#step-sibling au
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Trust Him Like a Brother Chapter 2 Update!
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Lily Potter and Molly Weasley.
Harry is just hoping he can get through the entire day without his new family realizing he has been sleeping with very soon-to-be step sister. Unfortunately, Ginny never makes anything easy for him.
Read on AO3 here. Read the first chapter on AO3 here or on tumblr here
this chapter was lightly inspired by the song Dress by my girl Taylor Swift
#harry x ginny#ginny weasley#hinny#harry potter#fanfiction#trust him like a brother#step-sibling au#happy saturday morning its time to read smut!
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Hi! I recently read Patchwork Heart (like twice in two days) and I now have brainrot from that fic. (Which is to say that I loved it.) And I’m sad that it’s incomplete but I’m grateful that you wrote it, and all your other Parks and Rec fics. I remember reading a comment from you (from like 11 years ago lol) where you said you’d been writing for 14 years and you encouraged someone who was feeling bad about their own writing. Which gave me the motivation to keep writing, and made me think, how awesome must it be to be a fanfic writer for so long? This is a rambly comment to say that I’m glad you’re still writing (even if it’s not for Parks heh) and you’re a great inspiration!
(Also I’m aware this isn’t a question but I don’t really know how Tumblr works)
Well this ask officially made my year. (P.S. - Asks don't have to be questions. Especially when they're as lovely as this)
You know every once in a while I think, am I being totally ridiculous just leaving my live journal out there like that? Really, who's going out and reading stuff from over 11 years ago, except ... yeah I've totally done that myself. And I'm forever grateful for the authors who let their stuff just float along and exist. So I'm gratified to know that I did that for you today. And extremely gratified to know that I was able to give you a little motivation to keep writing. I have been doing this for over twenty years with varying levels of success and intensity as my life evolves, but I keep coming back to it, because really at the end of the day, fanfic is one of those hobbies that more than anything make me feel like me. When you find that, you owe it to yourself to hold onto it. Even if you can't do it perfectly or quickly.
I am not going to lie, I'm very sad Patchwork Heart is incomplete as well. That was an unfortunate product of life circumstances overwhelming me and by the time I paddled my way to the surface my emotional relationship with Parks had changed. But I am forever in love with the complete human disaster that was teenage Ben Wyatt in that fic.
Sooooo this isn't much, but this ask made me go back through my google docs. Here have part of a camping trip:
Griggs-Knope-Wyatt (Whatever) Family Vacation
Hell – 375-369 days to go
Yeah, it’s official, Ben does not get camping.
At all.
Look he gave it a fair try. But he just- he doesn’t get it all right. He doesn’t get what’s so fun about sleeping on the floor (”Ground,” Marlene informs him, “It’s called a ground when it’s outside, dear.") or getting so many mosquito bites, or having to make sure your food is put up in a certain way so raccoons won’t get to it. And you know what he really doesn’t get?
Ghost stories.
He does not get ghost stories. They’re not scary. They’re particularly not scary if your dad is telling them. And when your step-mom takes over and does manage to tell a scary one, well then you’re outside, in the dark . . . scared.
Oh and his tent collapses on him in the middle of the night.
Yup, okay. Not. Having. Fun.
Ben just wishes he could convince himself that’s actually because of the camping.
Leslie’s been withdrawn and subdued for the past two days. Not angry, just quiet. He tried to talk to her yesterday morning like a dozen times, but the one time he got anywhere the fact he was trying to take the whole thing seriously only seemed to make it all worse.
He doesn’t know what to do for her. Has the sneaking suspicion there’s actually nothing he can do. Or at least nothing he’s willing to do.
So yeah, maybe he’s going to just lie here under the wreckage of what used to be his tent for a little while.
Except he can’t even seem to manage that, because the next thing he knows there’s the sound of footsteps and a flashlight is being shined into his eyes like an interrogation lamp.
“Benjamin?”
Ben holds up a hand to shield his eyes and squints up at the outline of his step-mother standing over him. “Umm, hi?”
“Benjamin dear. Your tent’s on the ground,” she informs him as though she’s not entirely sure he’s aware of this fact. Sometimes he’s pretty sure his step-mother thinks he’s an idiot.
“Yeah, so umm, funny story about that. You know what it was, it- it fell.”
The fact he always winds up saying stuff like that around her probably doesn’t help.
Marlene doesn’t respond for long moment, and even though he can’t see her face he can pretty much picture it. It’s a face he’s pretty familiar with. The one that says ‘I worry about your ability to dress yourself in the mornings’.
“I don’t- I’ve never really camped,” he continues, unable to help himself. Marlene’s silences are just about the most effective interrogation technique he’s ever encountered. No wonder Leslie’s usually so talkative.
“I never would have guessed,” she shoots back, before adding, “Well, should I just leave the two of you alone or would you like some help putting it back up?”
“No- no, help would be good.”
There’s a long pause, then: “Ben, dear.”
“Yeah?”
“You need to get out of the tent.”
“Oh. Right.”
---
So in a surprising turn of events (at least in his opinion), Marlene actually turns out to be a pretty good teacher. Like okay she isn’t the most patient person in the world, but she’s incredibly precise in her explanations of how to do things like tie a hitch-knot, and Ben’s always been more comfortable with precision over intuition, so it doesn’t take him too terribly long to catch on, and when she pats him lightly on the knee in approval, it feels like getting an A in your most demanding class from the teacher who scares the shit out of you.
All in all, Ben’s feeling kind of good about things by the time they get the tent back up, so when Marlene points out that it’s only an hour or so until sunrise and asks whether he wants to help her make coffee for breakfast, he says yes, thinking maybe things are looking up.
Yeah, no, that was obviously just designed to lull him into a false sense of security.
“So,” Marlene opens without warning or preamble, “Leslie tells me I’m returning the Purdue sweatshirt.”
He barely manages not to tip over his cup of coffee. “Yeah, um, sorry about that.”
“Ben didn’t we talk about that? Um-”
“Is the sound in dumb. Yeah I know.”
The look she gives him could level small countries. Ben keeps his head down and tries not to have an aneurysm.
How does he get himself into these situations? Really why is it sarcastic, smart-aleck things always come out of his mouth at exactly the wrong time. It’s not like he’s trying to be a wise-ass. He’s not really trying to be anything really. (Except maybe invisible. Invisible would be nice right now.) But for some reason it happens anyway, and he can’t seem to stop it. It’s like this leak, this crack in his personality. Ninety-five percent of the time he manages to be exactly the kind of guy he should be, the kind he thinks Virginia Wyatt would have wanted him to be. The kind of son his perpetually fragile father seems to need. Quiet and polite and respectful. But every once in awhile the pressure of keeping everything else in just gets to be too much and these little drops of acid seep through, landing where they’re not wanted and scarring once they’re there.
Except Marlene Griggs-Knope doesn’t scar that easily.
“Oh, sit up straight. Really, Ben if you keep going through life acting like a spineless jellyfish, it won’t just be Leslie who treats you like one.”
“I don’t.” he mutters under his breath.
Only he says it to the picnic table so that probably undermines his whole protest. He forces himself to sit up and look Marlene in the eye (Okay, it’s more like her forehead, but come on, cut him a little slack here. Do you want to look Marlene in the eye? Yeah, that’s what he thought. Shut up.</i>)
“Leslie doesn’t-”
But he can’t make himself complete the thought, because . . . yeah, sometimes she kind of does. And, shit, it’s Leslie’s mom, and Marlene’s giving him this look that clearly says ‘don’t bullshit me about my own daughter.’ Still, Leslie treats everyone like that, at least everyone important to her. Ann gets, like, twenty-three instructions a day. And, well, he likes it. It’s been a really long time since anyone paid that much attention to anything he did. It’s how he knows he’s important, that she cares. If she ever stopped trying to micromanage his life, well then he’d just be another ordinary person on the outside, wouldn’t he?
He opens his mouth to try again, but Marlene waves his efforts away with a dismissive hand. Oh good, apparently he’s now already used up whatever small amount patience she had allotted for him today, and it’s only, what? Five-thirty in the morning? This is probably some kind of new record for him.
Yaaaay . . .
At that moment from across the campsite, Leslie unzips her tent and steps out into the new dawn, only to freeze, eyes going wide, at the obviously unexpected sight of Ben sitting at the picnic table with her mother.
He tries to remember enough Morse code to blink her a S.O.S.
And any other morning it wouldn’t matter that he’s pretty sure he just looks like he’s having an epileptic fit, Leslie would have already come over and rescued him.
Instead she just turns back around, grabs her towel and a bar soap out of the tent and trudges off to the shower facilities, leaving him alone with Marlene to fend for himself.
Okay, Leslie is officially really upset.
“She will get over it.”
At Marlene’s observation, Ben whips his head back around only to find himself pinned by his step-mother’s sharp assessing gaze.
It feels like all the oxygen just got sucked out of the . . . well, earth.
He opens his mouth to stammer out a disclaimer but only manages a strangled kind of gurgle, which Marlene, thankfully, ignores.
“Leslie is no stranger to disappointment. She’s a very resilient girl. Always has been.” She says it matter-of-factly and maybe even a little proudly, then immediately counterbalances it with a sigh of exasperation. “Realism, however, is unfortunately not your step-sister’s strong suit. Particularly when it comes to people.”
Ben just presses his lips together and fiddles a little with his coffee cup, drumming his fingernails against the metal. He’s not really sure why Marlene’s telling him all this. Not that any of it is exactly revelation. To know anything about Leslie is to know she puts too much faith in life in general and people in particular.
So no it’s not like he doesn’t realize Leslie’s been disappointed by people before—her father, Lindsay . . . And then suddenly it clicks with him, the why behind all of this.
People leave.
In Leslie’s world, people leave her.
For some reason he’s never thought about it before, about her history and the painful lessons life’s given her. After all, he’s the one with the dead mother, the great tragedy that defined his entire fucking existence before he met her; that he wears like a poorly healed scar on his personality. Leslie always seemed so untouched by comparison.
But she’s not. He can see that now.
Because yeah, maybe his mother was ripped out his life.
But people walk out of hers.
By their own choice.
Of their own free will.
Ben drops his head to stare down at the film that’s started to form on his rapidly cooling coffee in shame as he realizes he’s been making plans to join them, to go off to college and then conscientiously extricate himself from her life, little by little, bit by bit, until he’s down to a subsistence diet. To the bare-essentials of what he needs to survive. Never once thinking about Leslie’s needs.
God, he is such an ass.
Marlene who has been silent for a little while, gets up to pour herself another cup of coffee, before coming over to sit back down and drop another bombshell on him. “You know, sometimes I wonder if your father and I should have waited until after the two of you went to college to get married.”
Oh god. He feels a cold finger of dread crawl its way down his spine at her words, and suddenly all he can think is: She knows. She knows how he feels about her daughter, and he’s going to die. Up here in all this outdoors, Marlene probably knows a dozen ways to kill him and make it look like an accident. Maybe that’s why they’re camping in the first place. Maybe this was her plan all along . . .
It’s about this time that the rest of what Marlene’s saying starts to sink in. “—it’s not that we’re not happy you two get along so well. After all, that’s the whole reason we decided to get married when we did. Give all of us the chance to try to be a family. But--” she purses her lips, and narrows her eyes, “Maybe we were a little too successful?”
And the terror’s back. “Too successful?”
“Up until two days ago, all Leslie ever talked about was going to IU and being close to home. She’s already learned the fight song.” That makes him almost smile despite himself, because of course she has. He bites the inside of his mouth just in time to stop it. Marlene continues. “And your father tells me you’ve been collecting brochures for out of state schools ever since the two of you moved to Indiana. But suddenly here I am buying sweatshirts for Purdue.”
“I didn’t ask-”
Marlen waves his protest away. “Of course you didn’t.” Then in a seeming nonsequitor: “Did you know Ann Perkins did Model UN all last year?”
-----
When I get a little more time I'll try to bullet point out for you where I was going.
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no new art rn,,, have an old ref i made for my coraline au that i never posted
#this was made in like august#you can tell it’s old LMAO#nari’s art#coraline au#🕷️🌀 au#cream the rabbit#sonic the hedgehog#sth#cream was supposed to be Coraline obv#tails was wybie#anddd vanilla + vector were the parents#had an idea where charmy and espio would be the step siblings n it was driving cream crazy#i really need to get back to this au
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ToyBox Shamura- My love- My beloved- My favorite little plaything- My sad little worrybox, My little broken record-
WE FINALLY GET A GLIMPSE OF TOYBOX SOZO!! YIIPPEEEE-
It shouldn’t come to a surprise that Shamura has dreams of Sozo, but they can’t remember what he looks like. They only remember his touch- (Tb! Mura is VERY touch starved- They will melt at any touch they receive-)
They can hear his voice, see his body, feel his hands all over them.. but his face is always hidden. Always shattered, broken. Like theirs. They love him- but why-?
I know I said we’d get some TB! Leshy- but I already got an art block on the song I picked- so I’m gonna fix it up and see what I can do 🫡 TRUST-
#bloo’s art :)#ToyBox AU#cotl#cult of the lamb#cotl au#cotl shamura#cotl sozo#CREDIT TO MY OOMFIE BORGOR FOR THE ENDEARMENT- I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO PUT BAHAHAHAHHA-#Using our rp to help my posts one step at a time 🫡#sozura#They’re so sad- and silly#and sad-#erm#did I mention sad?#Shamura daydreams a lot btw#with that thousand yard stare of theirs it’s very easy to#but at the same time a coping mechanism#cause they’re always in pain- they need a way to conceal it#Their siblings had to get used to asking Shamura questions to bring them back to the present#Yeah-#I love them a lot#I’m so sorry Sozo#the marriage has to waitttt
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Am i allowed to ask why isekieran au's florian is in a wheelchair? Is he paralyzed or is his leg just broken,Did terapagos aim a tera starstorm at his face and miraidon/koraidon was too slow to react? Im just curious, i also wonder how kieran would react once he sees florian again and hears the story
ohhhhhh you people are not ready for the candyappleshipping lore that lives in my head. Okay Florian has been using a wheelchair since pre-teal mask!! He has a spinal injury, and also he just woke up from like a several year long coma


long story short Juliana had her own reasons for wanting to find the herba mystica
#Mine#My art#Asks#Arven#Juliana#Florian#Juliana and Florian are step siblings in my convoluted version of pokemon Canon#Isekerian au#So like when Kieran and Florian first met Florian was not using a wheelchair but they first met LONG before even base game scarvi also#getting too into it
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#milfyuri
#knd#codename: kids next door#kids next door#numbuh 86#fanny fulbright#numbuh 2#hoagie gilligan#betty gilligan#Fanny’s mother#milfyuri#step siblings au#since we know basically nothing about Fanny’s mother we can have as many indulgent headcanons we’d like#and my indulgent headcanon is that she’d stick up for hoagie against his grandma#march 2025
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Training Wheels - Extra
Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader
Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes.
Warnings: Language, Dark Themes, Age Gap, Angst, Kinda Fluff,
Word Count: >1K
A/n: I wrote this forever ago but never posted it so here’s a little extra piece for training wheels. The first parts can be found below. I’ve got two other things queued up to be posted that I might just fire off right away for shits and gigs but who knows!
Part One Part Two Part Three
!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
~*~
The line rings for a moment before connecting, a heavy breath filling the silence before- “Hi, Bunny.”
Your insides melt, bottom lip wobbling as you look through the thick glass to those endless blue eyes that you’ve fallen in love with.
“Hi, Steve.”
He smiles softly, his eyes devouring your features.
You haven’t changed at all since he last saw you.
Well, you look more tired, and your face is the tiniest bit rounder, but other than that you’re the same. And just as beautiful as ever.
“How’re you doing, sweet girl?”
You swallow hard, fighting tears as you sigh.
“I’m okay. I... I miss you.”
He nods, knowing the feeling all too well.
“I miss you too, honey. But I’ll be out soon, okay?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip for a moment.
“My mom doesn’t want me to come visit you anymore, says you’re dangerous. I tried convincing her but she doesn’t wanna hear it. Your dad drove me here though, he said he’s glad you have me.” Your eyes stay trained on his, sadness filling them.
“I miss you,” you repeat, tears filling your eyes.
He sighs, placing his hand against the thick glass separating the two of you. You lift your own hand, squeezing your eyes shut and wishing you could feel his warmth.
“Hey, look at me, Bunny.”
It takes you a moment, but you do, your eyes meeting his.
“I’m gonna be out of here soon, pretty girl. Then we’ll be back together again. I’ll build us a nice house and your mom won’t have any say in it, okay?”
You nod, taking a deep breath.
“I-” A hand falls on your shoulder and you jump, turning to look at the person.
“Time to go, girly.”
You grind your teeth but nod at the security guard, turning back to look at Steve.
“I love you, Steve,” you whisper into the phone.
His eyes soften and he gives you a soft smile.
“I love you too, Bunny.”
You hang up, eyes lingering on his for a moment longer before you’re being ushered out of the building.
~*~
You shut the door to your apartment with a sigh.
It’s been a long day.
You peel off your shoes then head towards the couch, freezing in your tracks when you see a figure standing by the TV.
“Hey, Bunny.”
Your heart races in your chest, throat constricting and hand fluttering down to your stomach.
Steve.
He turns to you with a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I thought you weren’t getting out for another six months!” You exclaim softly.
“Got out early. Of course, I would’ve told you that, but you stopped coming to see me.” His eyes get dark, borderline hostile, and you swallow hard.
“I... Mom kicked me out when I tried to see you. When... when she found out. Bucky and Nat helped me find this place and I've been trying to save up money for when you got out.”
His brows pull together and he takes a step towards you slowly, not wanting to scare you after all this time.
“Honey, you didn’t need to stop coming when she kicked you out.”
You sniffle, a stray tear sliding down your face.
You did.
He couldn’t find out. Not while in prison. He would’ve fought tooth and nail to get out and that would’ve only kept him from you for longer.
“I... Steve I...”
His eyes devour your figure, zeroing in on where your hand is protectively on your belly.
“Bunny...” His eyes flash up to your face then back down to your bump.
You only nod.
“You... is that why you stopped coming? Why your mom really kicked you out?”
You nod again, sniffling and scrubbing a tear off of your cheek.
“I-I didn’t wanna tell you ‘till you got out. But...”
He’s got you in his arms in the next second, lips pressed against your forehead as he whispers soft little words of reassurance.
“It’s gonna be okay, Bunny, I promise. M’gonna take care of you and our little one in here.”
He pulls back a bit, eyes on your protruding belly.
“You look so pretty like this, Bunny. All nice and knocked up. Got my baby growing inside you. Can't wait for you to have my baby, Bunny. Then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”
You whine, tilting your head back to look up at him, and he finally, finally, closes the distance.
His lips find yours after seven months of no contact.
Seven long, torturous months.
But now you’re here in his arms and he’s here in yours.
He’s not letting you go. Not again.
#Steve Rogers x reader#dark!Steve Rogers x reader#step brother au#step siblings au#Steve Rogers x reader dark fic#w:dark fic#dark fic#Steve x reader dark au#stepbrother!Steve x reader#training wheels#nastybuckybarnes
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First Kiss
Stepsister!Wanda x Reader (Teen AU)
High school. It’s rough for you. On the downside, you have to deal with grades, social circles and the constant reminder of the crushing loneliness that first love creates. But on the bright side, you got an amazing stepdad Django Maximoff, and a cute and quirky stepsister Wanda Maximoff.
It was just after home room. You were feeling happy as could be. Your plan was to ask out Carol Danvers, Captain of the school’s volleyball team. You had practiced in the mirror and even asked Django for advice. He was more than happy to oblige.
You walked to your second period class with a pep in your step. You sat next to her and you seemed to have a good vibe between you and her. And then you turned the corner and stopped dead in your tracks.
Carol was standing there she was kissing James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes and then she turned and kissed Valkyrie.
“Bye babes” she said with a wink. Your heart shattered. Luckily she didn’t notice you. Or maybe it was unlucky. You didn’t know. Your head was spinning.
“Y/N!” Wanda called out to you with a smile. She didn’t quite grasp what was wrong with you. She gave you a gentle shake. “You okay?”
“I-I don’t know” you just walked into class and sat down wordlessly next to Carol. And for the first time, you didn’t care.
The rest of the school day was a blur. You went from school to your own bedroom in an almost zombie like state. You felt absolutely alone and helpless. Your high school crush had a girlfriend…and a boyfriend.
You just curled up on your bed and just buried your head in your pillow in sheer embarrassment. You felt as embarrassed as the numerous times that you found yourself staring just a little too long at your step sister. In truth, Wanda was the one you truly loved.
Her kindness, her humor, her beauty, everything about her drove you crazy with love. But she was your step sister. You had hoped that if you focused on another girl your age, maybe you’d somehow focus your affections on her rather than Wanda.
But even that didn’t work because the only other girl you liked was part of a throuple.
You just buried your head in your pillow and grunted in embarrassment. And then came a soft knock at your door.
“Go away” you mumbled. “Nursing a broken heart in here”
“You sound like a dying moose” Wanda spoke up from behind the door. You couldn’t help but smile.
Wanda entered a second later with a cup of tea for you. “You okay, Y/N?”
“I don’t know if you saw it but Carol…she’s uhh…”
“I saw that…” Wanda huffed, “she can’t really make up her mind. Just pick one and be faithful”
“I’m never gonna find love” you mumbled before taking a sip.
“I’m sure Pietro would tell you the same.” She giggled.
“How’s your mom and Pietro doing?” You inquired.
“Malibu’s fine for them. I miss my bratok tho” she sighed. “But I know Pietro would love hanging out with you.”
“Life’s weird, Wanda.” You stated Esther pitifully. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet”
“Neither have I” she smirked, “although few have tried. No one can conquer the witch!”
Wanda throws her hands in the air and faked conjuring up some kind of magic. You couldn’t help but laugh. And then she laughed along with you. It just felt right being there with her.
You stared at her. She stared at you. A small blush made its way across her face.
“Y-you know,” she gently moved a stray strand of hair away from her face, “what if we…oh forget it”
“What?”
“What if we were..each other’s first kiss?” She found herself trying to hide her embarrassed face.
“Really?” You asked.
“Y-yeah. I want my first kiss to be with someone I trust. And I trust you” she explained.
“O-okay” you managed to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
The two of you just looked at each other for a split second before you broke the silence, “do you want me to lean in or-?”
“I-I’ll lean in” Wanda chimed in. She let out a nervous giggle before she leaned in.
You found yourself leaning in and then it happened. Your lips touched hers. So soft. So tender. The faint scent of strawberries permeated her skin. You could feel a sense of warmth and love take over your entire body.
Wanda pulled back. How you just wanted to take a hold of her and kiss her again. You could kiss her countless times and you sweared it would never be enough.
“That was…” she blushed, “wow”
“Y-yeah” you giggled. “T-thank you”
“What are step siblings for?” She smiled and turned to leave. “I’ll see you for dinner”
And with that she turned and left. You collapsed against your bed in an absolute state of bliss.
Years later your now wife Wanda told you that she did the exact same thing too.
Tags: @lifespectator @ma1egamer @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @konstantin609 @revanshand @russianredassassin @scarletquake-n7 @supercorpdanbeau @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @jacenradio7
#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#marvel incorrect quotes#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff imagine#step sister#step siblings#stepsister Wanda#scarlet witch#high school#high school au
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I just read a fanfic where Sun Wukong got DBK & PIF to be better parents through the power of revoking their son privileges and honestly I’m kind of tempted to make my own spin on that solely for the fact of me getting that wholesome Uncle nephew relationship between Wukong & Red Son I so desperately crave
also Wukong and Macaque only getting along just so they can be there for their nephew is just fucking amazing like their nephew needs help and they’re going to get along to give it to him also Red son would give them an incentive to get their shit together and work on their issues, so shadowpeach anyone?
#uncle sun wukong#nephew red son#sun wukong and demon bull king are siblings#six eared macaque and princess iron fan are siblings#uncle six eared macaque#no idea what I would call this AU probably something stupid though#the uncles that stepped up AU#:3#canvas posted today#canvas rambling again#lmk sun wukong#lmk macaque#lmk red son#shadowpeach adopt red sun then get therapy#they’re gonna do everything in their power to make it the best environment for him#yes wukong 100% built an underground base just so red sun can fuck with electronics#canvas can’t stop making aus#lmk au#lego monkie kid#lmk
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~ WE'RE FAMILY NOW ~ BLENDED/STEP FAMILY PROMPTS
requested by: @boredom-juvenilefiction & @zzzhoonie requests: could you do some prompts for a blended family?; you’re so cool 😭😭😭🫶🏼 by any chance do you have any ideas for step family relationships between new siblings? like them trying to bond or put up with each other? prompts or dialogue would be most helpful TT
Feel free to use and reblog!
having clashing daily routines so they have to figure out compromises
they need a room where they can be for themselves now more than ever
their step family members come to care for them more than most of their blood relatives do
new topics of conversation come up during family dinner
they finally have someone on their side as a new family member surprisingly shares the same opinion on a matter they have always been alone on
a bigger family means it's easier to hide
they finally have someone their age at home which turns out to be a lot of fun
they suddenly have to share everything with people that are basically strangers. gross
since they're living with their new step family, clothes are somehow disappearing from their closet. now they're waiting to catch the thief red-handed
since the family has been extended, they're doing a lot more family activities for 'bonding' but it's actually turning out fun
even though they're not their blood, they would defend them with their life
it's nice to know that someone who isn't blood-related would give their life for you
it's called family because you're sharing everything, not because we're from the same bloodline
it's a blessing and a curse to be part of a blended family
the blended family is so big that it's always confusing outsiders who try to understand the relations
#blended family prompts#step family prompts#step siblings prompts#blended family au#step family au#writing prompts#prompt list#otp prompts#prompts#writing inspiration#writing ideas#writers on tumblr#writeblr#otp#fluff prompts#scenario prompts#setting prompts#15 prompts
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spoiled (스포일드) — kim seokjin (김석진)
part two can be found here

✧.* 18+
money was the silent orchestrator of the world, an unseen force that dictated the rhythm of life, the rise and fall of empires, the ebb and flow of fortunes. it was a creator and a destroyer, a source of power and a symbol of ambition. the inheritance of wealth could mold a person in myriad ways, breeding either foolish heirs who squandered their legacy or brilliant minds who elevated it. you were among the fortunate ones, born into affluence, but you were no fool.
your mother, a luminary in the fashion industry, had built an empire with her own hands. her name was synonymous with elegance and innovation, and her company was a testament to her relentless drive. you inherited not only her stunning beauty but also her formidable intellect. gorgeous, stunning—you were the epitome of grace and allure, turning heads wherever you went. yet, beneath that captivating exterior lay a mind sharper than any blade. you were the top of your class, the one whose name was always at the pinnacle of academic achievements. fluent in four languages, you navigated conversations with a fluidity that left others in awe. a scholarship awaited you, a testament to your hard work and brilliance, promising a future as bright as your past.
but intelligence and beauty weren't your only traits. there was a darker side to you, a part that thrived on power and control. you were mean, perhaps even rotten to your core, wielding your sharp wit and cutting remarks with a precision that left others reeling. it wasn't enough to be the best; you had to ensure everyone knew it, had to see the fear and admiration in their eyes. you relished in the power, in the way others bowed to your will, and it fed a part of you that nothing else could satisfy.
the grand estate was bathed in the golden hues of the late afternoon sun, its light filtering through the crystal chandeliers and casting intricate patterns on the polished marble floors. the opulence of the room was undeniable, from the sumptuous velvet drapes framing the expansive windows to the luxurious silk cushions adorning the elegant settee. the air was suffused with the delicate scent of blooming orchids and the heady fragrance of high-end perfume.
you glided through the hallways with the poise of someone accustomed to navigating both luxury and expectation, your steps silent on the plush carpet. you approached your mother’s sitting room, a space as meticulously curated as her latest fashion line. there, amidst a clutter of fabric swatches and sketchbooks, sat your mother—an embodiment of grace and precision. she was engrossed in her work, her slender fingers expertly tracing designs on a sketchpad.
“mother, what do you mean you’re getting married?” your voice was a blend of disbelief and irritation, piercing through the serene atmosphere of the room. she looked up momentarily, her gaze cool and dismissive. “you’re the only person making a big deal out of this, (y/n). have some respect. focus on your own engagement instead of mine.”
the mention of your engagement to kim taehyung—a union orchestrated purely for the benefit of your families’ business interests—sent a wave of frustration through you. it was a marriage neither of you had desired, yet it loomed over both your lives like a specter. “you have no shame, do you?” you couldn’t help but ask, the words escaping through gritted teeth. her eyes, sharp and unfeeling, met yours with a chilling calm. “while you’re at it, find a dress to wear for tonight. you’ll finally meet your step-brother in person.”
the term “step-brother” felt like a sharp jab. kim seokjin—whom you had long despised—was a man as ruthless as you were, a counterpart in cruelty. his reputation for being merciless and calculating was matched only by your own, and the thought of him entering your already complicated life was a bitter pill to swallow. you stared at your mother, her attention already drifting back to her sketches, and felt a mix of rage and resignation. that was your life—an intricate tapestry of beauty, wealth, and intelligence, all entwined with the demands and manipulations of those who wielded power without a thought for your personal happiness.
in the opulent confines of your dressing room, you moved with practiced ease among the racks of high-end garments. the room was a haven of luxury, with walls lined in elegant silk and shelves overflowing with an array of couture dresses. you sifted through the exquisite fabrics, your fingers grazing the soft silk and intricate lace as you searched for something suitable.
your mother’s voice, though distant, was still audible, her sharp instructions hanging in the air like an unwelcome perfume. “and don’t forget to accessorize properly. it’s important that you look presentable.” you rolled your eyes, dismissing her instructions with a wave of your hand as if to shoo away an irritating fly. your gaze landed on a stunning, midnight blue dress—a floor-length creation of silk and satin that flowed like liquid night. it was the perfect blend of sophistication and understated elegance, its deep hue accentuating your striking features. you slipped it on, the fabric hugging your figure with a sensual grace.
just as you were adjusting the dress, the shrill ring of your phone pierced through the ambiance of the room. glancing at the screen, you saw taehyung’s photo staring back at you, his image frozen in a charming, if somewhat distant, smile. you answered with a scoff, the irritation in your voice palpable. “hello?”
his voice came through, cold and casual. “what are you doing?” you rolled your eyes again, your tone dripping with venom. “getting ready to meet my step-brother.” the words were laced with a disdainful emphasis, meant to irritate your mother, who was still buried in her work.
there was a pause on the other end, followed by taehyung’s cautious inquiry. “is it official, then? will kim seokjin really become your step-brother?” you snorted derisively. “don’t ever call him that again,” you snapped, unable to hide the venom in your voice. “he’s nothing more than a nuisance.” with that, you ended the call abruptly, the screen darkening as you tossed your phone aside. you returned to your reflection in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your dress with a mixture of resignation and defiance. the evening ahead promised to be another stage in the endless drama of your life—a life where every interaction was tinged with power plays and unspoken rivalries.
you accompanied your mother through the opulent corridor leading to the restaurant linked to kim hyunsoo’s grand hotel, the weight of your irritation palpable with each step. the opulence of the hotel’s interior did little to soothe your mood. the lavish decor—gold leaf accents, polished marble floors, and crystal chandeliers—felt like an elaborate facade, masking the discomfort you felt.
“this is absolutely ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, the words escaping through gritted teeth. “i can’t believe i have to endure another evening of this charade.” your mother, walking beside you with her usual air of practiced elegance, offered no comment. she was focused on her phone, perhaps finalizing details for the evening or merely avoiding the exchange of pleasantries.
as you reached the entrance to the restaurant, your eyes fell on kim hyunsoo standing at the threshold, his imposing figure framed by the grand entrance. his presence was magnetic, a blend of authority and charisma. the moment he saw your mother, his face broke into a warm smile. he stepped forward and greeted her with a tender kiss on the cheek, a display of affection that seemed almost theatrical.
you couldn't suppress the scoff that escaped your lips. the gesture seemed to be as much a performance as it was genuine affection, a mere piece of the elaborate play that was your life. hyunsoo turned to you, his smile unwavering. “ah, (y/n),” he said warmly, his eyes surveying you with an appraising gaze. “you’ve certainly inherited your mother’s looks.”
the comment made you cringe inwardly, though you maintained a polite smile. “thank you,” you replied, forcing a touch of gratitude into your voice. your gaze shifted to the table where kim seokjin sat, his presence commanding attention even from a distance. he was seated with a relaxed posture, a faint smirk playing on his lips—a smirk you knew all too well. the dynamic between him and his father was palpable; hyunsoo’s authoritative demeanor was mirrored by the cold distance he maintained with his son.
“seokjin, please stand up, don't be rude” his father instructed, his voice tinged with an almost imperceptible note of command. seokjin rose with a practiced grace, his smirk never faltering. as he approached your mother, he greeted her with a display of chivalry, his smile polished and disarmingly charming. “good evening, ma'am. it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
he turned his attention to you, extending a hand with a smirk that seemed to say he knew all your secrets. “haven’t seen you in a while, sister.” you couldn’t help but scoff at the nickname, the term dripping with insincerity. “how’s my friend, the fiancé?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing edge.
you rolled your eyes, though you tried to keep your tone even. “taehyung has been well, thank you for asking.”
your mother, sensing the undercurrent of tension, quickly intervened. “let’s not stand on ceremony. please, everyone, let’s sit down and enjoy our meal.” with that, the group moved to their seats, the evening set to unfold in the lavish surroundings of the restaurant. the table, elegantly set with fine china and crystal glasses, seemed to promise a night of carefully orchestrated politeness and hidden animosities. as you settled into your chair, you braced yourself for the intricate dance of social niceties and familial politics that lay ahead.
the dining room, bathed in the soft glow of hanging chandeliers, was a tableau of refined elegance. the table was adorned with pristine white linens, crystal glassware, and polished silver cutlery, each element meticulously arranged to complement the luxurious surroundings. as you and the others settled into your seats, the clinking of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation filled the space.
hyunsoo, with his air of effortless charm, took the lead in the conversation. “so, (y/n),” he began, addressing you with a casual interest, “how do you and my son know each other?” you placed your fork down, your gaze steady. “we attend the same high school,” you explained, your tone even. “he used to be friends with taehyung, my fiancé.”
hyunsoo turned his attention to his son, his eyes narrowing slightly as he posed a question. “seokjin, why did you two stop hanging out?” his son, sitting with an air of casual defiance, responded with a scoff.
“i’d rather not talk about it,” he said dismissively. he then directed his gaze back to you, his smirk reappearing with an almost predatory gleam. “do give him my best regards,” he said with an insincere sweetness that made your skin crawl.
the conversation was beginning to wear on your patience. the façade of civility, the undercurrents of tension—it was all too much. with a sigh, you decided it was best to excuse yourself. “i’ve lost my appetite,” you announced, standing up with a decisive motion. “i’ll be leaving now.” without waiting for a response, you made your way out of the restaurant, the cool evening air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the allure of retail therapy beckoned. you needed to blow off steam and escape the artificial pleasantries of the evening.
just as you were contemplating how to leave without drawing unwanted attention, you heard the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. turning around, you saw seokjin approaching, his smirk as unwavering as ever. “planning to see lover boy?” he asked, his voice carrying a taunting edge. you arched an eyebrow, the irritation in your tone barely concealed. “i’m going shopping. i can’t stand this anymore.”
his expression shifted slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips as he leaned in closer. “i hate it as much as you do,” he admitted in a low voice. “but there’s nothing you can do about it. you’ll just have to make peace with being my sister.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his audacity. “and why should i take advice from you?”
he gestured toward a sleek motorcycle parked at the curb, its dark surface gleaming under the streetlights. “the mall’s too far away, princess,” he said with a casual shrug. “good luck walking there.” he turned and began to walk toward the motorcycle, his smirk growing wider.
you hesitated for a moment, the prospect of walking a long distance against the backdrop of your frustration compelling you to reconsider. with a resigned sigh, you caved and followed him. he glanced over his shoulder, a satisfied gleam in his eye as he handed you a helmet. “climb on,” he instructed. “and hold on tight.”
you mounted the motorcycle with a scoff, feeling his smirk radiate through the air. as he settled into place in front of you, the rumble of the engine beneath you provided a thrilling contrast to the evening’s earlier tension. you gripped the edges of his jacket, readying yourself for the ride. his presence, though infuriating, was about to take you away from the constraints of the evening’s charade and into the night’s liberating possibilities.
the rumble of the motorcycle beneath you was a steady, rhythmic pulse as seokjin maneuvered through the city streets, heading towards the mall. the cool night air whipped past you, mingling with the hum of the engine and the occasional flash of neon lights from the passing storefronts. the journey was a blend of discomfort and unexpected exhilaration, with his occasional glances over his shoulder adding a touch of irritation to the otherwise liberating ride.
when the motorcycle finally came to a stop in front of the gleaming mall entrance, you dismounted, the solid ground beneath your feet a welcome change from the bike’s vibrations. you turned to him, eyebrow raised in surprise. “where do you think you’re going?” you asked, catching sight of him sliding off the motorcycle with a casual grace. his smirk was as unwavering as ever. “accompanying you,” he replied, arching an eyebrow with a nonchalant air. “it’s the brotherly thing to do, after all.”
you rolled your eyes but chose not to argue. with a huff, you headed towards the entrance of the mall, the anticipation of shopping lifting your spirits slightly. the vast interior of the mall was a labyrinth of luxury boutiques, department stores, and specialty shops, all bathed in the soft, ambient glow of recessed lighting.
you wandered through a myriad of stores, each one a treasure trove of fashion and accessories. from high-end clothing to chic accessories and luxurious makeup, you filled multiple shopping bags to the brim. each time your arms began to tire, you’d hand the bags over to seokjin, who wore an expression of resigned defeat.
his initial smirk had faded into a look of palpable exhaustion as he struggled to juggle the growing collection of shopping bags. “is this really necessary?” he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. you smirked at him, reveling in his discomfort. “it’s the brotherly thing to do,” you replied with a teasing inflection, mimicking his earlier words. he merely scoffed, but he complied, following you through store after store. the evening wore on, the mall’s atmosphere a dizzying blur of bright lights and vibrant displays.
as you perused a selection of skirts, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name. you turned, surprised to see taehyung striding towards you with an expression of concern. seokjin’s scoff was barely audible beside you. “you’ve gotta be joking,” he muttered under his breath.
taehyung approached, his gaze shifting between you and seokjin with evident disapproval. “what are you doing with him?” he asked, his tone edged with tension. before you could respond, seokjin wrapped an arm around you, his smirk a mocking contrast to taehyung’s serious demeanor. “shopping with her brother,” he said smoothly. “we’re just bonding. why the long face?”
taehyung’s eyes narrowed in response. “call me when you get the chance,” he said, his voice softening as he turned to you. he leaned in and planted a brief, affectionate kiss on your cheek before stepping back. seokjin scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain. “how touching,” he remarked sarcastically.
the display of affection felt hollow, a forced gesture that did little to alleviate the artificiality of the evening. you turned to seokjin with a glare, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “you haven’t told him, have you?”
he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “what? that you slept with me?” he asked, his tone nonchalant. “can’t say that I have.”
the memory of that night—the one you had hoped to keep buried—flashed through your mind, bringing a wave of discomfort. you grimaced, your voice sharp with a sudden edge. “keep it that way,” you snapped. “for both our sakes.” his eyes narrowed slightly, though his smirk remained. “consider it done,” he said with a shrug. “but don’t expect me to be quiet forever.” as he turned to follow you once more, the tension between you felt almost palpable, the facade of familial civility wearing thin. the revelation, unexpected and intense, hung in the air like a dark cloud over the evening's strained politeness, promising that the complex web of relationships and hidden truths was far from over.
the ride back to your place was a strained silence punctuated only by the low rumble of the engine and the occasional rush of wind. seokjin’s grip on the handlebars was steady, but the tension between you was almost tangible. the city lights flickered by in a blur, the streets now quiet and calm after the evening's earlier hustle. as he maneuvered the bike into the parking lot of your residential complex, you could see the familiar outline of your building emerging from the shadows. the cool night air greeted you as you dismounted, the weight of the evening's events heavy on your shoulders.
your mother was waiting outside, a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, the smoke curling lazily into the night. her face lit up with a practiced smile when she spotted the two of you. “oh, what a lovely surprise,” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with insincerity. “i’m so happy to see you both bonding.” seokjin gave a polite nod, his expression a mask of courteousness. “good night, ma'am” he said, preparing to leave.
but before he could pull away, your mother called out, her tone shifting from casual to inviting. “oh, seokjin, why don’t you stay the night? you might as well make yourself comfortable, since you and your father will be moving in soon anyway.” you let out an audible scoff, your annoyance clear. “mother, that—”
his initial inclination to decline was evident, but when he caught sight of your reaction, a calculating smirk slowly crept onto his face. “i’d be honoured,” he said smoothly, addressing your mother. the shift in his demeanor was immediate, and you felt your face fall in horror. the realization of what this meant settled over you like a cold, heavy blanket. your mother, oblivious to your distress, beamed with delight. “wonderful!” she exclaimed. “come inside, both of you.”
you turned to him with a glare, your frustration palpable. “what do you think you’re doing?” you demanded. his smirk widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “just keeping my sister company,” he replied, his voice dripping with insincerity.
with a resigned sigh, you turned on your heel and headed towards the entrance of the building. “fine,” you said curtly. “you can start by carrying the bags in.” the satisfaction of seeing his grimace as he picked up the bags was a small consolation as you walked inside, the weight of the evening’s revelations settling heavily over you. the prospect of having seokjin as a constant presence in your life, particularly as your step-brother, was an unsettling twist that promised to complicate things further.
as you prepared for bed, the hum of conversation from the living room seeped into your room. the voices of your mother and seokjin intertwined in a nauseating symphony of pleasantries and false intimacy. the sound of his laughter, insincere and mocking, only served to heighten your irritation. you could imagine the sickeningly sweet exchange taking place just beyond the door: your mother’s fluttering giggles and his carefully measured compliments.
you stood in front of your mirror, the soft, silken strands of your hair cascading over your shoulders as you brushed them out. each stroke was a deliberate motion, a small attempt to maintain a semblance of control amid the chaos that had abruptly entered your life. the pale light of the bedside lamp illuminated your reflection, casting delicate shadows on your features.
suddenly, your mother’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. “(y/n), come to the living room for a moment.”
your heart sank as you walked down the hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last. the living room’s soft, warm light contrasted starkly with the cool, calculating presence of seokjin, who was lounging comfortably on the sofa. his eyes met yours with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
“oh, there you are,” your mother said with a bright, if forced, cheerfulness. “seokjin proposed such a wonderful idea. we should invite taehyung for breakfast with the whole family tomorrow.” the words felt like a punch to the gut. your stomach churned, and you felt your face pale as you glared at him. the smirk on his face was almost predatory, a silent taunt that he knew exactly what he was doing. “it’s been a while since i've seen him,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, feigning nostalgia.
your mouth went dry, and you struggled to maintain your composure. “taehyung’s been busy with the company,” you said, forcing a casual tone into your voice. your mother’s eyes narrowed with impatience. “nonsense,” she said dismissively. “he always makes time for his fiancée. don’t be ridiculous, (y/n).”
seokjin chimed in, his voice laced with an undercurrent of venom. “i’d think so too. it would be nice to catch up.” biting back the retort on the tip of your tongue, you managed to force a strained smile. “i’ll give him a call and see if he can make it.”
your mother’s face lit up with unrestrained delight. “perfect! we’ll all have a lovely time.”
with a final nod, your mother headed towards her bedroom, leaving you and seokjin alone. you retreated to your room, your mind a tumult of frustration and unease. as you resumed brushing your hair, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. he was standing just outside your door, watching you with an unsettling, predatory gaze.
“are you out of your mind?” you snapped, not turning around. his smirk widened as he stepped into the room, his presence exuding a palpable tension. he moved with deliberate slowness, his footsteps almost silent against the polished floor. as he approached, your breath quickened, the space between you narrowing until his breath was warm against the back of your neck. he gently pushed your hair aside, his touch lingering just a little too long.
“what’s the issue?” he murmured, his voice low and taunting. “are you so afraid of your fiancé finding out about our little rendezvous? or perhaps you’re concerned your mother might discover that her perfect daughter has a rather troubling fondness for her new stepbrother?”
you stiffened in front of the mirror, your heart racing. desperately trying to maintain a facade of calm, you replied, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he chuckled softly, the sound resonating with dark amusement. “oh, i’m sure you don’t,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “well, good night then. i look forward to seeing my brother-in-law tomorrow.”
as he walked away, the soft click of the door closing behind him left you in a charged silence. the intensity of the moment lingered, leaving you with a tangled mix of dread and apprehension. as you stared at your reflection, the night’s revelations swirled around you, setting the stage for the complex and treacherous path that lay ahead.
as the clock ticked away into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself hunched over your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you typed out a message to taehyung. the screen’s dim glow illuminated your face, casting shadows that only seemed to deepen the anxiety pooling in your stomach.
“hey, taehyung. i’ve arranged for breakfast with my family tomorrow. it would mean a lot if you could join us. i hope you’re free.” you stared at the message for a moment, the words feeling like a leaden weight. the last thing you wanted was for him to be in the same room as seokjin, but you couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to cancel the invitation. with a resigned sigh, you hit send, hoping for an excuse to emerge from somewhere, anywhere. throwing your phone onto the bedside table, you buried your face in the cool sheets and forced yourself to sleep, even as the anxiety kept your mind racing.
when morning light filtered through the curtains, you reluctantly dragged yourself from the bed. the day stretched before you, fraught with the tension of what awaited. you moved through your morning routine with mechanical precision, each movement a choreographed dance of necessity rather than joy. dressed in a sleek, sophisticated outfit—elegant yet understated—you made your way to the dining hall. the murmur of conversation and the clink of cutlery reached your ears before you even stepped inside. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
the scene that greeted you was like a punch to the gut. the dining table was a tableau of familial warmth and cheer, a stark contrast to the tumult brewing within you. your mother sat at the head of the table, a vision of radiant composure, while seokjin and his father occupied the seats on either side. the sight that nearly made your heart stop was taehyung, seated directly beside seokjin, his expression a mix of discomfort and forced politeness.
the moment you entered, seokjin’s eyes lit up with a devious glint. his smirk widened as he called out in a tone laced with mock cheerfulness, “there’s my sister! finally decided to join us?” your stomach dropped as your mother’s face brightened. “oh, you’re just in time!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “we’ve been waiting for you.”
seokjin’s father turned to you, his gaze appreciative as he remarked, “you look stunning this morning.” you offered a strained smile in return, your insides twisting with a mixture of frustration and dread. with deliberate steps, you crossed the room and took a seat directly across from seokjin. the breakfast spread was a feast of opulent proportions, but your appetite was long gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease.
turning to taehyung, you forced a pleasant smile. “good morning, taehyung.” his response was a carefully controlled, if equally false, smile. “good morning, sweetheart.”
the term of endearment seemed to have a magnetic effect on seokjin, who looked at taehyung with an expression that flickered between amusement and something darker—resentment, perhaps. the corners of his mouth twitched as if he were about to say something, but he restrained himself, the hint of a smirk still playing at his lips. your mother’s cooing only served to heighten the discomfort. “oh, you two make such a lovely couple. it’s wonderful to see you both getting along so well.”
seokjin’s eyes were a dark pool of satisfaction as he observed the interaction, clearly reveling in the discomfort he had orchestrated. the breakfast proceeded with strained conversation and polite laughter, each bite of food tasting like cardboard, each exchange of pleasantries feeling like a forced performance. the morning air was thick with the pretenses and tensions that lay just beneath the surface. each passing moment felt like a countdown to the inevitable fallout, and you could only hope that somehow, someway, this precarious balance would hold until you could escape the confines of the gilded cage.
the clinking of cutlery against fine china created a rhythmic backdrop to the strained conversation. your mother, ever the adept conversationalist, turned her attention to you and taehyung with a gleaming smile. “so,” she began, her tone warm and honeyed, “have you two given any more thought to the wedding plans? i’m sure there’s so much to organize, but it’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?”
taehyung, his expression a mask of polite detachment, nodded. “yes, we’ve been working through the details. there’s a lot to consider, but we’re managing.” you offered a non-committal shrug. “it’s just a formality, really. the details don’t matter much to me.”
your mother’s smile faltered slightly but she pressed on. “oh, but it’s such an important day. you’ll want everything to be perfect.” seokjin, who had been watching with a calculating gaze, leaned in with a fabricated sincerity. “you two are such a precious couple. it’s heartwarming to see you both so committed.”
you shot him a glare, your eyes narrowing in warning, but the intensity of his smirk only grew. unbeknownst to the others at the table, his hand began a slow, deliberate journey up your hamstring, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your ankle before tracing along your heel. a shiver ran up your spine, not from pleasure but from the shock of his audacity. his touch was both tender and invasive, a contradictory blend that left you feeling unnervingly exposed. his eyes flickered toward taehyung, who was deeply engaged in conversation with your mother, oblivious to the silent exchange happening under the table.
with a determined calmness, you shifted your foot, removing the heel from your shoe. you pressed your bare sole gently against his clothed crotch, the contact eliciting a subdued grunt from him. the sound was enough to draw the attention of everyone at the table.
your mother's head snapped toward him, a frown of concern etched on her face. “is everything alright?” seokjin cleared his throat, a mask of discomfort now in place. “just a bit of a cramp,” he said, his voice strained but controlled. “i’ll be fine.”
your mother’s eyes softened with concern. “do you need an ice pack, dear?” he shook his head, though his eyes remained locked with yours, a smirk barely contained. “no, thank you. i’ll manage.”
as you slipped your foot back into your heel, the smug satisfaction on your face was palpable. the brief encounter had been a dangerous game, but you had managed to assert some measure of control. the exchange was subtle, yet charged with an intensity that left your pulse racing. taehyung, still watching seokjin with a mixture of worry and suspicion, glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. he seemed to sense that something had occurred, but the details eluded him. you met his gaze with an innocent, if somewhat strained, smile.
seokjin’s gaze lingered on you, his smirk now a twisted symbol of triumph. the underlying tension was almost tangible, a dark thread weaving through the seemingly mundane breakfast conversation. despite the outward civility, the air crackled with an unspoken challenge, a game of dominance played out in the guise of a simple family meal.
as taehyung prepared to leave, you approached him with a practiced grace, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. the gesture, though routine, was met with enthusiastic coos from your mother and her new husband, their faces lighting up with approval. seokjin, however, observed with a dark intensity, his gaze locked with taehyung’s in a silent, menacing exchange. the atmosphere crackled with unspoken hostility as he departed, leaving you standing at the threshold of your room.
once alone, you retreated to your room, eager to change out of your breakfast attire. your wardrobe offered a range of options, but you were immediately drawn to a sleek, pink dress. as you pulled it from the hanger, a voice, cold and commanding, cut through the quiet. “don’t wear that one. too short.”
startled, you turned to see seokjin standing in the doorway, his smirk taunting. you rolled your eyes and tossed the dress aside with a dismissive flick of your wrist. “it’s none of your concern.” his amusement only grew. he sauntered closer, the confidence in his step both unsettling and provocative. his next question was blunt, his eyes narrowing with a predatory glint. “have you and taehyung fucked yet?”
you recoiled, a flush rising to your cheeks as you scoffed at his vulgarity. “you’re disgusting,” you decided to do what you did best—you lied. “but if you must know, yes, we have.”
his smirk never wavered as he drew near, his breath warm against your ear. “oh, really? was he good?” your heart raced, but you forced yourself to respond with practiced nonchalance. “the best i’ve ever had.”
before you could register the full impact of your lie, his hands were on your hips, his touch sending an involuntary shiver through you. his fingers grazed the fabric of your dress, moving with deliberate slowness. he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, igniting a frisson of unwanted pleasure. the sensation was overwhelming as his finger slipped beneath the hem of your dress, brushing your clit through your underwear. a sharp yelp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto his arm, your grip tight as if to anchor yourself in the face of his audacity.
“stop,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. “anyone could come in.”
seokjin’s eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction as he withdrew his touch, his fingers lingering in the air for a moment. he turned toward the door, but not before performing a slow, deliberate motion that made your stomach churn. he brought his finger to his mouth, licking it clean with a sensuous, unhurried stroke. “just wanted a taste,” he said softly, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “breakfast wasn’t enough.”
with that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him. you stood frozen, your mind racing as you processed the invasion of privacy and the degradation you had just endured. the room felt oppressively quiet, the tension of the encounter leaving an acrid taste in the air. you hurried to your mirror, your reflection revealing a flush of lust and humiliation. your hands trembled as you grasped the discarded dress, the weight of his touch lingering in your senses. desperately, you tried to compose yourself, to regain some semblance of control as you prepared to face the rest of the day.
the day had dawned with a biting chill, but you were too preoccupied with the turmoil from the night before to pay it any heed. as you slipped into your uniform, the short, beige skirt clung uncomfortably to your hips. you meticulously dusted off the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles as best as you could. the skirt, although practical, felt like an unwelcome reminder of the escalating tension between you and seokjin.
stepping out of your room, you were met with your mother’s beaming smile. she was already preparing to offer you a ride, her cheerfulness a stark contrast to your inner turmoil. but before she could extend the offer, seokjin appeared beside her, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of approval and something darker.
“i’ll take her,” he announced smoothly, his voice carrying a confident, almost commanding tone. your mother’s face lit up with delight. “oh, that’s a wonderful idea, jin! i’m sure you two will have a pleasant drive.”
you tried to voice your protest, but the words seemed to die on your lips as you followed him to the entrance. as you walked, you felt his hand graze your thigh—a touch both intimate and unnervingly casual. a shiver ran up your spine as he let out a soft tsk, his gaze sliding down to your skirt. “this skirt's much too short,” he commented with a feigned air of disapproval. you fought the urge to flinch at his touch, though it left a disconcerting sensation in your stomach. rolling your eyes, you replied, “it’s not short enough.”
his sharp look silenced you instantly, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that made you want to shrink away. without a word, he reached into the compartment of his motorcycle and pulled out a helmet. the sleek, black visor seemed to glint with a dangerous promise. he handed it to you with a barely perceptible smirk. “here,” he said, “you’ll need this.”
you took the helmet with a resigned sigh, slipping it over your head. as you adjusted it, seokjin mounted his motorcycle with practiced ease. he gestured for you to climb on behind him. with a deep breath, you wrapped your arms around his waist, the feel of his body against yours both unsettling and strangely thrilling. his touch was almost absent as he guided the motorcycle out of the driveway, his movements smooth and fluid. the engine roared to life beneath you, and you felt the vibration travel up through the seat, connecting you in a way that was both intimate and intrusive. as the bike picked up speed, the wind whipped around you, a harsh reminder of the precarious balance between control and chaos in your relationship with him.
the motorcycle finally rolled to a stop outside the grand gates of your school, a prestigious, modern private institution that towered above you with its gleaming glass façade and intricate architectural details. the building seemed to pulse with a life of its own, reflecting the morning sun in a dazzling display of light. you dismounted quickly, feeling seokjin’s presence just behind you as you surveyed the sea of students who turned their heads to watch.
with a practiced air of indifference, you strode towards the entrance, the clack of your heels against the pavement sharp and commanding. seokjin matched your pace, his stride relaxed yet unmistakably assured. his presence only amplified the scrutiny from your peers, their eyes flitting between you and him as they whispered amongst themselves.
the hallways of the school were just as opulent as the exterior, decorated with sleek marble floors and walls adorned with modern art. you approached your locker with the familiar weight of the day’s burden pressing on your shoulders. as you spun the combination, the soft murmur of voices from two girls near the lockers caught your attention. “did you see that?” one whispered, her tone tinged with awe and curiosity. “she’s with kim seokjin.”
“yeah,” the other replied, “i heard he’s going to be her stepbrother. and what about taehyung? is he still her fiancé?” you froze momentarily, your mind racing. you snapped your head in their direction, the edge of your gaze sharp enough to cut through the uncertainty that hung in the air. the girls fell silent, their eyes widening as they avoided your stare.
“speak up,” you demanded, your voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “i can’t hear you properly.” the two girls exchanged terrified glances before they hastily gathered their things and hurried away, their retreating footsteps echoing down the corridor. you slammed your locker shut with a decisive bang, the sound reverberating through the hallway. the echo of their whispers was replaced by the gentle, almost mocking chuckle of seokjin beside you.
“you know,” he said with a smirk, his voice low and teasing, “you might want to consider being a bit nicer. you’d have less to deal with if you did.”
you shot him a look that could have frozen fire, your expression a mix of annoyance and disdain. “dealing with you is a death sentence itself,” you retorted sharply. his amusement only grew as he followed you down the hallway, his laughter a low, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in time with your quickening pace. the halls were filled with a soft hum of activity as students bustled about, their chatter and laughter creating a backdrop to your tense exchange.
the bell chimed with its usual, resonant clang, signaling the beginning of your literature class. the room, with its rows of wooden desks and high-backed chairs, settled into a hush as students rustled through their notebooks and textbooks. the light from the large windows spilled across the floor in golden patches, warming the space and casting a serene glow over the scene.
the professor, a middle-aged woman with a penchant for dramatic flair, stepped to the front of the class. she adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat, her eyes twinkling with the promise of intellectual challenge.
“today,” she began, “we will be delving into the complexities of shakespeare’s works. i want to start by discussing hamlet. can anyone tell me about the significance of the ghost in the play?” the room was filled with a heavy silence as students exchanged glances, their faces betraying a mix of uncertainty and reluctance. you could almost feel the collective hesitation hanging in the air. with a soft, derisive scoff, you raised your hand.
“yes, (y/n)?” the professor prompted. “the ghost of king hamlet represents the unresolved issues and the sins of the past,” you began smoothly, your tone both confident and nonchalant. “he acts as a catalyst for hamlet’s quest for revenge and moral reflection, underscoring the play’s themes of corruption and madness.”
the professor nodded appreciatively, and you continued to field the subsequent questions with equal ease. your responses flowed effortlessly, the knowledge gained from countless hours of studying shakespeare’s intricacies and nuances evident in your answers. each question seemed to melt away beneath your adept grasp of the material, leaving the professor and the class in a state of quiet admiration—or, perhaps, envy.
throughout your impromptu display of literary prowess, seokjin sat at the back of the room, his gaze locked on you with an expression of bemused amusement. his smirk widened with each correct answer, his eyes sparkling with an inscrutable mixture of pride and mischief. the way he watched you, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual elegance, made it clear that he enjoyed every moment of your intellectual dominance.
then, breaking the relative silence of the lecture, his voice cut through the air with a deliberate casualness. “professor,” he began, his tone smooth and deliberately casual, “will the class be covering cymbeline at any point?” your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the play. you froze, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk as your eyes shot towards him. his gaze met yours, and the smirk on his lips was infuriatingly smug.
the professor, momentarily taken aback, adjusted her glasses and thought for a moment. “ah, cymbeline,” she mused. “it is indeed a romance about the struggles and complexities of unrequited love between the characters of cloten and imogen, who, as it turns out, are stepsiblings. we will be covering this play in our syllabus, and you’ll have the opportunity to discuss its themes and characters in the near future.”
as she spoke, you felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. the connection he had made—whether intentional or not—was impossible to ignore. the irony of discussing a romance between stepsiblings while seated next to him, the future stepbrother in your life, was nearly unbearable. you buried your face in your hands, the heat of mortification blending with frustration. seokjin’s amusement was palpable. he leaned back, his smirk widening as he relished in the discomfort he had stirred. his eyes glinted with satisfaction as he observed your reaction, finding some twisted pleasure in the way you squirmed beneath his gaze.
the bell rang, its sharp peal reverberating through the hallways of the private school. students began to shuffle out of the classroom, their voices mingling into a hum of chatter as they made their way to their next destination. you, with a determined stride, pushed through the crowd, eager to escape the claustrophobic confines of the literature class.
just as you were about to leave the classroom, a familiar voice called out from behind you.
“impressive as always, sister” seokjin said with a mocking inflection in his tone. “your knowledge of literature, your prowess in speaking four languages, and let’s not forget your mathematical skills. quite the renaissance woman.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him and quickening your pace. “not now, seokjin,” you muttered, focusing on the path ahead.
with his characteristic blend of confidence and insolence, he wasn’t easily deterred. he kept pace beside you, his footsteps echoing your own. “oh, but wait,” he continued, a sly smile curling his lips, “such brilliance, and yet—”
he paused dramatically, letting his words hang in the air. you shot him a wary glance, your irritation mounting. “and yet?” you prompted, trying to keep your voice steady. “so smart,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “until she’s on her knees for her stepbrother.”
you froze mid-step, the echo of his words reverberating in your mind. the hallway seemed to close in around you, the chatter of students fading into a distant murmur. you whirled around to face him, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “keep it down, asshole” you hissed, glancing around to ensure no one else could hear. “anyone could hear you.”
his smirk widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. without warning, he reached out and grasped your wrist, pulling you back towards him. you stumbled slightly, your back pressing against his chest as he held you close.
“don’t you want to have lunch with your stepbrother?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. the proximity made your pulse quicken, a mixture of fear and frustration bubbling beneath the surface. you shivered, both from his touch and the implications of his words. “let go, asshole,” you said, struggling to free yourself from his grip. “this isn’t funny.”
he didn’t release you, though. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “come on,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine. “you can’t avoid me forever.” reluctantly, you sighed and resigned yourself to the situation. “fine,” you muttered, “let’s go.”
his grip on your wrist loosened, and he finally released you, though he maintained a close proximity as you both made your way to the cafeteria. the hallway was bustling with students, their faces a blur of excitement and chatter. he walked beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the tension between you. as you entered the cafeteria, the noise level surged. The scent of various foods—freshly baked bread, savory meats, and sweet desserts—filled the air. the large room was filled with long tables, some already occupied by groups of students engaged in animated conversations. you and seokjin made your way to an empty table in the corner, away from the more crowded areas.
he pulled out a chair for you with an exaggerated flourish, his smirk never fading. “after you, dear step-sister,” he said, his voice dripping with mock politeness.
you sat down, your eyes narrowing at him as you took in the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him. his presence was both intimidating and infuriating. as you began to look over the food options, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you, you could feel the weight of his words and actions pressing down on you. “why are you doing this?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached for a plate. his eyes sparkled with mischief. “doing what?” he asked innocently, though the gleam in his eye betrayed his true intentions.
“playing games,” you clarified, your frustration palpable. “why make things so difficult?” he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “it’s not about making things difficult,” he said casually. “it’s about making things interesting. besides, it’s not every day i get to spend time with my step-sister.”
as you both waited for your food, the cafeteria buzzed with the chatter of other students, the atmosphere filled with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the tension between you and him. the clash of his casual demeanor against your stiff, frustrated silence created a palpable tension in the air, one that neither of you seemed willing to break.
as he leaned back in his chair, his casual demeanor never faltering, you turned to him with an edge of exasperation in your voice. “seokjin,” you began, your tone sharp, “stop calling me your step-sister. it’s not funny.” his smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “oh, but it is funny,” he said, a mischievous tone threading through his words. “besides, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”
before you could retort, the cafeteria doors swung open with a familiar creak. taehyung walked in, his expression taut with displeasure. his eyes locked onto yours and then to seokjin. he approached the table, his gaze stern. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice low and controlled but clearly irritated.
seokjin, seemingly unfazed, looked up at him with a smirk. “isn’t it obvious?” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “i’m simply enjoying lunch with my sister.” you shot him a withering glare, feeling the flush of humiliation creeping up your neck. taehyung’s patience seemed to wear thin as he turned to you.
“get up,” he said firmly, extending his hand. you stared at him in astonishment. “what? why?”
“just get up,” he repeated, his tone brooking no argument. reluctantly, you stood, but before you could move, seokjin’s hand shot out, gripping your arm with surprising force. “sit back down,” he commanded, his voice icy.
taehyung’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “if you don’t let her go,” he said through gritted teeth, “i’ll knock your ass out clean.”
seokjin’s smirk remained, his eyes twinkling with dark amusement. “please,” he said, gesturing towards the other students who had begun to watch the scene unfold. “let’s not make a scene.”
mortification washed over you as the stares of the students pierced through you like daggers. “cut it out, both of you,” you said, your voice rising in desperation. “this is ridiculous.”
taehyung’s frustration was palpable as he reached for your wrist, pulling gently. “let’s go,” he said firmly. but just as he began to lead you away, seokjin yanked you back by your other arm, his grip unyielding. the two men locked eyes, the tension between them nearly tangible.
taehyung’s jaw clenched. “watch what you’re doing,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. seokjin’s smirk only deepened. “oh, i’m just having a little fun,” he said, his tone taunting. “if you think you can do something about it, feel free to try.”
before taehyung could make a move, you interjected, your voice trembling but resolute. “seokjin,” you said firmly, “i’ll be right back.” his eyes flashed with reluctant understanding, though his smirk remained. he released his grip on your arm but maintained a watchful gaze as you began to follow taehyung. as you moved away, the atmosphere crackled with an unspoken challenge between the two of them. you glanced back once, catching seokjin’s smirk as he watched you go. taehyung, leading you away, was clearly trying to keep his anger in check, his grip on your wrist tight but not painful.
he led you outside the front doors of the school, the crisp afternoon air hitting you with a sharpness that matched the tension between you. he didn’t release his grip on your wrist until you were standing under the shadow of a large oak tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. “what’s your problem?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady despite the surge of anger and hurt. “why are you being such an asshole? neither of us wanted this engagement, so why does it matter what i do?”
his glare was as cold as steel. “it matters because my reputation is on the line,” he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. “i didn’t agree to this engagement, but i have to uphold a certain image. seeing you so close to seokjin makes me look weak and unreliable. that’s something i can’t afford.”
the hurt in your chest felt like a physical blow, but you held your tongue as he continued. “i don’t care what you do behind closed doors,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “just keep it out of the public eye. my reputation is at stake, and i expect you to be more mindful of that when others are around.” his words cut deep, leaving you standing there, stunned and wounded. the weight of his disapproval pressed heavily upon you, making it hard to breathe. as he turned on his heel and walked away, his stride confident and unyielding, you were left grappling with his harsh words.
as you stood there, processing the sting of his words, you felt a familiar touch on your shoulder. you turned to see seokjin standing behind you, his gaze sympathetic yet carrying an undercurrent of coldness as he watched taehyung retreating in the distance. “come on,” he said gently, his tone soft but firm. “i’ll take you home.���
you nodded, unable to muster more than a weary sigh. seokjin’s presence was a mixed blessing—his offer of support came with its own complexities, but right now, it was a comfort. as he guided you back towards his motorcycle, the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words and shared tension. you both walked in silence, the rustling leaves and distant hum of traffic filling the void. the drive back to your place was equally quiet, with his driving marked by an attentive, almost contemplative air. you glanced occasionally at him, but his eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable.
when you finally arrived at your place, the familiar surroundings did little to ease the turmoil inside you. seokjin parked the motorcycle and turned to you, his gaze softening slightly. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and sincere. you nodded, though the ache in your chest told a different story. “i’ll be fine,” you said, forcing a small smile. “thanks for the ride.”
his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a short nod. “if you need anything,” he said softly, “just let me know.” with that, you both stepped out. as you made your way to the door, his presence was a steady, albeit complex, support. you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the comfort of your home offering a momentary reprieve from the emotional storm.
the evening settled over the house, casting long shadows across the rooms as you moved through the kitchen, tidying up for dinner. the comforting hum of the dishwasher filled the space, a soothing background to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. you wiped down the counters with mechanical precision, trying to keep your mind occupied and away from the earlier confrontation with taehyung and the underlying tension with seokjin.
as you finished cleaning, you joined your mother and seokjin at the dining table. the air, which had once held a certain playful charm, now felt dense and suffocating. the weight of your mother’s earlier conversation with taehyung and the ensuing emotional turmoil clung to you like a shroud.
she seized the opportunity to delve into a discussion about your engagement. “you know,” she began, her tone casual yet probing, “i was thinking about the wedding preparations. we need to finalize the guest list and decide on the venue soon. It’s such an important event, and i want everything to be perfect for you and taehyung.” you nodded, though the words felt like daggers. “i’m sure everything will work out,” you replied, your voice tight with suppressed emotion.
seokjin, sitting across the table, cast a sympathetic glance your way but said nothing. he seemed to sense the delicate balance of the conversation and watched as your mother continued.
“and i know it’s a big adjustment,” your mother continued, her voice gentle but insistent. “but you’ll find that once you get used to the idea, it'll all fall into place. taehyung is a wonderful man, and i’m sure you’ll both make a great life together.” each word felt like a pinprick against your already raw nerves. you could barely maintain your composure as she spoke, her words a relentless reminder of the life you were being forced into. the suffocating weight of her expectations and the impossible situation you were trapped in pushed you closer to the edge.
finally, the strain became too much. “i don’t wanna hear about taehyung anymore,” you blurted out, your voice trembling with emotion. “it’s more than enough that i’m being forced into a life i don’t want. i don’t need to be reminded of it every minute.” your mother’s eyes widened in shock, her fork halting mid-air. seokjin’s gaze shifted from your mother to you, his expression softening as he took in your distress. the silence that followed your outburst was thick and uncomfortable, the air charged with the weight of your raw emotion.
tears welled in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away, but they came anyway, spilling down your cheeks. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i just can’t do this anymore.” without waiting for a response, you stood up from the table, your chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound. you hurried out of the room, not daring to look back. the cold comfort of your room was a small relief, a place where you could be alone with your thoughts.
you shut the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. the tears came freely now, each sob a release of the pent-up frustration and despair that had been building inside you. the crushing weight of your situation, the unrelenting pressure from your mother, and the complexities of your relationship with seokjin all converged into a single, overwhelming storm of emotion. outside, the house was eerily quiet. his sympathetic gaze had not gone unnoticed, and you could only hope that his understanding extended beyond the surface. as you cried into the softness of your pillow, you felt a small pang of gratitude for his presence, even as you wished desperately for the strength to face the days ahead.
you lay on your bed, your face buried in the pillow as the tears continued to flow. the muffled sound of your sobs was the only noise in the room, and the heavy silence was a stark contrast to the chaos in your heart. the warmth of the tears against your cheeks and the soft, wet fabric of the pillowcase were the only things grounding you in that moment.
you didn't hear the soft creak of the door opening, nor the quiet footsteps that followed. seokjin entered the room with a silent grace, closing the door behind him with a careful click. the dim light from the hallway cast long shadows on the floor, barely illuminating his figure as he approached. sitting beside you on the bed, he placed a comforting hand on your leg. his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the earlier tensions. “you’re gonna ruin your makeup,” he said softly, attempting to lighten the mood. his voice was warm, but there was an undertone of genuine concern.
you managed a watery laugh, the sound escaping through your tears. you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, struggling to regain some semblance of composure. when you looked at him, his gaze was unwaveringly sympathetic. he gently brushed away the tears that had escaped your attempts to dry them, his touch tender and reassuring. his eyes softened as he studied your face. the image of the woman before him, so vulnerable and distressed, was a far cry from the spoiled, spoiled girl he had initially perceived. there was a depth to you now, a raw honesty in your pain that challenged his previous assumptions.
“you’ll find a way out of this,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “any guy would be lucky to have you.” you shook your head, a defeated gesture. “i don’t want to be taehyung’s fiancée anymore,” you confessed, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “i can’t stand this life.”
his expression hardened with resolve. “i know,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “i’ll find a way out of it for you. i promise.”
before you could respond, he leaned closer. his lips brushed against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. the initial touch was gentle, a mere whisper of contact, but it quickly grew more intense. as his lips pressed more firmly against yours, the kiss became heated, filled with a passion that had been bubbling beneath the surface.
his body hovered over yours, the warmth of his form radiating against your own. his hands cupped your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss. each movement was deliberate, his touch both commanding and tender. the kiss conveyed a mix of comfort and desire, an unspoken promise in every press of his lips against yours. the world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips and the comforting strength of his presence. the kiss was a blend of urgency and tenderness, a moment of escape from the oppressive reality that had been suffocating you. seokjin’s hands roamed gently, his touch setting your skin aflame even as it soothed the storm within.
as the kiss continued, you found yourself responding, your hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders. the heat of the moment enveloped you, the kiss becoming an intense exchange of feelings that neither of you could fully articulate. his grip on your face tightened slightly, his kisses growing more fervent as he lost himself in the shared passion. “any man would be lucky to have my stepsister, right?”
you gasped against his mouth, nodding, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue delved deeper, tasting you thoroughly. seokjin’s hands began to wander, tracing the contours of your body with a hungry touch. his palms slid over your breasts, kneading gently before he reached for the hem of your shirt. you didn’t resist, allowing him to lift it over your head, baring your chest to the cool air. his eyes raked over your exposed skin, a look of pure lust in his gaze.
his mouth left yours to blaze a trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. your body arched, a soft moan escaping as his teeth grazed your collarbone. your skin was on fire, every nerve ending alight with a need that only he could satisfy. as his kisses grew more insistent, his hands worked at the button and zipper of your skirt, pulling it down over your hips. his warm breath against your skin was intoxicating, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
his eyes locked with yours as he slid your underwear aside, revealing your wet, swollen pussy. without hesitation, he leaned down to bury his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at your folds with a hunger that surprised even him. you bucked against his mouth, the sensation overwhelming, your hands gripping the bedcovers tightly. his tongue flicked and probed, his expert touch driving you wild. “told you i needed a taste,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
his mouth closed around your clit, sucking gently as his fingers slid into your tight heat. your breath hitched, a whimper escaping as he began to fuck you with his digits, setting a rhythm that matched the strokes of his tongue. the room was filled with the sounds of your passion, your cries muffled by the pillow you’d buried your face in. he ate you out like a starving man, savoring every drop of your arousal, his own need growing with every passing second.
his words were dirty, a stream of vulgar praise that had you squirming with pleasure. “you’re so fucking perfect, baby. so sweet and tight for me. gotta fill you up, make you scream my name. tell me you want it, tell me you’re mine.” his voice was gruff, a stark contrast to the gentle laps of his tongue.
you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body taut with anticipation. you whispered a shaky “yes, seokjin, yes—promise i'm all yours,” urging him on, begging for release. his pace increased, his tongue circling your clit faster, his fingers pumping in and out of you with an unyielding rhythm. your thighs trembled, your entire body tightening as the orgasm built within you.
finally, with a muffled scream into the pillow, you came, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. seokjin didn’t stop, his mouth working tirelessly to extend your climax, his fingers still moving within you. when the last tremor had passed, he kissed your inner thighs before standing up, his eyes dark with desire.
his own clothing was quickly discarded, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his length nudging at your entrance. “are you ready for me? need your step-brother that bad?” he growled, his voice low and animalistic.
you nodded, your eyes wide with need. “yes, please, yes.” he didn’t wait for further invitation, thrusting into you in one swift motion. your walls clenched around him, trying to accommodate his size. a gasp of pain mixed with pleasure slipped from your lips, but you didn’t protest. this was what you needed, what you’d been craving.
his strokes were deep and hard, claiming you as his own. his hands held your hips in a firm grip, keeping you in place as he drove into you without mercy. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. he didn’t hold back, fucking you with an intensity that left you breathless.
his eyes never left yours, the connection between you two palpable as he fucked you with an unbridled passion. your pussy was soaking wet, welcoming his every thrust, and with each push into you, seokjin felt a sense of power and ownership that he hadn’t experienced before. you were his, and he was going to make sure you knew it.
his hips pistoned against yours, his cock plunging deep inside you. your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that would later remind him of this illicit encounter. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had you writhing beneath him. “you’re so tight, baby. just need you to be quiet for me, don't let your mom hear us.” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.
his words only served to drive you higher, your breath coming in ragged gasps. your walls tightened around him, the friction building as he hit all the right spots. your body was his playground, and he was playing you like a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire. “you like that, don’t you? wonder what your mom would think, if she saw you like this—fucked out just for her step-brother's cock.” he taunted, his voice a mix of praise and degradation.
you couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind a whirlwind of sensation. all you could do was moan, your body a slave to the pleasure he was giving you. you felt yourself building up to another orgasm, the tension coiling in your belly like a tight spring. “yes, yes, yes,” you encouraged, your voice raw and desperate.
his rhythm grew erratic as he felt his own climax approaching. his grip on your hips tightened, his strokes becoming more frenzied. “i’m gonna cum inside you, baby. i’m gonna fill you up with my cum, mark you as mine.” his words were a declaration of ownership, a claiming that sent a thrill through your core.
you felt yourself tumbling over the edge once more, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. as it crested, you felt him tense above you, his cock pulsing as he released his seed deep within you. the warmth of his cum filled you, mixing with your own juices, creating a deliciously obscene mess. his breathing was harsh, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his release. he leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue invading your mouth as he continued to pump his hips, milking every last drop of pleasure from you. when he finally pulled out, he collapsed beside you, both of you panting and slick with sweat.
the room was filled with the scent of your shared passion, the air thick with the intimacy of your connection. he turned towards you, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if sealing a promise. “you'll find a way out of it,” he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. “and you'll always have me by your side.”
you looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. his words were a lifeline in the storm of your emotions, a promise of unwavering support and love. the weight of the world seemed a little lighter with him there, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. his eyes were filled with an earnest sincerity that made your heart ache. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone in this. as you nestled into his chest, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension slowly ebbing away.
“i can't be taehyung's fiancée anymore,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he tightened his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple. “i know,” he replied gently. “i promise you won't be.”
his reassurance was a soothing balm to your battered spirit. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in his arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace. the future was still uncertain, but with seokjin by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came your way. the bond between you, forged in the fires of your shared struggles, was unbreakable. and as you lay there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what happened, you would always have each other.
✧.*
a/n: should i end it here or make a part 2 lmk
#bts#bangtan boys#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#bts x reader fanfic#bts x reader fanfiction#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader smut#bts x reader fluff#bts x reader angst#kim seokjin#kim seokjin smut#kim seokjin angst#kim seokjin fluff#seokjin smut#kim seokjin x reader#kim seokjin fanfiction#kim seokjin fanfic#kim seokjin x reader smut#step siblings#step siblings!au#inspired by the heirs
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paid in full
"all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired. masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom word count: 10.116 warning: step-siblings, smut, blackmail, kissing (f on f), nipple sucking, wet dreams, alcohol intake, intake, kissing (m on f), fingering, dirty talking, praising, squirting,
“Sit straight.” your mother hisses quietly to you but her smile never falters. “They’ll be here any minute.”
You do as you’re told quietly, seething in your seat. You feel uncomfortable in the dress you were forced into by your mother and your feet are killing you - also thanks to your dear mother.
Your mother - back a few months ago - had met a man. You were less than surprised by that fact. Your mother has never not been single throughout your life. She assured whatever she or you needed that a man would be the one providing it. Boyfriend #19 had taken you to a father-daughter dance before she left him for the next.
Your father was once in the picture, but was later chased off by your mother; her claiming that neither of you needed a man with less income than her. It was laughable - because her income was never her own.
Now, the two of you are seated in a lavish restaurant with high ceilings equipped with chandeliers and classical music. Your mother is now going to introduce you to one of her latest catches - a man named Joon-sik. You rarely remember the names of such men, you would rather categorize them by Boyfriend, Fiance and Husband and whatever number they were. Your mother was married only twice, both marriages ending after a year. She was engaged a handful of times and the boyfriends were endless - and you counted the ones after you were born.
“He’s here.” your mothers tone is one of excitement and nervousness. “Stand up.”
You’re robotic. Your eyes scan whoever was strolling towards the two of you - and you’re left confused. A man is walking towards the pair of you, a light smile on his lips. He fits the part - elegant suit tailored to his size, dress shoes that you’re sure you can see your reflection on and light jewelry but not enough to be flashy.
“Who is that behind him?” you murmur the question to your mother and she only giggles in response, waving at the man.
“His son.”
Your throat goes dry when both men approach closer. Joon-sik’s son is tall, even taller than him. He stands out in this environment. Tight fitted black shirt with light blue jeans. Hi. His compact boots stood out just as the rest of his appearance did. Your initial thought was that he wore an undershirt with graphic sleeves, but as they came closer to your table, you realized that it was a sleeve of tattoos.
You gulp at the sight of the taller boy - man, because a boy could never look like him. His hair appeared soft; black and wavy. Was that a lip piercing?
“Joon-sik.” your mother cannot contain her excitement when he reaches the table. She rounds it and engulfs him into a hug, but you don’t watch. It’s difficult to remove your eyes from the unnamed man behind Joon-sik.
“This is my daughter.” your ears hear your mother say and finally you’re released from your trance.
Your reactions are robotic once more. You’ve been through this countless times. You smile at the man and bow slightly.
“This,” the man turns slightly to his son. He ushers him closer. “Is my son Jungkook.” he introduces proudly.
Jungkook offers a smile and you feel hot. His teeth are straight and pearly white and his lips appear gloss-like - not a crack in sight.
Your mother appears happy. You’re unsure if it’s genuine or if Joon-sik has a large enough bank account and will that causes her to smile. Nonetheless, Joon-sik is seemingly a nice man. He’s speaking with the two of you normally, asking you questions about your life - even if your mother does answer for you.
Jungkook doesn’t speak much but the relationship with his father was pure. His father speaks of his achievements proudly and you feel envious. It was obvious that Jungkook was not forced to be someone he wasn’t - forced into fancy clothes like you and to “sit politely” or “engage in the conversation”.
“Y/N-ah.” Joon-sik speaks. “I heard you’re applying to several universities.”
You nod your head while sipping your water.
“She applied late.” your mother sighs. “She wished to take a break after high school.”
You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your mother didn’t approve of the couple of years you took off to focus on yourself and gain work experience. But of course, this is a woman that hasn’t worked in years and opted in having others pay for whatever was needed.
“Jungkook had, as well.” Joon-sik smiles at you. “He’s actually going in the next few months.”
You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you. Panicked, you looked away.
“Oh!” your mother clasps her hands together. “You should apply to the same one.”
“It’s an amazing art institution.” Joon-sik nods. “Jungkook is into photography mostly, but he also dabbles in dancing from time to time. Paintertry, videography.”
You’re impressed and allow your eyes to glance at Jungkook. You wouldn’t take him for a man that dances, but you don’t wish to judge a book by its cover..
Jungkook chuckles lowly, a soft tint on his cheeks.
“That’s amazing.” your mother compliments and you want to scoff. She told you from her own mouth that pursuing art was a waste of time - but that couldn’t be said to the man she was pursuing.
“What are you into, Y/N-ah?” Joon-sik asks you.
“Y/N also into…art.” your mother giggles and gently taps your thigh. She doesn’t know what type of art, she hasn’t bothered to ask or appear interested.
You nod your head and your ears pick up on light chuckling.
You feel your body grow hot with embarrassment. Was he laughing at you?
“I see.” Joon-sik's smile doesn’t falter. “If you’d like,” he glances between you and Jungkook. “You can go to the same institution. I know people and getting you in wouldn’t be an issue.”
Your eyes widen and you turn to your mother. She slightly nods her head and you return your eyes to Joon-sik. “That would be amazing.” you respond.
Jungkook takes a sip of his drink and hums lowly to himself. His eyes flicker between you and your mother and he’s positive that you were nothing but a puppet and had been since your childhood; possibly even birth. You hadn’t had the chance to speak until now with permission.
“Now that introductions are out of the way.” Joon-sik raises his glass - a wine glass that had gone untouched since a server had poured it. “We have to tell the two of you something.”
You swallow.
Joon-sik grasps your mothers hands. “We’re getting married.”
You weren’t shocked at the news, but Jungkook stiffens visibly.
“And we’re moving in together!” your mother squeals.
That was new in a way. The men your mother dealt with never had children, and if they did you never met them. You moved from house to condo, apartment back to house throughout your life. But never with a “sibling” figure.
“That’s kind of fast.”
Jungkook’s voice is deep, but not shockingly so.
“It is.” Joon-sik agrees. “But I’m not as young as you, son. When you find the one…” he nods at your mother. “...you do what it takes to keep her.”
You’re uncertain how Jungkook feels. This wasn’t new to you. You dealt with your mothers shenanigans your entire life. However, you’re unsure how Jungkook spent his life. Was his mother involved unlike your father? Did Joon-sik have countless girlfriends, fiance’s and wives?
Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently.
“Y/N begged me for a sibling once upon a time.” your mother giggles. “Now you have a brother!”
You’re embarrassed once more but you don’t allow yourself to say anything.
Jungkook connects his eyes to yours. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, it’s pink and wet and you’re disturbed that you’re even watching it coat his lips.
“Step-brother.” Jungkook comments low and you’re positive it’s more to you than to your mother’s comment.
The large estate Jungkook and Joon-sik called home was massive and the biggest you’ve ever seen; and you’re seen a lot.
By the following month your mother and you had moved into the estate and called it your home.
The estate was so large that you rarely saw your mother - she and Joon-sik occupied the right side of the estate while you and Jungkook occupied the left. The two of you shared a kitchen and dining area, a large sitting area and you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom connected to your room. It was as if you had your own apartment away from your mother.
Your eyes follow the amount of cereal options displayed and hum. You were hungry and wanted nothing but a quick and light snack - you decided on cereal.
You decided on a box of marshmallow cereal. You grasp the box and pry it open, licking your lips with anticipation.
You’ve come to realize that everything in the estate was fit for a tall man such as Jungkook. The bowls are inside of a cabinet high up. You always need to climb the counter just to get it, which is what you do. Your knees are planted onto the cold marble counter tops and your hand reaches for the bowl when another one shoots out and grabs the same bowl you were reaching for.
You yelp in surprise, body turning until you’re seated on said countertop.
Jungkook stands behind you, dangerously close. He holds the bowl in his hands, eyes watching your face for a reaction.
You swallow.
“Good girl.”
You feel hot at his words, but you shake your head. “W-what?”
“Your nickname.” Jungkook mumbles. “Good girl suits you.”
Jungkook places the bowl beside you on the counter, but he doesn’t step away from you.
You open your mouth to speak, but you cannot release any response.
“You’ve been here for a month now and you do nothing but stay home.” Jungkook continues. He comes even closer and now, he’s directly between your legs. “You allow your mother to speak for you constantly. Even as an adult, you listen to her commands.”
You’re taken aback. Was Jungkook…reading you? He had met you a month ago at dinner and since then, had clocked everything that has happened in your life - and he kept it to himself until now.
“You’re a good girl that does what she’s told.”
Your eyes stare into Jungkook’s, neither eyes blinking. His words replay in your mind nonstop.
“Cat’s got your tongue?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Or do you need permission to speak?”
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond to your question.
“It’s easy for you to say.” you quip. “Your father lets you do whatever you want.”
Jungkook furrows a brow.
“You don’t have expectations to live up to.” you continue.
“Good girls talking back now.” Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. “Have you ever done anything she didn’t like?”
You don’t respond but instead ponder on his question.
No, you haven’t. Your mother was strict when it came to her rules and you’ve done your best to always obey them.
“That’s a no.” Jungkook snorts. “There’s a party tonight.”
You raise your brows at his words.
“At a college that a friend of mine attends. You should come.”
You have never been to a party like that. You’ve gone to birthday celebrations and business gatherings with your mother - to mingle, she says - but never to a college party.
Jungkook watches your face twist and contort in confusion. You were struggling and now he understands this is probably your first real party - not something your mother would be there for.
“Or do you need mother’s permission?” Jungkook teases.
You gulp, feeling your cheeks redden. He was teasing you and you didn’t like it.
“I don’t…have a way there.” you attempted to turn down his invitation.
“You can come with me.” Jungkook shrugs. “I want to introduce you to a few friends.”
Seems like you need them, Jungkook wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He never met anyone so sheltered before. Sure, he heard a mouth full from his father that he needed to become more “brotherly” towards you, but that didn’t mean his intentions were counterfeit.
“Would there be…” your words trail off and Jungkook waits for you to continue. “...drugs?”
Jungkook is silent at your question, but at your serious face and large curious eyes, he cackles.
“W-what’s funny?”
“You watch too much TV.” Jungkook laughs. “I don’t take drugs…but if you-”
“No!” you hiss with a head shake. “I don’t-”
“Relax.” Jungkook places his hands on your thighs - you're soft, he notes, bare thighs sitting against the counter. “No drugs. Alcohol and weed, yes. But there's water and other refreshments.”
You nod your head. You were skeptical of agreeing to this party. You and his friends had to be different and you were more than positive that Jungkook pitied you more than anything. But, this would possibly be your chance at a real college party. With drunk party goers and dancing with loud music - maybe even the police would come and shut it down because of how intense it would be.
“No.” your mother scoffs and walks around you. “We don’t do college parties.” she shakes her head once more. “How would that benefit you?”
You had gained enough courage to ask your mother for permission to go to a party. Jungkook had insisted that you didn’t need to because, of course, you were an adult. However, you had never gone against your mother before and there couldn’t be a reason for you to suddenly start now.
“Exactly.” your mother quips. “Instead of a party, why don’t you mingle with someone that can elevate you?”
You gulp at her words.
Your mother doesn’t dwell on the question and you don’t bother to answer. Nor do you bother to dwell on the party. You ate dinner alone in the large kitchen, not bothering to occupy the dining room.
You decided on a late night shower to hole up in your own misery. You should have listened to Jungkook when he stated that you didn’t need your mothers permission, but going against her terrified you. It peaked your anxiety that there would be a chance that you’d disappoint her.
A knock sounds at your door when you turn off the shower faucet. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer it, and Jungkook is standing behind it. His arms are crossed and he offers a slight smirk when you open the door. He’s sporting a dark shirt with a matching dark leather jacket. His jeans are light washes with rips at the knees with a pair of compact boots - you ponder if they’re the same one or a different pair.
“I’m glad you’re getting ready.”
You release a shaky breath.
Jungkook frowns. “Oh.” he hums. “Mother dearest said no.”
There’s a tone in Jungkook’s voice, you note. A teasing tone, a “I told you so” tone.
“I’m saddened, Good Girl.” Jungkook places a hand above his heart. “I told my friends that my step-sister will be making an appearance.”
You feel small beneath his gaze. Your hair is wet and droplets of water are dripping down onto the robe and onto the floor.
“I-I…I’m sorry.” you apologize, having nothing else to say.
Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t be.” he assures. “There’ll be more parties. This one was going to be at one of my friends' homes. Taehyung is his name.” Jungkook uncrosses his arms. “Well, goodbye Good Girl. I’m having the drivers take me now.”
Jungkook turns away from your door and you call after him. “You don’t drive?”
“Of course I do.” Jungkook calls back, not bothering to turn around. “But I don’t drink and drive, Good Girl.”
Jungkook’s words replay in your mind. He told his friends about you - that you’d be coming. You were amazed that you truly wanted to go to this party and see how people your age were. You didn’t have many friends, mainly acquaintances that your mother deemed “profitable”. You only ever had one boyfriend who, again, was chosen by your mother and that ended horribly.
You dry your hair and add a product, a leave-in conditioner so your hair wouldn’t become frizzy. You take a deep breath while adding lotion to your exposed skin while watching your reflection.
An hour had since gone past and you were tip-toeing outside of your room and outside of the estate. It was quiet and the sky was dark and starless. Your feet dragged you outside the estate and towards the large gates.
You knock on the large SVU window, the tints made it hard for you to look inside.
The window rolls down and an older man sits behind the wheel. He furrows a brow at you.
“Can you take me to…Taehyung’s house?” you ask, unsure how to ask the question without becoming more confused. “Where Jungkook is.”
“Get in.” the man nods his head and unlocks the door. You quickly got into the backseat and put your seatbelt on. Your heart is racing and your eyes watch the estate as if your mother would be coming out any moment.
You never snuck out of your home before. There wasn’t a reason to, not until now.
You were a young adult and cannot say you’ve gone to a party or had a taste of alcohol. Your mother assured you that you always appeared on guard, that someone was always watching even when you assumed they weren’t.
The drive pulls up to a large estate and now you feel even more out of place than before. Loud music is playing and hundreds of people are outside of the estate.
You thanked the driver and made your way towards the estate. You stood out like a sore thumb - you wore a loose fitted button up shirt and a skirt that stopped a few inches before your knees. The party goers dressed more scandalous than you and there was evidence of drinking. The girls swayed with the music while the men stood close behind them.
Your eyes trailed around for a familiar face - Jungkook didn’t appear to be anywhere.
You were just glad to be here, even after 30 minutes of not finding Jungkook. You held your cup of juice close to you and lightly nodded your head to the music.
“Good girl.”
Jungkook catches you from up the stairs. He was tipsy when he caught your figure - the only person dressed as if she was going to the library. He had left a drunk Jimin nodding off against the wall to make his way towards you.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, a sigh of relief releasing for your lips. “I…I made it.”
Jungkook snorts. “You did. Mother dearest decided to let you leave?”
You shake your head. You lift your head higher. “I snuck out.” you murmur, a sense of pride.
Jungkook fights back his laughter. He doesn’t want you to think he is laughing at you, because he’s not. Or he doesn’t want to, at least. But sneaking out to go to a party as a young adult appears completely childish. But here you stand, eyes shining with such mischief and delight that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel your excitement.
“What are you drinking?”
“Apple juice.” you raise the cup slightly. “I never had alcohol.”
“Never?” Jungkook raises a brow and whistles lowly. “You’re actually a good girl.”
It doesn’t take long for you to be drunk. Five shots to be exact. You were introduced to Jungkook’s friends, the majority of them already drunk and overly friendly. They were kind to you, speaking with you as if they’ve known you just as long as they’ve known Jungkook.
Jungkook doesn’t hide his laughter when it comes to you any longer. You’re loud - louder than he’s ever seen you be in the last month - and you appear happy. You let loose, no longer uptight and constantly checking to see if your mother is around the corner to scold you.
Ji-ah, a friend of Jungkook’s, wraps a hand around your wrist once she see’s you stumbling off. She’s tall with a slender build. Her hair is long and dyed a rose-gold color and you envied how confident she was upon meeting her.
“Where are you heading?” she asks. She’s drunk, but has enough liquor throughout the years to know how to function just fine.
“I have…to pee.” you sigh out and Ji-ah laughs.
“Follow me.” Ji-ah keeps your wrist in a firm hold. “I’ll transport you there safely.”
Ji-ah speaks as you’re peeing, her face in the mirror to check her makeup all the while you’re a few feet away. You met her tonight, as well, but she was comfortable enough to accompany you inside the large bathroom. She talks to you; so fast that you miss a few words - or sentences. But you’re just glad that you had to experience your first college party.
You’re washing your hands when Ji-ah asks you. “What do you think of Jungkook?”
Your mind is blurry and appearing to be in slow motion, yet fast paced.
“He’s cool.” you murmur to her, shaking your wet hands. “Hot.”
Your eyes widen dramatically at your words and at this, Ji-ah cackles. She’s seated on the bathroom counter and hops off of it to stand besides you.
“I won’t tell.” she winks and lifts her index finger to her lips. “Jungkook calls you good girl. Are you a virgin?”
Your cheeks redden but you shake your head.
“Ah,” Ji-ah moans. “You slut!”
You’re taken aback by her tone. Once more, Ji-ah cackles. “I’m just kidding.” she assures. “You reach slut status when you’re on my level.”
You blink a few times. “What’s slut status?”
“Depends.” Ji-ah responds. “What have you done sexually?”
You feel like you’re under a microscope at Ji-ah’s intense stare. “Okay. How about this,” Ji-ah leans against the counter. “I’ll ask yes or no questions.”
You nod.
You haven’t done a lot, Ji-ah notes, and she’s astonished that she’s met someone that hasn’t. She notes that you had a boyfriend who you lost your virginity to back in high school, but the things you’ve done with him were limited.
“So you went down on him but he didn’t do the same?” Ji-ah hisses with a head shake. “This is why I’m a lesbian now.”
Ji-ah had heard you speak of your past sexual adventures and needless to say, there wasn’t any adventure. Or excitement.
“You need to live a little.” Ji-ah exclaims. “Luckily for you, you and I are going to be best friends.”
Your eyes widen at her words. You never had a best friend, as sad as it was.
“And I can teach you the in’s and out’s of sex.” Ji-ah places both hands on your shoulders.
Jungkook opened every door in sight, not bothering to apologize if someone was behind it enjoying their privacy. You were gone and he had not seen you for close to an hour. You were obviously drunk - and already being an inexperienced, shy and naive person, you were bound to be taken advantage of. You were exposed to this world and if anything happened to you, he’d be ridden with guilt.
Jungkook pushes open another door and sighs in relief before knitting his brows.
Ji-ah and you were both seated on the floor of the large bathroom, lips placed upon one another.
“Are you two making out?” Jungkook asks, genuinely questioning. He didn’t know you were into women, yet Ji-ah also had a habit of having women in her grasp that never went that way.
You turn several shades of red and Ji-ah only giggles.
“I was teaching Y/N how to kiss.” Ji-ah declares. “Can you believe such a hot piece of ass has never had a good sexual experience?”
“J-Ji-ah!” you hiss. You were already embarrassed upon having Jungkook find you in such a position. You were positive that he thought you were nothing but a loser that hasn’t experienced the basic life like they had.
Jungkook flickers his eyes between you and Ji-ah. He was glad you’re okay and not (seemingly) taken advantage of. You were safe with Ji-ah and now he and you could go home before your mother found out.
“Good girl.” Jungkook places a hand for you to take. “Let’s go home before mother dearest comes searching for you.”
Ji-ah frowns.
“You have hundreds of girls here to kiss, Ji.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once he helps you up from the bathroom floor.
“I was just helping out your sister.” Ji-ah scoffs. “You men could never satisfy a woman like a woman can.”
You wish Ji-ah would shut up. Jungkook didn’t need to know anything else about your sex life - or lack of.
Jungkook snickers at Ji-ah, but he turns and takes a step out the door. “Step-sister.” was all he responded to her.
You and Jungkook stumble through the door. Your mother was asleep still and that was good - not like she would have noticed. She occupied the opposite end of the estate and you and she didn’t speak unless it was necessary. Still, your anxiety of her finding out lingered on your sober mind and only when you began to drink was when you felt safe.
Jungkook opens up the freezer and takes out a large tub of ice cream. He grasps two spoons from the cupboard and makes his way towards you. Opening it, he doesn’t hesitate in digging his spoon in and downing it.
“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asks after the third scoff of ice-cream.
You nod your head, humming when the cold sweet reaches your throat. “It was so much fun. I don’t really remember it all.” you scoff. It hasn’t even been a day yet and your mind is already hazy.
Jungkook chuckles. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ji-ah and her words. You didn’t look like the type to have sexual adventures - not like Ji-ah at least. But now he finds himself wondering what you did experience - he cannot imagine seeing you in such a way. You, a shy girl who blushes at everything and has to ask mother dearest for permission for nearly everything.
“What would mother dearest think if she found out you snuck out?”
“She’d kill me.” you respond without missing a beat. Of course not literally, but her wrath would be insane. It would bring out her disappointment in you and that’s not what you desired to experience.
“I see.” Jungkook places the spoon of ice cream in his mouth and swallows. “What if I told her?”
You freeze in your spot, eyes slowly lifting to Jungkook.
Your breath hitches.
“What?” you murmur.
“What if I told her you snuck out and got drunk?” Jungkook questions, voice deep and serious. You feel your heart beat outside your chest.
“Why would you?”
You were beginning to think that Jungkook and you could form a friendship. That the two of you could be close as he and his friends were, that maybe even his friends would soon be yours.
But that’s not what Jungkook wanted - that was never his intention.
Was his intentions were to trick you into sneaking out so he could blackmail you? To publicly embarrass you to your mother to see what she would do to you.
“I won’t tell your mother. But you’d be indebted to me.” Jungkook eats the sweet without hesitation. “And all debts must be paid in full.” says Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.
Of course, Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. He wouldn’t take advantage of you in the slightest - but he wanted you to live. He wanted to see the same woman he saw last night; the woman who laughed and danced without looking over her shoulders.
Jungkook also had no plans on telling your mother anything, but in order to see the you he saw a few hours prior, he would hold this “debt” over your head.
You inhale, dropping your spoon. Was Jungkook blackmailing you?
“I-I-”
”I want you to have fun and be a normal young adult. Come to more parties with me. Hang out with my friends and I. Stand up to mother dearest.” Jungkook explains. He didn’t need you thinking he wanted you to offer yourself to him in exchange for loyalty. “Live your own life the way you want to and not the way she does.”
You cross your arms, ears ringing as they replayed his words over and over again.
You enjoyed your time at the party. Jungkook’s friends were good people and Ji-ah appeared genuine and true to herself. For the first time, you felt content with going somewhere not having to mingle and social climb - to just be yourself and have fun.
“What do you say, good girl?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I know you had fun tonight. There’s always something to do.”
You slowly exhaled the breath you were holding. Jungkook’s words were convincing and he didn’t seem to be a bad person.
You nod your head in agreement and it causes Jungkook to smile. He nods his head. “Good. Starting first thing tomorrow.” he drops his spoon and claps his hand. “You should drink some water and get some rest. You might have a hang-over tomorrow.”
A hangover was correct. You woke up with your head pounding. Details of the night before replay in your head - the little you remembered. You decided that a hot shower would have to do the trick before you swallowed any medication. You were a mess, dried up saliva on your cheeks and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was a mess, appearing more like a bird's nest than anything.
The water was hot against your skin and it was exactly what you needed. Steam surrounds the bathroom and you begin to hum low to yourself as you lather your skin with body wash.
“Good girl.”
You yelp loudly at the words. Your eyes open to find Jungkook outside the shower - a standing shower with see-through doors. You go to hide your body, but there isn’t much to hide without a towel or curtain.
Jungkook is shirtless, arms crossed over his bare chest as his eyes rake your body.
“J-J-”
Jungkook makes his way closer to you and you feel yourself ready to die. He opens the door to the shower and pushes himself inside. He takes off the sweats he wore along with his underwear and throws them aside.
You push yourself away from him, your back hitting the cold stonewall of the shower.
“You’re such a beautiful, good girl.” Jungkook’s words murmur. He comes closer, his body getting just as wet as yours. “Such an innocent girl. Tell me, are Ji-ah’s words true?”
Jungkook’s hands reach out to you. He places both of them onto your shoulders, his chest against yours. He’s close, so close that you could feel the vibrations of his chest inhaling and exhaling.
“I…” your throat tightens at the closeness.
“Have you ever had an orgasm, good girl?” Jungkook asks you. “Has a man ever made you cum so hard you screamed and begged them to stop?”
Jungkook’s words are dirty. You feel hot being so close to the naked man. Jungkook’s hands begin to travel down, engulfing your bare breast. His thumbs play with your nipples as his palms grope them.
“Such lovely nipples.” Jungkook hums. “You have such a slutty body. Good girls like you always have the sluttiest bodies.”
Jungkook brings a nipple into his mouth and sucks. You moan out, the feeling of his teeth tugging at your nipple sends shockwaves through your body.
Jungkook is moaning now. His left hand lowers to between your legs, feeling your throbbing clit. He rubs at it at an alarming pace, but you don’t tell him to stop. You never felt a sensation like this before, you swear you can explode.
“Good girl.” Jungkook hisses, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. “My good girl. Say it.”
“Your good girl.” you moan out, eyes snapping close at the feeling.
“Good girl.”
Good girl.
Good girl.
“Good girl!”
You snap your eyes open, jolting out of your slumber.
Jungkook’s eyes are wider at the sudden outburst.
Your throat is dry, your head is pounding and you feel a sticky feeling between your legs.
Jungkook is holding a glass of water in his hands and a bottle of medication in another. He places them down on your nightstand.
“I tried knocking to wake you.” Jungkook says. “But you weren’t awake. You were tossing and turning when I walked in.”
You cough.
DId Jungkook hear you and your wet dream of him?
You felt sick to your stomach. You were a slut - an idiot slut to have such a dream of a man you barely know. Your soon to be step-brother at that.
“Thank you.” you murmur quietly to Jungkook. You take the water in your hands, trembling with nervousness.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions. “Did you have a bad dream?”
You wanted to laugh. Your dream was a bad one - as bad as a wet dream can be.
“Something like that.” you say after you take the pills. “I feel like I've been ran over by a truck.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Hangovers are always like that.” he places a hand on your forehead and you freeze. “Breakfast should cure your hangover. Ji-ah is coming over, too.”
Ji-ah. You remember the tall beauty of a friend Jungkook had.
“Maybe you and her can make out again.” Jungkook teases.
You widen your eyes in horror.
“Kidding!” Jungkook laughs, eyes squinting as he does so. “I’ll let you freshen up for breakfast.”
Jungkook makes his way out of your bedroom, but he stops at the doorway. “You sure you’re okay, good girl?” he asks you.
You nod your head, trying to smile for reassurance but you’re sure it came out more of a grimace.
Jungkook nods his head back at you before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. He would pretend - for your sake - to not know that you were moaning in your sleep, calling yourself his good girl.
Ji-ah lifts up a shirt to show you. “This is cute.” she says and you nod.
Two months had passed since your mother and you had moved in with Joon-sik and Jungkook. You had come out of your shell more when it came to Jook-sik. He was different from your mother’s last partners. He engaged more in your and Jungkook’s lives. He assured that there was a family dinner at least once a week where he’d often asked questions.
Ji-ah and you had become closer and you saw her nearly everyday after meeting her at the party. She would come over most nights and the two of you would talk and laugh for hours until Jungkook would infiltrate the scene.
Jungkook and you had also become close as friends. Most mornings you would come out of your room and stroll down the hall to find Jungkook cooking in the large kitchen. He would have two plates - sometimes more if his friends would be attending - set down on the island. If you weren’t eating dinner with your parents, he would bring in take-out and the pair of you would binge watch whatever tv show was on.
You tried to keep your mind at bay when it came to Jungkook. You couldn’t control your dreams, and the wet dream you had two months prior wasn’t the only one. It disgusts you each time you wake up sweating with the familiar wetness between your legs. Jungkook was attractive, of course, and that frightens you. There were too many times in which Jungkook would walk around without a shirt and it takes everything in you to not stare too long.
“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Ji-ah waves a hand in front of your face. “You’re spacing out.”
You blink a few times. Ji-ah has a handful of clothes in her arms - dresses, shirts with graphic designs and some crop tops and even the shortest shorts and skirts you’ve ever seen.
“Try these on.” Ji-ah pushes the clothing into your arms.
“I thought these were for you?” you exclaim.
Ji-ah shrugs. “We need to change up your wardrobe, Y/N. You promised.”
You sigh. You did promise that Ji-ah could add a few pieces to your wardrobe, but the amount of clothes she threw into your arms were more than a few pieces.
You and Ji-ah are the only two in the dressing room. You try on a few pieces, all in which Ji-ah forced you to do a walk and turn so she could see it fully.
You were growing exhausted after 30 minutes of trying clothes on. You took a seat inside the dressing room to take a quick break.
Jungkook takes a seat besides Ji-ah who’s gently tapping her foot waiting for you to come out.
“Jimin went to grab our tickets.” Jungkook says. “Are you two still shopping?”
Ji-ah nods. Her stomach churns and she stops tapping her foot to rub her stomach. “Shopping always makes me hungry.”
Jungkook snorts. “Tae’s at the food court. If you go now you’ll make it before he leaves the line.”
Ji-ah's eyes widen and within seconds she’s strutting out of the fitting room and out of the clothing store.
The door opens and Jungkook's eyes trail up to greet you.
“I think this skirt is too short.”
Jungkook hums, you have not noticed him yet. Your eyes were in the mirror. You wore a skirt - a short fitted skirt that hugs your body. Your shirt was just as tight fitted with a deep v-neck cut.
“What do you think about-”
You turn and freeze seeing Jungkook behind you where Ji-ah should be.
“I think it’s nice.” Jungkook responds. “Are you getting it?”
You feel small under Jungkook’s gaze.
“I-I’m not sure.” you respond. “It’s too…”
“Tight?” Jungkook snorts. “Mother dearest wouldn’t approve. More reason to get it.”
Jungkook stands from the chair in the fitted room.
“I don’t think I have anywhere to wear the clothes Ji-ah gave me to try on.” you admit with a short laugh.
Jungkook tilts his head. “I wasn’t going to go,” he begins. “But there’s a group performing at a club. You can wear it there.”
You widen your eyes slightly. “I never-”
“Been to a club.” Jungkook finishes your sentence. “Good girls don’t go to clubs.” he teases.
You rolled your eyes but you were offended.
“I guess I can go.” you say. “Are you sure it isn’t…to much?”
You didn’t want to be an odd one out. You weren’t one to show the amount of skin, and though your mind told you that you looked hot, you still felt conscious.
You turn to look back into the mirror.
“You women do that a lot. You over analyze everything until you no longer think you look good.”
Jungkook is behind you now. Your eyes connect with his in the mirror.
“Do you think you look good?” Jungkook questions.
You nod slightly.
“Say it.” Jungkook quips. “Gain that confidence. Say “I look good.”
“I look good.” you repeat robotically and Jungkook shakes his head.
“Say it like you mean it!”
“I look good.” you repeat, a little louder.
“Good. How good do you look?”
You inhale deeply before exhaling.
“I look…”
Jungkook waits for your response.
“...hot?”
“Is that a question?”
“I look hot!”
You do, Jungkook notes, but he doesn’t want to have his eyes linger on your breast in the reflection.
Jungkook's lips twitch in amusement. “That’s it.” he nods. “That’s my good girl.”
Those words cause you to freeze once more. Your eyes connect to Jungkook’s through the mirror. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but the both of you know the power of his words.
You gulp, flashbacks of the wet dream of you and Jungkook in the shower.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench at his words, but he’s unsure what he’s doing. He didn't forget you the following morning when he came into your room. You were a moaning mess, hair disheveled and voice low and raspy. “I’m your good girl.” replays in his mind over and over again that day - so much so that he had to pump his cock in the shower to just get his cock to deflate.
Ji-ah enters the fitting room loudly, munching on a large pretzel.
Jungkook and you push away from one another.
Ji-ah watches with a raised brow as neither of you say anything. You enter the fitting room and Jungkook excuses himself.
Ji-ah’s mind wanders and slowly, a smirk forms onto her lips, ideas flashing into her mind.
Jungkook downs the shot effortlessly, eyes wandering to the club entrance. You and Ji-ah had yet to arrive and the majority of the group was already tipsy. The music is loud and the lights are flashing non-stop. He sits at the bar with Namjoon and Hoseok, both men chatting amongst the group.
“Waiting for someone?”
The voice belongs to Taehyung that is shouting over the loud music. He leans against the bar, eyes following Jungkook’s line of vision. “Maybe that sister of yours?”
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Step-sister.”
Taehyung scoffs. “You say that a lot.” he notes. “Would it be weird if you did call her your sister?”
Yes, it would be- because Jungkook doesn’t constantly think about any of his family members like he does with you. You being his sister would mean he couldn’t jack off to the thought of you calling yourself his good girl anymore - no matter how creepy it sounded; because technically, you were asleep. His eyes couldn’t linger on the way you’d lick your lips or the slight way your breast would bounce when you’d laugh.
Damn, Jungkook was a creep. But it was only justified (slightly) because he doesn't consider you his sister.
“I met her three months ago.” Jungkook shrugs.
“True. But Y/N is always around.” Taehyung adds. “You two hit it off quickly.”
Jungkook agrees. You were slowly coming out of your shell and made friends with his friends. Ji-ah and you were growing closer by the day and he was thankful that you didn’t shut down completely with her outgoing personality.
But, that’s all you and Jungkook could be - friends. He couldn’t allow his desires and intrusive thoughts to take advantage of your shyness and naivety.
“So you don’t think of her as a sister?” Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook. “So it would be okay for me to…dance with her?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes glance at Taehyung's face that’s illuminating in the light. His eyebrows are raised, waiting for an answer.
Jungkook lowly hums to himself. Was Taehyung interested in you? Were you interested in Taehyung? Did Taehyung ever make advances on you before?
“Are you asking for my permission?” Jungkook questions. “Y/N is her own person.”
Taehyung nods. “She is. But she is also someone who you introduced to us in the guise of her being your sister.”
“Step-sister.” Jungkook murmurs.
“Yes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “So as your friend and she as your step-sister. Would you be alright if I danced with her?”
Jungkook wanted to say no. That you were far too innocent for the likes of a Taehyung - someone who had girls in his bedroom nearly every night and never settled for a relationship. But that would make him a hypocrite. He also brought home women from time to time and rarely thought of seeing any of them as more than a simple fuck.
“Do as you please.” Jungkook shrugs and Taehyung offers him a boxy smile.
“I’m going to talk to her now.” Taehyung points towards the door and Jungkook's throat tightens. He instantly regrets his decision to be nonchalant.
Ji-ah and you had just gotten through the door. You sported a short tight dress, stropping at your thighs. It was black as were the heels you were wearing that tied perfectly up your calf. Your hair was in a ponytail, brushed back so smooth that no flyaway would be present.
Jungkook feels his heart tighten when your eyes catch him and soon you’re strutting over to him.
You don’t make it. Taehyung has gotten to you first.
“What do you think?”
“Huh?”
Ji-ah has taken a seat beside Jungkook and had been for the last ten minutes. She watched as Jungkook seethed as he stared at a laughing Taehyung who tried to get you to dance with him.
“Does she look hot?” Ji-ah wiggles her eyebrows. “Took me almost an hour to get her into that dress.”
Jungkook looks away from you. “Good. I guess.”
Ji-ah sighs. “It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to her.”
Jungkook’s head snaps to Ji-ah. “Who-”
“I’m not an idiot.” Ji-ah interrupts with a wave of her hand. “The sexual tension between the two of you are killing me. I say fuck and get it over with.”
Ji-ah was always blunt.
“You’re insane.” Jungkook hisses.
“You’re insane for letting Taehyung beat you to it.” Ji-ah retorts. “But what do I know?”
Jungkook bites his lip. What did Ji-ah know? You surely talked to her about your former sex life. Have you talked to her about him? Did you have the same intrusive thoughts as he did?
“What do you know?” Jungkook caves and Ji-ah smirks.
“I know enough.” Ji-ah shrugs.
Jungkook seethes.
“I know our little good girl thinks you’re hot.”
Jungkooks eyes widened.
“But she’s far too afraid to act on her attraction.” Ji-ah groans. “I’m sure she thinks it’s taboo.”
Jungkook swallows. You thought he was hot - that was a start.
“That’s all you’re getting from me. Girl code.” Ji-ah stands from her bar stool. “Jimin and Taehyung are coming. Jimin’s fucked. I’m not going to be on babysitting duty.”
Jungkook groans as a drunk Jimin sits beside him, slurring his words.
“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Taehyung questions, a look of sorrow on his face. Taehyung was put to be the “sober” one of the group tonight. Jimin was already drunk and Hoseok was close behind him. “I’m taking him home and coming back.” he curses beneath his breath at his unlucky night.
But for Jungkook, this was his lucky night. Taehyung was gone and now you wouldn’t be another one of the women who he brought into his bedroom.
“Good girl.” your ears catch the voice instantly, even with the loud music. “I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”
Jungkook is behind you when you turn. You smile and nod your head. “Where has everyone gone?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Jimin is done for the night and Hoseok is on his way there.” he snorts. “Ji-ah is probably looking for someone to makeout with as we speak.”
Jungkook comes closer to wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Shot?”
Ji-ah claps her hands together, Taehyung and Jimin huddled in the corner with her. “Okay, the first part of the plan is in motion.”
Jimin nods as does Taehyung.
“I’m not really sure what the plan is.” Jimin adds. All he recalls is Ji-ah texting him to act drunk and he’s done that part thus far.
“Ugh, you didn’t fill him in?!” Ji-ah snaps at Taehyung.
“I thought you were doing that!” Taehyung snaps back. “This was your plan after all.”
Ji-ah sighs in frustration. It was her plan - to get you and Jungkook to hook up. If anything else blossomed after that - like a relationship or even a “friends with benefit” (or step-siblings with benefits) - then it’d be a win-win for the both of you. Jungkook was attracted to you, even if he would never admit it aloud. You had already admitted your attraction towards Jungkook, but your shyness and obliviousness would get you nowhere without her help.
“She’s trying to get Kook and Y/N to fuck.” Taehyung explains vulgarly. Jimin widens his eyes. “Oh.” he hums. “Is that why he was giving you death eyes earlier?”
Taehyung nods with a cackle.
“Idiots to lovers.” Ji-ah shrugs her shoulders. “They’ll never get there without my help, of course.”
“Are you sure we’re not just interfering?” Jimin questions. “I mean, they are step-siblings who have to see their parents in a relationship.”
Ji-ah shrugs. “They aren’t related nor were they raised together as brother and sister. I say they fuck and get it out of their systems.”
Jimin nods in agreement.
“What’s the other part of the plan?”
Plan B - get both parties tipsy - not drunk. You were looser when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. You danced freely like no one was watching and you were more social. Jungkook was already there but you needed to match his cool.
Ji-ah poured you two shots after shots until she noticed your flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. That was her cue to disappear again into the corner of the room with Taehyung and Jimin.
“I think Hobi and Joon are actually drunk.” Jimin notes, eyes flickering to the dance floor where both men were dancing - Namjoon appearing more disorientated.
“Shit.” Taehyung hisses. “I’m on sober duty.”
“Plan B is in fruition!” Ji-ah cheers. “We can leave them be. If anything happens tonight I can pry it out of Y/N tomorrow.”
“So that’s it?” Jimin ponders aloud.
“Yes. We let them do them for now.” Ji-ah takes her phone out of her crossbody purse. “I’m telling them we’re leaving to take the drunklings home. The rest is up to them.”
“I hope they’ll be okay.” you say to Jungkook after receiving the message from Ji-ah.
“They do this all the time. Get drunk and act a fool.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry if this isn’t the night you expected.”
You shake your head. “I’m having fun!” you declare. Your eyes wander to the sea of people dancing without a care.
“You should go dance.” Jungkook says. “No one is going to be watching you like your mind tells you.”
You don’t feel nervous as you once were. Your body is hot thanks to the alcohol in your system and your mind is repeating Jungkook’s words.
“Dance with me.” you say, getting up from the stool and making your way towards the dance floor.
Jungkook follows you. The flashing lights illuminate your skin and he finds it difficult to take his eyes away from you. The music is energetic and it’s easy for you to follow the floor of everyone else's dance moves.
It was fun, you note, dancing with Jungkook. The both of you laughed as you nearly tripped on your heels and he had to catch you swiftly. You would take your hands in his and bring him closer, especially when the area became stuffed with even more people - all dancing carefree.
You’re close to Jungkook, so close that you can smell his cologne mixed with another smell.
“You smoke?” you shout at him and Jungkook nods hesitantly.
Jungkook had smoked before he came alongside Taehyung.
“Have you ever smoked?” Jungkook leans down to say into your ears, but he knows the answer. Mother dearest would never allow you to smoke.
You shake your head and suddenly, Jungkook’s mind wanders. “Do you want to try?”
You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook rolls the greenish purple substance onto the small paper. You and he sit on his bed as he does so. The club was long forgotten about and there wasn’t a need to stay when you were offered to smoke - it felt scandalous in a way.
Jungkook brings out a lighter and passes you what he had just rolled. “You can try first.” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.
You’re nervous, palms sweaty and heart pounding with excitement. Jungkook places the joint between your lips and lights it. “Inhale.”
You do as you’re told, and suddenly you’re a coughing mess.
Jungkook cackles. “First time is rough for everyone.” he assures.
Your throat burns and it’s difficult to stop yourself from coughing. Luckily, Jungkook was preparing for this. He recalls his first time smoking and how he was sure he was going to die.
Jungkook hands you a water bottle that sat on his bedside table. You down the water hastily, moaning in satisfaction as it heals your throat.
“Better?”
You nod, but your throat burns still. But you’re glad Jungkook allows you to smoke with him. You watch as Jungkook smokes, inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with ease - no coughing or choking like you had. You wonder just how long he’s been smoking for but you don’t ask.
“Want to try again?” Jungkook passes you the joint, raising his eyebrows. “This time try not to inhale so hard.”
You do as you’re told and you’re surprised to find that you do not end up coughing as hard as you had.
Jungkook and you take turns smoking until the joint is gone. You lay beside him on his bed, feeling euphoric and free. Your anxiety is long gone and you remain relaxed. This feeling was not the feeling you thought being high was like - and you were certain you’d want to feel this way again.
The bed shifts and you’re finally remembering where you’re at. You turn on your side to face Jungkook, who had already turned to face you.
Jungkook studies your face. Your eyes are slightly red and low. You look tired and ready to sleep at any moment but your eyes blink constantly to not do so. You were having fun - even if it was just relaxing and not doing anything in particular.
“I’ll have to give you a new nickname.” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve corrupted your good girl image ever since we became friends.”
You giggle. “I can still be your good girl.” you say without a thought. It goes past you, but not Jungkook.
“My good girl.” Jungkook hums. He likes how it sounds, but he’ll blame his intoxication for now. “Tell me…”
You feel a hand upon your cheek and your eyes open slightly wider.
“Is what Ji-ah said true?”
You’re unsure which part Jungkook is speaking of. You’re said a lot to Ji-ah and only could imagine what she’s told him.
“That you’ve never had a good sexual experience?”
You mentally curse at Ji-ah. You almost forgot that she had told him at Taehyung’s party.
You slowly nod your head. There wasn’t a point in denying it. It had to be obvious - hell you never touched a drink until recently. How would you know how to pleasure a man the correct way or had a great sexual experience?
Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He’s silent for a few moments, possibly pondering on his next statement.
“Has anyone ever touched you?”
You release a shaky breath. You want to pinch yourself to see if this was another dream, but you’re positive that you have not fallen asleep.
You shake your head.
Jungkook halts outlining your lips with his thumb.
“So you don’t know what cumming feels like.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Ashame.”
You and Jungkook are close - so close that you can hear him breathing.
“Have you ever made someone cum?”
Jungkook likes you like this. You aren’t shying away from him in embarrassment.
“Of course.”
You lick your lips. You’re unsure where the two of you were going with this. This isn’t a conversation you should be having with him, but it’s as though you’re paralyzed.
“How’d you do it?”
Jungkook leans closer. “I could show you.”
You gasp lightly. The room is completely silent and still. Jungkook and you are even closer, nose touching as you and he speak.
“Push me away.” Jungkook commands suddenly. “If you’re uncomfortable…push me away.”
Jungkook wasn’t sober, but he was coherent enough to know right from wrong. You were clearly under the influence more than him and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was taking advantage of you.
Your hand clenches Jungkook's shirt and you push your lips upon his. It causes Jungkook to flinch as if you burn him, but he doesn’t dwell on his shock. He deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He can taste a bit of alcohol on you, but he doesn’t mind.
The kiss becomes hotter - more dominant. Your tongue dances along his and you can say you feel content. This feeling was euphoric and unreal - a feeling you never wish to end.
“Let me make you cum.” Jungkook heaves when the kiss is broken. His tone is needy - he was begging you. He wanted to feel you, to taste you. He desired to watch you cum undone because of him - for your first time.
“O-Okay.” you agree.
Jungkook and you continue to kiss. His hands trail lower and lower until they reach the hem of your dress. Your dress is already dangerously short so it doesn’t take him long to reach his hand upward inside your dress and feel the cotton underwear you wore.
“My good girl’s already wet.” Jungkook breaks the kiss to moan into your ear. Your underwear was soaked through and he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch you the way he wanted yet.
Jungkook rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. He needed you to be comfortable first.
You moan, buckling your hips against his fingers. You bite your lip just as Jungkook trails kisses along your neck.
“I’m going to make you cum.” Jungkook nibbles into your neck, biting and sucking gently on the skin.
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dip into your underwear. He moans along with you when he touches your wet clit - how could you be this wet already? He shivers. The thought of you being this wet excites him. He ponders how it would feel if his cock rubbed against your bare pussy - how it’d feel if he fucked you into oblivion.
Jungkook’s fingers stroked your clit. He was becoming rougher with how he handled you. His free hand yanks your dress down so that a breast could fly it. He catches a nipple into his mouth, suckling on it like a madman. He had a desire to do so since you strolled into the club with such slutty attire.
You arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook showed your nipple no mercy, nor did he show any to your clit. He rubbed at a ferocious pace and sucked and nibbled on your breast. The scene before you felt dirty and taboo - but you didn’t want him to stop. You had never felt so great in your life.
“I’m going to fuck my good girl with my fingers.” Jungkook grunts, fingers already dipping inside of you. “You’re so wet that they fall easily inside.”
Jungkook’s dirty words mixed with his deep voice is music to your ears.
Jungkook pumps his fingers inside of you. Your pussy squelches as he does so, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind right now is getting you to cum all over him.
“How does my good girl feel?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper.
“I…I feel good.” you moan out. Your stomach feels tight and you feel as if you’re about to explode. “I feel something coming.”
Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re about to cum.” he says to you. “Let go. Cum all over me, good girl.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You’re breathing heavily and Jungkook shows no signs of stopping until you’re cumming.
You do, a gush of liquid squirting out and onto Jungkook’s wrist and bed. You’re jolting, cursing lowly under your breath all the while attempting to catch your breath.
Jungkook revels in the sight of you squirting all over him. You were truly a beautiful sight - so innocent and new to this life. He wants to make you cum over and over again - but there will always be a next time.
Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and brings them into his mouth. He licks them and sighs, wishing he could sink his cock into you right now.
“Let’s go to sleep.” you hear Jungkook say. “My good girl looks tired after cumming so hard.” he teases but you don’t have it in you to deny the slumber that consumes you.
#btswritingcafe#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#step siblings au#bts step sibling#btswritersclub#btswriterscollective#bts writing#trivia-yandere#paid in full#bangtanwriters net#bangtanwritershq#bangtan smut#jungkook fic#jungkook step brother
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Doodle of these two in my personal little AU.
Bonus:

#art#fanart#au#transformers au#MTO#Made To Order Soldiers#tf windblade#windblade#transformers windblade#starscream#tf starscream#transformers starscream#ulchtar#Ulchtar and Windblade aren’t technically siblings#but im treating them like siblings in this au#they’re part of the ten step program#for now#Starscream studies hard but she somehow gets the better grade
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And just like that we are done lol. I had to actually redraw the final page becaue the OG sketch was a hot mess express. That and my art improved like over the 3 months between the last pages to this one. SO ENDS SHACKLED KING: BEGINNINGS. The next chapter will begin after I've sufficently scripted it out so I don't fumble with the plot like I did last time. A Master Post likely will be made sometime in the near future. Now we just see what goes on from here I'm sorry to those who are on tumblr who read this comic. I'm way more active on my other socials because Tumblr's algorithm seems to hate both my art and my guts. Aw well. PREVIOUS TOP- Coming soon! つづく
#hollow knight oc#hollow knight#hollow knight art#hollow knight au#the hollow knight#hk hornet#Honestly though image your shock seeing your sibling step out of their containment and they look worse for wear.#How do you explain this to your new sibling you just picked up from a tribe of bees#Hornet has a lot of explaining to do
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I think as a fandom we should explore background characters more
I think we should ship Ms. Curtis x Mr. Curtis x Ms. Mathews
Thankyou.
#Mathews/curtis step sibling au#this ship came from the darkest corners of my brain#the outsiders#the outsiders 1983#the outsiders 1990#the outsiders musical#the outsiders book#sodapop curtis#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade#darry curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#brenda mathews#mr curtis#ms curtis#ms Mathews
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Hopping on the swap AU train with my personal favourite swap I’ve seen: Young Neil and Stacey.
#the reason why Neil has flowers as his last name now is because in the swap au panel edits by @mischaqueen#they make ramona and neil step siblings which I think is pretty fun#I also gave Neil one of those late 70s mobile phones (this is a real thing I’m not kidding a bbc kids show from the era had a segment#about it)#it’s because I didn’t want to have the phone chord going nowhere#also Stacey’s shirt is a combo of Neil’s comic panel shirt and the Mario star shirt she wears in volume 2#also also continuing my style experimentation#scott pilgrim#scott pilgrim comic#scott pilgram takes off#young neil#neil nordegraf#stacey pilgrim#swap au#role swap au
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