel like drowning. Between youâsnapshots of death, scribbled intel, faces frozen mid-breath. Your handwriting scratched across the margins like shrapnel.
War lived in your pen. Jungkook had always said that. Like he knew you wrote in rage.
The beer dulled the razor-edge of your posture, but not your perception. Not around him.
Jungkook wore calm like a disguiseâlike a bomb under a silk napkin. He exhaled cool detachment, but you could smell the lie on him along with the bourbon lurking on his breath. He was trying to be casual, but the effort showed in the curve of his jaw, in every brush of his leg against yours that never pulled back.
Every move was a push.
And you were breaking.
The tension between you snapped tighter, breath by breath. The air was too thick. Too still. One glance too long and you'd combust.
You reached for a grainy photoâlight blown out, figure indistinctâand his fingers brushed yours. Featherlight. Incidental.
But it detonated something in your chest.
He didnât look at you. Just took a swig like he hadnât set you ablaze.
And you hated him for that. Hated the flex of his throat, the stark line of his jaw, the way his veins caught the light. That fucking light scar on his cheekbone. Hated the heat pooling in your palms, the part of you that screamed to crawl into his lap and burn all over again.
He was still Jungkook.
And you were still hopelessly tangled in the memory of that night.
His mouth on your throat, hands in your hair, breath whispering your name like a curseâthose were not ghosts you could outrun.
Silence wrapped around you like a noose. He didnât speak. Didnât touch.
But he was there.
A shadow that never left.
Focus, goddammit.Â
You forced your eyes to the files, to the pattern you could solve with one hand tied behind your back. Easier than untangling the way his fingers tapped that bottle, like they ached for something else to press into.
He leaned forward, pulled a folder closer. Bit at the metal glint of his lip ring.
You seized the moment to snap yourself out of it. Your voiceâmeasured, steady. Barely.
âThat shot was taken two days before the drop. The guy in the backgroundâyou recognize him?â
âMhm,â he said. âOne of Choiâs henchmen. Shows up like mold. Slimier, too.â
You huffed, dry. âPerfect. Another one to track.â
He slid a page your way, fingers grazing your wrist longer than necessary. âThis spotâsee it?â
You did. The pattern was clear. The message clearer. âTheyâre circling back.â
âExactly.â He leaned in, voice lower. âYouâd think theyâd learn. But rats donât stop running into traps, do they?â
Your spine stiffened. You werenât sure if he meant the target.
You werenât sure he didnât.
The space between you quivered. A standoff without a gun. It was a fragile balanceâthis cold war between you. The space where hate blurred into want. Where loyalty slipped its collar and curled up next to need.
You were staring at his eyes, trying hard not to dip them to his lips like he was watching yours.Â
But you cracked firstâanything to break this spell he had you under. âThought the superiors sent you to keep me in line, not drink and share a slumber party.â
His mouth twitched, slow and wicked. But there was heat behind itâundeniable.
He didnât even look up. Just murmured, âPretty sure you were supposed to leash me. But hey, whoâs counting casualties?â
The words hit like a bulletâsubtext woven through every syllable.
You didnât answer.
Because you didnât trust what would come out of your mouth.
Thenâding.
The doorbell split the air like a blade.
You stiffened. Instantaneous. A tripwire pulled in your spine.
Jungkookâs head snapped up at the same moment. His gaze cut from the door to youâcatching everything. The flicker. The twitch you hadnât meant to let show.
He didnât ask. Didnât need to.
He was already rising, fluid and dangerous, moving like the door was his to shield. Like you were.
And thatâ
That was what you couldnât fucking stand.
You werenât a damsel. Not a kept thing.
You didnât need saving. You were his partner for fucks sake!
You moved fast. Intercepted him. Your palm met his chestânot harsh, but hard enough to stop.
Hard enough to remind him.
His body didnât yield, but something behind his eyes shifted. That burnâlow and darkâignited again. The kind you didnât dare name.
âYouâre not my bodyguard,â you snapped, blade-edged, jaw locked.
His jaw clenched. The muscle under your hand tensed like it wanted to defy you. âNo⌠Iâm not.â
And there it was. That weightless second where neither of you moved, both too proud, too furious, too wired.
You knew his tells. He knew yours.
You pushed him just enough to block the door from his view, then yanked it open.
And there was Yoongi.
Leaning against the frame like the world owed him something and he planned to collect in charm. Hoodie half-zipped, eyes glittering with unbothered precision. A smirk pulled at his mouth like he knew he could get away with anything.
âDamn,â he said, low and deliberate, amusement bleeding into every syllable. âIf I knew you were answering doors looking like that, Iâd have brought dessert.â
His gaze trailed over youâlazy, unapologetic. From the defiance in your stare to the shirt clinging too well and the heat blooming in your throat. He drank it all in.
And for once, you didnât bite back. Didnât spit your usual venom. Because you felt Jungkook before you saw him.
His presence unfurled behind you like a stormcloud. Heavy. Electric. Half of his chest brushed your spine, his breath grazing your neckâhot and possessive. Not touching, but near enough to feel the warning in it.
Mine, it seemed to say.
Yoongiâs smirk faltered. Just a little. Just enough.
âAnd whoâs this?â he asked, head tilting like it mattered.
You answered too fast, too sharp. âMy partner. And youâre late.â
Yoongiâs brows ticked up, but he didnât push. He just held out the chicken wings delivery bag, fingers loose, like he wasnât dropping dynamite between two unstable elements. âGot the intel. Movement patterns. Youâll want to check the second location listed. Itâs all inside, like always.â he pointed the packaging with his chin.Â
You reached for it, but Jungkook was faster.
He moved around you, body encaging yours like a wall of heat and intent, hand closing over the bag strapâover Yoongiâs fingers. Not hard. But pointed. Held it a beat too long.
A message without words: Back off.
Yoongi didnât blink. Just arched a brow, amused. âDidnât know youâd been having company.â
âDidnât know I needed to check in with you about that,â you said, slicing your voice thin and cold. Ice over a fire.
Behind you, Jungkook went still.
Like youâd just lit a match and dropped it in gasoline.
Yoongi chuckled, stepping back, unbothered. But his gaze lingeredâbouncing between you like he could read the unsaid. And maybe he could.
âGuess Iâll let you get back to⌠whatever this is,â he said, voice wry.
He lingered just long enough to grind his heel in it.
âIâll be up in my apartment if you need me.â
The weight in his stare as he said it was intentional. You gave a small, polite smileâsharp-edged. Dismissive.
But Jungkookâthrough your periphery you saw the way his tongue pressed into his cheek like it was trying not to bite through.
Yoongi vanished into the hall.
The door shut behind him with a snap.
And then you turned.
You were on him before he could breathe.
A weapon unsheathed.
Your movement cut through the silence, quick and decisive, and just like that your chest was brushing his. Standing on the tip of your toes so your faces were just inches apart, eyes locked on the black pools in front of you. You could see everythingâevery flicker, every fracture.
âDo not make me check you.â
Jungkookâs eyes flared wide. But it wasnât fear. Noâwhat lived there was something hungrier. Darker. His breath shivered. His fists clenched.
He wanted to break something.
Or take you apart.
He was vibrating with restraint. With that desperate, wild thing that had clawed its way loose the moment you slipped out of his bed like a thief. He hadnât gotten to chase you. To claim what you took with you.
Now? He was seconds from snapping.
âYou had me once,â you whispered, venom-laced velvet. âOnce. Not even long enough to piss and mark territory. Donât forget that.â
Then you turned.
Cold. Precise. Beautifully cruel.
Like you hadnât just sliced him open with your teeth.
You walked away with purpose, spine straight, blood roaring beneath still skin. Left him there in the ruins.
He didnât follow.
Didnât speak.
But you could feel himârage coiled tight in his gut, heat rising like a fever. When you sank into the couch, you didnât have to look to know he was gripping the air like it betrayed him.
âI shouldn't have come,â he muttered finally. âIt was a mistake.â
His voiceâlow, scraped rawâcrackled through the room like static. He stalked toward the table, dropped the delivery bag and snatched up his keys. His stride was all anger and ache.
But before he reached the door, your body moved without thought catching up.
âWaitâJust wait.â
Your hands lifted to your hair, dragging through with frustration. âWe should talk about this. Weâre partners, Jungkook. We canât let one night get in the way of our work.â
He stopped like youâd shot him.
Tension rippled through his frame. When he turned to face you, it was slow. Dangerous.
âOne nightâŚâ he repeated.
Voice like gravel. Like regret. As if it tasted like blood in his mouth.
âGod, you must really hate meâŚâ he huffed, the dimples appearing as he gnawed at his bottom lip. âIs that what it was for you? Just one night?â
And there it was.
The air between you thickened. Dense. Combustible.
Every breath you shared was a threat.
A challenge.
A lie neither of you could keep telling much longer.
Thenâ
Clang.
A metallic thud slammed through the stillness.
The fire stairwell.
Adrenaline sliced through the haze like a blade to the jugular.
The heat between you evaporatedâconsumed by instinct. No words, no delay. Just the clean, brutal snap of motion as both of you shifted gears like twin chambers firing. He pivoted. You dropped to the shoe bench near the front door, lifted it with practiced efficiency. Underneathâyour weapon. And the spare you always kept, just in case. Just for him.Â
You tossed the Glock in his direction.
He caught it without lookingâlike your hand and his were parts of the same weapon, forged to work in tandem. His keys hit the ground, but neither of you so much as flinched.
This wasnât chaos. This was code.
You and Jungkook moved like a language only your bodies remembered. Poetry written in violence. He stepped left as you went right. Breaths synced. Limbs mirrored.
Partners indeed. But not just that.
The stairwell door creaked again.
You moved into the hallway, silent as ghosts.
âOne. Downstairs,â you murmured, voice razor-thin.
Jungkook nodded, just once. âTheyâre running scared.â
Then the chase detonated.
You sprinted down the concrete steps, the cold biting into your bare feet like punishment. Jungkookâs boots struck beside you, each step deliberate, brutal. Every movement between you practiced, precise, deadly.
You hit the garageâs lower level. Shadows clung to the corners like predators watching from the dark.
Jungkookâs hand snapped to your lower belly, half his fingers grazing bare skin beneath your t-shirt as he halted you. The touch seared, more dangerous than anything else in the room. Your breath hitched, traitorous.
Focus.
Aheadâa figure, caught mid-motion. The guy turnedâsaw you.
Recognition flared in Jungkookâs voice. âGuy from the photo. Snake tattoo.â
The man bolted.
Jungkook fired. The shot rang clean, ruthless. The SUVâs tire exploded before the targetâs foot even left the ground. Rubber shrieked against pavement.
But it wasnât over.
Twoâno, threeâmore.
Armed. Unafraid.
Professionals.
âSplit,â Jungkook muttered, low and lethal.
You peeled right, vanishing behind a beam. Gun raised. Heart hammering. Jungkook ghosted leftâfaster than light, heavier than wrath.
First one came at you with a crowbar, the arc whistling death.
You ducked the blow and firedâright into his thigh. His scream echoed off concrete. Another came behind him, bulletproof vest thick on his chest. Your second shot knocked him back but didnât drop him.
You barely adjusted before Jungkook slammed into the guy, body to body, sheer force. The man hit a car hood with a sickening crunch.
You turnedâ
Too slow.
Another came in low, fast. Trained.Â
Fuck.
Your arm lifted, but his hand was already there, wrenching your wrist wide. Pain sparked. You fought backâknee snapping up, breath a growlâbut his grip held.
And then you felt him.
Sudden, fierce. Jungkookâs hands on your waist, lifting, flipping you back over his hip. Your body hit the groundâhard.
But his body cushioned it.
Your breath stuttered.Â
He was under you. Hot and solid. Every muscle taut, every breath ragged. His fingers lingered too long just below your ribs, brushing over skin no one should be touching. Heat bloomed.
Time stopped.
âShow off,â you muttered, lifting your arm. You fired. The man dropped, clean.
âI like dramatic entrances,â he replied, his voice low and a promise, his eyes all flame.
Another guy emerged from the shadows, slipping behind a van with his gun already raised.
Jungkook moved instantly.
No hesitation, no questionâjust his body between yours and the threat, shielding you like instinct. The shot rang out, ricocheting off metal, too close. Jungkook didnât flinch. He grabbed you and rolled you both behind the SUVâs bumper, one fluid movement, his arms tight around you.
Your hand clutched his bicep. His thigh wedged between your legs. His arm beneath your head. The concrete should have been cold, but all you felt was himâhot, tense, grounding.
Your heart thundered. His echoed it.
âClose one,â you breathed, shaken, eyes locking with his.
His breath washed over your lips. âYou okay?â
âYouâre on top of me.â
A slow grin tugged at his mouth. Dangerous. âYeah. Not complaining.â
You shoved at himâbut it lacked force. Like you needed to push him away before you did something worse.
Jesus. You were still on the clock.
You rolled to a crouch, nodded toward the final attacker. The heat in his gaze vanished. The smirk? Gone. He snapped back into mission mode like it was a second skin.
The last man bolted.
Jungkook pursued.
You followed.
Your heels slammed the concrete. Pain screamed up your legs, but you didnât stop. You couldnât. Your blood roared in your ears. Jungkook closed in first, tackled the guy without mercy, slamming him into a pillar so hard the echo cracked down the garage like thunder.
The man fought hardârage in every limb, desperation in every move. Jungkook was still buzzed from the alcohol, still bleedingâbut still stronger. You reached them in a blur. Drove your elbow into the guyâs spine. He dropped like a felled beast. Motionless.
You stood over the body, breath jagged. Heart roaring. Body trembling with more than just adrenaline.
Jungkook leaned against the pillar, bruised and split-lipped. Blood painted a line down the side of his faceâsharp, bright, and brutal. It caught the light like a vow. He looked like a tornado just barely held in place.
âYouâre bleeding,â you said, voice tighter than you meant.
âIâm fine.â
âYou always say that.â
He looked at you. And for a beatâunder the flickering garage lightsâhe wasnât your enemy. Or a mistake made in a night, the one youâd run from. Or even just your partner.
He was everything you feared you wanted.
His chest heaved. Yours mirrored it.
And then he stepped closer.
You didnât move.
âYou hesitated,â he said quietly.
You blinked, thrown by the shift. âWhen?â
âWhen that cameo scumbag came at you. You looked at me first.â
Your jaw locked. âSo?â
His gaze didnât waver. He stepped closer until you could taste the bourbon on his breath. Blood and sweat clung to the air between you like incense in a burning church.
âSo donât,â he murmured. âNext time, just take the damn shot.â
Your spine stiffened. âYou saying I canât handle myself?â
That dangerous smirk flickered again. But this time, softer. Less weapon, more wound. He reached outâand his fingers brushed your jawline. Just barely. Just the edge of itâslow. Intentional. Reverent. As if memorizing the shape of your defiance.
âIâm saying I notice everything you do,â he rasped. âEspecially when itâs for me.â
Your breath caught mid-throat. The confession gutted you more than his touch.
But before you could speakâ
A grunt. Wet and gurgled.
One of the bodies on the ground wasnât quite done dying. He writhed, breath rattling like a broken instrument.
You both turned.
Jungkook stepped back.
Not far. Not enough for the space to cool. Just enough to draw his pistol. Calm and quiet, his fingers wrapping around the grip like it belonged to him, like it knew the shape of him.
And he fired.
One shot. Final.
The silence that followed wasnât emptyâIt throbbed.
It hit harder than the bullet. Not because of what he did. Youâd both done worse. God knows you were past redemption.
But you stared. Not at the body. At him.
Because this?
This was different.
This was standing in the middle of the fire. Not running. Not denying. Just⌠burning.
âWeâwe need to deal with the bodies,â you said, but your voice sounded mechanical, hollow. You could feel the revelation of your feelings sending your body into shock. âIf they trace this back here... I can'tâThe ones from the hard drive job, theyâre still out there. I canât riskââ
âShut up.â
The words hit like a whip and you froze.Â
The bastard knew it. Knew your body, your mind like it was his.Â
âI got this,â Jungkook said, eyes gentle, steady, locking onto yours. âTake the guns. Check on your informant. Iâll be up in a few.â
Your mouth was dry. You couldnât leave him, you neededâ
âYouâre hurt. Not to say drunk,â you bit out, more afraid than angry.
He gave a short laughâlacking energy, his body was betraying him too. âIâve had worse.â
You narrowed your eyes. âAnd yet.â
âI have contacts too, you know. Iâll burn the mess before anyone smells it. Go upstairs.â Then he looked at you againâreally looked. And everything in you fractured.
âTrust me.â
And you did. You fucking did.
That was the real problem.
It wasnât the blood or the mess or the ghosts that haunted you.
It was that.
You trusted him more than you feared what your feelings for him could do.
Youâd checked on Yoongi.
Safe. No tail. Still smirking like the devil had given him his lines personally.
By the time you returned to the apartment, the sky had bled into inkâthick, suffocating. One of those nights that clings to your skin, whispers against your pulse. The kind that knows your secrets. The kind that feels sentient.
Youâd been pacing ever since. Barefoot. Restless. Your heartbeat ticking like a landmine.
You kept glancing at the window without realizing. At the door. At your phone. Not checking it. Just⌠listening. As if some part of you knew the kind of mess Jungkook possibly walked into and hadnât come back from. As if your body was betraying the fear your mouth refused to voice.
Thenâ
Three knocks.
Soft. Deliberate. One pause. Then two more.
His rhythm.
Always his.
You opened the door before your mind caught up. Like instinct had already laid out the red carpet for your ruin.
And there he was.
Relief hit you like a sharp exhale. Not loud. Not visible. But it bloomed in your chest like pain. You didnât let it reach your faceâdidnât dare. You still hadnât decided what scared you more: the idea that something had happened to him⌠or the fact that you cared that deeply if it had.
Bruised. Bloodstained. Sweaty strands of dark hair plastered to his temple like shadows, eyes heavy-lidded and shining too dark in the hallway light. He looked like the aftermath of a warâand yet, you couldnât look away.
âItâs sorted,â he said. âI identified two of them as Choiâs underdogs, but itâll take a while toââ
You didnât let him finish.
âLet me check that cut on your brow,â you said, already grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. The door shut behind him with a quiet finality.
If something serious had happened, he wouldâve led with it. Jungkook was nothing if not brutally efficientâhe didnât bury the lede. Which is exactly why, despite the wreckage on his skin, your focus stayed on him. Not the mission. Not yet.
He followed wordlessly. Heavy-footed. Letting you lead him toward the bathroom like he was tied to you by something ancient and binding.
You rummaged through the cabinet, refusing to look at his face too long, refusing to feel that heat that still hadnât left your skin from earlier.
Behind you, he laughedâa lazy, low, lopsided sound. The kind that always came with trouble. The kind that curled into your belly and settled there, warm and invasive.
âBaby, itâs a tiny cut,â he drawled, voice syrupy and wrapped in alcohol. His eyes edged something like endearment through the mirror. âI just need a shower. Donât worry about it.â
Baby.
That nickname again, cutting like a silk against bare skin. A reminder from that night together. A trigger. A temptation.
You turned.
Just in time to catch the sway in his stance. One shoulder slumped against the doorframe. His pupils were dilated. Lips slightly parted. And God, he looked feralâlike want was eating him alive from the inside out.
âYouâre too drunk,â you said, your voice low and clipped. âHow much did you drink before coming here on your fucking bike like a lunaticâbefore continuing to drink?â
You glared at him, jaw tight. âAnd donât even deny it. I saw the damn thing parked out there.â
He grinned, all teeth and dangerâboyish and wicked. âJust a bit.â
You let out a short, bitter laugh. âYou fuckingââ
You moved before the thought even formed, your hand going straight to the exposed skin above his beltâwhere his shirt had ridden up. Palm flat. Skin too warm. Muscles tight beneath.
You shoved him back. A push that lingered too low. Too intimate.
He stiffened. But didnât stop you, kept walking back.
His breath grew shallow. His eyes droppedâto your mouth. The air around you turned charged, electric.
âI told you I can hold my liquor,â he murmured, voice fraying at the edges. âI am holding it. Barely. Iâll admit that. But God, youââ
His hand hovered near your throat, clawed fingers curling just short of contact. Not grabbing. Just wanting.
But didnât.
âYouâreâ Fuck.â he struggled.
Your knees nearly buckled. That memoryâhis hands on your throat, mouth on your skinâflared so bright you could taste it.
âYou look at me like you want to kill me,â he said. Voice cracking on something too real. His hand dropped. A surrender. But not defeat.
âAnd maybe I do,â you snapped, though your hand stayed where it wasâgripping his side like you needed the anchor. Like you didnât want to let go. Your nails curled slightly between his belt and his V line. He shivered beneath the pressure.
His pupils dilated further, eyes locking on yours as if remembering everything you too were failing miserably to forget.
And thenâhe reached.
His hand slid behind your neck, fingers threading into your hair. Not yanking. Not dragging.
Just there. Claiming without question.
Breath warm against your lips.
Your heart stuttered.
Then you reached behind himâfound the faucetâand yanked.
Water exploded over both of you, steam rising instantly, curling around your limbs like smoke from a fire you couldnât put out.
He gasped, startled. His shirt clung to him instantly, outlining every line, every inch, water running in rivulets down the slopes of his body.
âWhat theâ?â he started.
âYou said you needed a shower. I agree,â you cut him off, hissing. Stepping into the spray with him, heat crawling down your spine. âYou need to sober the hell up.â
He stared at you for a breath, stunned.
Then that look flickered into place.
Dark. Amused. Dangerous.
Water traced a slow path down his jaw, dripping from the cut above his brow. Down his throat. His chest. His voice came low and rough, barely more than a growl.
âCareful,â he murmured. âOr Iâll begin thinking the secret to have you under me is getting you wet.â
You pressed your finger to his cut meaning to hurtâto shut his mouthâ, hovering close enough to feel his pulse beneath the skin. Your own shirt was soaked through, clinging to your curves like a dare, and you were suddenly too aware.
He grunted but didnât pull away. Instead, he smiled. That insufferable, knowing smirk that said he could read every inch of your skin. Worse, that he could get under it.
âYou wish,â you snapped, pulling your hand away.
His laugh was low and rough, soaked in sin. âI did,â he said, leaning in until the mist between you was all but gone. âAnd look at you now. Drenched. Again.â
Silence collapsed over the bathroom like a loaded gun.
You stared at each other like it was war. Like one word, one twitch of muscle, would set the whole damn room on fire.
His gaze locked with yours, dark and searing. Possessive. Like heâd never stopped seeing you as his. Like he knew every thought crashing through your mind in that moment.
And you wanted him.
God, you wanted him.
But the wanting didnât make it less dangerous.
It made it worse.
You wanted his hands on you. His mouth. His body pinning you to the wall so hard you forgot your name. You wanted him to ruin youâdevour every inch, mark every part, leave nothing untouched, nothing sacred. Just like he did that night.
You wanted him because you werenât supposed to.
Because it would burn everything youâd builtâevery wall, every rule, every lie. And still, youâd do it again.
His voice broke the silence, rough and low, like a sandpiper doing his best to lure you in.
âI killed them.â
The words crashed into you like thunder.Â
He didnât blink, didnât flinch. Just stared, soaked and still, letting the truth settle slowly in your lungs like you were taking a drag from one of his cigarettes.
âThe rest of the guys from when IâŚstitched you,â he said, voice hoarse, eyes hollow and burning. âEvery last one of them. You donât have to worry about that anymore.â
Your breath caughtâsnagged hard in your throat.
âWhat? When?â The whisper barely passed your lips.
His jaw flexed, twitching like he was chewing on the weight of it. âI had a lot of time on my hands the past two weeks,â his chest kept rising and falling, eyes unrelenting. âA lot of anger to burn.â
You lost yourself in the black pool of them, able to catch your reflection, thinking that the better question would be why, but you knew the answer. And it wasnât because Jungkook would always have your back, because you were partners. It was the something more.
Whatever thin, frayed thread had been holding you backâsnapped.
For a second you had to remind yourselfâitâs okay to want something that might ruin you. To crave what cuts. And maybe you were already bleeding.
Your hand reached his collar, tugging. He let himself be pulled, leaning down like a storm bending toward you, moving slow, steady, devastatingâgiving you time to run. But you didnât.
Because you wanted him to kiss you.
The moment his lips caught yours, everything burned off like fog meeting sun. The ache. The exhaustion. The war.
The kiss was slow at firstâsinful, soaked in longing. The kind that studied every edge of you. Then your teeth caught his bottom lip, dragged with just the right pressure. He moanedâa dark, low sound that made your insides twist.
Jungkook leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavy through the water falling over your heads.
âThis is a bad idea,â you whispered, eyes closed as he teased your lips.Â
He trailed a hot path toward your ear, fingers curling around your hips. âSince when do we follow good ones?âÂ
A bite on your lobe, soft. You lost control.
You pressed into him harder, hand locked in his jaw, seizing his lips completely. He shuddered, fingers coming to slide from your temples through your damp hair. Clutching, desperate. Your bodies taut with desire, tension razor-thin.Â
You moved, hands falling on his shoulders, then a pushâyou climbed him without mercy. His hands immediately under your thighs, squeezing. You were dizzyâdrenched in himâjust like that night, feeling feverish. Each kiss made your thoughts blurrier, your skin tighter, your breath more ragged.
Jungkook slammed you against the tile wall like he could read your mind, his hips grinding against yours. God, he was so fucking hard. You moaned, he grunted. Water rained down, steaming over your flushed skin, making every nerve feel electric.
You gasped with another roll of his hips, body trembling with every throb of want.
Fuck, you needed out of your clothes.Â
Needed them goneâ
One leg came down, then the other. You shoved him back, his raven eyes searched for yours, dizzy. Almost supplicant.Â
Your lips parted, clit throbbing as you stripped the soaked t-shirt clinging to you. It peeled away slow, like silk over embers, baring you to the heat of his stare.
Jungkook froze.
Breathing heavy. Watching.
His gaze licked your chest, then fell to the stitches still holding on your side, right underneath your ribs.Â
âYou shouldâve taken those out,â his was voice low, raspy, âNow itâll leave a scar,â and you caught the way his teeth found his lip, that damned dimple deepeningâlike he was already claiming it. His name etched in flesh.
Good, that had been your intention.Â
âNo shitâŚSherlock,â your lips curled into a knowing smirk. A laughter almost fell from your lips when you saw the realization befalling his eyes. His knuckles whitnening, balled in fists.Â
That fuelled you.Â
Your fingers fell to strip the boxer shorts next, leaving you only in your black lace panties. You stood bare before him, water sliding down your curves like an offering.
He stared in a daze, gulped.
Like you were a sin too beautiful to resist.
And he was ready to confess the only way he knew howâwith worship and destruction.
Jungkookâs inked fingers found the back collar of his shirt, pulling it off in one fluid motionâwater trailed down his chest like a whisper. Boots thudded to the tile, cast aside like fallen armor. Still, his gaze never left yours.
Your thighs pressed together as you took him in.Â
He was bare but for drenched jeans, dangerous and unguarded. The belt fell next, with a splash, and then his fingers found the buttonâuntil you closed the distance, taking over. You dragged his zipper down, slow, eyes piercing his.
His breath hitched.
Not even blood had undone Jeon Jungkook like this. This wasnât vulnerability. It was exposure. Raw. His chest rose hard; pierced lips parted, begging for that final pushâlike if you did so, heâd come undone right there.
And you liked the feeling.
You liked the power humming beneath your fingers. The way he vibrated with the effort of not losing it.
Just to test him, to twist the wire tighter, you dropped your hand after unzipping him, let the distance stretchâmocking a retreat. Your steps pulled back, every line of your body begging to be chased.
âDonâtâCome here. Now,â Jungkook snarled, one step faltering.
You chuckled, slow and dangerous, stopping. Your eyes stayed on his, playful and defiant.
Jungkook could twist your mind into knots. Wreck your logic with a look.
But two could play.
And you had fire in your lungs now.
You stalked back toward him, eyes never dropping, and slid to your knees with the kind of poise that could unravel a man.
Tilting your head, biting your lip, you murmured, âIs this what you wished for? When you kept thinking to yourself Iâd crawl back to you? That I was yours to keep?â
His breath was wrecked. His jaw flexed.
âYes,â he said, the word broken with need. âThatâand so much more.â
The confession hit the air like a lit fuse on dry kindling.
You smiledâslow and knowing, like a promise draped in danger. âReally?â you whispered. âAnd what else did you wish Iâd do?â
Your hand slid up his thighâslow, commandingâknuckles brushing soaked denim, the heat of his skin bleeding through. You felt the muscle tense beneath your palm, a quiet shudder betraying his restraint.
Jungkookâs eyes flaredâblack, volatile, molten. Then he moved. Fast.
He surged forward, seized your waist with fingers that dug into flesh like he was claiming a victory he hadnât yet earned. He yanked you upright, effortless, like your body weighed nothing to himâlike control was already his.
You barely had time to blink.
With a grunt, he flipped you over his shoulder, and the air rushed from your lungs. Your wet hair clung to your back, your cheek pressed to the plane of his spine. A yelp caught behind your teeth.
Thenâsmack.His palm fell to your ass like a whip, loud and ruthless.
You gasped, startled and electric, the sound swallowed by the hiss of steam and the wet splash of water against tile. The sting bloomed through your skin and burrowed down into heat.
"You're a fucking menace," he muttered, voice rough and thick with something darker than amusementâlike each word had been dragged over gravel, heavy with the battle he was losing against himself.
Your laugh came out breathless. Aroused. Dangerous. "Funny, you seem to like it."
He growledâactually growledâand the sound lit up your nerves like dynamite. With one hand steady at your thigh, he reached out and turned off the shower, then walked you out like a man done pretending.
He carried you down the hall like a stolen prize, like something sacred and savage heâd fought to win. No hesitation. No falter. His gait was confident, practicedâand yet youâd never walked this route together before. He still knew exactly where your bedroom was.
The door creaked open and shadows welcomed you. Moonlight spilled across the sheets like it, too, had been waiting.
The room pulsed.
He didnât lower you gently. He tossed you down like a challenge, like he was daring you to run again so he could catch you all over.
You landed with a bounce, limbs splaying, hair a halo across the bedding, lips parted. The moment held, thick with the throb of everything unsaid.
Then he was over you.
Jungkookâs body came down like a waterfallâdamp denim scraping over lace, his weight pressing you into the mattress, heat bleeding through every inch. His arms caged your head. His breath ghosted over your cheek.
He was everywhere.
You arched into him, chasing friction like it might answer the ache inside you. His skin was slick with water, warm and wild. His jeans rubbed with exquisite cruelty between your thighs.
And his eyesâGod, his eyes were flame.
He dipped his head, brushing lips to your throatâonce, soft enough to almost hurt. Then he bit. A sharp press of teeth that said mine, that said run again and Iâll follow.
âYou left, you ghosted me,â he pulled the soft skin beneath your ear between his teeth, like it was penance.
âAh,â you moaned, your head tipping back, hair plastered to your face, his heat bleeding into you as steam still clung to your skin. One of his hands slid to your breast, bold, hungry, and you could barely think around it.
âIâIâmâŚâ
But the words died in your throat. Thought scattered.
Jungkookâs breath stuttered against your mouth. Hot. Shaking. And thenâ
He moved.
Devastating.
One hand wrapped around his cock, dragging it out of his jeans with a groan that sounded broken. The kind of sound that could tear open ribcages. The kind that made your breath catch, knees press inward, thighs shake.
The otherâ
He hooked rough fingers into the lace clinging to your soaked skin, yanking your panties aside like theyâd offended him by existing. No finesse. No delay.
You spread your legs before you realized you had. The want in your chest curled like clawsâsharp, urgent, feral.
Then he thrust.
Hard. Deep.
You cried out. His name caught on your tongue like a spell gone wrong. He filled youâinch by inchâwith a slowness that wasnât mercy, but control. You arched. He didnât stop. Buried to the hilt, the stretch a brand, a claim.
He felt perfect. Like heâd been made to wreck you.
You rememberedâfuck.
The condom. It hit you mid-moan, a flash of ice through the heat. You werenât on the shotâyou never were. Not with how it messed with your body, your reflexes. Not in your line of work.
Your hands flew to his hips, trembling as you tried to stall his rhythm, tried to choke out words through the haze.
âJKâah, fuckâStop. Waitââ
He started to pull back, the motion sudden, his breath sharp, panicked. His eyes found yours and they pleaded.
âNo. No, please. Baby, pleaseââ
A breathless laugh fell from your lips. You couldnât help it. His desperationâit was fucking adorable. You dragged your nails down his back, slow, soothing. âWe forgot the condom.â
Relief transformed him, but he didnât waste a second. He slipped out cursing under his breath, and was on his feet in an instant, already moving.
âBathroom,â you said, still catching your breath. âSecond drawer.â
He came back fast, foil in hand, eyes locked on you like a man starved.
You were already on your knees, waiting for him at the edge of the bed, panties gone. One hand curled around the back of his neck, pulling him in. The kiss was slow, deep. Sin-drenched. You toyed with the damp strands at his nape, shivering at how they curled against your fingers.
Jungkook pushed his soaked jeans off. Finally. Your mouth watered. The white boxers clung, transparent, and left nothing to the imagination. You licked your lips.
You helped take them off too. Then his inked hand found your chest, pressing you back into the mattress. A smirk playing on his lips. The condom hit the sheets a second after. You chuckled, low, breathless.
And then he was on you.
His weight pressed into yours, lips at your ear, voice low.
âTell me again what you said that night.â
âWhat?â you breathed. You could barely remember your own name.
âThat you hate me,â he bit your jaw. âLie to me again, and tell me that you hate me.â
âI hate you,â you saidâexcept it came out soft. Like a kiss. Like a confession.
His mouth traveled down. Kisses trailed heat. You whispered it again. He sucked one nipple.Â
âFuck, I hate you.â and again.
His chest rumbled, a dark chuckle as he closed his eyes and trailed down. He dragged his teeth through your lower belly. It coiled. You fisted the sheets.Â
âMhm, I hate you.â you kept chanting like a shield.
He reached between your legs and moaned into you.
âAhâ I fucking hate you,â you gasped, back arching, fingers clawing at his hair, desperate to keep him there.
âI hate your mouthâŚThose goddamned hands,â and as if on command he squeezed your thighs, his tongue circled, teased, playing with your rationale. âI hateâ Iââ you started losing yourself, hips undulating, trying to meet his pace.Â
Jungkook groanedâdevouring you like heâd never tasted anything real before. You couldnât breathe. Couldnât think. Just moaned, begged, burned.
âDonât stop,â you panted. âJungkookââ
He didnât. He ate like a man dying. Sucked and swirled and bit until your body broke, splintered into light, your orgasm ripping through you like it had claws. You cried out, one hand fisting the sheets, the other holding him there.
âOh, Godâ Fuck!â
He looked at you from between your legs, licking you through it, slow.Â
Then he rose with one last long lick, grinning like a feline, crawling back up, mouth crashing into yoursâletting you taste yourself on his tongue. You kissed him back hard, wild, lips swollen, mind reeling.
He groaned into it, and the condom was in his hand in a second. He ripped the foil and rolled it on. His eyesâblown and wildânever left yours.
His hands found the back of your knees, and he pulled, fast. Like he couldnât bear to wait a second longer.Â
He dropped.
And thrust into youâno warning, just heat and pressure and that tight, perfect stretch.
Your mouths clashed. You kissed like addicts, like two people who had tried everything else but nothing ever came close to this.
Your nails sank into his shoulders, searching for something to hold as he drove into you. Over and over.
Jungkook moaned. Deep and raspy. Feral. One arm braced beside your head. The otherâhe slid under you, gripping your ass, dragging your hips up to meet every punishing thrust.
He fucked you like he was possessed. Like he wanted to possess you.
Your orgasm started building againâfast, feral. He felt it. The way you clawed at his back, your moans climbing in pitch against his neck.
âYou thought we were done?â He wrapped that hellish inked hand around your throatânot tight, just there, a tether. His pace slowed. Unbearably slow. His eyes dark, locked to yours. âIâm not done. Understand?â
You barely had time to gasp before he slid out, flipped you like you weighed nothing.
A whimper escaped your lips, thighs clenching.Â
He reached out, his hand gripped your jaw, angling your head back to him. His breath came hot over your lips. âHead down. Ass up.â
You stared at him, defiantâbecause you could. Then, slowly, you leaned even more toward him, let your tongue flick his lip piercing. A challenge.Â
âIâll let you be the boss tonight, then.â
You caught how his tongue poked his cheek. How rage and lust twined in his eyes, before going on all fours and sinking your head further into the mattress, tauting him.Â
âYouââ he shook his head, jaw tight. He gripped your waist with one hand, the other guiding him to your entrance. âI swear youâll be so spent you wonât be able to run. Not tonight.â
Then he slammed into you.
The sheets muffled your moan. Your clit throbbed as he forced your knee out and drove in againâHard, fast, vicious.Â
âJKâŚâ you cried out.
His hand fisted in your hair, tugging, arching you flush against his chest. Mouth to your ear. âNgh, fuck, babyâit keeps getting betterââ
He pounded into you. You could barely breathe. Barely think.
âYeah,â was all you managed, and you squeezed your eyes shut, taking it.
Your walls clenched. Hands pressed into the sheets, rocking back into him, chasing every stroke.Â
You arched again, his hands pulled, squeezedâslick skin on his thighs, water still clinging to both of you, and all you could think about was that you could be doing this for two weeks had you not been such a coward.
He hit deep. Again. And again.
âHarder,â you whimpered. âAh, right thereâ!â
He grunted and gave it to you.
âJungkook, Iâ Mhmââ You shattered. Your orgasm burst white-hot and ruined you.
He kept going, chasing his own end. His hand closed around your breast as he came, groaning against your back, filling the condom with that sexy, throaty moan of his. It echoed deep in your core.Â
You both collapsedâsweat and steam and aftermath.Â
âFuck,â he panted against your shoulder blades.
A second passed, just your breaths filling the bedroom, thenâ
âJK⌠Youâre crushing me.â You chuckled against the sheets, and he pulled out, breath ragged, rolling onto his back beside you.Â
You stretched out your legs, sore and blissed out. Watched as he rolled the condom off, tossed it toward the bin.
Then he dragged you to his chest. Lazy grin. Warm eyes.
You kissed himâlazy, honey-slow. His throat rumbled with a sound that made your stomach flip.
âStay with me,â he breathed against your lips. âJustââ
âI missed you,â you whispered, fingers sinking into his damp hair.
You felt more exposed than when you were beneath him, neck bare and exposed.
âI missed this.â
He went still. Eyes finding yours. Thenâhe kissed you again, deeper, longer. You wondered if it would ever stop being this⌠head-spinning.Â
When he pulled back, he nuzzled your nose. âI fucking missed you too.â
You lay there. Still breathing. Still burning. Still tangled.
âThey canât know. No one can.â your voice was barely a whisper.Â
You didnât say why. You didnât need to. Jungkook knew.Â
If your superiors caught wiff of itâworse, if whoever was your enemy next did⌠Youâd both have a grave marked with your names.Â
âI know,â he said. Then addedâgrumbling, âBut that informant of yours should. The nerve on that guy!â
You snorted. Rolled your eyes. One hand untangled from his hair to cover his face, pushing gently.
He bit your palm with eyes closed. Dragging the flesh there. The vision did something stupid to you.Â
In a swift motion, you straddled him.
And he looked up at you like you were everything. Just laid there beneath you, round eyes ravaging on the shape of your body on top of his.
Your hands slid to the space between his chest and abs, feeling him, pinning him. He started to breathe hard, slowly hardening under you again.Â
Holy fuck.
His grip returnedâyour hips in his rough palms. Fingers curling.Â
You arched, dipping towards his mouth. Brushing, featherlight, teasing.Â
âYou should know by now Iâm not the most patient guy,â he grunted, fingers running along the expanse of your legs. You laughed against his mouth, low, satisfied.Â
Then you bit. His lip. His jaw. His throat.
When you returned to his mouth and he tried to kiss youâeager, barely in checkâyou stopped him. Smiled. Your lips just hovering, his breath rough.Â
You held him there, hand on his jaw.Â
Then you rolled your hips on his cock, slow, hard.
Jungkook moaned, head tipping back.Â
âMy turn,â you clashed your mouth against his.
A faint rustle broke the silence.
Cold air kissed your bare skinâan empty space beside you where warmth used to be. Your arm instinctively reached out, fingers curling into the mattress before you stirred, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
Jungkook�
You blinked awake. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, lit only by the soft morning sun sneaking in through the curtains. His back was to you, spine a canvas of light and shadow. He bent forward, pulling something from his jeans. The screen of his phone lit up once, a low buzz vibrating through the silence.Â
Shit. Youâd soaked his phone the night before. Please be workingâ
He answered it with a rough, still-sleep-heavy âYeah?â
You moved before your thoughts could catch upâsliding across the sheets like you were weightless, drawn by the scent of him, the pull of him. Your body folded around his, forehead pressing to his shoulder, your mouth tucked into the space just beneath his jaw, breathing him in. He smelled like sweat, like cotton, like you.
He shifted, pulling you closer.Â
Jungkook was so deliciously warm it hurt.Â
âYou owe me, you know,â a voice crackled through the lineâmale, lazy drawl layered with something sharp underneath. âYou dropped a bomb on me last night. Took me four hours to cover it. I want answers.â
The contact.
You hadnât known a name, hadnât needed to. But Jungkook had mentioned someone last night. Someone who could clean up a mess. Now, the puzzle was whole.
Jungkookâs fingers found your thigh, skimming over your skin like it was habit. Like he didnât need to look to know where you were.
âYouâll get them, Taehyung,â he muttered, mouth brushing your hair as he spoke. âGot anything for me?â
A pause. âYeah. I have what you wanted. Meet me in thirty.â
He turned, lips catching yoursâbarely there, like he couldnât not kiss you. Then his hand slid lower, slipping between your legs, teasing, slow and confident.
âMake it two and a half hours,â he said into the phone, voice quieter now, voice that always made you ache.
âTwo and a half? What the hell are youââ
âIâm busy.â A smirk tugged at his mouth. âSend the address.â
He ended the call without waiting, phone thunking softly onto the nightstand. His body turned fully, slow and heavy with sleep and want. He looked at you like you were the only thing that had ever made sense.
âMorning,â his lips found your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. âWhere were we?â
You laughed into his skin, teeth grazing the scar on his shoulderâthe one youâd given him that first mission, when you didnât trust him and heâd called you reckless.
âYou were just about to take off my stitches and then make me breakfast.â
Jungkook grinned, unrelenting. âThen round three in the shower?â
You groaned, but you were already folding, fingers running through the soft and haparzed strands of his hair again, lips catching his.
âRegroup. Round three now, everything else later.â
And he was already on top of the situation. Already on top of you.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#jungkook oneshot#bts smut#jungkook ff#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook
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âś WHEN THE STARS REFUSE TO LIE
in which... you try to break up with your fuck budy, sirius black, but he's not ready to let you go just yet.
pairing: sirius black x slytherin f!reader word count: 1.6k content warning: angst âś fluff âś some cursing, and sirius's irresistible rock star charm
đťđđ đđđđđ time Sirius Black kissed you, it was behind the tapestry of the third-floor corridor. He tasted like rebellion and danger, like the cigarettes he never admitted to smoking behind the Owlery. You were just supposed to be his alibi. A pureblood Slytherin to keep his motherâs mouth shut and her claws from shredding the life he built outside of 12 Grimmauld Place.
But you wore your emerald-green gown like it was armor forged in fire. You looked every bit the darling pureblood, but your smirk had razors tucked in the corners, and your laughter mocked the polished table settings and wine-stained hypocrisy of the Black family name.
You made the room your stage. And SiriusâSirius couldnât look away.
He shouldâve known.
From that dinner onward, you were a secret. The kind he craved more than firewhiskey and freedom. Behind the pretense of Slytherin-Gryffindor enmity, you two unraveled rules and clothes alike in broom closets and forbidden corridors. You knew how to laugh just loud enough to get away with anything. You didnât ask for promises. He never offered any.
But you ruined him anyway.
Because you didnât need him.
And that scared him more than anything.
Now, itâs days after the final Quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor won. Sirius sent you a single line by enchanted parchment: Meet me. Usual place. Celebrate.
But you never came.
Not to the Whomping Willow. Not to the Astronomy Tower. Not to his bed with the charmed silencing spells. You disappeared like mist when the sun rose, and when he checked the Slytherin common room on his map, your dot was gone.Â
You vanished. No note. No closure. The kind of silence that says more than shouting ever could. The kind of silence that makes Sirius Black get on his flying motorbike and cross counties to stand outside your window in Wiltshire.
You hear the purr of the engine before you see him.
Then a thud. Window latch. The scent of leather and wind.
Heâs inside.
He lands in your room like he owns itâlike the world is tilting and heâs the only one immune. His black boots sink into your velvet rug, fingers flexing by his sides, heavy rings glinting with every twitch. His jacket is half-unzipped, revealing a threadbare Muggle band tee, the hem riding up slightly to show a sliver of skin and a sharp hipbone marked with ink.
Sirius looks like sin made tangible. Hair mussed, jaw tight, eyes lined in sleep-deprived defiance.
He looks like trouble. He looks like yours.
And he looks livid.
Youâre already standing. You donât flinch, but your fingers curl into the bedpost behind you.
âSirius.â you cut a quick glance to your bedroomâs closed door out of the habit of this little secret of yours. âYou shouldnât be here.â
He stalks forward a step. Stops. âYouâre avoiding me.â
You lift your chin. âYou noticed.â
His nostrils flare. âYou didnât show.â
Your arms cross, slow and deliberate. âYouâve got options. I assumed you wouldnât be alone long.â
That lands. His jaw ticks. âBloody hell, you think thatâs what this was?â
You shrug, casual crueltyâa perfect Slytherin deflection. âIsnât it?â
He moves again. This time close enough that your breath catches. âI didnât sneak around Hogwarts for months, blowing off my friends, just to toss it aside.â
You tilt your head, defiant even when your heart is hammering. âYou didnât exactly make a declaration either.â
âI didnât think I had to.â
You laugh once. âRight. Because we both knew the rules. No strings. No mess.â
He stares at you like heâs trying to memorize your lies. âI never bloody looked at anyone else.â
You raise an eyebrow, challenging. âNot even that Ravenclaw girl who keeps trailing behind you like a stray? The one Potter keeps pushing on you for stupid double dates?â
He steps in. Too close now. His voice drops. âSheâs not you, Trouble.â
Your breath hitches at the adoration with each he mumbles the nickname. He sees it, and it makes him angrier.
âI didnât ask for this,â you say, before he mentions to inch closer.
âNeither did I.â
He reaches upâlike he might touch youâbut stops, fisting his hand by his side instead. The restraint in him is louder than any outburst.
You take a step back toward your desk, creating space like itâs armor. âYou hate everything I represent, remember?â
He follows, slowly. âYes, I thought I did, yes.â
âThen why are you here?â
You watch Siriusâs hand run through his messy locks, his eyes burning with something between disbelief and frustration. âBecause Iâm not walking away just âcause youâre scared.â
âIâm not scared,â you snap.
âYes, you sure as hell are.â
Your hands tighten around the edge of the desk. âDonât try to psychoanalyze me, Black.â
âWell, Iâm not trying âcause I know what fear looks like. I see it every time I look in the mirror.â His voice falters, then steels. âBut I still showed up, didnât I?â
You swallow, voice quieter. âYou think I want to be some name your mother checks off her list?âÂ
âYouâre not her fucking list! Youâre the exception.â
You laugh, bitter and hard. Your locks tingle your cheeks as you shake your head softly. âYouâre too good at this.â
âAt what?â
âMaking girls believe theyâre the only one.â
Sirius exhales sharply, then crosses the room so fast you barely register it. His hands land on either side of you, bracing the desk behind you, caging you in. He doesnât touch you. But you feel his heat. His tension. His goddamn truth.
âIâm not playing a role. Not with you.â he dives in search of your eyes as you refuse to look at him. It takes the tip of his nose to brush yours for him to finally reel you in. âNever with you.â
Your heart aches. But your pride clings.
âI need it to stop,â you grunt.
His throat works around something raw. âNo.â
âSiriusââ
He leans in, forehead touching yours. âYou think this is easy for me? You think I like that youâre the one person I canât shut out of my head?â
You close your eyes.
âI hate that youâre the one thing I never meant to want,â he breathes and the warmth of it, lingering on your lips, makes you want to melt onto him. âBut here I am, Trouble⌠Donât do this to me.â
Your voice breaks as you inhale as much of him as possible. âI justâ I canât do this anymore, Sirius...â
His hands drop, but he doesnât step back. âThen tell me it didnât matter. That it meant nothing for you.â
You open your eyes. âDonât make me lie.â
He looks at you like the war is already lost. But heâs not leaving the battlefield.
His hand comes to your jaw as he stares deeply into your eyes, much like heâs laying down the only weapon he has left. âThen fucking be with me.â His voice is tight, rough. âI donât get why youâre trying to end this.â
You exhale drily, trying to pry your face out of his hold. Unsuccessfully, your fingers brush instead against your temple like you can wipe the thought away. âBecause I donât want to be a fucking anecdote, for fucks sake. Some story you tell your mates laterâabout the time you fooled around with the Slytherin girl, the pureblood exception.â
His brow furrows, deeply, painfully. Youâre not even looking at him now, eyes flicking to the window like freedom might still be out there. âIâm tired,â you say, softer now. âOf being someoneâs secret. Of pretending it doesnât sting when I see the way they all fawn over you. I canât do that anymore.â
He stays right there in front of you like an impassive wall. His gaze burning your temple, your cheek, your mouth. âSo whatâyou want a boyfriend, is that it?â
You look at him, jaw tight. âI donât need the label. But if youâre with me, youâre with me. No secrets. No side comments. No âitâs complicatedâ when someone asks.â
Sirius blinks. Then he shrugs, all defiance and affection wrapped in a guy trying not to fall apart. âOkay. Iâll be your boyfriend. What else do you need?â
You slap his chest without thinkingâopen-palmed, not hard, but pointed. He bends back a second before straightening his spine and lets out a surprised chuckle.
âIâm fucking serious about this!â you snap, the words cracking on emotion. âYou canât just beâwhateverâabout it. Iâm not going to be with someone who doesnât... like me like me.â
Sirius grins now, not smug but almost awestruck. Like heâs never seen you like this. Like heâs never seen anyone like this. âIn case you havenât noticed yet, Trouble,â he murmurs, voice thick with affection, his ringed fingers tangling with your hair, âYouâve been walking me like a dog for months, and I havenât even complained.â
You freeze.
Then shake your head slowly, lips trembling somewhere between a laugh and a sob. âYouâre an idiot.â
âYeah.â He dives in close again, his other hand coming to brush your cheek. Gentle. Real. âBut Iâm your idiot. If youâll let me be.â
For the first time since this started, you let yourself lean into him. To feel the weight of his body, not burning, not to seek a release from it, but tenderly.Â
You whisper, eyes like a warning, âIf we do this... it really stops being a secret.â
âGood,â he says, voice gravel. âLet it.â
Then his mouth crashes onto yours, and your knees almost buckle if it werenât for his damn hands anchoring you in place.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#sirius black x reader#marauders fanfiction#sirius black#marauders era#sirius black x you#sirius black imagines#sirius black drabbles#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagines#marauders#marauders imagines#mauraders drabbles#marauders scenarios#sirius black scenarios
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âś BLOODY CRAWLING BACK TO YOU
in which... you absolutely hate your co-worker, the insufferable Jeon Jungkook. but you're badly hurt, and somehow, your feet led you to his door.
pairing: jungkook x f!reader âś ( secret agents au ) word count: 7.7k content warning: smut ( mdni ) âś angst âś mentions of blood, bruises, fights, sex, and lots of cursing. a/n: although I'm a sucker for the arctic monkeys original version, this one was inspired by hozier's cover of "do I wanna know". hopefully it's not too soft for what I've written, and if it is... well, sorry bout that !
â đ
đđđđđđ đđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđ đđđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđ đđđ
đ đđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđ đđđ đđđâđ đđđ đđđđđđđđ đ
đđ...
đťđđ đđđđ was biblicalâlike the city itself had decided you were a stain it needed to scrub off the map.
You staggered through alleys slick with city grime, rainwater swirling in neon puddles at your feet. Every step punched a fresh flare of agony through your side, where your coat clung wetly to the blood seeping from beneath. You didnât know if your ribs were bruised, fractured, or split like kindlingâbut every breath felt like dragging lightning into your lungs and hoping you didnât catch fire.
Theyâd said four men. Maybe five.
Theyâd lied. It had been closer to elevenâif you were counting the one catapulted through the window. Youâd clawed your way through that hell. Fought like an animal in a trap. And youâd gotten what you came for. The hard drive burned cold and hard against your belly, its weight heavier than steel.
But now you were bleeding.
And somehow, your bodyâbattered, burningâhad walked you here.
Of all places.
To him.
You stood at his door, water dripping off your soaked clothes to pool at your feet, hand raised in mid-air, suspended in hesitation. The alley behind was too quiet. The storm outside sounded muffled, like the world was pressing in from all sides and this was the eye of it.
You hated him.
You hated him with an intensity that tasted like smoke and felt like lust. Hated his smirk. His arrogance. His voice. His eyes. His mouth. Hated how often you imagined it against your skin, even now.
But you couldnât walk another block.
And you couldnât risk what was in your hidden pocket. Couldnât risk losing yourself out there when you'd already lost too much.
Your fist met the door before your pride could stop it. The knock echoed through the porch. You turned your head, checking behind you out of habit, expecting a shadow to crawl from the storm. Nothing. Another knock, this time louderâsharper, more frantic. Pain bit at your side, sharp as a blade twisting. You doubled slightly, hand pressed harder over the heat blooming beneath your ribs.
And then the door jerked open.
And there he was.
Jeon Jungkook.
Fucking hell.
His black hair was a messâstill damp like heâd just gotten out of the shower, frowzy strands falling across his forehead. His raven eyes, sharp as always, scanned you in a single, sweeping glance. No flicker of surprise. No warmth. Just that same infuriating coolness that always made your blood boil.
âSeriously? Where the fuck have you been? Losing a fight with a sewer?â
His voice was a cold blade, smooth and deadly.
You didnât reply. You looked past him instead, scanning the dark corners behind his shoulderâchecking for threats, anything to distract from his judgment.
âHi to you too,â you muttered, lips twisting in a smile that wasnât a smile at all. Sarcasm was armor, and you wrapped yourself in it fast.
He didnât move. Didnât speak. Just stood there with his arms crossed like heâd been expecting youâand maybe he had.
That was the thing about Jungkook. He knew your tells like battle scars. And he used them.
"Can I come in?" you asked, the words rasping out before you could steel yourself. Your voice cracked, just slightly, under the weight of everything you were trying not to show. "Please."
That made him pause.
Jungkook wasnât used to you asking for anythingâlet alone pleading.
He didnât say a word. Just stepped aside, eyes never leaving yours.
You passed him like smoke, brushing too close, too fast, but not fast enough to miss the heat radiating off his skin. You didnât look at him again. Couldnât.
âThank you,â you muttered, half breath, half defeat.
The door shut behind you with a soft click.
You and Jungkook had been orbiting the same hell for too long. Tossed together by whatever bastard thought pairing oil with fire was a great tactical move. You worked like wolves. Clashed like storms. And when it mattered, you covered each otherâs backs with snarls and bloodstained fists.
Still, you had rules. Self-made. Non-negotiable.
No drinking with him.
No sleeping in the same room.
No letting him see you bleed.
No showing up at his door when you were breaking.
Too late.
The couch called to your bones, but his voice cut through the air like a whip. âYouâre soaking wet.â
You rolled your eyes, dragging a hand through your drenched hair. âNo shit, Sherlock.â
Your fingers found the back of the sofa, steadying yourself as exhaustion clawed at your spine. Your clothes felt like lead. Your skin itched from the dried blood you knew clinged underneath. If you closed your eyes, you were done for. So you didnât.
He moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Leaned against the frame, arms folded, every muscle taut beneath the hold of a black shirt. The batteredâand quite edgyâfabric hugged his torso like it wanted to be torn off. His sweatpants hung dangerously low, a taunt all on their own.
Your gaze flicked down. Just once.
Big mistake.
"Iâm assuming you got it?"
The husky scrape of his voice pulled your head up. You stared for a beat, then moved to the table in the kitchen like your legs werenât screaming with every step.
"What do you think?" you bit back, reaching into your jacket and yanking out the hard drive. You chucked it at him without ceremony. âPrick.â
He caught it with the kind of lazy precision that always pissed you off. No flinch. No reaction. Just a long look, like he was trying to read past the rain and bruises to what lay underneath.
But your coat was still on. Your secrets still safeâfor now.
You slumped into a chair. He moved beside you, sliding his laptop across the table and plugging in the drive.
"âKay then, let's just throw the thing around so we lose the leverage we have and money we wonât be paid for."
You allowed yourself to shut your eyes for a second, and leaned your head against the wall behind you. âDramatic as ever.â
The clicking of his keyboard filled the room. Rhythmic. Familiar. You focused on it like it might keep you conscious.
âWhat took you so long then? Are you that out of shape?â
A small laugh escaped, tight with pain. âAs if.â You shifted in your chair, wincing as fire flared under your ribs. âThey lied. There were more of them than their intel promised. A lot more,â you muttered, voice brittle with leftover rage.
The keyboard stopped.
You opened your eyes to find him staring.
âHow many?â
You let out a breath. Winced again. âTen? Maybe twelve? I didnât exactly count heads while they were trying to break mine open.â
His expression faltered.
Just a crack. A flicker. Barely thereâquick enough that anyone else mightâve missed it. But you saw it. The sharp flash of something unspoken that darted through his gaze like a bladeâgone just as quickly as it came.
He stood slowly. Like he was bracing for impact. Like he could already taste the blood in the air. His movements were quiet, calculated. An animal not yet sure if it needed to strike or mend.
âYouâre hurt.â
The words were low, almost a growl. Not concerned. Not yet. But deadly focused.
âNot really.â You shot back too fast. Too automatic. The deflection barely made it past your lips before another sharp wince cut through you, slicing clean under your ribs like a warning. âIâm just soaked⌠and sore. Pretty normal after rain and knocking out a few men.â
His gaze sharpened.
Whatever heâd been doing on his laptop no longer mattered. Jungkook stepped closer, leaving the glow of the screen behind like it was nothing. His full attention snapped to you like the click of a safety being released.
His eyes dragged over youâslow, deliberate. Mapping out every flinch, every shiver of pain beneath your soaked jacket. You felt stripped bare, despite the layers you still wore. You hated that look. Hated how closely he could read you. Like his fingers werenât the only things that could undo you.
You shifted back in your seat instinctively, tension rippling down your spine.
But his voice cut through your retreat like iron.
âTake that off.â
The command didnât even try to be soft. You saw the way his jaw tensed around it, like he hated how much he wanted to say itâand how badly he meant it.
Your breath stilled. An unholy cocktail of defiance and heat clawed up your throat.
âExcuse me?â
âYou're drenched,â he said, cool and precise, but his tone wasnât nearly as detached as he wanted it to be. âYou're shaking. And now I can bet my ass you're bleeding too.â
His eyes droppedâtoo focused, too darkâand locked onto your side. His voice lowered, rough like gravel. âJust get in the bathroom.â
Oh. Oh. He was fucking serious.
And that made you want to punch him.
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed the heat rising in itârage, maybe. Or something worse. Your fingers curled tight against your thigh, jaw grinding. âYou can ready your ass then âcause you couldnât be more wrong!â
But even you didnât believe that. Your body throbbed in agreement, every nerve screaming betrayal beneath the slick black of your sleeves. You knew how to fake strength. But you were running out of it.
You stood. Slowly. Painfully. If you could just make it to the doorâ
âYou have the package,â you muttered, trying to keep your spine straight, even as your knees threatened to fold. âI already did my part. Now you keep it safe.â
You turned your back to him. The mistake was thinking heâd let you go.
You barely made it four steps before his hand was gripping the collar of your jacket, yanking you to a halt. âJust get in the fucking bathroom, for fuckâs sake!â
"Or what?" You spun, fury lashing in your tone, a snarl curling your lips as your fingers fumbled furiously with the zipper.
You would leave his place with or without the damn jacket. You didnât care. This was a mistakeâcoming here, letting him see you like this, giving him even an inch of something he could hold over you.
"Or I'll fucking make you," he growled, yanking the jacket from your shoulders as the zipper finally gave way.
The motion twisted your arms awkwardly, pain lancing through your side with a white-hot burn. You faltered. A sharp breath escaped you as your knees buckled.
He caught you immediately.
And when he steadied you, it wasnât with roughness. It wasnât with victory.
âSorry. FuckâI'm sorry.â His voice dropped, rough and ragged, hands gently guiding you back upright. âJust⌠please, let me help you.â
Your head fell forward, forehead brushing the side of his shoulder. Not from affection. From sheer exhaustion. From not having the strength to keep up the fight.
When you finally opened your eyes again, his were already watching you, one hand dragging through his hair in a clear sign of restraint. His chest rose and fell beneath that clinging shirt, his breath a little too uneven.
âLookâyou came to me. Youâre already here.â His hand returned to your hip, grounding and firm. âLet me just take a look at that.â
You opened your mouth, ready to throw another snarky line just to keep the rhythm of control in your corner, but before you could, he was already steering youâgently, insistentlyâtoward the bathroom.
âJungkookââ
His hand shot up near your mouth, not touching, just fingers curling in the air like he was this close to losing whatever thread of patience he had left.
âJustâshut your pretty mouth for a second.â He turned to open the bathroom door, not waiting to see if you obeyed. âGet in. Take that off.â
He nodded toward your shirt and gave the smallest push to your lower back. âIâll be right back. No arguing.â
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind you.
His bathroom was bigger than expected. Clinical. Sterile. Almost too neat for someone in this line of work. But it made sense, in that strange, maddening way Jungkook always did. Controlled chaos in the fieldâtotal discipline at home.
The dim light spilled down the tiled walls in long, moody shadows. The floor was freezing under your bare feet as you peeled off your shirt, every movement stiff with pain. Your fingers trembled, but you managed it.
Your cargo pants stuck to your thighs, soaked and heavy. You unfastened them, sliding them low enough to access the damageâonly to the curve of your hips. Anything more and your pride would unravel too.
You sank onto the closed toilet lid in just your open pants and a black sports bra, arms bracing hard on the basin. Your breath came shallow, dizzy from blood loss.
The door swung open, startling you.
You jerked, arms flying up to cover your chest. âYou could always knock.â
âAnd miss the show?â His voice was low, shamelessâbut it didnât bite. There was no cruelty, only that maddening velvet steel that was his signature.
He stepped in slowly, kneeling before you with a med kit tucked under one arm, movements deliberate and devastatingly calm. The sight of him like thatâon his knees, flushed skin and damp hair, inked arm flexing beneath that cursed black shirtâmade your stomach twist violently.
Desire, or pain. Maybe both.
âJust give me thatâI can manage,â you said, reaching for the bottle of antiseptic in his hand.
But his fingers wrapped around yours, guiding your arm down with a tenderness that disarmed you more than any threat. âNo, you canât.â
He looked at youâreally lookedâhis eyes falling to the crimson trail running from your ribs, jaw tightening as he exhaled. âThisâll sting.â
His hands hovered over your skin, the gauze paused midair. He wasnât moving. Just staring at your torso like it told a story he hated reading.
You shifted. âWell?â
That snapped him out of it.
He pressed the antiseptic to your wound and your world exploded.
âSon of aââ
âBreathe.â His voice was a rasp, low and oddly soft, his free hand finding your hip. His fingers didnât pressâjust steadied. A quiet promise not to let you fall.
And for a second, you let him hold you like that.
You lost track of everything once he peeled the bloodied gauze away, his movements deft and careful. Jungkook picked up a hooked needle with the same deadly focus youâd seen him use while disarming a bomb or loading a gun. His teeth came down to snap the nylon thread, the noise sharp in the bathroomâs too-quiet air. Your breath hitched.
Modesty didnât matter now. Not with the sweat on your brow, the taste of copper in your mouth, and the burn that spread from your side like a live wire. You uncurled your arms from your chest and gripped the basin and wall behind you, knuckles whitening, fingers digging into porcelain.
âOh, GodâŚâ
You didnât mean to say it out loud.
He noticedâof course he noticed. Jungkookâs eyes darted to your face. Then his hands came down to your knees, grounding you with a touch that was unexpectedly steady. Unexpectedly warm. Like an anchor.
You couldnât stop staring at the needle, though.
Your gaze clung to it like it might jump at you. You werenât new to fieldworkâscars littered your skin like a patchwork of every mission that had gone sideways. But stitching? That was personal. Up-close and brutal. It wasnât the pain that got to you. It was the implication. The intimacy of being opened and closed again in someone elseâs hands.
Worse than all that was him seeing you like this.
Panicked. Fraying. Human.
âHey.â
His voice slipped through your spiraling thoughts.
Then his hand was on your faceâfirm and unrelenting. His fingers curved under your jaw and tilted your chin down, forcing your eyes to meet his. He looked thunderous, but not in the way youâd grown to expect. Not cruel. Not smug. He looked⌠patient. Focused. Like he was trying to will the fear out of you.
âYou really need the stitches, baby,â he said, and the nickname unraveled something low and sharp inside your chest. âI donât have anesthesiaâBut Iâll make it quick, I promise.â
You blinked at him, momentarily mute.
It wasnât just the painâit was the softness, the way he said baby like it was a secret he hadnât meant to let slip. You didnât know if you wanted to slap him or lean into him.
Your chest tightened. So you nodded, barely.
âThatâs it. Keep your eyes on me.â
And then he stitched.
The pain came instantly. Sharp and molten. Your whole body flinched, muscles locking as you grabbed your discarded shirt beside you and shoved it into your mouth to muffle the cry. It was either that or scream.
But you didnât look away from him.
Not once.
Even through the haze of agony, you couldnât ignore how he looked up at you between every pull of the thread. His brows furrowed in concentration, his lashes casting shadows over cheekbones sharpened by the low light. That little scar he had on his left one. Every few seconds, his eyes found yours, like he needed to make sure you were still breathing.
And worseâyou liked that he was watching.
His fingers moved too near your skin, grazing the edges of you, slow and precise. With each tug of the needle, a jolt ran through your spine. Not all from pain. Your body was buzzing, alive in a way that made you clench your jaw and hate every molecule of awareness you had.
Because why did he have to be this close?
Why did you want him closer?
You took the shirt out of your mouth and swallowed hard. The tension in your voice matched the tension on your skin. âYou always do this?â
He didnât look up. âDo what?â
âPlay medic for strays?â
His jaw clenched tight, shadow gathering under his cheekbone. His hand paused on the final stitch, threading the knot harder than needed. His silence was louder than a curse.
He tossed the needle aside like it had burned him, shoving the med kit across the tiles with a careless flick of his hand.
âOnly the ones that run into traps alone.â
The words cut deeper than the stitches.
His hands hovered in his lap, still curled into fists. You watched his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make that faint, telltale line dent his cheek. The one that only showed when he was furious. When he was trying to hold back.
You knew that look. Youâd seen it too many times. He always wore it before things exploded.
âYou shouldâve told me,â he said finally. His voice was raw, softer than before. A confession, almost.
You couldnât handle that softness.
Your gaze dropped to the floor, jaw tight. âItâs just a scratch,â you muttered, but the words rang false in your ears yet again.
He sat back on his heels, eyes still burning through you. âJust a scratch,â he repeated, the laugh hollow. âYeah, right.â
The silence that followed wrapped around you like a vice.
Not peaceful. Not even quiet. It throbbedâthe kind of quiet that made your skin prickle and your lungs tighten. It felt like something had cracked open between you, and neither of you knew how to close it.
You moved to stand, needing air, spaceâanything that wasnât this. But before your muscles could engage fully, his hand came down, flat and sure, against your thigh.
Not a grip.
Not a threat.
Just there.
âDonât,â he said.
You made the mistake of meeting his raven eyes.
Electricity. Thatâs what it felt like. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the dark brown whole, and there was something feral clawing behind them. Something wild. Untamed.
Not hate.
Need.
âIâm not staying,â you whispered, barely able to push the words past the burn in your throat.
Jungkook rose in one fluid movement. He was suddenly there, towering over you, too close, too solid, the heat of him crowding the air.
âYouâre not going anywhere.â
The words were a promise. A warning. Maybe both.
He turned his back to you before you could respondâwalked to the sink like the conversation was over. He scrubbed his inked knuckles hard, the water hissing as it hit the porcelain, blood swirling down the drain in thin, ghost-red streams. He didnât look at you once.
But he didnât have to.
He thought youâd stay.
So you stood. Fast. Pain stabbed through your side, but adrenaline burned hotter. You clutched your wet shirt like a weapon, storming for the door with your pride clenched so tight it nearly suffocated you.
He moved before you could touch the handle.
âWhat is it now? Huh?â His voice snapped like a whip. âWhatâs the hurry?â
He stood in front of the door like a sentinel. Like heâd expected this after all. His body blocked every inch of escape.
âIâm going home,â you bit, hand flying to the knob. âYou have the damn drive, you donât need me to run it. Iâm done here.â
His hand clamped over yours, solid and immovable. His grip was hot, skin calloused. Like steel locked against silk.
âYou were bleeding just a second ago, goddammit! Youâre hurt. Thereâs no way in hell Iâm letting you out of here.â
Your voice dropped, venomous. âYou donât get to decide.â
Jungkook leaned in, so close you could feel the fire of him, smell the faint cotton-and-cigarette scent clinging to his skinâa contradiction so sharp it made your breath hitch. His voice came out low, all grit and fury, the heat of it brushing your cheek like a threat.
âI do when my co-worker is falling apart and pretending to be fine. Youâre not going the fuck out there like that and thatâs final. I didnât stitch you up only for you to drop dead.â
You didnât speak. Not with words.
Your body did.
You shoved him.
Hard.
Your palms collided with his chest and he staggered back, spine hitting the door with a thud that echoed like a gunshot. His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his neck. And for a secondâjust one secondâyou thought he might lunge. There was that flare in his eyes again. That glint of the monster you knew better than most. Want tangled with rage. But he didnât move.
He just stood there, breathing hard, teeth clenched behind those pierced lips he didnât part. The way he staredâlike he could rip you apart and worship you in the same breathâlit something molten in your chest.
Then, abruptly, he turned his face away, playing nervously with the loops piercing his bottom lip. Calmed himself. Swallowed it all.
âIâm running you an ice bath,â he muttered, voice flat but dragging like smoke over gravel. âItâll help with the bruises. Trust me, youâll thank me tomorrow.â
You didnât answer. You didnât need to. You stood there, vibrating with the fury and the pull, while he moved like a storm through the bathroom, filling the tub. You could hear the splash of the water hitting porcelain, could see the slow swirl of mist rising where frost met heat. Jungkook crouched and pulled something from behind the tubâa coiled noose of silver tubing, a trickle system you hadnât noticed. Typical. Always had a backup.
âThereâs clean towels there,â he said, passing you on his way out, pointing to a cabinet with one long finger. His shoulder brushed yoursâintentionally or not, it didnât matter. It burned. âDonât lock it,â he added without looking at you, already opening the door. âJust in case something happens. I wonât come in. Justâspare me from having to barge through it, will you?â
Then he was gone, the door closing behind him like a full stop.
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The room was quiet except for the hum of the water. You exhaled slowly, peeling away the rest of your clothes as you hated yourself for complying so easily. The sports bra clung to your skin like a second wound, and your pants stuck as if determined to keep every painful inch of the night stitched to you. Your underwear followed. Cold air rushed in against your naked skin, but it wasnât the chill that had your blood racing.
You stood over the tub for a moment, teeth sinking into your lip as your fingers hovered. Then, jaw tight, you slipped in.
It was ice.
Literal ice.
You hissed, biting down a scream as the freezing water bit into your bones like knives. But you didnât get out. You let it happen. Let it burn the heat off your skin. Let it numb the ache in your side and slow the beat of the panic still coiled in your gut.
You stayed submerged there until the pain was dulled by anotherâthe kind that started to settle in your fingertips, the subtle ache of skin flushing blue at the nails.
Thatâs when you moved. Slowly. Deliberately.
You rose, dripping and goose-pimpled, wrapping yourself in the thick towel you found exactly where he said it would be. Your body felt like it didnât belong to you anymore, your brain spinning in that hollow, too-calm way that meant you were still in survival mode.
Your eyes fell to your soaked clothes on the floor and tugged at your bottom lip again. Maybe you could use Jungkookâs drier and then call a cab or something. You gulped drily, looking down on yourself and the towel that hid even less than your previous attire.Â
But then again, the feeling of having the wet clothing itching back your skin, tormenting your wounds, made you want to yell.Â
You decided by leaving them in a heap in the corner and opened the bathroom door with a breath you didnât know youâd been holding.
And there he was.
Leaning against the wall right across from the door.
Waiting for you.
Like he knew you wouldnât bolt.
Like he dared you to.
His eyes dragged up your form slowly, drinking in the towel, the steam curling around your hair, the flush in your cheeksânot just from the water. His lips parted slightly, breath shallow, but he didnât speak.
The silence between you screamed enough.
He exhaled like he was trying to drag the edge off himself, and you stood there in a trance, waiting for him to move first in this chessboard you stood on every time you were face to face.Â
âItâs late. Take my bed,â Jungkook said finally, shoulders tensing, fists balled up inside the pockets of his sweatpants. âThe couch is a wreck and youâre not curling up on the floor like some damn street cat.â
Your laugh cut through the air, sharp and disbelieving. âDonât fucking order me around.â
âOh, I will, since you bled all over my bathroom and all that,â he shot back without missing a beat, turning down the hall like heâd already won. He didnât even check if you were following, but of course you didâseething and restless and not quite finished.
Jeon Jungkook was the king of final words. He collected them like weapons. Filed them sharp and threw them with intention. You doubted he even knew how to end a sentence without stamping it in blood.
When he reached his bedroom, the sight of his rumpled sheets made you pause in the doorway. They looked like him. Dark and messy and lived-in. He strode over to a dresser, fingers trailing over the wood as if the casualness could fool either of you. It didnât. His every movement was intentionalâcontrolled, like he was holding himself together at the seams.
âIâm not staying,â you said again, softer this time. A warning, or maybe a plea.
He didnât turn around. âYou are.â
Then his gaze liftedâthrough the mirror perched above the dresser. It met yours with devastating precision, and the current in the room sparked like something struck metal.
The bedroom shrank. The walls leaned in. The air felt heavier with every breath you stole, your pulse thudding traitorously against your skin.
You felt everything too muchâthe towel clutched tight around your chest, the damp fabric molding to your curves; the tendrils of wet hair brushing along your spine; the sting of cold air on your bare thighs. Your nipples peaked beneath the cotton, begging for a little more friction.
Jungkook turned finally, grabbed a shirt from the drawerâwhite, of all thingsâand tossed it to you with a flick of his wrist, eyes somewhere over your head. âIâll dry your clothes after you put that on.â
You caught the shirt with one hand, inhaling as it settled in your grip. It was soft. Lived-in. You could smell him on it.
He gestured with a jerk of his chin. âBedâs clean.â
You rolled your eyes instead of answering. Arguing now was pointless.
You could dig your heels in, sure. But your body ached. Your side pulsed. Outside, the rain hadnât let up for hours. And the bastards youâd escaped tonight werenât going to rest easy. If they were hunting, you werenât up for round two.
Plus, he did say he would dry your clothes for you. Youâd have to wait for that anyway.
Jungkook watched your stance shiftâread the surrender in your silence like the tactician he was. Deciding it was safe, he stepped forward, back to the mirror, facing away from you.
He gave you privacy. As if it mattered anymore. As if he hadnât already seen you stitched and half-naked, skin marked with blood and bruises.
Still, you waited.
You kept your eyes locked on his broad back, on the way his shoulders tightened when you didnât immediately move. He wasnât relaxedâhe was steel braced for impact. Like he knew what would happen if he turned again.
You let the towel slip. Slowly. Let it fall in a whisper at your feet before grabbing his shirt and tugging it on. It clung in places, soft cotton sticking to damp skin. His scent curled around you, confusingly comforting, irritatingly intimate.
You tugged at the hemâuseless. It barely brushed your thighs.
âOf all the black shirts you own, you had to choose the white one for me? For real?â
He turned thenâand froze.
His eyes dropped again. Just for a second. Took in the stretch of your legs, the curve of your hips, the little puddle starting to soak through the shirt as you brought your hair all to one side. His throat bobbed.
And when his gaze snapped back to yours, it was searing.
âIâm fine,â you found the need to reassure him, stepping forward. Too close. âThis isnât my first rodeo.â
âI know,â he said hoarsely, voice wrecked. âThatâs the problem.â
His eyes were wildâsomething caged came back, clawing just behind them once more. Like if he stayed a second longer, heâd do something neither of you could undo.
And so, he bolted.
âIâll finish checking the drive,â he barked, already halfway through the door, not sparing a glance back, closing it behind him.
You were left alone, blinking in the sudden silence, his scent still clinging to your skin, your blood still thrumming like a war drum.
You crossed the room slowly, each step softer than the last, until your legs hit the edge of his bed. And then, without thinking too hard, you slipped beneath his sheets, still warm from his body.
And for the first time in hours, you let exhaustion win.
Your eyes felt too heavy to open, but it was your own voice that betrayed you firstâa soft medley of a moan and a whimper, curling out of your throat like it hadnât asked for permission.
Everything smelled like him.
The cotton warmth of Jungkookâs bedsheets clung to your skin, soaked in his scent, and it made your limbs feel heavier, your thoughts more tangled. You shifted beneath its weight, your body aching and too warm under the covers. A chill skittered down your spine regardless.
Was there a window open?
You clenched the pillow under your head, breath catching as another whimper slipped out, softer this time, needier. âJungkook,â you whispered into the sheets, the sound too raw for comfort, too real.
And then you felt itâthat presence.
Like a sixth sense, prickling beneath your skin. The faint light beneath the door drew the silhouette of a man carved out of stillness, perfectly rigid, perfectly silent.
Your pulse surged.
Maybe he hadnât heard. Maybe you were imagining it. Fever dreams could do that.
But your breathing turned shallow, and the room spun slightly, dragging your consciousness fully awake. You could feel him, even without seeing his face. You could feel the way his attention wrapped around you from the other side of the door like a noose waiting to tighten.
And then your mouth betrayed you again, raspy from sleep and dry with nerves. âAre you coming in or not?â
The silence fractured.
The door creaked, slow and deliberate. The knob turned with a soft click, and then he was there.
Jungkookâs eyes latched onto yours like a hook in the gut. Gone was the usual sharpness, replaced by something rawâwide and glassy, like heâd just lost a fight with his own thoughts. His hair was a darker mess than earlier, like heâd run his hands through it in frustrated loops. His face looked shadowed, haunted. Sleep hadnât touched him.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, heat flashing beneath your skin. The thin sheet pooled at your hips, clinging to the sweat and fever coating your bare legs.
He just stood there.
âI tried the couch,â he said, voice low, almost hoarse. Like it hurt to speak.
You swallowed. Hard. âM-My clothes are probably dry now, Iâll goââ
âNo.â His voice cracked with something too sharp to be gentle. He gripped the frame of the door with both hands, like he needed to anchor himself or else heâd do something reckless. âStay. Itâs not that.â
His eyes followed your leg sliding beneath the sheets, and your breath stilled.
âWhat is it then?â you asked, trying not to let your voice tremble.
Jungkook hesitatedâthen his jaw clenched, breath flaring through his nose. âI kept hearing you⌠couldnât sleep.â
You licked your lips, nodding faintly. âI think Iâm breaking down in a fever.â
That was all it took.
He stepped inside, slow like he was wading through quicksand. As if afraid you might flinch. His knees met the edge of the bed and he hovered there, wavering fingers finally lifting to your forehead. Then your cheek. Then the slope of your neck. His touch was gentle, hesitant. Like he was afraid to confirm what he already knewâbut hungrier for the permission to touch you than he shouldâve been.
You didnât look away.
Your eyes stayed locked on his while his palm lingered against your pulse. And there was heat there, not just from the fever. Your thighs shifted under the sheets, friction teasing your skin in all the wrongâand rightâplaces.
âSo?â you asked, breathless.
Jungkook didnât respond right away. His hand was still on your neck, fingers grazing the sensitive skin behind your ear. His lips parted like heâd forgotten how to breathe.
âLet me⌠uh, let me check on the stitches.â
He pulled his hand away too slowly, reluctantly, and the air felt colder where heâd been. You nodded faintly, heart hammering, remembering suddenlyâdamn. You were still only wearing his shirt.
You swallowed again and tugged the covers higher over your hips before raising the hem of his shirt. You stopped right under your breasts, baring the stitched flesh to his eyes.
His breath caught audibly.
He didnât say a word. Just reached out, and when his fingers found the edge of your wound, they were soft. Reverent. He traced the perimeter of the bruising like he was learning it by touch.
Your eyes fluttered. You hadnât expected that kind of delicacy from him. But it was undoing you in pieces.
Then his fingers drifted lower. Barely an inch, grazing your skin like they had no business being thereâbut made themselves welcome anyway. Your stomach coiled, every inch of you taut with anticipation. And when he reached your lower belly, your breath hitched and a moan slipped out.
He froze.
âIââ he whispered, mentioning to pull back his fingers. âI should stop.â
You were faster.
Your hand shot out, seizing his wrist, eyes blazing. âDonât stop. Donât you dare stop.â
His breathing turned frantic, eyes wide and searching your face like it was a war he didnât want to win.
âYou donât know what youâre saying.â his voice trembled but made no move to get out of your hold. âYou have a fever andââ
âAnd Iâd say the same if I hadnât one,â you interrupted, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt until his lips hovered over yours.
Jesus, you had to be fucking delirious.Â
You struggled to pin his gaze, feeling the burning of your wound from holding your abs tight from the position you were in. But you werenât stopping this.Â
He growled low, like something deep in him finally snappedâand crashed his mouth onto yours.
Your fingers threaded through his hair instantly, tugging with just the right amount of pressure. He moaned into the kiss, biting your lower lip, devouring you with an intensity that blurred every line youâd drawn.
Clothes started melting away, yours first. Jungkookâs mouth only left yours to slide his t-shirt over your head. Then his hands ran all over your naked back as he trailed a path from your neck to the sweet spot beneath your ear, lowering you back down.Â
His tongue lashed and you could feel his body was heat and tension and want as you pulled him closer to you. âYouâre mine.â he whispered.
God, you needed his clothes gone.Â
You tipped your head back into the pillow, a whimper falling out of your mouth as you savored the warmth of his mouth back on your throat. The faint sting of his hand brushing against your ribs completely subsided by the knee he had between your legs, occasionally brushing against your core through the sheets.Â
âFor tonight,â you teased with a grin.Â
Jungkook fisted your hair and covered your mouth ardently, and you moaned feeling his damn tongue all the way down between your legs where you needed him most. Your toes curled in pleasure.Â
You didnât know if it was the burning fever taking control over your body or your own unbridled desire, but you needed him closer, needed to feel his skin on yours.Â
You started clawing his black t-shirt impatiently and he chuckled against your mouth, bringing his hand to the collar of it, pulling it out for you.Â
His heat poured onto your torso immediately and you shivered, letting your fingers glide over his narrow waist, getting under the waistband of his sweatpants and pulling them down to his thighs.Â
When you mentioned doing the same with his boxer briefs, mind dizzy as you felt him hard beneath it, he gripped your wrist, halting your movement.Â
âGod, youâre killing me,â he lifted himself inches off your face, staring deeply, voice wrecked with need. âWe canâtââ
âI told you. This is not my first rodeo,â you said against his mouth. âAnd I donât want to think about all of this. Just finish what you started.âÂ
Jungkook growled and his hand came down on your collarbone, pushing you. You fell back down onto the pillow, gasping as your hair fanned around you. He got up, baring his teeth, yanking his sweatpants and briefs all the way down.Â
Your heart started thumping in your ears, heat firing your chest, neck, cheeks, as your eyes drifted up his body. Your own burning for him.Â
Fuck. Perfect golden skin. Tight stomach, narrow waist. Toned arms, one of them inked to the knucklesâa devil in the night ready to pounce.Â
Killing smile.Â
Gentle, so fucking gentle with you tonight.Â
Jesus, you really were fucking delirious.Â
You clenched your thighs, but he kept pinning you down with his eyes, clearly unhappy about you being injured as well as you not wanting to think about the repercussions of what was going on between the both of you. Which you found adorable because his eyes kept darting to your breasts and then to your thighs as you peeled the sheets from them and watched him struggle to breathe.Â
Jungkook was as untamed as you were, and he couldnât stop the storm coming any more than you could.Â
Suddenly, all of him was stretched above you, fitted against your body like sin. He squeezed your thigh, pushing it down on the mattress, and you spread your legs wider. A whimper left your mouth when he came down grinding on you. Your back arching, eyes closing as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.Â
âMmm,â you fisted his hair back again, relishing on the softness of his raven locks.
His hips dipped again, rolling against you, and you bit your lips, pulling his face toward your mouth. âYou haveââ you tried as another roll of his body made you clench. âAhâplease tell me you have something.âÂ
He looked up to your eyes, smiling. âYeah.â
You bit his lower lip, dragging your teeth as he gasped and squeezed your under-thigh. You locked one ankle on his lower back, pushing him into you.Â
âAh, fuck,â he moaned.
His body stretched as he reached for his bedside table, opening the drawer and haphazardly pulling out its contents until he found what he was looking for. Your mouth only left his neck once he rose up, taking out a condom, looking down at you from between your legs.Â
Jungkookâs eyebrows were etched in anger as he tore the wrapper with his teeth. His eyes never leaving your body as he tossed it and fisted his cock.Â
Instinctively your hand came down to rub your clit and he groaned.Â
He looked like a god staring down on you as he rolled the rubber on. Your head swarmed with the vision, your fingers working faster, tummy coiling expectantly.Â
âYouâre so fucking hot it hurts,â he breathed hard, coming down on you again. Your eyes locked as he reached between you to guide himself.Â
Your hands snaked around his neck, one tugging at the hair on his nape as he crowned your entrance, pushing inside just barely. You couldnât help but clench. âJKâŚâ and he groaned in response.Â
âYouâll be crawling back to me,â he whispered, pressing himself deeper and deeper.Â
You moaned, relishing how he stretched you.
âYou can run away as much as you like,â he kept going, grunting as his inked knuckles wrapped around your neck. âThrow a tantrum for all I careâŚâ
He sank into you, filling you to the brink, so deep, stretching you so completely, that a single cry torn straight from your throat.Â
âBut after tonight, youâll be crawling back to me,â Jungkook growled. âAgain and againâYouâll be fucking mine.âÂ
His mouth crashed into yours, making you moan, bringing your legs to the small of his back as he withdrew and sank back in deeper and harder.
âOh, fuck,â your back arched off the bed.Â
Your breathing became labored as he propped himself with his other hand, staring you down as he plunged into you over and over. He gave a little squeeze on your neck, and you clenched around his cock, making him moan, dipping his head back for a moment.Â
Jeon Jungkook felt so good.Â
God, he felt amazing on top of you.Â
You clawed your way from his pecs, down to his abs, and you felt it tighten under your touch. His pace turning unruly, wild. Â
You spread your legs wide, as wide as they would go, dazed with fever and how good it felt the deeper he went. âNhg, you feel so fucking goodâfuck,â he gasped.Â
âI needââ you held onto him and he sucked the air groaning, âHarder, JK.â he rolled his hips into you on command.Â
God, you were spiriling.Â
Your hands snaked around his waist, and you digged your nails into his ass, helping him roll into you harder, as you met him halfway.Â
Sweat glistened your bodies, and it was getting hard to breathe. You couldnât give a damn if the stitches would tear, the lush pressure of him on top of you, inside of you, kept your mind reeling.Â
Youâll be fucking mine, he had said.Â
You already were.Â
âJungkook, Iââ you gasped, trying to mold his body to yours as your orgasm started building. âJungkookââ
âWhat, Jungkook, what?â he teased.Â
But your mouth came to the curve of his neck and collarbone instead, biting and moaning as he kept ramming your spot over and over.Â
Your nails dragged down his back, burning his skin as you arched into him. You cried out as you found your release, the world spinning, your body wrecked as euphoria crashed into you.Â
Holy shit.Â
Jungkook came completely undone a few erratic thrusts later, with the sexiest moan youâd ever heard in your life. He managed to hold himself from collapsing on top of your wound, shifting gently to the side.Â
You were both a tangled and panting mess. You closed your eyes, enjoying his heavy breathing on your mouth.Â
You felt his hand snaking to your hair again, turning your head to the side. He pecked on your mouth slowly until you opened for him, not helping the whimper as your tongues collided again.Â
âJungkook, what?â he asked again lazily, his eyes barely opening, hazy with pleasure. âWhat was it that you were going to say before?â
A laugh rumbled on your chest, low. You nuzzled your nose on his and although you were unable to remember what the hell you were about to say, you decided to do what you did bestâtease him.Â
âOh, nothing⌠I was just going to say that, uhm, I hate you.â you kept your eyes closed, waiting for his reaction.Â
When he didnât utter a single word, you opened one of them to see his eyebrows were angry and he tilted his head in that way you fucking loved to tease him about it.Â
âYou do know Iâm literally still inside youâ?âÂ
You snorted, rolling to the side and claiming his mouth once more.Â
God, you were fucked.Â
-âáŻâś part two !
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#jungkook oneshot#bts smut#jungkook ff#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook
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✠⸝ GREEK MYTHOLOGY AU !
summary: they say the muses abandoned olympus. what they donât say is why. some claimed betrayal. others whispered that a god particularly feared their power more than any titan⌠but they didnât dieâthey ran. disguised in mortal skin, hiding from the gods they once inspired. now the primordials have built the veil, a trap dressed as a game, and three have been caught. hunted. suspected. desired by the ones who shouldâve protected them. and the games have only just begun. ââââ FOOTNOTE. â this is a series of drabbles belonging in the same timeline and universe.
HADES.
â
°. ballad of fire and ash ( angst âś almost smut )
APOLLO.
â
°. burning, traitorous sun ( angst )
Š ACHERONSOCIETY, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#greek gods x reader#greek mythology#greek gods au#the muses#greek gods#hades x reader#x reader#apollo x you
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GREEK MYTHOLOGY.
✠⸝ GREEK GODS SERIES !
â
°. MUSES OF DROWNED TRUTHS ( masterlist )
this is a series of drabbles belonging to the same timeline and universe, in which each god will be paired with a muse you. ✠contains: smut ( mdni ), angst ᯠongoing / series
BTS.
✠⸝ JUNGKOOK !
â
°. BLOODY CRAWLING BACK TO YOU ( secret agents au )
you absolutely hate your co-worker, the insufferable Jeon Jungkook. but you're badly hurt, and somehow, your feet led you to his door. ✠contains: smut ( mdni ), angst ᯠoneshot
â
°â
°. BLOODY CRAWLING BACK TO YOU, AGAIN ( secret agents au )
you thought you absolutely hated your co-worker, the insufferable Jeon Jungkook. but then you slept together, you avoided himâand now he's at your door. âś contains: smut ( mdni ), angst ᯠoneshot / sequel
THE MARAUDERS.
✠⸝ SIRIUS BLACK !
â
°. WHEN THE STARS REFUSE TO LIE
you try to break up with your fuck budy, sirius black, but he's not ready to let you go just yet. ✠contains: fluff, angst ᯠdrabble
✠⸝ REMUS LUPIN !
â
°. SECRETS IN THE SUNLIGHT
you offer to help remus lupin with sunscreen, only to discover the scars heâs been hidingâand the reason he canât let himself kiss you, even when he wants to. âś contains: angst, fluff ᯠdrabble
THE HUNGER GAMES.
â
°. coming soon
MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.
â
°. coming soon
Š ACHERONSOCIETY, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#ŕŞââ´â masterlist#bts fanfic#the marauders fanfiction#the hunger games fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#greek mythology fanfiction
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âś BURNING, TRAITOROUS SUN

summary: they say the muses abandoned olympus. what they donât say is why. some claimed betrayal. others whispered that a god particularly feared their power more than any titan⌠but they didnât dieâthey ran. disguised in mortal skin, hiding from the gods they once inspired. now the primordials have built the veil, a trap dressed as a game, and three have been caught. hunted. suspected. desired by the ones who shouldâve protected them. and the games have only just begun.
MODT MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
pairing: apollo x f!reader ( thalia ) word count: 1975 content warning: angst âś mentions of blood, torture, daggers and lots of distrust a/n: this is the second drabble of the series "muses of drowned truths" and each god will be paired with a muse, so this means you will be assuming a muse form while reading ( hopefully you like them as much as me )!
đťđđ đđđđđ of the Veil were never silent. They pulsedâaliveâwith the murmurs of the damned, a chorus of misery threading like smoke through stone. But tonight, one sound split the gloom. A scream. Raw. Familiar.
Your breath hitched. You knew that voice.
Melpomene.
You pressed yourself to the cell wall, cheek brushing ice-cold stone as you strained to hear more. The scream fell into a whimper. Thenânothing. Silence like a held breath. Dread twisted in your gut. What have they done to you, Mel?
Footsteps broke the stillness, each one sharp, deliberate. You melted into the shadows, heart thudding against your ribs like a warning drum. A towering figure strode past your cellâHades. His face unreadable marble, but his fists were clenched and his eyes, oh gods, they burned. Straight toward the chamber Melpomene had been dragged to.
He knows. The thought sank in your chest like a stone in deep water. But does he know who she is?
Hades never looked twice at the Muses. But something in Mel always lured his wrath. And sheâwell, she was never one to back down either.
Before you could spiral, another sound stirred the still air. Footsteps againâlighter, smoother. They stopped. Right outside your cell.
The door creaked open. And there he was.
Even dimmed by the Veil, he radiated. Broad shoulders filling the space. Gold spun into hair that gleamed like tarnished sunlight. Youâd know that silhouette in any world.
Apollo.
"Zeus sent me," he said, voice honeyed silk with a frayed edgeâdanger hiding in velvet. "He believes I can extract the information we need without... unnecessary methods. If Athena keeps at it, not one of you will last much more here."
Your eyes narrowed, fury blooming in your chest like a poison flowerâbut under that, betrayal prickled. Your heart somersaulted. Mel had been tortured. The confirmation was a knife to the gut. âAnd what if I have nothing to say?"
A ghost of a smile played on his lipsâthose lips you used to dream of in secret. "Then we'll have to get creative."
He extended his hand. You didnât move. Stayed glued to the stone floor, trembling just enough that it made your pride hurt. Rage licked at the edges of your restraint, but grief choked it, thick and sour.
He didnât flinch at the rejection. Just crossed the room and knelt.
The golden god, divine and dreadful, sank to the cell floor without hesitation. His knees brushed yours. Electricity sparked in the air between your skin.
âItâs not safe to talk here,â he murmured, so close your breath caught. âCome with meâŚplease.â
You shouldâve spit in his face. Mel wouldâve. The you from before would have. But your body betrayed you. You rose. Let him take your wrist in his warm, god-forged grip. Light as silk. Firm as iron.
You hated that it felt like home.
Once, you had been his closest friend, his closest ally. And him, your sun-soaked secret. You remembered too well the curve of his throat, the shadow beneath his jaw, the way golden hair spilled over his lashes like a curtain hiding sins. And his lipsâthose damned lipsâalways curled into a smirk, always playing at truths you never dared to speak.
With a snap of his fingers, you were elsewhere and your mind back at the dangers before you.
The temple was ghosted in time. Ivy strangled marble columns. Fireflies bobbed like trapped stars. A cracked pool reflected the moonâs melancholy. It wouldâve been beautifulâif you werenât wondering whether youâd been led here to die.
âWhat is this place?â you asked, voice guarded, steps careful.
Apollo sparked flame to life with a flickâhis long fingers. Your traitorous fingers remembered them too.
âI needed a place the gods donât look anymore. This used to be the Temple of Liriope. Now itâs forgotten.â His eyes flicked over you, lingered too long, then darted away. âLike most sacred things.â
You hated that his voice could wrap around words like a spell. Like you were sacred.
You turned, pretending interest in the nearest column just to escape the weight of his gaze. Your thoughts darted like trapped birdsâwas this a trick? Were you still in the Veil?
Apollo was no butcher. But that didnât mean he was safe. Even the sun burns and eclipses. Maybe he was here to stab a knife to your back at Zeus' request.Â
You tensed when he stepped close behind youâcloser than he should. You felt the heat of his chest through your spine. Every hair on your body rose.
You tensed. Braced for pain as the fight was slowly sucked away from your veins.
But it wasnât a knife you felt. Instead, his breath grazed your ear.
âThereâs something here that might help you,â he said, voice pitched low, intimate. âThe glamour youâre wearingâitâs good. But not good enough. Athena's already suspicious. One more interrogation like Mel'sâŚâ
You flinched.
He saw. Of course he did. He always did.
He moved to face you, his hands hovering, hesitating like they remembered you but didnât dare touch. âThalia,â he whispered, voice cracking around your name. âI didnât know what they planned for her. I didnât.â
You shook your head, fighting past the surprise of hearing your name slip past his lips with such certainty. âBut you know what they planned for me.â
A breathless beat passed.
âIâm supposed to hurt you.â
The words felt surreal. Too cruel. Too soft. Suspended between your lips and his.
You stared at him. âAnd why didnât you already?â
âI canât,â he said, voice rough now, unraveled. His golden hair fell in front of those storm-lit eyes. âI wonât.â
Your hand twitched, traitorous again. You wanted to touch his face, to press your fingers into the golden halo of his hair and pull. Pull it like you have always wanted to but never did. As if closeness could erase centuries. As if desire could undo betrayal.
But you didnât move.
He looked at you like no glamour could hide you from him. Like he knew you. Down to the marrow.
For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.
Then you stepped back. Laughed. Bitter, brittle. âSo what now? You go back empty-handed? Zeus will love that.â
âNo.â His jaw clenched. âWe have to make it look like I did something. Bruises. Blood. Pain. Something Athena can smell and not question.â
You inhaled sharply. âAnd you want me to beg you to make it look real, is that it? Wowââ You spun, fury igniting like oil on fire. âDonât assume me so naive to not understand what youâre doing here, Apollo. A cruel joke is what this is. For me to beg for my own torture.â
You stepped into his space, your anger a shield, a blade, a crown. You mightâve been much shorter, but gods, you towered.
Apollo didnât flinch. Didnât blink. He drank it in.
His rich and sun-warm brown eyes didnât break away from yours. He stood still, a god gilded in restraint, letting your fury crash into him like a wave against stone. Any other god mightâve barked back, punished the audacity of your insolence. But not him. He just⌠took it. Silently. Like he deserved it.
For the moment, you were a burning star, and he had always been too fond of burning, you knew that.
âNo,â he said again, but softer now. His voice slipped into the quiet like a bruise blooming beneath skin. âI just want you to let me help.â
It wasnât pleading. It wasnât begging. It was broken. His eyes searched yoursâsomething wild and wounded flickering in their depthsâand then he turned, the golden weight of him retreating into the temple. He didnât check to see if youâd follow. Maybe he already knew.
You stepped inside Liriopeâs temple a heartbeat later.
There was no point in pretending youâd ever run from him. Youâd seen what waited in the Veil. And despite the simmering ache in your chest, you still felt safer near Apolloâs warmth than swallowed by that endless dark.
Even if you hated yourself for it.
He stood by the basin at the templeâs center, silver light pouring over him like it worshipped him. You watched the line of his throat move as he swallowed. His gaze dragged up your body like a hand, slow and unrepentant. Heat licked at the edges of your spine.
The glamour shimmered in the water, moonlight made liquid. Ancient magic stirred in the air, heavy with something old and hungry. Apollo cleared his throat, bending low beside it, and the fabric of his white loose shirt stretched over his back like a sin begging to be touched.
âThis will hide you better,â he said, voice taut. âIt will make your soul quieter to the gods. But thereâs a blood price for the one whoâll use itâŚâ
He looked up. And for once, the sun wasnât shining in his eyes. Just shadow. Just guilt.
âI canât do it. I canât hurt you.â
You snorted and shoved your hand forward. âSo Iâll do it. Give me a dagger, anything.â
He blinked, startledâlike youâd slapped him and he liked it. âThaliaââ
âUnless you think Iâm too fragile to bleed for myself.â
âNo,â he said, voice cracking on the edge of something unspoken. âI just⌠never mind.â
His jaw locked. His shoulders squared, tension rippling through him like a storm threatening to break. You watched the slow arc of his hand through the air, golden light curling around his fingers, folding inward until a dagger coalesced like fire summoned from a dream.
He held it like it hurt him.
His chest heaved, and his grip turned white-hot around the hilt. You reached for it, fingertips brushing the inside of his palmâwarm, calloused, trembling. But he didnât let go.
You yanked it from him anyway.
As you raised the blade to your arm, you saw him move. Pacing. Back turned. But his breathing was unevenâlike it pained him not to touch you. Each inhale a stutter. Each exhale laced with helplessness.
You bit down on your sleeve.
And dragged the dagger through your skin.
A vicious gash bloomed. Red spilled down your wrist, crimson and sacred. The glamour in the basin screamed to life, magic roaring through your veins like fire swallowing oxygen. You screamed tooâragged, rawâjust before the blade clattered to the floor.
You were falling.
But you never hit the ground.
Apollo caught you.
Warmth. Arms like iron wrapped in silk banded around your ribs, your waist. His voice pressed against your ear like a secret he shouldnât tell. âItâs ok, youâre going to be ok,â he whispered, rocking you gently, mouth grazing the shell of your ear. âItâs done, sweetheart. Youâre ok.â
You hated how sweet that word tasted coming from him.
His scentâsun-soaked cedar and late summer stormsâcoiled around your senses. Your eyelids fluttered. âDonât heal it,â you rasped, every word a fight. The magic was dragging you under, each heartbeat slower than the last.
His lips touched your temple, featherlight. A kiss or a farewellâyou werenât sure. He squeezed your side, too soft, too careful for a god of such intensity.
That touch⌠kept you tethered.
âWhy are you helping me?â you whispered, your voice a thread unraveling in the dark.
He paused.
Then his thumbâlight as a breathâbrushed beneath your breast, slow and reverent. You sucked in a gasp, your lungs trembling against the weight of his hand.
âBecause I remember who you are when youâre not pretending,â he said. His voice was low, almost broken. âAnd I donât want them to erase her.â
You turned your face toward him, just enough to meet his eyes.
The lie youâd been ready to spit at him dissolved on your tongue.
But you didnât say you trusted him.
And that silence?
That silence hurt him more than any dagger ever could.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#greek mythology#greek gods au#greek gods x reader#apollo#apollo x reader#apollo x you#apollo smut#x reader#muses of drowned truths
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âś BALLAD OF FIRE AND ASH

summary: they say the muses abandoned olympus. what they donât say is why. some claimed betrayal. others whispered that a god particularly feared their power more than any titan⌠but they didnât dieâthey ran. disguised in mortal skin, hiding from the gods they once inspired. now the primordials have built the veil, a trap dressed as a game, and three have been caught. hunted. suspected. desired by the ones who shouldâve protected them. and the games have only just begun.
MODT MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
pairing: hades x f!reader ( melpomene ) word count: 1370 content warning: angst âś almost smut âś basically hades and you fighting through teeth and... tongue? something like that. a/n: this is the first drabble of the series "muses of drowned truths" and each god will be paired with a muse, so this means you will be assuming a muse form while reading ( hopefully you like them as much as me )!
đťđđ đđđđ was made of obsidianâwalls smooth as oil, swallowing light. It matched him, really. All edges, no softness. The sort of place meant for interrogations, executions, or confessions ripped out with bloodied hands.
Fitting, you thought, that it was where you met him again.
He stood at the far end of the room like a curse spoken aloud.
Tallâimposingly soâhis shoulders broad beneath a fitted black tunic, the fabric stitched with subtle threads of silver that caught the low light like veins of lightning. Your eyes descended upon his back, falling to his cruelly lean waist, as if the gods had carved him for precision. For war.
"You should be careful," Hades said without looking at you, his voice a ribbon of dark velvet sliding over thorns. "Fire burns out fast in a cage."
Your laugh was a flame of sound. "Better to burn bright than rot in the dark. Or is that what you prefer, Lord of Shadows?"
He turned then, slow and deliberate, and gods, his gaze hit like the crack of a whip. Cold, calculating, and far too amused. The kind of look that made you want to slap himâor kiss him just to watch that smirk fall.
Your eyes set on the scar that ran from the arch of his left brow, slicing clean through his eye before it crook-turned and vanished at the edge of his sharp cheekbone.Â
How Hades had gotten it was still a mystery around Olympus, and you would have risked braving the Styx to unravel it. Instead, all the talk surrounding it was that the wound had made him more monstrous. You disagreed. If anything, it made him mythic.
"You mistake this for a cage," he said, snapping you out of your awful-timed thoughts. "This is a crucible. And youâ" He stepped closer, each movement measured and menacing. "You're melting."
Your breath hitched when he got close enough. You didnât back away, though. You wouldnât. You were tragedy incarnate, not some simpering nymph who wept at the storm.Â
Instead, you allowed yourself to brave the molten silver tempest that were his eyes. Not the delicate shimmer of moonlight, but the kind of molten that sears, that promises ruin. From a distance, they might pass for black. But up close, they gleamed like mercury set aflame. "You think you can break me?"
"No," Hades inched closer, his mouth brushing your ear. "I know I can."
A fire ignited through your chest at the sound of it. Fury and heat and a wanting so sharp it felt like grief. This wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was something more dangerousâa recognition. A mirror with jagged edges.
You shoved him hard, palms against his chest, pushing him into the obsidian wall. âTry it then,â you hissed. âLetâs see who shatters first.â
He caught your wristâlightning-fastâand twisted, not cruelly, but with purpose. You panted as your body followed, spun until your back was to the wall and he was a breath away, pinning you there like a dagger. One of his hands still held your wrist, the other hovered at your waist, just close enough to feel the heat of it through the thin dress you were forced to wear once you were captured.
Your voice came low, raw. âIs this how you get your answers, Lord Hades? Cornering girls with gods in their blood and fury in their throats?â
He tilted his head, studying you like a predator might a storm. âI donât need answers,â he murmured. âI already know who you are.â
Your heart stuttered.
âYou hide it well,â he continued, voice soft as sin. âBut your soul sings. Even here. Especially here.â
Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as one of his hands fisted your hair, forcing your neck bare to him. He was too close. His scentâpomegranate, smoke, something old and earthenâwas curling around your ribs like ivy. You hated him. You loathed him. And you wanted to taste him like you wanted to scream.
"Let me go," you whispered. Hades came to his full height then, eyeing you through long lashes. His hair, as dark as ink, was carelessly tousled, a chaos that shouldn't have worked on someone so composedâbut it did. Gods, it did.
He leaned closer again, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, stopping just short of your mouth. "Say it like you mean it."
You cursed him then, softly, fiercely, in the ancient tongue of Olympus. And then you kissed him.
Or maybe he kissed you. You didnât know who moved firstâonly that when your mouths met, it was war. Teeth and tongues, challenge and surrender. Your hand twisted into his hair and you moaned. It was so much softer than it looked. His fingers dug into your waist in response, pressing you closer like he needed to feel every piece of you to believe this was real.
It wasn't tender. It was violent. Like something sacred had been cracked open. Like grief and rage and centuries of silence had exploded into a single, breathless moment.
Hades's hands explored you like theyâd done it a hundred times in secret dreams. Sliding low, purposeful, greedyâuntil they curved around your ass, squeezing, grounding you against the unforgiving line of his body. He pressed into you like punishment, like a promise. Hard, solid, cruel in the way that made your bones sing.
You arched into him with a sound you didnât recognize as your ownâhalf-moan, half-challenge. Fever took your blood then. You felt reckless. Wild. Your thoughts, a blur of heat and him and the danger of wanting something this much.
His mouth, that along the way went to the soft curve of your collarbone, crashed into yours again, teeth grazing, tongue slick and hot. You kissed him back like you hated him for making you feel this, and maybe you did. But gods, you wanted more.
You lifted one leg, hooking it around his waist, needing him closer. Needing to feel how far gone he was. The almighty King of the Underworld groaned into your mouth as you did so, low and guttural, hips grinding into yours with a precision that left no room for misunderstanding.
Then you felt itâthick, hard, straining through his clothes. Your breath hitched. A gasp against his lips.
Your fingers curled into his shoulder, nails digging in deep. And even though your lower belly recoiled in pleasure, the rest of you quieted. That stopped him. For a moment, everything stilledâfrozen in the gravity of what would come next. You could feel it spiraling, dangerous and inevitable.
He pulled back just far enough to look at you, eyes like spilled mercury unreadable.
âTell me to stop,â he said, voice wrecked, rough around the edges.
You blinked, and then the fog in your mind cleared. Your skin refused to subside its feverish state, but you lowered your leg slowly. You didnât know what was the biggest tragedyâhaving lost your mind or having it read so well by fucking Hades.Â
And then it was over.
You pulled back first, chest heaving. Your lips were red, swollen, and tremblingânot from fear. From rage. From longing. From knowing this was a mistake and craving more anyway.
âThis changes nothing,â you snapped.
Hades, maddeningly calm, ran his thumb along his bottom lip. âNo, Melpomene,â he said. âIt changes everything.â
He stepped back, letting you go like youâd burned him. Or maybe like heâd burned himself. The space he left behind felt colder than the dark.
The Lord of Shadows stepped out of the room with such a roaring bang to the iron gate enclosing you inside that it sent your back sliding down the obsidian wall behind you.Â
Hearing your name escape his lips with such certainty was an arrow straight to the throat, one you had never seen coming.
Hades was one of the most powerful gods, if not the most. He knew for certain you were a Muse. He was never one to be fooled with glamours; you knew that. But which one⌠How could he have known it was you?
You didnât move. Couldnât. Your heart beat like a war drum, and in your ears, you heard a whisperânot your voice, not his, but something older, deeper.
He is shadow and silence. You are fire and fury. Together, you are ruin.
And ruin, you thought, had never tasted so sweet.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY / 2025, all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
#greek mythology#greek gods#hades#hades x reader#hades smut#enemies to lovers#apollo x reader#apollo smut#hades angst#x reader#greek gods smut#greek gods x reader#greek gods au#melpomene#the muses#muses of drowned truths
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ââââââ GUIDELINES.Â
â´ď¸ I will not write requests sent to multiple writers at once*.
â´ď¸ do not send me the same request twice.
â´ď¸ you can be as specific or unspecific as you like, just please note that the less specific you are, the more freedom is given to me.
â´ď¸ I am at your service, but I do reserve the right to refuse an idea or parts of it.
â´ď¸ if I donât feel comfortable with what you asked me to write, I will delete the request without necessarily providing you with a justification.
â´ď¸ I tend to write the reader as a female and she/her pronouns.
â´ď¸ for now I'm accepting requests for drabbles and moodboards only.
đˇđş ! failing to respect these rules will result in the deletion of the ask. Â
ââââââ FOOTNOTE.
â if you feel your request is taking a while and, therefore, you decide to send it to another writer, no worries. I would appreciate it if you could give me a heads-up though.
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ââââââ WRITING LIST.
â´ď¸ before requesting, make sure you have read my guidelines.
⤠greek mythology ⤠bts ⤠the marauders ⤠the hunger games ⤠marvel cinematic universe
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ODESSA â´ď¸ she/her. gemini. german.
â đđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđđđđđ đđ đ đ
đđđđ. â
ââ TABLE OF CONTENTS ;
đđđđđđđ, the masterlist.
đđđđ, the writing list.
đđđđđ, the guidelines.
Š ACHERONSOCIETY, all rights reserved.
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