#I glaze over a few things | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 11 months ago

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❝ 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 ❞

❝ BEING PROF. GETO'S T.A. IS SO HARD BECAUSE HE'S SO HOT!! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part two of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you're now professor geto's t.a. for the semester, forced to spend time with the man that you so desperately want, either of you barely able to hold back when you're around the other, so what happens when you're forced to go to a conference with him...and there's only one bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (mostly fantasy), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student in my mind, but age is vague, so much mutual pining, bed sharing, cuddling, masturbation (f + m), oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), semi public sex (sorta), office sex (kinda), amateur's take on moral philosophy and ethics, art by @/nino84391425

✧ wc: 16,821 (apparently i am writing a novel lol) | part one | part three | part four

“On time for once?” Professor Suguru Geto remarks without looking up from his notes on the podium, even as your footsteps echo in the empty lecture hall, “color me surprised,”

“Couldn’t be late on my first day as a teacher’s assistant, now could I?” and his lips curl in that damnable smile, as he finally glances up from his notes to see you looking far too gorgeous in his button up — one you had oh so generously relieved him of last night, pilfered away in your bag seemingly.

“But you could be late on your first day as a student?” and you lick your lips, as you draw closer to him, “seems like you’re quite the hypocrite, not very ethical,”

“Don’t think what we did last night was very ethical either,” you murmur, enjoying the way his dark eyes glaze over for a moment with the thoughts what you both did — the places touched, the moans heard, and the pleasure had — “plus, I definitely have an incentive to be on time now,” your fingers graze his, and why does his touch always feel like coming home.

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, running the back of his hand against your cheek.

“Your gorgeous face,” you smile, leaning close as your lips brush, “and some stolen kisses before class,”

“And what makes you think you’ve earned them, my favorite student?” He teases, as his fingers slide to the back of your neck, and his other hand snakes around your waist, tugging you close.

“Oh, I have a few ways to earn them, Professor,” your fingers drag down his chest, “but I don’t know if we have the time before class to—“

And his lips find yours — needy and bruising, as your fingers clutch at his shirt, the pressed fabric now definitely creased under your touch, “we’ll make time,” he murmurs, as he leans back to drag his thumb down your plush lips, “I still have many things to teach you, and what time is there like the present?”

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to your lips—

RING. RING. RING.

Your eyes snap open, a groan crawls its way out of your throat, as you fumble for your phone to silence the dreaded ringing. You lie back on your bed, a distinct ache between your legs that makes you squirm, and only want to bury yourself back into your bed and possibly the reality that existed within only your dreams.

But this was sadly reality, and you had about two hours before your first class as a teacher’s assistant for Professor Suguru Geto’s ethics and moral philosophy class. And two hours before you would see Professor Geto for the first time since you had made out.

You turn over, pressing your face into your pillow. You wondered if you tried hard enough, if you could suffocate yourself before then.

Probably not. That would be far too lucky.

~~~

Professor Suguru Geto couldn’t sleep — instead he spent his time staring at his ceiling, the blades of his fans spinning above him, just like his mind was — in circles. It was as if he almost didn’t want to risk his dreams taunting him, it was the same reason he had buried himself in research over the semester break, the same reason he had put off emailing you the materials for the semester, and the same reason he hadn’t seen you since that day you had kissed.

It was too much of a risk.

You were risk personified, even for a risk averse theologian he liked to think himself as. But you were the thing of myths, the dangled food for Tantalus, the far too warm sun for Icarus, and the promise of gold for King Midas. But you were not a myth — you were real, his student made of flesh and bone, the same flesh he had pressed into his desk just a few short weeks ago, his legs parting your thighs, his fingers itching to rip your pantyhose off your legs—

He sighed, this wasn’t helping — his bedside clock blinked back at him mockingly — he only had a few hours before his first class. He should try to sleep even a little. So he did, shutting his eyes, and hoped he wouldn’t dream of you.

But he couldn’t possibly be that lucky.

How many times have you stood in front of this office door? Your Professor, to which this office belongs, would joke that it was far too many to count — and you’d be better speculating how many times that Sisyphus rolled the boulder up the same hill. But the last time you had been in it was the thing that made you hesitate now.

But that was your entire relationship wasn’t it? A game of chicken, wondering who would hesitate first — and neither of you were the type to hold back. Except when it came to this — except when it came to your feelings for the other.

You shake your head, trying to shake your anxious thoughts free of their eternal bounce around your skull, and grit your teeth before finally knocking.

“I’m actually right here,” a voice behind you says, making you jump, as you whip around, nearly pressed against his office door. And now you stood face to face with the man who owned it.

And how was it that every time you saw him, he was achingly more perfect than the time before? His ebony hair was half down, black locks brushing against his shoulders, the rest tied up in a neat bun. A crisp white button up underneath a neutral toned knit sweater vest, the shirt very much like the one you had stolen in your dream.

Perfect.

“Professor Geto,” you offer a small smile, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, instead of drifting over his form, “it’s good to see you,”

“It’s good to see you as well, and so prompt,” he says, brushing past you to unlock his office, “made a habit of being on time these days?”

“Well, when your professor reprimands you in front of the entire class, you try to make a habit of being on time,” why did it feel like your dream was repeating yet again? It’s not as if your relationship with him wasn’t cyclical enough — life imitating dreams was almost far too much. He opens the door for you, letting you enter first, before he follows you in, “and aren’t you the late one this time?”

His lips quirk, as he rounds his desk, and takes a seat, “You really can’t make it a conversation with me without giving me shit, huh?”

“Language,” you chide, as you sit across from him, “not very appropriate for an academic setting,” and you have to bite back the want to say that you’ve done plenty of inappropriate things in this office the last time you both were here.

“Well, our track record isn’t known for being very appropriate, now is it?” Or maybe you didn’t need to say it, because the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. But that didn’t mean either of you would act on it. He licked his lips, mouth parted to say something, his gaze heavy.

And the moment is broken when his email goes off — you squeeze your bag a little tighter, as you busy yourself with digging through your bag for the materials to go over. That sound was nearly traumatizing in this office, not only did it usually signal the start of some assignment you had to trudge your way through — it also was the sound that had ended your relationship before it even really began.

“Class starts in an hour, so I thought we could have this meeting just to review the syllabus and see if you have any questions — as well as just overall any questions you had about being a T.A.,” he explains, pressing his pen to his lips, “I understand this is your first time being a T.A.?”

“It is, I hadn’t really considered it until the department head approached me about that,” and he nods, a flash of emotion that surfaces for only a moment before dissipating, “what will my responsibilities be?”

“Good question,” a smile pulls the corners of his lips, “obviously, as a T.A., you will have office hours that you can decide with your own discretion—”

“So it’s okay if I have them once a month at 3:00 AM?” and he rolls his eyes as you bite your lip at the sight — why was everything he did so effortlessly attractive?

Fucking unfair.

“Witching hour, how apt,” he murmurs, as he tilts his head, “but they should be weekly, as I’m sure you know, and held not in the middle of the night, when nights should be used for other things,” and you have to bite back your reply, like what?

And then he continues to explain, “You can also help with some grading — mostly entering grades online for me since you know I love to handgrade,”

“Oh yes, truly enjoyed having my self-esteem cut to shreds after receiving a paper back,” you scribbled notes down in your notebook, “glad I won’t be on the receiving end this time,”

“If you’re good, that is,” and you knew it slipped from his lips — from the way his lips parted, the way his body froze for half a second as if he had shocked himself — and he had, because the spark between you two remained, a weed stubbornly cracking through concrete, “sorry—’

“You don’t have apologize,” you shake your head, waving him off, “it’s really fine,”

“It’s not,” he said softly, placing the syllabus down on the desk, “I know we agreed to keep our relationship professional,”

“We did,” Yes, you both did — sort of.

“And I want us to do that—”

And you ask the question you weren’t brave enough to ask the last time you two had seen each other, “Why is that again?”

When the email had come, it was as if a spell had broken — the rosy colored lenses had come off, only to leave the hard glare of reality behind. Your limbs still entangled while you both reread the email off of his screen — as if it would say something different the millionth time over.

It didn’t.

And then the awkward clamor of disengaging, slow limbs pulling apart, as the warmth of his embrace left as quickly as it had come. Silence as the two of you let the news settle in, like a noose tightening around your necks, and you slowly slid off his desk.

“If I’m your T.A.,” you had said slowly, adjusting the skirt of your dress, “we can’t do this, can we?” and he had only nodded, his gaze unable meet yours, fixed to the rug on the floor of his office, and he could only muster two words as you brushed past him and gathered your things—

“I’m sorry.”

But even so, you couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea? Why was it so wrong for the two of you to do this? What difference did it make that you were his T.A.? It was still against the rules either way — it was still unethical either way — so why, why did it matter?

But he knew why, from the way his brow creased with lines and his lips pursed and the way his eyes yet again couldn’t quite reach yours — as if you’d spot something in them that he didn’t want to see.

“Because we’re going to working together all semester long, with students in class who will see us each week,” he licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, “because it was already problematic if we saw each other without any classes or connection, but now — if you’re my T.A. and my girlfriend, how would I even properly supervise you?” and he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as he blows air through his teeth, before his voice grows softer, “how would I focus on guiding you and our students if I’m too busy gazing into your eyes or staring at your lips or wanting to—” he cuts himself off, “you know it’s not a good idea, most of our students probably wouldn’t notice, but rumors spread and it takes one good rumor to ruin your career,” and he adds, “with how things work, you don’t need me to tell you why it would be worse for you than me, even if I tried to take responsibility,”

And you did know, knew very well that rumors got out that the two of you were together that nothing would happen to his reputation — perhaps he would be scrutinized a bit more, some judgment and side-eye from other professors and higher ups, but he wouldn’t get vilified like you would. Called a slut or a whore — and those would be some of the kinder names you’d be called, and you can’t imagine what it would do for your career, especially if you stay in academia. And then the rumors would fester and grow, more wondering where your grades came from — whether you had obtained them through honeyed words whispered over pillows and rumpled sheets instead through late nights spent at your desk and weekends practically living at the library.

“I do know,” you said quietly. But it didn’t mean you wanted to do it anymore than you had that day. A part of you wished he had stopped you when you had turned to leave his office, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into his arms—but this was hardly a romance novel, “and you’re right,”

He still has his gaze fixed anywhere but your face, settling his syllabus on his desk now, the silence familiarly filling the room yet again, muscles tense if your body didn’t know whether to flee or to draw closer.

So you did neither, and instead broke the silence.

“So would T.A.-ing provide an opportunity for me to teach the class?” and he blinks, eyes snapping up now, as a glimpse of sadness slips away behind his now thoughtful expression.

“Would you want to do that? I don’t know if I could allow you to lead an entire class, only because some students may take some issue with another grad student teaching them—”

“I don’t blame them with the tuition costs,” you mutter, and he nods, “don’t nod, it’s your salary I’m paying for,”

He laughs, a noise you wished you could bottle because you knew it’d be the same as bottling happiness, “Well worth your money after how much your writing and understanding of moral philosophy and ethics has improved,” and you roll your eyes.

“I see your ego is the same as ever,” and his lips curl, as he crosses his legs, and you fight the cruel temptation of your gaze flickering a little downward.

“Well, Kant did say an ego is necessary to understand the world meaningfully and therefore act in a moral way,” you tilt your head, being defensive with philosophy? That was a new one.

But you weren’t one to let things go — as he very well knew.

“And he also said that an ego can lead you astray from living a moral life if we become too self absorbed,” and he raises an eyebrow.

“Are you calling me self absorbed?”

You bite back a laugh, “Well, you are certainly self interested,” and you gesture around his office, “look at this office,”

“What about my office?” he gapes at you, and you snort, you’ve seemingly struck a nerve by how wide his jaw dropped.

“It’s a little…pretentious,” and dare you say it, your professor had a touch of pink painted across his cheekbones and the tips of his ears,

God he’s even pretty when he blushes.

“I’m just teasing Professor,” and then you add, “it’s one of my more tedious qualities,”

And he blinks, before his lips curl in the smile you never tired of seeing, “not tedious, more irritating,”

You chuckle, before trying to get back on topic, “So you think you could work out me teaching a part of the class?”

And he nods, “Let me discuss it with the department head — it should be fine,”

“Do I have any other responsibilities?”

“If it doesn’t conflict with your schedule, you can also attend some classes, students can stay after and ask you questions as well,” and you nod, looking over his class times in the syllabus.

“I can make the Tuesday one,” and he makes a note, as you rise, “we should go. Don’t want to be late for the first class now do we?”

And he smiles the same damnable smile, “That would be a terrible first impression,” and his shoulder brushes yours as he opens his office door for you, “after you,”

God, you thought as you stepped past him, the warmth from the brush of his body still there, this was going to be a long semester.

If there was one thing you had learned from being a teacher’s assistant for Professor Geto’s class, it was that the students were even more desperate for your professor’s attention than you had thought. You thought your introduction had went relatively well — besides the pointed glares of several….enthusiastic students.

After his detailed overview of the class, he reaches the resources section of the course syllabus, “Now, I am available at my listed office hours, in which you can make an appointment online. There’s also tutoring services through the university listed as well. And lastly, we have a T.A. for this class, for the very first time,” and he smiles, “Class, please meet your T.A. for this semester,” Professor Geto says your name and gestures to you, sat up in the corner of the lecture hall, and you stand, waving, “your T.A. took this very class last semester and showed great grit and dedication in the class assignments,” you have to stop yourself from shooting him a look, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips, “She is also a philosophy student, so please, feel free to reach out to her,”

“Thank you Professor Geto for that…generous introduction,” your pause was slight enough that he caught it, a smile tucked behind an all too fake cough, “I really look forward to working with you all — this class truly had a great impact on my perspective about the world,” and you catch a flicker of an emotion ripple across his face out of the corner of your eye, “my office hours will be posted soon, and I hope we can get to know each other well over the course of this semester.”

You sit as the students cast their gaze forward again, and the class continues on as usual. You make use of your time by reading for some of your other classes, until class was over.

And that’s when you really learned something. As requested, you joined Professor Geto at the bottom of the lecture hall to help field questions from the students.

Except, the students were far more interested in Professor Geto than they were in the course material.

But maybe it was simply because it was the beginning of the semester right? It couldn’t happen again right?

It was a good thing you weren’t getting graded because you would earned yourself a zero. As again, the next week, students were only interested in Professor Geto — whether it was because it was for his intellect or — you glanced at the students mooning over him — something else.

Something you knew very well.

You were forced to watch a female student flutter her eyelashes, then another brush against him, as she showed him what passage was confusing her, and then another student couldn’t stop staring at his lips. And then you wonder, if it had been another student who kept pestering him week after week, would it have been them instead of you? Would they have shared those moments together? Maybe even they would actually gotten to be in a relationship, instead of watching other people flirt with him—

“Excuse me,” your eyes snap up from your reverie and you see two students, seemingly waiting to speak to you.

Those students had seemingly taken pity on you and spoke to you about the class, tips, and asked about your office hours. But soon enough, the students filed out one by one until it was just you and Professor Geto. And he’s collecting his things, as he glances at you, lingering still as you check your email on your phone, “Don’t you have class after this?”

You blink, “how’d you know that?”

And he’s straightening his notes to place back in his bag, before he turns to look at you over his shoulder, “well you’d always rush off after class so it was either you had class or you didn’t want to be alone with me,” he looks back to his bag and you hear the click of the zipper, “I was hoping it would be the former,” he adds.

“Well, I never lingered after class when I was taking it either,” you adjust your bag, toying with the strap — why was it anytime you were with him it felt like stepping into quicksand, the more you struggled, the more you sunk — and even if you didn’t move at all, you were still stuck all the same, “didn’t want to get in the way your students stroking your ego,”

And he raises an eyebrow, “Are we back to my ego again?”

“I don’t see you shying away from smiles and praise from your students,” and his brow knits together, as he places his bag down on the podium, “no wonder your ego is so large,”

“What students?”

“Oh please, the ones swarming your desk after clsss. Didn’t you ever wonder why so many students from different disciplines take your class?” he opens his mouth and then you add, “and don’t say philosophy and ethics apply to every aspect of life,”

And then he seems to consider the thought, as before his lips curl, as he leans against the podium.

“Am I detecting some jealousy?” he smirks, and you pause before you scoff — far too quickly.

“No,” and he only smiles wider.

He chuckles, “That was convincing. I’m glad your ability to teach is much better than your ability to lie,”

“I’m not—“

“Jealous or not,” and you have to bite back your retort, his gaze freezing you in place, a softness you hated to see — because you didnt know whether it made you want to push him away or pull him close, “there’s only ever been one student who caught my eyes,”

Ah, there is was — you were sinking again.

“Really?” you mumble, crossing your arms, “not even one other? You have a habit of unethical behavior for an ethics professor,”

He’s grabbing his bag, before he’s taking a step forward to whisper, “Only when it comes to you,” and you have to force yourself not shiver at his words warming your skin, “I’ll see you next week,”

And he’s gone — as you stand in the empty lecture hall next to the podium, the very one from your first dream— and you’re right back where you started.

Professor Suguru Geto wasn’t the type to make mistakes. He was always meticulous and methodical — he used the very principles to help guide his life — because it gave him a moral framework, a way to interpret the world and his own actions. That’s what had drawn him to ethics in the first place. But then he met you.

And it seems like he’s made nothing but mistakes since.

He sat in his office after he practically fled the classroom, forcing his pace to be normal, hoping you didn’t see the flush on his face. Fuck, he tossed the pen he had picked up to start grading away, what was he doing?

He had told himself it was for the best — again and again when he watches you leave at the end of the last semester. He held his muscles taut as he watched you gather your things, stepping over the crushed pieces of both of your hearts. The two words he had barely choked were the only ones he could manage before he watched his office door shut behind you.

It was for the best. It was for the best. It was for the best.

That sentence was on repeat in his mind as he tried to work on his paper over the break — “try” being the operative word. It felt as if even his work hadn't been untouched by you — your impact widespread and all consuming — just as your actual touch was.

Fuck, he rakes his fingers through his hair, how was he going to survive this week much less this semester?

He couldn’t afford to be selfish — for your sake and his own. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to be. He runs a hand over his face — he all but blatantly admitted that he had feelings for you after class. After promising to keep things professional — he was the worst.

He only wished he was worse enough to do what you both wanted when you asked him in his office why you both couldn’t be together. He wanted to tell you the reasons why you should be — because he couldn’t stop thinking about you despite never seeing you over the break, his heart nearly stopped when he saw you standing in front of his office, and because he couldn’t help but smile when he could see you hesitating in front of the door — but he couldn’t help but smile when it came to you. But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

But he also couldn’t help but toe that damn line in the sand, the one that he had drawn, but the one so desperately wanted to cross.

And then there was a knock at his door, he sighs, “Come in,”

The department head enters his office, as Suguru blinks before he gets to his feet to offer his hand, as they exchange greetings, before gesturing for him to sit, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I saw your email about having your T.A. teach part of your class, and I wanted to get a little more detail about it,” Suguru nods, his face composed, but his body tense — paranoia scratching at the back of his mind, no one happened to see them kiss had they? No one was on campus really at that point. And the door was closed — he probably just wanted more information.

“What questions did you have?” and the department head runs down his list — what topic would you cover? How much class time would it take? Would he be asking the class first? Would he review your materials beforehand?

“Well, you both seemed to have thought a lot about this,” he leans back, crossing his leg over the other, “I think having her teach a part of a class is fine, but I would like you both to do it sooner rather than later,” and Suguru opens his mouth, but then he adds, “and I’d like to attend that class,”

Suguru tilts his head, “You would like to attend my class?” He considers his words carefully, “I was under the impression, based on the rules, the only thing needed to allow a T.A. to teach was the approval of the department head,” his anxiety begins to pick away at his nerves, “it’s not unusual for a T.A. to teach here correct?”

It was his first time having a teacher’s assistant at this university so perhaps this was a quality check? To ensure both you and him were meeting the standards of the university — and his anxiety added, and to make sure no rules were being broken by either of you.

“Yes, it’s not unusual, and I have my reasons which I’ll discuss with you after the class,” he checks the time and rises from his seat now, “I have another meeting soon — do you think she can present in two weeks?”

Suguru hesitates, “I’ll have to ask her but most likely that should be fine,”

“Okay please send an email cc’ing her and confirm the details,” he says his goodbyes, and he’s gone, as Suguru sits and considers this — what could he be planning?

Or, his nerves add, what could he be looking for?

Either way, he pulled up your email — it was going to be an interesting two weeks.

“Deontology determines whether an action is right or wrong based on a set of rules and principles instead of the consequences of the actions,” you speak to an empty lecture hall, your voice echoing in the silence, “therefore an act that isn’t morally good can lead to a good outcome,”

You had come into the lecture hall to practice yet again this week. You were cursing your past self for inflicting this optional task on yourself — it had taken far more time than you had expected (what’s new?), taken far more preparation than you thought (again, of course), and now had the fun added pressure of the department head attending. And why was he attending? A wonderful and complete mystery.

The last two weeks have been amazing for your mental health, truly.

You were lucky the lecture hall and the building at large was deserted at 8:00 PM — all of the staff and students had all but fled, and you were left with the perfect place to practice. It had been many nights of honing your presentation to the allotted time, leaving time to pose a thought exercise, time to discuss, and for questions.

You don’t see the door behind you open, nor do you hear it close, as you use the clicker to go through your PowerPoint, switching to the next slide.

“For example, killing an intruder, based on the consequence would be wrong, as I hope we all know killing is wrong — otherwise, I worry about what will happen when you get your grades back,” you give a brief chuckle — and hope some of the students would pity you with some laughs, and that’s when you hear a small laugh behind you.

Your head snaps around, flushing when you see Professor Geto standing by the door. He’s wearing a deep royal purple button up and gray slacks, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms.

God, this wasn’t a dream was it?

“Don’t let me stop you,” he says, his footsteps against the floor grew closer, and your body tenses, until they stop, “go on,” and he leans against the wall behind you.

“But when you do kill an intruder to protect your family, that’s viewed as right under deontology,” and you can’t focus with his gaze running over you, an all familiar feeling settled over you. Would life imitate dreams again? Would he come over and ask you to continue your presentation as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder? Would he—

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you can’t meet his gaze, but you hear his footsteps, “should I go?”

“No, no, it’s just,” you shake your head, “a little deja vu,”

He raises an eyebrow, “deja vu?”

Your blood runs cold. Fuck.

“I don’t recall you ever presenting like this in my clsss before,” you can't decide if his voice is more thick with confusion or curiosity.

“Yeah, no, sorry it’s nothing,” you brush him off, your eyes fixed on your notes on the podium, and you know he’s still staring, “what?”

“I see you’re still not a very good liar,” and you scoff, “what is it that’s gotten you so bothered?”

“Nothing,” you insist.

“The more you say that, the less I’m convinced,” and now he’s walking closer, closer still — but you’re fixed in place, “what is it?”

“You never let anything go, do you?” And you turn, your breath catching when you saw how close he was — inches from you, his pretty eyes wide at the sudden movement, his breath warming your lips. Black strands fall in his face, and you have to stop yourself from tucking them behind his ear. Stop yourself from wanting to touch him, stop yourself from wanting him to lean forward, stop yourself from wanting him.

Nothing good ever came from your want.

“Only when it’s you,” but this man makes it impossible not to want him. Not when his voice is soft, not when the back of his finger, a knuckle brushes against your cheek. And no words are needed — you can hear it in the silence between you both, you feel it in the gentleness of his touch, and in the softness of his gaze.

And you know you’re in love with him. You are.

But you can’t be.

“I’m not telling you,” you murmur, looking away — and it seems to break the spell, as he steps back, nodding, a flicker of sadness that slips away under his facade, “but maybe I will sometime, over a drink,” you add.

A smile tugs at his lips, “Well we know how well that went, or didn’t go rather, and you know, we can’t anytime soon,”

“Well sometimes an action that isn’t morally good can lead to a good outcome,” and he raises an eyebrow.

“Using deontology to convince me?” He tilts his head, “not a bad strategy — maybe I’ll have you write a paper,”

“And willingly subject myself to your red pen? No thanks,” and he snorts, before the smile fades into a frown, brow wrinkled in thought, “what is it?”

“Nothing, I’m just…” he crossss his arms, “I’m wondering why the department head wants to observe your presentation,”

“He didn’t give any indication why?” and he shakes his head, “maybe he just wants to evaluate how good a job you’re doing,” you add, “you are relatively green,”

“Not that green,” and you see his lips pressed together — and is he? — he was — he was pouting. You bite your lip how fucking adorable — but you know you’d be met with a scowl if you said that out loud, “don’t you worry that the dean may suspect something between us?”

The thought had crossed your mind, but class had been nothing but professional so far, and you’d be too busy sweating bullets (and perhaps dodging them from the students if the presentation went poorly) to even consider your feelings for him.

You sigh, “Look, nothing to do but get through it, right? It should be fine, we’ll deal with whatever comes after. As long as I don’t choke, and you don’t stare at me too adoringly, we should be fine,”

And you expect a retort, a cheeky reply, or even a quite sarcastic one, but he only gives a small smile, “Right,”

You feel your cheeks burn and you can’t meet his gaze again without feeling your heart flutter.

Fuck — maybe there was something to worry about.

Despite the concerns, the presentation goes off without a hitch. You spot the dean sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, pen and notepad in hand, which did nothing to soothe your poor heart (nor did the far too many cups of coffee and the total lack of sleep).

It happened quick — a blur of speaking, forcing yourself to slow your words down, a necessity when presenting — as you knew you always spoke faster than you believed you did when presenting. You think you even made the students laugh a few times, led an interesting thought experiment with a rousing debate that ended with no clear answer (as always), and then you answered questions.

All the while, Professor Geto stood in the back, and you’d catch a glimpse of him by the corner of your eye, his lips curled in that smile that haunted all your nights and days.

By the time it was done, you had barely realized time had gone so quickly, as you passed the metaphorical baton back to Geto. And you took a seat off to the side, opting to watch him lecture, rather than busy yourself with other work.

It felt like old times, you thought, as you watched him speak. You couldn’t blame the people that took his class just to watch him speak — he was unfairly beautiful when he spoke, gesticulating as he read a Kant quote. And you kept your face as neutral as possible, but he catches your eye for a moment, corner of his lip twitching upwards. And a flush settles over your cheeks, as you discreetly press your thighs together, trying to look suddenly engrossed with your notebook.

Your heart ached as much as your body did. You wanted to walk over and just kiss him, swallow his smart words along with his gasp, and feel those hands run along your body. You wanted to know every thought in his head, every part of his day, and fall asleep beside him.

You glance up to see him still speaking — a black strand falling in his face. You bite your lip, before looking back down.

This man would be the death of you — and it was even worse being alone with him. You’re thankful that your T.A. check-ins with him were every other week, because you couldn’t imagine having to spend more than an hour with him every other week.

“You want us to do what?” You blink at the Dean, his lips curled in a smile, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Apologies for all the secrecy, I did not receive confirmation about this until earlier today,” he explains, “but I want you two to attend this conference on ethics and philosophy — it’s over the weekend, two weekends from now. It would be a wonderful opportunity for the both of you to make connections and attend presentations, as well as mingle with prospective students. It would also afford us an opportunity for both of you to help put our university on the map,”

You glance at Professor Geto, his lips parted in surprise, “Sir, is it appropriate for a male professor and a—“

“Don’t worry, the accommodations will be separate and it’s a public event, as long as everything remains professional, there’s no problem, right? As long as you two are okay with it and there’s no problem,” he glances between the two of you, “is there a problem?”

And Professor Geto’s eyebrows knit together. It was a lose-lose situation — saying no meant raising some suspicions that there was an issue between the two of you, but saying yes meant going on a trip with the same professor you had kissed at the end of the last semester. And if anything happened on this trip...it could be very bad — ethically and otherwise.

So you make the decision for both of you.

“That’s fine. I’m happy to attend if Professor Geto is,” and you know you have no choice — you had to spend the weekend with him, alone. At a conference. In a hotel.

“Do you have everything?” Professor Geto asks, as you hand him your suitcase, your fingers brushing as you do. He lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car, his black t-shirt riding up as he does, a quick flash of the expanse of his muscles—

Fuck, you bite your lip, stop, stop. Professor. He’s a professor.

It didn’t matter that you had felt him part your thighs, as his lips slid against yours, nor that every time you saw each other, you felt this undeniable ache to touch him, comfort him, hug him, nor that you knew he felt the same and wanted to give in as badly as you did—

No, it didn’t matter.

You consider his question, scrunching up your face in thought, “I think so, wait,” you snap your fingers as he glances at you, “forgot the rest of my apartment upstairs — you think that’ll fit in there too?”

He smirks, rolling his eyes as shuts the trunk, “Ha, ha, ever consider becoming a comedian instead of a philosophy major?”

“Every day, but then I think what would my favorite professor do without me?”

He raises an eyebrow, “I’m your favorite?”

“Who said it was you?” you grin at him, as he shakes his head and you open the passenger door seat and slide in, as he slips into the driver’s seat. He adjusts his mirrors, buckling his seatbelt, as a sudden wave of guilt bombards you. You had dragged him down this rabbit hole with you — and now the two of you had to spend the entire weekend together, alone.

You lick your far too dry lips, “Sorry if I roped you into this,” you fidget with your phone, tapping on the screen absentmindedly.

He starts the car, engine roaring underneath your feet, before he glances at you, brow furrowed in seeming confusion, “What? It’s not you that roped us into this,”

You purse your lips, “But if I didn’t agree to it—“

He sighs, “We were in a position where we didn’t have much of a choice,” his fingers drum against the steering wheel, as his eyes flicker to make sure your seatbelt was on, “it’s not your fault — and it’s not a bad thing — we’ll spend time at the conference, we’ll mingle, and then return to our hotel rooms,” he adds, “don’t worry. Nothing will happen.”

And his reassurance is almost a punch to the gut instead — and your brain chides you for being so childish — you knew it was for the best, you knew it was the right thing to do, and you knew he was trying what was best for you, and for him.

But why did it hurt so goddamn much?

You steal a glance at him as he pulls into the street and begins to drive, dark gaze forward, his hair tied into its usual neat bun, and a chain poked out from underneath the rounded opening around his neck. And then your eyes flicker back out the window.

Was it really not a big deal to him?

Because the last two weeks were consumed with nothing, but thoughts of being alone with him. Days spent in conferences, sitting beside each other, whispering thoughts and inside jokes; evenings spent socializing together, waiting for the other to give the signal to leave; and nights walking back to your rooms, fingers brushing as you walked beside each other. You were sure it would take a slight bend of the rules, a gaze that lingers a little too long, to break the paper thin resistance either of you had to the other. The two of you could barely be alone for more than a few minutes without temptation rearing its ugly head — even now your eyes can’t help but trace the curve of his jaw, the way the sunlight catches his eyes, the way your fingers want nothing more than intertwine with his hand that rests on the console between you two.

But you don’t. You give a weak smile, glancing out the window as the streets of Tokyo pass you by — “Yeah it should be fine.”

Just fine.

“There was a problem with your reservation,”

And after half an hour of waiting off to the side, with your luggage stacked up and irritation creeping its way to a new high as you watched others easily being checked in to the hotel, you assumed there was a problem. If there wasn’t a problem, you would wonder if this was a new take on Waiting for Godot that would end with the both of youu sleeping in the lobby. You rubbed at your temples, as Geto dealt with the hotel staff, his arms crossed, lips a tight line, “the hotel double booked one of your rooms, so we only have one room available for you.”

You barely heard the rest of the argument your professor had with the hotel staff, the same phrase ringing in your ears — one room, one room, one room. With nothing more to argue about, they finally escorted you both to your room in awkward silence. And as they opened the door, you spotted it — there was only one single queen sized bed.

One. Bed.

You felt your cheeks flush, as you couldn’t even meet Geto’s eyes, as he began to speak heatedly with the manager again. And the excuses began, as the manager wrung his hands, about how no other rooms being available due to the conference and another event happening in town.

“There is a couch though,” he offers, pointing to a far too small couch, and the sharp glare that Geto gave him would put even his red pen to shame, “we will see about comping half—“ Geto crosses his arms, “all of your stay here,” and with that, he’s gone.

“So,” you sigh, glancing at Geto, with a strained smile, “I have dibs on the bed?”

Was this a cosmic joke? You wondered as you turned off the water of the shower, squeezing your eyes shut. Was this a version of ethical karma for what you had done last semester? An ultimate ethical test that you would surely fail? A fucking prank show?

You didn’t know. You dried off and got dressed, pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, your hair still damp, as you took a breath and stepped out, towel slung over your shoulders.

Geto was still on the phone, pacing back and forth — he was trying to call other hotels to see if there was anywhere else with two rooms or at least a room with two beds.

“Yes I understand it’s very last minute—“ he sighs for what must have been the billionth time today, “yes, there was a mistake at the hotel I’m staying at—yes, ok, well, thank you,” he hangs up, setting his phone down.

“No luck?” You sit on the edge of the bed, wiping your hair, and he shakes his head.

“The one thing they were right about is that every hotel room is booked solid — not only is our conference in town, but there’s a physical science consortium happening as well,” he rakes his fingers through his hair, a few strands coming loose, “I’ll have to give the Dean a call to update him on the situation,”

You nod, “So what should we do about sleeping?” And he can’t quite meet your gaze, “are there no trundle or rollaway beds?”

“No, apparently those have all been spoken for,” he grumbles, and he prepares to call the dean, “I’ll take the couch, you can have the bed—“

“Professor, we can—“ and his gaze snaps to you, “we can share—“

“No, we can’t,” he says softly, “you know we can’t do that,”

“We’re both adults—“

“And we’re still a professor and a student,” he draws the line between you two again, the gash even deeper than before, the gap that’s meant to keep you safe — the chase meant to protect you — so why did it feel more like a punishment? “I’ll take the couch,” and he calls the Dean to update him on the situation.

You busy yourself with drying your hair in the bathroom, before coming back out to see him hanging up the phone.

“Well, are we in an ethical bind or should I go sleep in the lobby just to show there’s no funny business?” And he shoots you a look, “there have been stranger bedfellows,” and he opens his mouth, “and a single word comes out of your mouth, and I’ll join you on that couch,”

And a very pretty flush adorns the tips of his ears and cheeks, “He said it was fine, it was out of our control, but to just document everything, including the hotel’s incompetence for legality reasons,”

“You’re also a lawyer as well as a professor?”

“You have to hedge your bets,” he shrugs with a smile pulling at his lips, before he checks the time, “I’m going to take a shower,” he sighs, pulling his hair from the messy bun, letting his black locks down. And you watch him run his fingers through his hair again, sighing, as he heads into the shower.

You lay on the bed, biting your lip — as you turn over to use your phone, as the shower turns on. And you glance at the closed door — the thought of him in there, pulling his shirt over his head, shedding his pants and boxers. Your cheeks burn, burying your face in your pillow as if that would help (it did not).

You curl up on the bed, turning away from the bathroom door, using your phone. And a few minutes pass, as you kind of drift off into sleep, and you hear a creak of the bathroom door open that rouses you from sleep. You don’t move at first but you hear shuffling, the sounds of a zipper. You finally turn on your other side, eyes fluttering open, and you’re met with the sight of bare skin.

You blink, eyes flickering up to see your Professor’s flushed face, before your eyes slowly following a bead of water slip down his bare chest, black hair dotting along the middle of his chest and abs, down to a happy trail that was hidden by a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothes in his hand, and your eyes find his own, your lips parted and mouth impossibly dry.

Oh. My. God.

“Uh—“ and his cheeks flare red, as you try your best not to let your eyes flicker downward, “I forgot my clothes—“ and you turn away, as he darts back into the bathroom, “I’m sorry,” he says, muffled through the door.

“It’s okay!” You reply, your heart thumping against your ribcage, squeezing your eyes shut to only be met the memory of his bare torso, “fuck,” you mumble under your breath, as you turn onto your back, and stare at the spinning ceiling fan above you. A distinct ache below at the thought of him.

Your eyes flickered to the shut bathroom door. You hear the sound of water running again — maybe he needed to wash up again. Either way, you slid under the comforter, hand slipping into your shorts, you had some time. You wish you could have grabbed his hand before he fled into the bathroom, sat up on your knees, fingers sliding to his cheek.

“Kiss me,” you’d murmur, and he would, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips sweetly, as your fingers glide up his bare chest. You’d swallow his gasp with delight, as your other hand finds his wet locks, fingers tangling in his black locks, “please,” you would guide his fingers to the hem of your shirt and he would oblige, lifting up and over your head. And your fingers would tug his towel away, letting it fall to the ground.

Your fingers press against the wet patch on your underwear, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you gasp, imagining it was instead his eager fingers that tugged your shorts down. You sunk one finger in and then another, pumping slowly, and you knew he would get you ready for him. He would fuck you with his thick fingers, as his mouth latched to your clit, sucking gently as he fucked you open. You moaned his name softly, as you imagine his fingers stretching you open.

“Do you want me, my pretty girl?” He would murmur between your thighs, lips glossy with your release, “s’good for me, taste as good as you look,” and he would press your back gently into the mattress as he would meet your lips again before, rubbing the tip of his cock against your puffy lips, “tell me what you want, Princess,”

“Please,” you whispered, as you moved your fingers faster, adding a third finger, but you know his cock would feel so much thicker, and reach so much deeper, “fuck me,”

And he would, sinking into you, his pretty cock parting your folds, his quiet grunts and moans whispering in your ear, as he works himself inside to the hilt. His lips would find yours as he would rock his hips into you — your cunt would flutter around his length. He would press your thighs apart further, long fingers digging into your soft flesh, the wet squelch of your cunt and the sounds of his skin slapping against yours would ring in your ears.

“S’close, Sugu—fuck,” you would keen against him, instead of your fingers, “please,” and his thumb would find your clit, just as yours did, and you would cum all over his cock, squeezing around his length, as he sinks even deeper, until his tip is brushing against your cunt. The moan of his name slips out, as you press your forearm against your mouth to barely stifle it.

Fuck, you come down from your high, panting. And you glance at the bathroom door, thinking you’ll clean up once he gets out. You roll over in bed, as you pulled the pillow over your face.

This was going to be a long weekend.

Suguru lingers in the bathroom for far too long after that, the embarrassment of the moment still far too fresh in his mind, his cheeks still a dusty pink at the thought. Not only was it bad enough that he was trapped in this hotel room with you for an entire weekend, but now he had paraded out practically half naked for you to see.

Fuck his life.

He had hurried into the shower if only to get a break from being in the same room as you. It had been hard enough to endure the last few weeks as a T.A., but now he had to spend an entire weekend sharing a hotel room — and deal with situations like that one all weekend. Seeing you emerge from the bathroom, only in a t-shirt and shorts, still damp from your shower — wet hair in messy tangles that he wanted to run his fingers through— and that’s why he excused himself to the bathroom. A reprieve if only for a moment. If he had only remembered to bring his clothes into the shower — he wouldn’t have had to finish his shower, with only his discarded clothes to wear that had slipped off the clothes rack and onto the damp floor.

He had stepped out, towel around his waist, as he peeled out, only to see your back to him, the sounds of soft breathing told him you were asleep. And he crept out, silently cursing as the door creaked and rifled through his suitcase for clothes. He had found them, and gone to retreat back when you roused and turned all at once.

God, he sighed, it was such a mess.

But the way you looked at him…lips parted, gaze flicking across his body, the way your eyes lingered a little too long on his torso — and now he had an entirely different problem.

His cock tented against the towel, as his eyes slid to the bathroom door. What if he just hopped into the shower for a second again? The towel dropped to the floor, as he steps back into the shower, turning on the water.

He groans, his fingers slide over his mortifyingly hard erection, teasing his slit as he would imagine you would, as you would open the bathroom door, murmuring his name, “Professor? Are you okay?” And you wouldn’t wait for his answer as you stepped into the shower with him, eyes raking down his body, a teasing grin on your lips, “not very ethical is that?” And your fingers would curl their way around the base of his cock, making him shudder with pleasure, “I can take care of that,” and you would kiss down his chest and stomach, even despite his protests, until you reached where he wanted your touch most.

And god, you would look so pretty on your knees for him, as your fingers pumped him far too slowly, teasing him with a chaste kiss to his tip, tongue dragging against his slit, better than how his thumb did, “s’good for me, Professor,” you’d say, when you heard the hiss he just let out, “I wonder what other sounds you could make for me,” and your lips would close around his tip, sucking lightly, as he gasped, his other hand clasped over his mouth, muffling his sounds.

He would look down with half lidded eyes, and see your head bobbing as you took him so well, your fingers toying with his balls, spotting your eyes flicking up to meet his — glazed over and desperate, just he imagined his were. Your mouth would feel so much better than his hand, the wet squelch of his pumping would not compare to you swallowing around him, sucking and licking around his length, his pre-cum and your drool slipping down the corner of your mouth.

You’d swallow around him, as his fingers would slide into your hair. And maybe you would let him fuck your mouth, hips rolling slowly as you adjust, before he slowly would thrust faster. He would repay the favor tenfold once you were done, burying himself in your sweet cunt, until you were begging him to stop. His fingers moved faster around his cock, his low groans and wet squelch bouncing off the bathroom walls, hopefully drowned out by the running water. Fuck, he wished he would feel how it would to have his tip brush against the back of your throat.

He was close, the twitch of his dick in his hand told him so, and he imagined what it would be like to cum in your mouth, watching you swallow his release, if you’d want to, or cumming all over your face or chest, letting his cock drag over your tongue as he pulled out.

Fuck, he shudders, moaning your name against his fingers, he cums all over his hand and the wall of the shower, his release running down mixing with the water. He rinsed his hand off, leaning his head under the water again, hoping it would wash away any traces of you.

It didn’t.

And as he emerged from the shower, making sure any trace of his act had slipped down the drain, but the towel around his neck, wondering if you’d see what he did on his face. But you wouldn’t — because you were fast asleep.

His lips curled as he watched you sleep for a moment, your lips parted, curled up facing away from the bathroom — your feet sticking out of your blanket. He adjusts the blanket for you, and you shift a little in your sleep, mumbling something under your breath, before settling back in.

And he bites his lip before turning away — he would never be clean, would he?

Not when it was you.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be stuck here?” you murmur, the smile plastered on your lips nearly starting to chip and crack.

Professor Geto sipped at his drink hiding his frown, long fingers cradling the wine glass far too perfectly, “at least another hour,” he sighs, “when in academia, one must get used to mindless conversing if only it will lead to another needless connection,”

And this day had been nothing but an exercise of that — lectures, panels, presentations — any other word that meant someone or several someones sitting in front of you, talking at you — with only maybe 30% of the people actually listening (if you were lucky or interesting). And now you were one hour deep into a mixer that had you engaging in dry chit-chat that had your mind going numb by the first ten minutes. Your only reprieve being by Geto’s side.

You hated how he could make the dullest of things enjoyable for you, or rather—

You hated how much you loved it

“How pithy — Plato?” And he snorts, as you finish off your own drink, “I’m going to get a refill, do you want anything?” He shakes his head, and you head off to the bar.

You were so restless after sitting for so long. Not to mention the slight rash you got from not washing up soon enough. You woke an hour and half later and cleaned yourself up — luckily Geto had passed out by then. You saw him sleeping half scrunched up, half sprawled out on the couch — one of his legs were hanging off the couch — and even his blanket had slipped off. You stifled a small laugh, taking a quick picture of him — so stubborn that he wouldn’t sleep on the bed with you. Your gaze had softened, as you picked up the discarded blanket and placed it over him softly, your fingers gently tucking some of his hair from his face. You fell asleep again after heading back to bed, and woke up refreshed — while Geto had woken up with a very sore back and neck.

“Can I get…” you look at the menu, ordering your favorite drink, standing by the bar as you adjust your dress, you had opted for a black dress with sheer tights — one you had worn a suit jacket over it. You tap against the bar top, checking your phone as you do.

“Can I get what she’s getting?” A dark haired man sidles up beside you, his mouth curled in a smirk drawing attention to a scar in the corner of his mouth, and his voice drops to a whisper, “though I think I’d enjoy you more than the drink,”

You raise your eyebrows, “and I think you’ve certainly had enough tonight,” you say under your breath, giving an awkward chuckle, but he doesn’t seem to notice as the bartender comes back with your drink. Your eyes flicker over the crowd as you search for Geto but you can’t find him.

“What’s your name, pretty?” And your skin crawls as his dark gaze slides over your body, “mine’s Toji,” and you bite back a sigh, introducing yourself, “it’s very nice to meet you — I’ve met a lot of people tonight but you definitely have been the most interesting,” and the bartender comes back with his drink.

“Then you must have not met a lot of interesting people so far,” you say, eager to look for any out to escape this conversation, “my friend is waiting—“

“No, I’d say that you’re just that interesting,” he sips his drink, “can I get you another drink?”

And right when you’re about to respond, “No, I don’t think she’s interested,” And you tense a moment before you register the familiar voice, Geto smiles at Toji, if you could call that a smile — it reminded you of one a predator gave its new prey, “especially because she’s a student, and you’re most assuredly not,”

Toji raises an eyebrow, “But she is an adult, she can speak for herself, so why don’t you let her, Professor?”

“Because—“ his fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you but he can’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat. And you know why he can’t.

Geto’s smile wavers, and you intercede, “I can, and I think I’ve had enough for tonight,” you pay your tab, “let’s go back to the hotel, Professor,”

And Toji pulls his card out, handing it to you, “If you change your mind,” he raises his glass, leaning against the bar, before he leans closer to you, whispering, “if you ever get sick of him, call me,”

You give a polite smile, tugging Geto away until you reached the outside of the building, silence filled the space between you two, until you found your way outside.

“What did he say?” He asks as he calls a car back to take you both to the hotel, and you don’t know how to answer that — not without making it worse, “actually, never mind. I shouldn’t have asked,”

“Professor—“

“You’re an adult, he’s right — you should be allowed to make your own choices,” he licks his lips, his eyes still fixed on his phone screen, “I’m sorry if I—“

“Can you let me speak?” you sigh, as you wave your hand in front of his phone so he would look at you, and his eyes meet yours, “you’re fine — I was trying to get out of there — I just felt very trapped.”

He huffs out a chuckle. “When you took that long, I wondered if the group of solipsists had taken you hostage,”

You grimace, “I guess when you believe everyone else is an illusion, you also think manners are an illusion too,” he laughs in earnest now, “now there’s a real smile,” He tilts his head, “the smile you had inside, real scary kind of smile,” you tease, as his eyes can’t quite meet yours.

“Oh yeah?” he suddenly seems very interested in his phone, “our rideshare is almost here,”

“Almost like you were jealous,” and he scoffs.

“Of him?”

“Uh huh, he is pretty attractive, maybe I will give him a call—“ and you notice him grip his phone tighter, and your lips curl, “but I probably won’t, not really my type,”

“Not your type?” he asks.

“More into the intellectuals, that man was far from it — I like an academic, sweater vests, glasses, a pretentious little office—“ and the glare is back, as you laugh, the rideshare sparing him from you continuing this conversation, but you also didn’t get to see the slight smile on his lips as you slipped into the back of the car.

“Just sleep on the bed,” you say for probably the thousandth time, but he only shakes his head, as he sits on the couch, combing out his black locks. Even freshly showered, he looks unfairly hot — a loose gray t-shirt with sweatpants, contacts switched to glasses, and now his hair brushed against his shoulders.

“I’ll sleep on the couch — it was fine last night—“

“Your spinal cord would beg to differ,” and he looks unamused, as he struggles with his comb, “what are you doing?”

“I can’t get this knot out of my hair, and I can’t get you out of my hair either,” he adds, as you roll your eyes, slipping off the bed and walking over. You ease the comb from his fingers, biting your lip at the brush of his fingers, “what are you—“

“It’s easier if someone else does it,” and he sighs, giving in, as your fingers undo the knot in his hair gently, “your hair is really smooth and fine, probably why it tangled so fast,” and he only hums in response, his body relaxing under your touch, as you comb through the rest of his hair. You bite back a smile, he’s almost like a cat, keening under your touch, “feels good?” You murmur.

“Yeah, it does,” and you don’t want the moment to end, you want this excuse to touch him to remain, the first time you’ve been able to breach this wall between you two — and it’d be over in an instant, “I think that’s good,” he mutters.

He lays his head back on the top of the couch to look up at you — pretty obsidian orbs stared back at you — and your heart squeezes. He was so close, within reach, and all you had to do was lean down, press your lips against his, and maybe you wouldn’t have to tiptoe anymore, maybe you wouldn’t have to hide from him, maybe you could be—

“We should go to bed,” he sighs, the moment breaks, as he sits upright, adjusting his pillow on the couch beside him, “we have an early start,”

“Don’t remind me,” you turn back to him, “but you’re right - we should go to bed—“ you grab his pillow, “on the bed,”

“No—“

“Like you said, we’re both adults,” you tilt your head, as he purses his lips, “I think I can handle sleeping in bed beside you, just sleeping, we can even put a pillow between us,” and you add, “if I try anything in my sleep, you challenge me to a pillow fight, and push me off the bed,”

He scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I really can sleep on—“ and then you raise your eyebrows, eyes flicking to the hand on his neck. He sighs, “fine, but I really will push you off the bed, I’m a restless sleeper,”

“Then it’s equal opportunity,” you grin, as you slip into your side of the bed, stretching. Suguru is slower to get in, taking his time and adjusting his pillow and blanket before he finally gets into bed, “good night,”

“Good night,” he turns to face away from you as he sleeps and you do the same.

But it wasn’t a good night. Not when you couldn’t fucking sleep.

For someone so smart, you really were very stupid. The bed that seemed expansive and open yesterday now felt Tom Thumb tiny, every shift of your body felt like a ripple effect, as you’d feel the slight shift of Geto right beside you. He was so close — you swore you could nearly feel the heat radiate off of him, the weight of his body beside you felt far too close and way too far — a chasm you could never cross.

And it was close to driving you insane enough to follow your wants all the way down it.

But you couldn’t — but you could look, stare into the void, without becoming part of it.

You shift again to face him this time — how could the back of someone’s head be so beautiful? Jet black locks that you had combed yourself fanned out on his pillow. But you could spot the nape of his neck through the tresses, a lovely spot that you only wished you could lean over and bury your face in. Your eyes began to droop.

Hypnos finally took pity. You could only sleep this way. Your eyes finally flutter shut — you should have known — you were always the most comfortable with him in your sight.

Suguru knew that you had fallen asleep — because your soft breaths fell into a rhythm, the crinkle of your sheets had grown silent, and the loud thoughts that filled up your head had gone quiet. He was glad one of you could sleep.

He surely wouldn’t get a wink tonight.

This was certainly more comfortable than the couch, but at least he had slept on the couch. He would be lucky to get thirty minutes at this rate. This weekend had already been too much — and he felt his will to stay away from you slowly snapping, a few strands away from breaking away completely.

When he had seen you with Toji — he didn’t think, he just acted. He could see you were uncomfortable, the way your body leaned away from him, the way your eyes flickered around the room, and the way you toyed with your glass. It was a simple choice, but what happens when the next person that flirts with you is someone you’re interested in? Would he have to stand by and simply let it happen? Watch as you’re able to date this person but not him simply because of his title?

He was jealous. Not of Toji — but of the idea of you being with someone else — of your attention drifting from him, of you drifting from him. He turned to lay on his back, he really was fucked wasn’t he?

He turns his head to look at you. It never helped that you were effortlessly adorable, even now as you slept. Lips parted, body curled up, your hair falling in your face yet again. His fingers tuck a strand behind your ear gently, and you shift, a quiet hum leaving your lips as you settle back into the arms of the sandman.

How were you so close but so far? You were mere inches away but you might as well be across the country. Because he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t hold you, he couldn’t kiss you. The kiss he shared with you haunted his dreams — a daydream wrapped up in the nightmare of reality. He couldn’t ask you to wait — wait for your degree to be completed so the two of you could date. It wouldn’t be fair to you, but what about this was fair?

And he turns on his side to face you, his fingers brushing your cheek gently — maybe if he couldn’t be with you in reality, he could allow himself to dream, his eyes flutter shut.

Just for a moment.

And his unconscious allows it — allows him to dream of you.

Dream of your face buried in the crook of his neck, your soft breaths warming his skin, his nose buried in your hair. Your fingers grasped at his shirt, your other hand thrown over his middle. Why was your scent so intoxicating? He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer, and you shift, your leg sliding around his waist, as you pressed closer, pulling a groan from his lips as your core grazes right against his morning…visitor.

And you move again, nose brushing against his collarbone, his name on your lips, quietly whispered like a secret against his skin. It was perfect — you were perfect.

But what if this wasn’t a dream? The back of his mind prods — but that’s not possible, he was home in bed, right? This wasn’t real. It was the same dream he always had, of waking up in your arms, a lazy morning spent together in bed, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, the sheets becoming dappled in sunshine.

No, there was no way this was real, he sighs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, but even if it was, he thought as he drifted, he didn’t want to wake — not yet.

A distinct buzz stirs you from your sleep. But you don't want to wake — you were far too comfortable. But the buzzing persists, so you reach blindly for your phone and to turn off the alarm. And settle back into bed, eyes still shut, as you find your way back onto your pillow — or what you thought was your pillow.

Except pillows didn’t move, or have an arm they could wrap around you.

Your eyes open, to find yourself entangled with someone else — your brow furrowing in confusion that melts away to silent horror. Professor Geto.

So much for sticking to your sides.

Fuck.

You tried to extricate yourself to no avail, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his body, your legs entangled, aside from your leg thrown over his waist, you realize, a small squeak escaping your lips, as you try and fail to move away. Instead you brush up against something very…hard.

You flush, cheeks burning so hot that it’s truly a miracle he didn’t wake from the heat of your skin against his alone. His morning wood was pressed right against you, nearly between your thighs — just like the last time it was against you — why the fuck would you think about that now? You resisted the urge to press your legs together — lest you have another new problem, and a mess to deal with.

You manage to only pull your head away, urging yourself up so that your faces are an inch or two apart now. His soft breaths warmed your lips, his brow relaxed, locks of black hair fell in front of his eyes. Your fingers reach and tuck the locks behind his ear, tips skimming his skin. And the arm around you almost seems to tighten, and you bite your lip, the comforting presence of his arms far too tempting to drag you into wanting — as if you ever left. Wanting was dangerous, because wanting can only ever lead to need, needing him was as foolish as it was to share a bed with the man you were in love with.

But how foolish was it that you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away? It was okay right? Okay as long your lips didn’t touch, as long you didn’t follow this slope all the way down — it was treacherous to press forward, but why did you want to anyway?

Your eyes flutter shut again for a moment — and your eyes glanced at the morning sky — the sun had just breached the horizon. You could allow yourself a few minutes — even if you had to give up a lifetime with him.

The blaring of your phone only seems to grow increasingly loud, as you give a small groan, rolling over to your phone again, slapping the screen to snooze it again. And your eyes flutter open a moment, lazily flickering over the screen — 8:45 AM.

Your eyes close — before your mind fully wakes — 8:45 AM?

“Fuck,” you shoot up to get up, a tangle of limbs, jolting Geto awake, his eyes popping open, his arm instinctively grabbing you by the waist, and you land with an oomfph back onto the bed—wait, not the bed.

Your hand pressed against his chest, your body against his, noses brushing, your eyes unable to tear away from the other — his eyes were even prettier this close — a dark brown, nearly black, with flecks of another color — purple? You can’t tell if that’s your heartbeat or his that’s racing with how close you are, chest to chest. And even as you try to shift, you make it worse by slipping, your hips rubbing against each other’s.

Fuck.

You both freeze for a moment, his eyes flickering to your lips and back, as yours does the same, before you both scramble apart.

“We’re late. We’re really late,” you spring out of bed, grabbing random clothes from your suitcase, “I’m going to get ready, really fast,” you don’t even bother to look at his expression, and you almost wished your heart had shattered your ribcage, with how fucking hard it’s beating, if only that you wouldn’t have to spend another day in the conference with him.

You sighed, as you brushed your teeth hurriedly while doing your hair — well maybe a lecture or presentation would take your mind off this morning.

So that wasn’t a dream, Suguru was only glad you didn’t even glance at his face when you ran off, or you would have seen the lovely tomato red that graced his cheeks. He could still feel the warmth from your body, slowly receding, and he swore he could still feel you against him, your soft skin, your pretty lips against his neck, and your leg around his waist.

Fuck.

God, he had another fucking problem to deal with — as he shifted awkwardly, his morning wood up and erect with a tent that could put most large circus tents to shame. Fuck, he didn’t have time to take care of this — especially with you in the bathroom right now.

But still, he pressed his inner palm to his lips, how was he going to make it through the rest of the conference with the feeling of your body still lingering in his mind. If the situation was different, the two of you would have woken up with smiles on your lips, spent the morning cuddling without a care, and probably a little more than that—

But the situation was the same, and his eyes slid to the bathroom door, so why was it that he still thinking about you? He wasn’t the type to dwell, he accepted things for what they were — he had his principles and his beliefs, and he stuck to them, unless proven otherwise. He was a man of guidelines, of rules—

So why were you the only person that ever made him want to throw every rule away?

“We are going to be discussing ethical dilemmas faced in universities and how to approach them,” the lecturer begins, “can anyone tell us an example of one such dilemma?”

You both had barely made it into a lecture — barely even speaking as you ran-walked into the conference — choosing a lecture at random, as the two of you ran a good fifteen minutes late. You both arrived, hiding your pants, as you both grabbed water bottles from the back, and sat down.

And of course to make matters worse, your phone goes off, making the entire room turn to look at the two of you. You silence your phone, murmuring a quick sorry as the two of you take your seats.

Could this possibly get worse?

Your eyes glanced at him — it was already bad enough to begin with. Geto had barely spoken a word this morning, even as the two of arrived at the conference, the only words he spoke were to the attendant that parked his car.

You tugged at the collar of your shirt, adjusting your clothes. And if that wasn’t enough, you were going to spend the day sweaty and disheveled. Meanwhile, you stole another glance at your professor — his skin flushed from running, button up not buttoned up all the way, glasses instead of contacts, and his hair in its usual bun, but a few strands were nearly coming loose — he still looked fucking delectable. But he wouldn’t meet your gaze, his body positioned to lean away from yours, his eyes fixed ahead.

You held back your sigh as you focused on the presentation — you just needed to get through today — as the lecturer picked someone who raised their hand.

“A student-teacher relationship is one such ethical problem faced in universities today,” and Geto nearly chokes on his water, coughing slightly, as you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of this morning, “it presents several ethical problems — including the role the professor plays in the student’s education and future, their ability to provide praise or reprimand, and even grant recommendations gives them great power over their student. It leaves the student without much freedom in the relationship.”

Oh, what the fuck.

The rest of the conference is spent in relative silence with a thick film of awkwardness perfectly overlayed. When you both finally return to the hotel room, your only consolation is that you’ll be leaving tomorrow. You toss your things onto the couch, “I’m going to wash up,” you tell him, and he only nods in reply, as you enter the bathroom and shut the door, back pressed against it and sliding down.

Oh this is such a mess. You sigh, maybe a shower will help.

It didn’t. You were still just as much of a mess as you were before. You sighed, as you stood in front of the sink, wiping your hair with a towel. This could be so simple if you both could be together — so easy. There would be no tension, no hurt feelings, no awkwardness — you could just be. But that’s not an option. So the only other option is to let him go.

But you didn’t know how to begin to.

Either way, hiding in the bathroom wouldn’t solve a thing — and you finally opened the door, “I’m done if you want to wash up,” he nods, sitting on the couch, reading a book. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose, lips pursed, and legs crossed.

You walk over, grabbing your things from the couch and put some of your things away in your suitcase. But after all of that is done, you realize one thing is missing — your cellphone.

“Shit,” you murmur under your breath, searching through your suit coat pockets, your pants pocket, anywhere that your phone might be.

“What’s wrong?” Geto says, book in his lap, as he tilts his head.

“Can’t find my phone,” you mumble, cheeks burning — god, it was already awkward enough, and now this?

“Is it on ring?” You nod — your phone was usually on ring, sometimes to your detriment — you cringe at the memory in the lecture this morning, “I’ll call it,”

He calls you — and you glance at his phone screen, your contact is just your name, no picture, nothing. You bite your lip, what were you expecting? A heart next to your name? And the sound of your phone ringing catches both of your attention.

“It’s over here, somewhere,” he says, lifting up some of cushions of the couch, and reaching underneath into the creases, as you walk over — “I found—“

And you were so concerned about your contact information in his phone that you forgot about his contact information in your phone.

The screen flashed with the image of him sleeping all lopsided on the couch from that first night, as you covered your mouth in both horror, but also to stifle your laugh.

His eyes flicker to you, “When did you—“ and you reach for your phone, but he moves it away, “not until you answer my questions,”

“This isn’t class, Professor, I want my phone—“ you reach for it again, and he’s holding it above your head, “oh real mature—“

“Like the picture you have of me as my contact picture?” He raises an eyebrow, a real smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “thought I should resort to my student’s level,”

“Your T.A.,” you correct, as you reach for your phone again, but he’s using his height to his advantage, and he’s beginning to walk backwards, “come on, give it back—“

“Not until I change and delete that photo,” and he’s trying to hold your phone up to your face to unlock it, and you gasp.

“Oh my god, give it back!” And you grab his hand, and he’s grabbing at the other, giggles leaving your lips, as he laughs too, as the two of you struggle for the phone, your fingers closing over it, and over his own fingers as well.

And you realize how close you are to him.

The two of you freeze a moment, laughter on your lips fading away to soft smiles, and his fingers squeeze yours lightly, as he passes you your phone back. But he doesn’t move away — and you don’t either.

“Why did you let go?” and it seems like it’s a force out of your control that draws you together, no matter how much either of you try to let go.

“Because I can’t help giving you what you want,” he murmurs, and the heat of his gaze melts your heart, as you drop your phone onto the couch, and reach for his hand again.

And you lean closer, your other hand gently brushing against his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw, “So if I ask for a kiss, will you give it to me?” You won��t close the gap anymore than you have — he needs to reach for you too, let himself give into gravity.

He does, as his hand brushes against your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone, “will we stop at just a kiss?” He murmurs, leaning so close that your eyes want to flutter shut.

“Only one way to find out,” and his lips brush yours. And it’s not chaste like your first kiss was, no, his lips slide against yours, as his other hand slides to the back of your neck. He swallows your gasp eagerly, if the smirk you feel against your lips is anything to go off of. Your teeth graze against this bottom lip teasingly, drawing a small groan from the back of his throat.

Neither of you couldn’t stop at one kiss, and you both knew that, even as your lips parted for a small breath of air, they found each other again — just as you both always did. Because you could never let him go — no matter how hard you tried.

RING. RING. RING.

And this time it isn’t an alarm. But rather his phone, flashing with a name that brings you crashing back to reality.

The department head.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, as he parts from you, his warmth leaving all at once, as he grabs his phone, and turns away, “Hello? Yes, the conference is over. Everything went well. No, no, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You stared at his back, this would always be the case wouldn’t it? Even as you crashed together, something would pull you apart, and neither of you could break the cycle. You take your phone from the couch, and crawl into bed, but you could start.

You close your eyes, your fingers brushing against your lips for a moment. You needed to start — otherwise, you would just end up broken.

And you don’t hear him hang up — or see him stare at your figure under the covers — and he would break along with you.

Suguru didn’t know what to say the next morning — especially when it seemed couldn’t even bear to look at him, much less speak to him. You had busied yourself with packing, even before he had awoken. His back ached from the night he spent on the couch, he couldn’t fall asleep for far too long, and by the time he did, he kept sleeping — through his many alarms it seemed.

And it wasn’t the couch that kept him awake.

You both had the most lovely timing, didn’t you? He thought, as he combed his hair in the bathroom, the memory of your fingers running through his hair as you gently undid the knots in his locks still ever present — it seemed like any time you two wanted to act on your feelings, the universe was doing what it could to keep you apart.

Was this fate versus free will?

You both kept choosing each other — but fate kept pulling you apart. Did he have any control over his actions or did he have no control over his actions at all? Was it all predetermined by some force he couldn’t perceive? Some force intent on pulling you apart.

He sighed, as his phone lights up with an email from the department head — department head position opened up in Jujutsu University: Kyoto —

And so maybe he should let it.

The next few weeks pass by far too quick. As your semester picks up, you stop attending Professor Geto’s classes, opting to send an email to let him know, and he replies back with a simple response — Ok. Please let me know when and if you are available to input the grades for the midterm paper.

The rest of your T.A. work is done online and over email — and you do your best to keep busy, keep yourself occupied, and keep your thoughts from straying to him.

And you maybe succeed 10% of the time. It doesn’t help that your unconscious does not wish to cooperate since it seems that once you stopped seeing your professor during waking hours, he’s infiltrated your sleep — sneaking in and out by the time your eyes open.

And then you’re left with the fragments of his touch, his voice, his kisses, and soft, loving words.

Just as you always were it seemed.

And before you know it, the end of the semester comes, and you find yourself in front of that same office door yet again. It felt like an eternal reoccurrence — stuck to repeat the same events again and again in an infinite loop. Was there any exit from this loop?

You didn’t know — you knocked on his office door — but you could try.

“Come in,” you do, entering his office to find him sitting at his desk, hair half up for once. And his eyes flicker up to meet yours, his head tilting at your stare, “see something interesting?”

“Your hair—“ and your cheeks burn — so much for trying — “it’s different,”

“Thought I’d try something different — my hair is growing out,” and you have to repress the want to curl a lock or his hair around your finger, “do you not like it?”

You shake your head, “It looks nice, just different,”

And he hands you the papers he’s graded, “you can input those, I’m just finishing up a couple more, so if you wouldn’t mind waiting a bit?”

“Not at all,” a silence falls over between the two of you, the quiet scratch of his pen as he grades, the occasional ding of his e-mail breaking up the silence. You sneak a glance at him — ebony tresses brushing against his broad shoulders, his brow furrowed that you wished to run your fingers along to smooth his worries from his mind, pretty lips parted as he reads a sentence silently to himself.

Fuck — no, no, you can’t do this.

You busy yourself thumbing your way through the papers, spotting the familiar red scrawls littering these pages, as they once did yours. You were so pissed when you got your first paper back — indignant even — a whole Karen ready to speak to his supervisor. But when his honest criticism and blunt words rang true, you found yourself not only wanting to prove him wrong, but a want to be better. To earn his respect. And of course, later, you wanted to earn a little more than that.

You bite back a chuckle, and here you still were — by his side. Except next semester you wouldn’t be his T.A.

But you would still be a student. And he would still be a professor.

But one other thing that hasn’t changed is how brutal the feedback is — you couldn’t help but feel bad for “Itadori Yuuji” — whoever that was.

“What are you smiling about?” Your eyes snap up to meet his, his head leaning against his palm, elbow resting on the desk.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but he looks unconvinced, “just thinking about our first time in this office,” and then your cheeks burn at the double meaning, “I mean our first office hours appointment—“

He waves you off, “I know what you meant,” a small chuckle in his cadence, as he continues to grade, “you certainly weren’t happy with me,”

“No I wasn’t,” a small smile on your lips, “but it worked out in the end,” you add, “you got an amazing T.A. after all,”

His eyes meet yours, “More than just that,”

Why can’t you help but get pulled in time and time again? And why can’t you help but ask questions that will only hurt you in the end?

He continues to grade when you finally speak, “What do you think would have happened if I didn’t end up being your T.A.?”

And his pen stops, lips pursed, “We shouldn’t—“

“Why shouldn’t we?” you felt like a child demanding an answer from their parent.

“We agreed—”

“I don’t remember an agreement-”

“It was unspoken—”

You scoff, crossing your arms, “You really are only a professor because an attorney would know that binding agreements can’t be unspoken,” he falls silent, his voice soft.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you,” his words are wrought with conflict, pain seeping into every syllable, “I don’t want to keep going down this road only to for you to get hurt in the end — I don’t want to jeopardize your future for something that might not last—”

“But what if it does?” and he swallows thickly, “what if we can make it work? We’re both adults, we can be discreet—”

“So discreet that we end up making out in my office?” he takes off his glasses only to run a hand down his face, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, and you huff out a chuckle.

“A little more discreet than that, we’ll lock the door next time,” it’s his turn to scoff, and you rise from your seat, lips curled, “close the lights, or maybe even kiss in a place that’s not on campus,” but he does the same, meeting you on the side of his desk, his fingers brushing your cheek so gently as if you’d shatter under his touch.

“I don’t want to stand in the way of your career,” he says, his fingers finding your hand regardless, fingers interlacing, “I don’t want you to—”

“It’s my choice, Suguru,” you murmur, as you lean against his warm palm, your fingers sliding against his palm and into his inky tresses, “don’t you owe me a choice, and a drink?” you add, and his lips curl in a knowing smile.

“I do, if you’ll still have me,” and he’s leaning close, sucking the air from the room, and the logic from your minds, as his lips barely graze yours, “shouldn’t we lock the door?”

“Fuck it,” and you pull him into a deep kiss that pulls a groan from his lips that makes your cunt ache, as he’s already pushing you into the lip of his desk, his hand sliding down to your waist.

“Now who’s being unethical?” he murmurs, pressing eager kisses along your jaw, that makes you melt against him, your legs nearly jelly at this point, “what kind of example are you setting as a T.A.?”

You bite back your moan as his lips find the soft spot of your neck, teeth grazing it far too fucking teasingly, “Well students learn by example,” and his hands are slipping under thighs to lift you so you’re sitting on his desk — you spread your legs for him in the dress that you’re in, pantyhose underneath, his heavy lidded gaze raking over your body, “and look at my professor staring at his T.A. so lustfully, even with a clear power dynamic—”

And his fingers find your thighs again, squeezing, before his fingers dig into the sheer hose, tearing holes in it, drawing a gasp from your lips, “How’s that for a power dynamic, princess?” far too pleased, “don’t worry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he murmurs, “now just be a good girl and spread your legs for me,” he says, as he pulls away the ruined pantyhose, and he’s undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand — one, two, three — before your fingers take over, leaning to press kisses at each inch of exposed skin, until the shirt falls open.

Then his lips find yours again, his silver tongue asking for you to part your lips and you do — as he extracts every want you have with his burning touch — his lips against yours, his large hands parting your thighs, his knee pressed against your twitching cunt — and only leaves your want for him behind, until it becomes a need.

“Wonder what our students would think of you,” his fingers tease your inner thighs, drawing a whine from your lips, “wanting your professor to fuck you in his office instead of inputting their grades,” he whispers in your ear, as his fingers finally skim the wet patch of your underwear, “so wet f’me, already? Look I think you even soaked my slacks,” he tsks, as his thumb and forefinger find your chin and tilt it up, “what are you going to do about that?”

“Suguru—please,” and he smiles as his finger starts to tease your puffy clit through your drenched panties, “don’t tease—”

“How can I not when you’ve nothing but tease me with your existence?” he pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, “I’ll oblige my favorite student this time—but I won’t be so nice next time,” he adds, biting your bottom lip.

RING. RING. RING.

It was his fucking office phone. You groan, but his finger continues to sink into you, “Suguru—”

“Let it ring,” his lips find yours in a bruising kiss as his finger deliciously sinks into you, “I have all I need right here,” he whispers, and you pull him back into a kiss by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, your hand sliding up and down his chest, while he worked a finger into your cunt, “so fucking wet f’me, so perfect,”

And your hand flies back to support yourself as a second finger begins to sink into you — but your hand grazes his office phone, and the messages begin to play back.

“Fuck, sorry,” you mumble, as you reach blindly for the phone, only to knock it back, as he chuckles and reaches behind you, trying but failing to help — your noses brushing, and he smiles before kissing you again.

Mr. Geto, sorry we missed each other, I was calling, hoping that you would still be in office for the day, but I must have just missed you. I wanted to call to offer you the job as department head at Jujutsu Tech University: Kyoto—

You freeze, your lips parting from his as you look up at him, his eyes wide as he stops the message from playing back any further — and the words settle over the mood like a sheet pulled over a dead body.

And you’re the first to speak, always asking the questions that will hurt you in the end, “You’re moving to Kyoto?”

✧ a/n: so i'm sorry for that ending hahah, i promise there will be a happy ending later on for these two. thank you to @gaylatteart and @laneysmusings for betaing and just being the best. also if i tagged you please comment / reblog because tagging on tumblr sucks, it takes very long.

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @bash1018, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala, @ashhlsstuff, @blue041803, @mwtsxri, @bblgumfairy, @sukunasleftkneecap, @xo-evangeline, @fiannee, @teatreeoilll, @chalametet, @ryukaver, @d1gitalbathh, @saga3ious, @seventhcinema, @satosugucide, @your-l0nely-star, @sokkasmoon, @deegausserr, @hyookka, @oggsyy, @littlebitb, @higuchislut, @ti-mame, @itoshisins, @cerene-dipity, @onionsoop, @sinlillith, @izzythenaive, @akvrae, @lalacute03, @rxndou, @c-themoon, @xxrag-d0llxx, @hqtoge, @sugarxlumps, @hopeluna, @actualdeemon,

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru imagines #geto suguru x you #geto x you #geto fanfiction

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tacticalprincess · 5 months ago

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messy blowjobs with mean, older boyfriend könig. because as much as he loves your innocence and lack of experience, he can't help but shame you for it, if only to see the way you pout and feign off tears at his harsh words and patronizing tone. he'll nitpick everything you do; if you're too eager, he'll scold you for being greedy (you might accidentally bite him!) and if you're too hesitant, he'll taunt you for being afraid to handle his size, or guilt trip you for not wanting to pleasure him.

he works you up and teases you with his words and cock for what seems like hours at a time, until you're frustrated and sniffling back your embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to please him correctly. and only then, when you’re nearly choking on your drool and tears, will he loosen the reigns. pity lacing the way he cards through your hair, but his eyes are glazed over with desire as he watches you lick and suck around his girthy, meaty cock, your movements so unpracticed and genuinely curious. sweet little thing, barely concealing a whine when he pulls out to give you a few lovetaps on your cheek and tongue, dirtying your cute face with a mix of your spit and his precum.

"there you go. see? you just need a firm hand, maus. it's the only way you'll learn."

alternatively — ‘throat training’, where he gives you no warning before he’s trying to force himself down your virgin throat, shushing the panicked whimpers that muffle around your sudden mouthful. relishes in the way you gag on his girth, your gummy throat constricting around his dick and creating the perfect suction.

“don’t fight it, little one, you can take it. be good and swallow what i give you, ja?”

apologizes for his brute behavior by kissing your mascara soaked cheeks and holding you close, after you make him cum, of course.

it’s rare nowadays, for a man to be so willing to put up with this degree of naivety and inexperience, the least you can do to show you appreciate his patience by relaxing your throat and warming his cock properly.

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yandere-daydreams · 1 month ago

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Title: Daytrip.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).

Word Count: 5.6k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.

His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.

“What’s up?”

It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”

So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”

There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”

“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”

Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.

Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.

“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”

“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”

“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”

“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”

“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”

“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”

For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.

Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”

Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.

A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.

You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.

(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”

He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”

You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”

“It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”

It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.

There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.

Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.

The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.

“You’re staring.”

“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”

“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”

“Which is?”

“I love you.”

It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.

You changed the topic swiftly.

“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”

“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”

You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”

If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”

“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”

You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.

Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.

If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.

More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.

“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”

“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”

“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”

He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”

Huh.

One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.

One day, but not today.

“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”

You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.

“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.

You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”

“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”

There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”

“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”

The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”

“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”

He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.

Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”

His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”

You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”

It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.

“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”

…

You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.

You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.

You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.

It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.

It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.

Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”

“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”

“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”

“She’s dead.”

You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”

“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”

The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.

Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”

“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.

It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.

You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.

An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”

“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”

It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—

Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.

Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms. It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.

“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”

He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”

He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”

“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”

If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”

“It can wait.”

It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.

You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.

He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”

You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”

The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”

There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.

It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”

You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”

He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”

He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.

“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”

You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.

Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.

You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”

He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.

Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #yandere illumi #illumi x reader #yandere illumi zoldyck #illumi zoldyck x reader

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soobnny · 4 months ago

Text

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

#stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #in x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids fluff #jeongin fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin x y/n #in x you #stray kids x you #jeongin fic #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz scenarios #i.n. x reader #jeongin fanfic

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emmyrosee · 8 months ago

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Awww, I just had a cute thought, what if Yuji braids readers hair before her date with Sukuna and Yuji puts butterfly clips into her hair that goes well with her dress and Sukuna think she’s the prettiest thing in the whole wide world

I wasn’t sure if this was for toddler yuuji or not but it was sent after toddler yuuji sooooo don’t hate me if this isn’t what you meant PFFF-

NO BC YUUJI KEEPS CLOSING THE DOOR ON SUKUNA WHENEVER HE COMES IN TO ASK IF SHE'S READY BC "no, not weady"

“Okay but the reservation’s in 30-“

“Not. Weady.”

And yuuji is so focused on this task, so determined to make you look good, he’s got the tip of his tongue sticking out as his chubby fingers work in various directions and ways, clipping hair here and braiding these strands until he finally cheers and claps his tiny hands and lets you look. Your hair is braided messily, neon butterfly clips nestled in your locks and a few strands out of the braid to frame your face. For such a small boy, he definitely has paid attention to your own styling of hair. Coupled with your makeup, you feel genuinely pleased with the work his tiny hands were able to conjure.

“Awww, yuuji,” you coo, scooping him in your arms and planting a kiss to his head, making him giggle. “You did so good! You think Sukuna’s gonna like it?”

“Sukuna just wants to go!” His gruff voice yells from the other side of the door, and you snort before opening the door, watching as Sukuna’s face of annoyance turns to you, and it melts into one of awe, crimson eyes dancing over your face.

You snort and shake your head, “where’s all that big talk now, huh?”

“I…” he trails off as he lets his eyes glaze over the entirety of your being, and you watch his Adams Apple bob as you continue to beam at him. “You look… fucking beautiful.”

Yuuji gasps at the word, “‘kuna says no-no word!”

“I know, I’ll deal with him later,” you shush, putting down the small child and letting your arms loop around Sukuna’s neck, his hands settling on your waist. “Say thank you to yuuji, he worked very hard on my hair.”

But Sukuna says nothing. He still looks awestruck at you, his lips curving into a small smile of pride before he sinks his teeth into his lip. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Had a hunch,” you assure with a smile. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and you reciprocate the affection eagerly, tightening your arms around him. You hear yuuji giggling as he watches you both kiss, and you pull away to peek down at him, leaving sukuna to keep sponging kisses along your cheeks and jawline.

“Smoochie kiss!” Yuuji croons, and you reach down to ruffle his hair happily, relishing in the warmth of your chosen family.

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boyfhee · 5 months ago

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박성훈 、COUPLE CODE

sunghoon pouts when he's jealous.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ light kissing, jealous sunghoon ( 1061 )

notes ⋆ brought the heat back is making me want to write jealous fics for every single member i can't do this. anyway RICH BOY HOON WLCM BACK!!!!

“you’re pouting,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand but he slides it out of yours ever so swiftly.

“i’m not pouting,” sunghoon mumbles, not even caring to look at you as he makes long strides to a secluded corner, away from the chatter of the charity event his parents dragged him to along with themselves.

“you’re not good at lying,” you snort, following him wherever he’s going. he gives you a little run for himself when he’s like this— literally, because you keep increasing your pace, having a hard time keeping up with him. and when you finally do, hands around his wrist to stop him. “c’mon hoon, you don’t have to be jealous,”

“jealous?” he huffs, jerking his hand out of your grip as if you’ve insulted him, the words bruising his ego. “you’re saying i am jealous? what makes you say that?”

“it’s written all over your face,” you reply with a sigh, eyes glazing over his expression and the very obvious pout that he keeps denying is there. you simply stare at him for a few seconds before shaking your head and reaching out to cup his face. “you’re jealous and you’re pouting. it’s the most adorable thing in the world,”

and sunghoon would be lying if he said those words didn’t give him butterflies, especially with the way your hands are on his cheeks, squishing them a little to make his lips jut further in a pout.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he huffs in mock offence, eyes looking away from your face as if he does not like this, albeit having no attempt at pushing you away.

you know he’s just being dramatic, fists clenched on his sides even though you know his hands are itching to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer. it’s cute, even though you don’t particularly enjoy seeing him upset and it’s obvious that he can sense how much fun you’re having, which makes him pout even more.

“is this about jongseong?”

“jongseong?” his eyes narrow at your face, the said name ringing in his head again and again as he takes your hands and pulls them away from his face, although still holding him ever so gently, contrary to the look in his eyes. “you’re on a first name basis with him?”

“we’re friends,” you giggle at the way his eyes squint further at your words— and he couldn’t be more obvious with that pout on his lips. “i don’t attend these events often so dad wants me to socialise,”

“you’re socialising with the enemy,” sunghoon glares at you, prompting out a chuckle from you at his words. he frowns at your reaction, making you laugh even more.

“you hate him, i don’t,”

“boyfriend’s enemy is your enemy too. that’s the couple code,” he states bitterly, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with yours. his brows are furrowed in irritation, lips still in a never ending pout— you think you love this version of sunghoon more.

sunghoon doesn’t pout.

as he claims, most of the time, even though you know it’s not really true. he pouts when you don’t give him attention, or when he calls you in disappointment to cancel the dates because his dad wants him to assist him with work and election campaigns— you can hear that pout through the phone when he speaks. sometimes, when your phone rings up between your lazy make out sessions, he pouts again, and you have to make sure your eyes are on him as your fingers trace over his lips and cheeks while you’re trying to get over that call as soon as possible.

even now, when you two are silent and he’s looking down, fiddling with your fingers, you notice how his lips switch between a pout and an irritated scowl, the way he huffs at how absurd it all seems to him. and sunghoon is not a very jealous man— well, not until now. you’re used to him brushing it off when you tell him about some guy trying to get your number. ‘well you turned him down and you’re here in my arms so i don’t care—’ the usual response.

although, you know about the rivalry between him and jongseong— jay, as sunghoon would like you to address the other guy— nothing could’ve made you assume that your dear boyfriend would be jealous over just a ten minutes conversation with him. you didn’t want to make him jealous, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this little exchange.

“no more talking to jay. he’s the worst,” he mumbles, looking up at you with the exhibition of his bruised pride in his eyes. “and no more calling him jongseong too,”

“we’re friends, hoon,”

“he was interested in you,” he insists and words get stuck in your throat. it’s not a secret that jay had tried asking you out several times. there’s no doubt he was— or is still interested in you, if there’s any chance. you wouldn’t want to make sunghoon upset over that either way.

“valid,” you nod, agreeing with him to console his shattered ego, although trying to come to a conclusion in the middle. “okay, no more talking to jay when you’re not around,”

“good,” sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before pressing his lips against your cheeks. “he sucks anyway,”

“true, i don’t like his attitude,” you nod in an attempt to humour him.

and he’s not exactly convinced, since you and jay have been friends ever since you changed majors last year. he doesn’t ponder over that much, pouring all his attention on you and peppering your face with tender pecks.

“and he’s not cute like me either when he pouts,” he pulls back after capturing your lips in a chaste kiss and puts his forehead against yours. you know you two should be getting back to the event, knowing your absence will not go unnoticed by either of your parents, but sunghoon has been through a lot today— as he will say it later— and so you decide to hold him in your arms a little longer.

“of course not,” you say with a kiss on the top of his head when he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. his continues to draw soft circles on your waist through your dress, something that makes you hug him tighter. “you’re the cutest,”

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koostattoos · 3 months ago

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➳ wait for your love || j.jk

~ Synopsis — simply loving is not enough

~ Genre — strangers to friends(?) to lovers, college au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, slight fwb, unrequited love

Warnings/content — 3D jk, light angst, smut, major fluff, jk is a fuckboy, yearning, a lot of miscommunication, a lot of crying, smoking, slight drinking, he rides a motorcycle, oc is a bad b, big dick!jk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (f&m. receiving), 69, soft sex, missionary, doggy, aftercare (he's not a total asshole), multiple sex scenes, consensual sex tape, multiple orgasms, pining, complicated feelings, poor communication, bad boy!jk, ot7 cameo!

~ words — 25.6k

• currently play — we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by Ariana Grande and opera house by Cigarettes After Sex

“you got me misunderstood but atleast i look this good, we can’t be friends but i’d like to just pretend, you cling to your paper and pens, wait until you like me again, wait for your love

“i’ve got a love for you i just can’t escape, all of my love for you cuts me like barbed wire"

playlist <3

Love is a strange thing. A very complicated feeling to figure out yet some find it very simple. In this case, love is something that she found simple, it was something she was fond of when she saw her friends experience it. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel it; he refused to. Deep down inside, he knew he couldn’t reciprocate the feeling of love. He tried so hard to, but he just couldn’t grasp on tight enough. So, he did what he did best, he let everything go.

Jungkook can’t think straight. He’s been stored away in his apartment for the past few days. Unable to get up from bed and be productive, wasting away and rotting in his room. His roommate and best friend, Jimin, has been managing the place himself; cleaning, cooking, basically everything a home needs to function. He’s done everything he possibly could to get his friend out of his room. “Jungkook-ah, you need to get up. It’s three o'clock in the afternoon and I haven’t seen you all day, you need to eat” he calls from outside his door

It’s silent on the other end of the room; only shuffling could be heard from his bed. Jungkook hasn’t heard anything back from you since your argument. It’s been radio silent from your end the phone. He constantly checks his phone to find something from you. He misses your voice. He misses you. He couldn’t bring himself to bother you even more. Not after the damage he’s caused to you and your relationship.

Summer

The bell at the top of the door constantly rings through the busy cafe as customers come and go. It’s been getting busier as the weather outside begins to heat up with the season change. Your hair is kept away from covering your face with a hair tie pulling it away in a low ponytail. The air conditioner is blasting cool air and keeping the hot air where it’s supposed to be, outside.

“Order for Jihoon!” you yell over the bustling cafe. You’ve been told that summer is one of the busiest times of the year for the cafe, second to winter time. The bell rings once again with new incoming customers, you look up from the cash register to find a young man around your age entering with his friends. His big and bold eyes find contact with yours across the room. A smile is displayed on his face, deep dimples grow as he laughs at whatever his friend says. He parts from his friends as he walks up to you to place an order. “Hello, what can I get for you today?,” he stares up at the menu behind you, glazing through his options. “Uh, let’s see” he pauses.

“Can I please get three iced americanos and,” he turns to look back at his friends again. “Which one did you want?” he asked the boy with the blonde hair “The chocolate muffin” The boy in front of you turned back to you. “And the chocolate muffin,” he repeated

You ring up his order and hand him his receipt. “Your total will be fifteen dollars and twelve cents” he fishes out for his wallet in his pocket and hands you the money. He watches you as you continue with the register. “And can I get a name for the order?”

“Yes, Jungkook” he smiles at you

For some odd reason, his heart rate picks up as he’s talking to you. A strand of hair falls in front of your face and he can’t help but notice how pretty you are. Jungkook’s never seen you in town before. Snapping out of his trance you place your hand out to give him his remaining change. “Alright, your order will be out in just a few minutes, Jungkook” Reaching his hand out, he takes the money and nods his head to you. “Thank you,” he looks down at your name tag and gives you a bright smile. “___”

The kind look he gives makes your cheeks turn into a rosy red. Tucking the piece of hair that’s fallen out of place behind your ear, you smile back at him. Jungkook walks back sitting at a small table his friends decided to sit at and takes a seat in front of his blonde friend. “She was cute,” Jimin finally says, having watched the interaction between you and his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her around here before. She must be new to town," his other friend, Taehyung says. “Me neither, but she is pretty though,” He says as he plays with the small piece of paper you handed to him. That same smile reappears on Jungkook’s lips. “You should go ask her for her number, it’s been what? Years? Since you last got some” Jimin teases.

“It hasn’t been years, dumbass. I just don’t want to jump into anything. I think it’s a waste of time”, It’s true. Jungkook hasn’t had a serious relationship since he was a junior in high school going into his senior year. He’s a senior in college now. Now he’s perfectly fine finding himself some fun, and by fun, he means sleeping with a handful of many different women; he doesn’t need a specific person to do that with. “Order for Jungkook!” your voice resounds in the now-settled cafe. Perking up at the sound of his name, the chair screeches across the floor as Jungkook stands up to retrieve his food.

“Thank you,” he says again. “You’re welcome,” you give him a sweet smile. This time, Jungkook’s the one to blush. You watch as he gives you a small smile back, picking up his food, and turning back around to his group of friends.

“We miss you over here, it’s like nothing is fun anymore” You didn’t have much choice but to leave your friends back at your old school. The school here offered you much better opportunities than they did back in Gwangju. Taking a leap of faith, you packed your stuff and moved everything to Incheon. You knew little to no people here. Having never been here you had zero time to make any friends. Everything happened so suddenly you have had your main focus on trying to survive off of a fresh start. The move happened in the middle of summer break.

Hoseok agreed to drive down to help you move all your stuff into your new apartment. The dorms were more expensive than you had thought, so getting a summer job and looking for cheaper housing was your best bet at living to see a new day in this new city. “I miss you guys too. You guys should come down here. Leave Gwangju for a bit, I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in ages” The rest of your friends decided to stay back and plan out their new classes for the new upcoming year.

Sure, you were disappointed, but you didn’t want to hold them back from planning their future. They had been supportive of your decision to move three hours away from them. You had told them that they could visit you whenever they wanted to.

“Yeah, I know. I promise I’ll get everyone down there whenever we can, don’t have too much fun over there without me though!” he teases you over the phone. Laughing at him, you pull your keys out from your pocket to unlock your door. Stepping inside your phone is placed between your cheek and your shoulder as you balance holding your new house plant and a small box you had forgotten in your car.

You close your door shut with your foot and place the box on your small dining table. Your apartment was small but big enough to fit two people. The living room wasn’t as big but your bedroom was a decent size. You don’t regret picking this place out, it was like living in a cot where no one could bother you. “How could I when you're the life of the party” you laugh. Hoseok shakes his head as if you could see him. “Hey, I gotta go now. Be safe over there and if you need any help I’m one phone call away. I love you”

“Love you too, Hobi” Pulling your phone away you hear three beeps indicating the ending call. Walking over to the little window sill in your living room you place the overgrown plant there, making sure it’s angled enough to get the sunlight that it needs. Slumping down on the couch you pick up the remote laid on the armrest and turn on the TV. Playing whatever’s on as background noise. Sitting there and relishing your day, there’s one specific highlight of today that catches your attention. That boy who came by the cafe today, Jungkook.

His bright boba eyes and his dimpled features play back into your head. His face is stuck in the forefront of your mind for the rest of the night. You hope that one day you will see him again

“No, I swear she looked just like Jessica Rabbit,” Jimin continued about the girl he saw on campus a few days ago. Taehyung was immersed in his friend’s story. But however Jungkook can’t find himself to indulge in his friend’s new ‘eye candy’ as Jimin liked to say. He found himself staring into space, thinking about you the whole way home. Jungkook has never found enough time to fond over some random woman he’s spent his time with.

But he can not find a way to get you away from his thoughts. Something about you keeps pulling him in and he can’t seem to escape it. “Hey, Jungkookie. You good?” Jimin shakes his arm a bit. He doesn’t even realize that they are at their apartment already. He hadn’t realized how long he spent thinking about you. “Yeah, yeah I’m good” he shakes his head and pulls his keys from his pocket.

Flipping the light switch to brighten up the room, the beeping of the door closing surrounds the room. “I’m gonna go wash up” Jimin watches as his friend walks over to his room. Weird. He thinks. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook turns to look over to Jimin. “Yeah, I’m good, '' he says as if it weren't obvious. Jimin walks closer to him, examining his face. “I don’t know it just seems like something’s bothering you” The worried expression growing on his face convinces Jungkook to fess up.

“That girl, at the cafe, I can’t get her off my mind. We hadn’t even exchanged that many words and I can’t stop thinking about her,” He walks over to his couch and slumps down in defeat. A grin grows on Jimin's plump lips, taking a seat next to his young friend. “I knew it,” a smug look on his face. “Bro, I told you to ask for her number. She seemed into you too” he says with a nudge to his shoulder, enthusiasm growing in his tone. Jungkook rubs a hand over his tired face and stands up again.

“I don’t know if she makes me feel something. I don’t know what it is but I don’t like it” You make butterflies erupt in his tummy, his heart beats faster, and you turn his cheeks rosy. Just looking at you he feels like he’s known you for a long time. And he’s just met you today. “I should just sleep on it, I’ll see how I feel in the morning. Who knows? Maybe I’ll completely forget about her when I wake up tomorrow”

That was in fact, a lie. You were the first thing that popped up in Jungkook’s mind. Today he had a full agenda, it was registration week for classes. He wanted so badly to get rid of this feeling in the pit of his stomach. Walking into the shared bathroom, Jungkook walks in to get ready for the day. Through the mirror he sees Jimin emerging from his room, barely getting up from his bed. His shoulders slouched, his hair messy from sleep, and his eyes closed to still being closed from his slumber.

“We need to be there by eight o’clock,” Jungkook tells him, mouth full of toothpaste. He gets a low hum in response from the kitchen. After finishing up in the bathroom, Jungkook walks out to prepare everything he needs. This is their last year in college, they needed to make the most of it. The screen of his phone lights up as he taps it to read the time. They had less than an hour to get out the door. Jungkook is ready with his things sitting next to him on the couch, he only has to wait for Jimin to finish. Nothing better to do than scroll through Instagram like random girls’ posts and keep up with the media.

He somehow finds himself in his search bar. Moving his fingers over the keyboard, your name is what pops up. After searching for what had to be about a minute, he finds a picture of you smiling. You are with a group of friends surrounded by a table and playing what seems like a board game. Jungkook doesn’t notice the smile growing on his face until he hears Jimin walk out to the living space.

“What are you smiling at?” He immediately shuts his phone off and looks up at his friend. “Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Let’s go I don’t wanna be late” Shrugging his shoulders Jimin walks over to his bag, sits on the chair at the dining table and walks to the door.

When they got to the campus, which was only a fifteen-minute walk from their apartment, it was filled with college students. Some ran over to their friends that hadn’t seen in a while and some hung around, to themselves. Jungkook had slight hopes of seeing you here, registering as everybody else. Roaming the area he watches as different clubs set up booths, some standing by trying to get the freshman to sign up for their club.

Jungkook has lost sight of Jimin, finding himself with his other friends. Now he’s by himself watching other students in his class lurk around, making fun of the lower class for being lost. It’s not until he finds himself on his phone again, looking through your profile again. It seemed like you liked to travel, you’ve been to Japan, Italy, and many other foreign countries.

You seemed like a bubbly person, based on how you present yourself on social media.

His eyes found the clock again, and he had to get ready for his class.

“Mom, I’m alright. I’m finding my way around campus. It’s big but I’ll get the hang of it. Stop worrying so much” Your mom has been calling you almost every day to check in on how you are settling in your new home. Of course, she was supportive but she was going to miss you. You’ve never been this far from your mother let alone living without her. You had your own apartment but it was still close to her. The bond you had with your mother was special to you.

“Okay, honey. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, I miss you” It’s only a few minutes before your lecture starts and the class is almost filled with students. You hadn’t realized how many people majored in psychology “I gotta go, Mom. I’ll talk to you later,” placing your tote bag down next to you. You see the professor walk in with a book in his hand. “Alright, I love you and stay safe”

“I will, I love you too”

As you settle down in your seat you hear the door open again. This time, you see a familiar face. The boy you couldn’t stop thinking about walks down your row, sitting a few seats away from you. You don’t realize the butterflies flying in your tummy when you watch. “Okay, everyone” Your professor's voice booms through the room. “My name is Namseok but you can call me professor Choi”

As the lesson is nearing its end you raise your hand to ask a question. “Yes, missis?” he pauses, waiting for your response

“___” Jungkook’s ears perk up at your voice. His head turned to the sound of your voice. “Yes, what are your questions?” Pulling your hand down to rest on your lap you speak up. “Are you available after class? I’d like to ask a few questions” Professor Choi shakes his head and walks back behind his desk. “Yes, please, come and see me after class and we will discuss whatever you need” Jungkook still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you spoke. Too immersed in how beautiful you looked today, out of your work uniform and in normal clothes.

“Well it seems like class is over for today. Good job everyone and I will see you on Thursday” Everyone collectively stands up and makes their way to the exit door. You on the other hand stay behind to ask a few questions. Instead of taking the normal way out like the other students. Jungkook walks the opposite way, past you. Watching as a muscular figure walks past you, you look up to see his face. He’s already looking down to you and you can feel your warm cheeks express a slight red color.

It’s until he turns back around to look at you that you fold. He was extremely handsome, how could you not?

Your shift at the cafe was about to begin. It’s the middle of lunch time and the cafe has become busy. Sometimes you regret not signing up for afternoon classes. Night shifts are the busiest with the many college students coming in to study. Once again the ringing bell flows through your ears as customers walk through the door. You have yet to make any true friends around here. The only ‘friend’ you have is your co-worker, Yejoon. She helped you out on your first day but she spends most of her time in the back making the food for hungry students.

Too busy watching the TV placed in the corner of the room you don’t see the same muscle figure you saw in your lecture class. “Hey,” he says. Tattooed arm out on display, chains adorning his neck. His body doesn’t match his face at all, with cute boba eyes twinkling like there are stars in them, and a button nose with small moles placed haphazardly.

“You’re in my psych class right?” he says, holding his weight up with his hands on the counter. You look up at him with squinted eyes. “Yeah, I am. I saw you today at the end of class. Why didn’t you go out with the other students?” This question catches him off guard. He needed to come up with an excuse, quick. “Uh, there’s another door that leads to a different building, I have a class there” Smooth. Nodding your head, you look behind him and watch as the line begins to grow. “Jungkook? Was it?” he nods his head at you, ensuring you are right.

“Well, Jungkook. If you don’t mind if you're gonna stay here and chit chat I suggest moving out of my line. I have a crowd of hungry college students and I don’t intend on putting up with their attitude” You say with a scrunch of your nose. Jungkook puts his hands up as if he’s surrendering and throws you a smile. “I didn’t mean to take long, I just came up here to ask you something” You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“Can I have your number?” Bold. You think. “If you step out of my line maybe I’ll consider it” you tell him and he steps to the side so he’s not in the way of customers. “Hi, I’m sorry for holding up the line what I can get for you” You ask the middle aged man that was after Jungkook. “You wouldn’t have to be sorry if you just told your boyfriend to fuck off” Shock is read all over your face. You are not in the mood to handle rude customers today. “First of all, sir, he is not my boyfriend. Again I apologize for the wait. It’s on the house,” you tell the man. Jungkook stands there watching the interaction go down.

For some reason this makes him even more eager to get your number. You look over to him as you wait for the next customer to tell you their order. “This might take a while, take a seat anywhere you’d like” you point with your head as you tell him to wait. It’s not until the very end of your shift that you realize that he’s still here, waiting for you.

You step away from behind the counter and take your apron off. “I can’t believe you waited” you say under your breath walking closer to him. He looks up as he sees you from the corner of his eye. The chair scraping across the floor as he stands from his chair. “Of course I waited, I made it my mission to leave this place with some sort of way of communicating with you” This surprises you. You’ve never met this guy in your life and now after a small meet he’s determined to get to know you.

“Well, I’ll give you my Instagram. Number is too personal” he scoffs at that. Thankfully, he deleted your user from his search beforehand. Handing you his phone you type in your user and follow your account. Your pocket buzzes with a notification from your phone. Pulling your phone out you read the notification.

ggukkie has followed you

You smile as you read his user. You click on the tab and follow him back. His phone vibrates with a new notification and he reads your username

yeojacoure has followed you

Smiling as he looks up from his phone he says “I’ll see you soon then?” You pull your hair from your hair tie and he watches as it flows down your shoulders. “I guess so, Jungkook” He begins to walk away and before he can walk out the door he calls out for you. “Goodnight” you reply with the same.

Feeling giddy inside Jungkook unlocks his phone and finds your account opening your message.

ggukkie: So how can I get your number? 7:43 pm

You look down at your phone as you exit through the back entrance. You read the text Jungkook had sent you only a few minutes ago. Smiling like an idiot you reply back.

yeojacoure: By earning it 😉 [7:49 pm]

ggukkie: And how do i do that? [7:49 pm]

yeojacoure: Figure it out 😊 [7:50 pm]

ggukkie: C’mon don’t tease now [7:52pm]

yeojacoure: Not teasing [7:52 pm]

yeojacoure: You’re a smart boy, you can do it! [7:53 pm]

He smile he cannot contain spreads on his lips

ggukkie: Alright, if working for it is what it takes then i guess that’s what i’ll do smh [7:53 pm]

When you think he’s done another text comes in

ggukkie: Are you free Saturday?[ 7:59 pm]

Your heart picks up once again because of him. What could he possibly have in mind?

yeojacoure: Yes… Why are you asking? [8:00 pm]

ggukkie: Let’s hang out [8:00 pm]

You think about it for a minute. You were just complaining about

having no friends in town. Maybe it’s time you make some.

yeojacoure: Okay sure, what do you have in mind? [8:03 pm]

ggukkie: It’s a surprise 😉 [8:03 pm]

ggukkie: If you get to be all secretive on me then I can be too [8:03 pm]

yeojacoure: okay fine, as long as you don’t plan to murder me then okay [8:04 pm]

ggukkie: Why would I want to kill someone as beautiful as you? [8:04 pm]

This gets you to blush, hard. You feel like kicking your feet up and swinging them like a dumb teenage girl. You take a minute to breathe before responding back to him.

yeojacoure: shut up [8:06 pm]

yeojacoure: I’ll see you Saturday [8:06 pm]

Jungkook smiles at your final text and finally starts to make his way back to his apartment. He hasn’t felt like this since his junior year of high school and it scares him a bit.

Days have gone by since Jungkook practically begged for your number at the cafe. You’ve seen him around campus but never bothered to interact with him. Except for your psychology class, he made the empty space next to you his permanent seat. It’s now Saturday, he was supposed to take you out today but he never told you a time or a place. Now you’re sitting in your little apartment semi-dressed for an unknown plan.

You had given him your address in class, which he got in trouble for talking to your professor. He says it’s not far from where he lived and you remember he gave you a disgusting little smile.

It is getting darker now, the sun beginning to set behind the city and the lights illuminating the lively city. Now you are having doubts that he will even show up. “I don’t know, Hobi. He told me he’d pick me up but he never gave me a time and he hasn’t texted me or called me at all” you talk to your best friend over the phone.

“Relax, I’m sure he will show eventually. If he doesn’t show then why was he so desperate to get your number?” you sigh. He does have a point.

Your doubts are crushed when you hear your doorbell ring in your ears. “Oh my God, okay, he’s here. I’ll call you when I get back”

“Okay, be safe and if anything happens and I don’t hear back from you. I’m driving my ass down there and calling the police” you chuckle at your friend. “I will, I gotta go” you click the red button to end the call.

You walk over to the door to look through the tiny hole on the door. Making sure you aren’t opening the door to some stranger.

“Told you I’d surprise you” He says when the door opens. His eyes follow you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything special. A short off the shoulder long sleeve with a bow tying around the back and jeans. “Yeah, I started to doubt you’d even show up. It’s practically night out already.” you roll your eyes at him as you walk out the door. Not before grabbing your purse off the dining table.

“Awh were you waiting for me” he teases. You nudge him with an arm as you walk side by side down the hall to the elevator. When it does arrive a small family comes out before you enter. Pressing the bottom floor Jungkook makes small conversation. “You look pretty tonight” you reply back with a small “Thank you,” a blush starting to rise to your cheeks once again. “Where are you even taking me?”

“Well if I tell you it wouldn’t be a surprise, but since you’re so insistent then I’ll tell you,” the door to the elevator opens as it stops on your desired floor. “I’m taking you around the city, I remember you told me once after class that you’ve had any idea around so I’m showing you” your heart picks up once again at the thought of him remembering little things that you said. It seems to do that a lot when you’re around him.

When you reach the parking garage you don’t see any car in sight. “Where’s your car?” He walks up to a motorcycle and taps the back of it. “Right here” your eyebrows raise in confusion. He hadn’t told you he was picking you up in this. “You’re kidding me, right? We’re driving this?” a bit of hesitation can be heard in your voice. A smirk appears on his face as he watches your face full of worries. How cute. He thinks.

“Oh c’mon, I drive safe. You have nothing to be worried about” he places gentle hands on your arms. You lean a bit to the side to look back at the vehicle. Looking back up at him you let out a sigh and reluctantly agree. “Atta girl” he picks up the helmet that was set on top of the bike. He pushes it into your arms, confusion begins to settle on your face. “What about you? What if you get hurt?”

Your brows furrow once again in worry. He has the urge to pinch your cheeks from how adorable you look but he refrains himself and nudges your chin with his finger. “Don’t worry about me, hmm? I’ve done this plenty of times,” he moves to stand in front of you and he looks down at your small frame.

“Can you trust me?” he says.

You give him a look that isn’t convincing but you nod anyway. “Good, now hop on.” He moves to throw his leg over the bike and he kicks the stand up. You place the helmet on and do the same as him. “Now, hold on tight. I’m responsible for you tonight. Can’t have you getting hurt” he says, patting the side of your thigh. The loud roaring of the engine resounds through the big garage, making you jump slightly.

When you get to the highway he picks up the speed and you hold his waist just a bit tighter, praying you don’t crash with his slightly reckless driving. His hand lets go of one of the handles and you feel him place it over yours intertwining your fingers.

As you ride through the city the lights from buildings light up the dark streets. Slight suspicion grows in your mind when Jungkook turns into a small alleyway. Nothing but trash bins aligned on a wall and a door leading into the building next to you. “Jungkook, where are we?” he pulls his hand out in front of you to help you off his bike, taking it kindly. You pull off the helmet and place it on one of the handles. “One of the places I want to show you”

“One of these places?” he turns his head to you and gives you a small smile. “Big city means lots of places to discover” He pulls the handle of the door and you’re hit with loud chatter and warm light. It’s a small bar filled with laughter and low lights. It’s not as packed as it is outside in the streets. “Ya! Jungkook-ah,” you hear a deep voice call for Jungkook from one of the tables. A man with round glasses and a pretty smile calls him over to his table. “I haven’t seen you in a while” he brings the younger one into a hug. “Yeah, well I’ve been caught up with school and whatnot”

The taller man’s attention is drawn to you now. You feel small under his gaze. “And who is this? A girlfriend?” he teases him, pulling him into a headlock. Jungkooks face scrunches with a smile displaying his bunny-like teeth. He pushes the older man off of him and fixes his hair. “This is a friend,” he corrects him. Jungkook looks down to you and introduces you to his friend. “___ this is Namjoon, an old friend of mine”

“Hey! I’m not that old,” he slaps the younger one on the back of his head, you let out a snicker. “It’s nice to meet you ___, I see that Jungkookie here has finally come out of his shell” you let out a giggle. “Hyung, stop embarrassing me, gosh” he hides his face behind his hand. “I’m just teasing you” his gaze falling back on you. “So what brings you to Incheon?” you look down to play with the bracelet on your wrist. “Well, I was originally going to school in Gwangju, but I found out that they had better plans here for me than they did back over there,”

“Ahh I see, I hope you find comfort here. It is a big city but you’ll get around. If anything you have me and Jungkook here to help you if you need it,” conversation begins to flow smoothly between the two of you. Jungkook had taken a seat next to you, placing his arm on the back of your chair as he listened to you converse with his friend. He can’t help but admire the way you look right now. Your smile radiates warmth all around and the way your eyes shine in the light. He feels like he can look at you for hours on end.

“It was nice meeting you, I hope to see you soon” Namjoon’s eyes gaze over to Jungkook, with a smug smirk on his lips. Rolling his eyes at him he turns his head to the side shying away to hide his rosy cheeks. “It was nice meeting you too, Namjoon. I had a great time,” with a wave he turns the corner of the building and disappears into the night. It’s silent between the two of you now, you look up at Jungkook standing next to you. He looks down at you and furrows his brows, “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Are we gonna stand here all night or are we going to have fun? Hmm,” a grin displaying on your face as you walk past him and lift the helmet off the place you left it. Chuckling Jungkook straddles the bike and looks back.

“Hop on” The roaring of the engine rings through your ears once again and through the small alleyway. The city lights have become slightly dimmer now that it’s getting later into the night. Fewer people roam the streets but still many young souls live their young lives with their friends.

The drive to your next destination takes a bit longer. It’s close to leaving the city. The sign you read as you enter the small area is ‘Songdo Central Park’. The small streets go on for miles as booths pile up down the line. Jungkook parks on one of the many sidewalks and helps you with your bike.

“What is this place?” you say.

“Central Park, I come here sometimes to clear my mind,” he walks mindlessly with you trailing behind him.

The lights of the monument in the middle of the park are bright lighting up the path. Walking side by side now, you watch as Jungkook takes in the cool, summer air, hands swaying next to each other, and fingers brushing against each other. You point at a booth selling candied fruits and tug on his jacket.

“Can we get some?” your big eyes looking at his. How could he resist you? Obliging, he gives you a small shake of his head and follows you to the booth.

“Hello! What can I get for you?” the nice old lady asks.

Fruits skewered on a stick in her hand as she dips it in a sugary coating. “Can, please get, uhmm” you place a hand on your chin looking through the small collection of fruit. “Which one should we get?” you turn to Jungkook, who has been staring at you the whole time, and he looks over the tray of sweet snacks. “Let’s get one strawberry and a mix of both with grapes,” he tells the lady with a sweet smile.

She grabs the fruits and places it in small trays for the both of you. “That will be five dollars, please” Jungkook hands her cash he had stored in his pocket. “Thank you!” you say as you wave her goodbye. Walking in silence enjoying your snack Jungkook can’t help but feel nervous now that he’s next to you. You bring the fruits to his lips and you place your hand underneath to catch the falling crumbs. “You want some?” he looks at your adorable face as you wait for him to take a bite.

Taking the sweet red fruit in his mouth a piece of sugar falls from it, landing in your hand. You bring it to your mouth and take the hard sweet. Jungkook’s heart pace speeds up for an unknown reason and you continue on as if nothing happened, finishing off what’s left of your treat. Clearing his throat he asks, “How do you like the city so far?” looking ahead of him. A couple playing with their little dog as it runs around in the grass.

Your eyes follow his and you can feel a smile grow on your lips. “I like it, but I feel like there’s only so much that I can explore in one day”

You walk over to throw both of your trash away and you find a bench in front of the small lake in the middle of the park. Walking over to it and taking a seat Jungkook follows suit. “I can show you so many other places if you’d let me” a grin growing on his lips.

You look to the side of you and give him a small smile “I don’t know, Jeon. I’d have to think about that one” you laugh. “Oh c’mon, I know my way around the city. I can show you so much more” the night continues on with laughter and playful banters. You don’t notice the time passing until your phone rings with a notification. “Oh, shit. It’s getting late we should get going” Jungkook stands from his seat and stretches his hand out for you to grab. Taking it, he pulls you from your seat and he doesn’t let go until you find yourselves back at his bike.

About an hour later, your apartment building comes into sight as you turn the corner of your street. Jungkook comes to a slow stop near the entrance of your parking garage and parks his bike. Taking off the helmet for the last time tonight you run your fingers through your hair making sure your hair was kept well. Hopping off, Jungkook places the helmet down on the seat of the bike. “Can I walk you?”

“Yes, you can '' the look in your eye is something he can’t quite make out but it makes his tummy do backflips. You walk in front of him to the lobby of your apartment and press on the button with the arrow pointing up to the upper floors.

It dings immediately given the late hour of the night, assuming everyone is fast asleep by now. The ride up to your apartment was silent. The only sound in the small elevator was going up the few floors you lived above.

The door rings and its doors open wide for you to exit. You walked down the short hall and stopped at your door, turning around to face Jungkook. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he looks at anything but you. Feeling the nervous crawling back into his chest. You are the first one to speak, “I had fun today, Jungkook '' your smile eases him a bit. “I’m glad you did, my offer still stands, you know”

You think about the time you spent at the park, you are still taking it into deep consideration leaning towards saying yes to him again. You only respond back with, “I’ll think about it” he laughs, his head hanging low at your unclear answer. Sighing he looks past your head at the wall behind you. He builds up the courage to ask you again. “So, how about that number?” you burst out laughing. Covering your mouth trying to keep quiet in courtesy of your neighbors. “What makes you think, you’ve earned my number?”

A hint of laughter still hidden your voice. “Well, I did take you out and gave you a good time. I think I deserve it” You think about it for a minute. “I’ve decided to make this easier for you, I’ll make it like an easter egg hunt” you jump up with enthusiasm. He looks at you with confusion, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you clues! You can earn each digit one by one” you say proudly. He chuckles at your antics, accepting you challenge him and he nods his head. “Okay, when do I get my first clue?” you look around trying to think of something clever. “Ahh! It’s in my address,” he looks up to the numbers on your door deciphering which one of the four numbers could be in yours. “That’s your only hint”

“You really are a tease, you know that” , shaking his head. You only smile up at him, nose scrunched. “You should get going, it’s late.”

“Yeah,” it’s silent for a moment before Jungkook speaks up one last time tonight. “I liked tonight with you ___,” you look down, shy. “I did too, Jungkook. You aren’t as bad as I thought you would” you tease him. Rolling his eyes at your gesture, he nudges the bottom of your chin with his finger and lifts his head looking down at you “I thought you’d be a handful, but I guess you're tolerable” you slightly push on his shoulder. He grabs your wrist and you both stop for a moment.

You don’t realize how close you have become. Faces close together. Slowly leaning in, Jungkook's eyes gravitate to your soft, pink lips. Before your lips could touch your head moved to the side, whispering in his ear, “Goodnight, Jungkook” your hand leaves the nape of his neck and you turn your door. Before it could close, you locked eyes with Jungkook, one last time.

Once he can’t see you anymore, Jungkook lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He turns to make his way back to his bike holding on to his chest where his heart lies. The feeling erupting in his chest feels foreign to him. Something he hasn’t felt in years. It scares him. It’s something he refuses to let himself feel. Maybe he just needs to sleep. Maybe he’s just tired from the long day he’s had.

Hopping on his bike. He makes his way back home, thinking about the digits of your address, dissecting them. Determination stays on his mind for the rest of the night.

A small crowd of students file into the quiet library. Books surround you with knowledge of classes that you are taking. A pencil clad in your hand as you think of more notes to write down on your notebook in front of you. Jungkook has been texting you since the day he took you out. Asking you random questions throughout the day, but to your surprise he hasn’t said a single thing about your number.

You jump a bit in your seat when the chair in front of you screeches against the floor. When you look up you see Jungkook’s handsome face, a chuckle coming from his lips at your reaction. “Hi” he says in a whisper. Shaking your head at him you go back to writing your notes. “How did you know I was here?” He watches as you write down words on your piece of paper. His tattooed hand reaches out and starts playing with the edge of the paper and you look up at him. “I was on my way to get some lunch and saw you through the window, you don’t work today?” his head tilts to the side like a puppy dog. You shake your head, “No, I have a day off today and I wanted to spend it studying. But I can’t do that with you bothering me” he rolls his eyes and lets go of the paper.

It’s silent for only a minute before he starts speaking again. “When will you be done?” He's like a nagging child, always in need for attention. You let out a sigh of frustration and put your pencil down beside the notebook. “You don’t have any other friends you can annoy?” a small pout forms on his lips. Sulking, because of your attitude.

“I wanna hang out with you” you try one more time to focus on studying. Opening one of the books lying beside you. A loud groan comes from the big baby in front of you and you quietly slam the book shut. “Fine! What do you want to do,” placing your remaining things into your bag and you stand from your chair to pull it over your shoulder. Jungkook beats you to it, though. Placing the white tote bag over his shoulder and carrying it out with him. Puffing a breath of air out you follow him to the door.

The weather is nice today, it wasn’t too hot like those other summer days. It seems to be cooling down. “Where are we eating?” you ask behind him. He turns his head to look back at you and slows his pace down to match yours. “This place that serves the most delicious pork belly,” his posture straight, determined to get to the restaurant as fast as possible. Before he came into the library he had already been planning to ask you out to lunch with him.

He was originally planning on walking to the cafe, so he had been waiting a while. When you walk into the restaurant you are hit with the warm air with the scent of meat. To your surprise it wasn’t as busy as you’d expect it to be considering it being lunch hour. Jungkook picks out a table in the middle of the restaurant. Taking a seat in front of him, he grabs a menu that had already been placed there and picks out his favorite dishes.

“Hello, what can I get started for you guys today?” The server walks up to the table with a notepad and pencil in his hand. His attention is drawn to you first. You look up at him and give him a sweet smile. His hair was wavy and dimples showed whenever he smiled. You look down to your hands resting on the table and you look at Jungkook. His stare already on you, clearing his throat he begins to order.

Once it is written down on the notepad the waiter grabs the menus from the table. “I’ll be out shortly with your food” You nod your head politely and bring your attention back to the man in front of you. “You still haven’t given me another hint” He brings up again. Sighing with a smile on your lips you slightly shake your head at him. “You are never going to give up, are you?”

“Nope, I’m determined”

“Why? Is my Instagram not enough?” You say with a shake of your shoulder.

“No, it’s not. Are you gonna give me another hint or what?" Sass can be heard in his tone. Instead of having the poor boy go on for ages figuring out your number you give him the first six digits. “Fine, I’m starting to feel bad for you now. I’ll give more than one number” At this his eyes light up like the galaxy. Excitement growing in his chest and a smile that brings out his dimples appear on his face.

Laughing at his excitement you write down on a piece of napkin you pull from the box next to you. ‘823257’ written in bold ink. You fold it up and slide it over to Jungkook’s side of the table. “There now you need to find the last four” Now feeling a bit more relieved he stuffs the napkin deep into the pockets of his sweats. The food is brought out and the same waiter places it on the table in front of you.

“Thank you,” you tell him with that same smile you gave him earlier. Blush begins to grow on his pale cheeks and he bows, walking away to serve other tables. Scoffing Jungkook looks away from the boy and takes the scissors from the tray, cutting up the meat. “What was that look for?” you say to him picking up a pair of utensils. “Nothing” you laugh lightly at his pouty lips.

The sizzling of the meat on the grill resounds and smoke lifts into the air from the hot pan. “Do you think it’s cheating if another man helps separate your perilla leaf for you with chopsticks if you’re already with someone?” The ridiculous question gets you to chuckle. “I don’t think so, why does it matter if you're just going to end up eating it anyway?” you say, taking a piece of meat he grilled and placed on your plate for you into your mouth.

His eyebrows furrowed as he chews on the pork belly and his legs jump a little under the table. “It does matter! I feel like it's cheating plain and simple. If I were dating someone it should only be me helping you. Not some other guy that you happen to be friends with”

“Whatever you wanna believe, Jeon. But personally, I really don’t care. As long as I have food in my mouth then I’m happy” you say as you stuff your mouth with rice.

The check comes around when you finish eating. You go to grab the piece of paper but, once again, Jungkook beats you to it. “Yah, I’m the one who brought you out to eat. I should be the one paying for it” he held the paper away from you. Slumping in your seat you cross your arms across your chest. “But it’s expensive, let me help pay half” With a proud smile Jungkook signs off on it and gives it to your waiter. “Too late, already paid for” he sends you a sly grin and you let out a puff of air.

The beeping sound of the door resounds in the quiet apartment. Jungkook walks to his shoe rack next to the front door and pulls off his big black shoes. Walking over to the couch he settles down on the couch and turns on the TV. Before he could pull his jacket off he remembers the small napkin you gave to him at the restaurant. Digging through his pocket he feels the soft paper and unravels it, revealing the numbers you had written down.

The front door beeps once again, the slightly shorter man walks through the door and places his bag on the dining table. “Hey,” Jimin says. “What do you wanna do tonight? We don’t have a schedule for tomorrow and we don’t need to be up early” he says, digging through the fridge for something to eat. Jungook’s focus is still analyzing the piece of paper. “Uh, do you think you could help me with something?” he turned his attention to the blonde standing behind the counter, a drink propped in his hand.

“Yeah, what is it?” taking a sip from his bottle. Jungkook stands to walk over to Jimin and places the napkin in front of him. He looks down at it and lifts his head back up to look at his friend. “A napkin with a bunch of numbers on it? Is it like a code or something?” he says with confusion laced in his voice. Jungkook shakes his head and he pulls up your Instagram account. “Do you remember her?” Jimin brings the phone closer to his face to properly see what he has displayed on his phone. It takes him a little while to remember your face. Then his face brows straighten out as he recalls that day he saw you. “Ah, the cafe worker” Jungkook shakes his head, “Yes, her”

“What about her?” Confusion written on his face again. “Well, I’ve been hanging out with her for a while now-” before he can continue his sentence Jimin cuts him off, “And you didn’t mind telling me this until now because?”

“I don’t know, I’ve just been so caught up with her and I didn’t even think about mentioning her. But now I’m in a situation” he starts off by telling him the day he walked into the cafe and waited for you to finish up so he could talk to you. And the rest of the story after that. “Why is she playing hard to get? It’s just a couple of numbers” Jimin says. Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, turning around back to the couch.

“She said it’s a personal thing, which is so stupid. We’ve been texting back n’ forth on Instagram. I was out with her today and she gave me those numbers” he sighs out of frustration. Jimin flows behind him and sits on the sofa next to him. He places the drink down and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. “You’re in luck, I have my mom to thank for this.” he pulls out a thick book filled with thousands of phone numbers from under the coffee table. Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as the book slams on the table in front of them.

“When did she give this to you?” he asks in shock. “She gave it to me before I left Busan, I forgot I had it with me. I never had a use for it so it was stored away in the closet at our old dorm” He opens the book and flips through the thin pages. He stops on a page and glides his finger down looking for those six numbers. “Here!” He looks back to the napkin next to the book and reads off the numbers. Jungkook watches in awe as he watches his friend work his ‘magic’. “Now all we need to do is look through,” he pauses for a second “one hundred seventeen phone numbers” A loud “What!” comes from the man beside him. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us Jungkookie”

The first number they dialed was an old lady. She was sweet about them calling the wrong number and they moved on to the next. The fifth number they dial was a fried chicken place, not being able to contain themselves they placed an order for delivery. The two of them spend the next hour and a half trying to search for your number. Jungkook is close to losing hope. He ended up stepping out to their balcony and took a cigar out from the box laying on top of the table next to the couch.

Inhaling a puff into the night’s air, he begins to feel a bit more relaxed. Jimin walks in behind him, standing next to him as they look out into the city. Lights, once again brightening up the city. The sounds of cars driving by and flocks of birds flying in the sky. Jimin takes in the fresh air, his arms leaning against the railing. “What if she gave you a fake number?” he says. Jungkook only sighs and takes another drag from his cigarette.

“I mean we’ve been at this for hours and all we’ve found is nothing” But Jungkook being the stubborn man he is he says “We have twenty more numbers to call. And if none of them is hers, then” he pauses. He looks up at the stars twinkling in the black sky. He closes his eyes and thinks. “Then I’ll just give up,” Jimin nods his head at his friend's decision, his head hanging low as he pats the taller one’s shoulder walking back into the room.

Jungkook places the end of the stick in a bowl lying on the edge of the thick railing and trails behind the elder. Plopping himself back down on the couch, he begins to prepare himself for maybe one of the longest hours of his life. He picks his phone up again and dials one of the remaining numbers. But to no avail, it’s not your voice he hears on the other end of the phone. Crossing it off in the book he dials the next one, and then the next, and then he’s on the sixth number.

The phone rings for a while, but on the fourth ring, someone picks up. “Hello?” you say. Jungkook is silent. Shocked that it’s actually you, he’s finally talking to. “Hello,” he says back. You bring your phone away from your ear and look at the number. “Jungkook? How did you manage to find the rest of my number so quickly?” He laughs at that. ‘Quickly’ is quite the opposite of tonight.

“Thank fucking God it’s you,” he says. Jimin perks up, turning around to face Jungkook.

Autumn

The sun rose over the horizon and spilt into the room, the blinds kept slightly ajar covering bits of the messy room, the light laying over his sleeping body. His eyes slow open as the sun peeks through them. He twists and turns in the comfort of his bed until he becomes restless, pulling the comforter away from his body. “Jungkook” a girl hovering over his tired body. She lays her own over his, cuddling into his neck as she wraps her arms around his neck, he buries himself in her scent dragging his hands to wrap around her waist.

The girl plants soft kisses along his soft skin whispering little nothings into his ear. Before he could pull away to find her beautiful face, his eyes opened.

“Get up!” Jimin tugs on his arm harder. Jungkook jerks up from his bed, wiping his eyes from sleep. “What time is it?” his deep voice still laced with his deep slumber, Jimin looks at the clock on the wall by his mirror and back at the sleepy boy.

"It’s ten thirty, we were supposed to meet Namjoon ten minutes ago” he yells. Jungkook groans standing up from the bed, without watching out for where he was going he stubs his toe on the corner of the bed, “Shit” he falls onto his bed again holding his foot. His phone buzzes with a notification. The name read ‘___ 🌺’, and a smile formed on his face as he read your name.

y/n🌺: Hey sleepy. I’ve been trying to reach you for like an hour but it seems like you’re too busy for me now 😞. I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out today? [10:35 am]

His smile grows even wider. He thought he’d never see the day that you would reach out and ask if he wanted to hang out. Unfortunately, he has plans out today. It’s been a long while since he and all of his friends planned to hang out together. With everyone being busy with school and work, they never found the time to plan a get together.

Me: Hey, sorry I didn’t get back. I woke up late. [10:37 am]

Me: Someone missing me already? 🫤 [10:37 am]

He stands up from his bed and walks through the bedroom door. Jimin walks past him, already dressed and ready for the day, “You’re not ready yet, we’re going to leave in like five minutes” he says. “Alright! I won’t take that long, relax” He walks into the bathroom and prepares himself for the day ahead of him. The sink buzzes from his phone. The screen lights up with another notification.

y/n 🌺: Calm down pretty boy, I was just asking because I’m off today and I don’t have any plans [10:45 am]

Me: So you think I’m pretty? lol, sorry angel i can’t today, what about tomorrow? [10:47 am]

While he waits for a response he walks out of the bathroom and walks over to his closet, looking through the many clothes he has. Finally, picking out something to wear he walks out to the living space where Jimin is sitting on the couch, looking at his phone waiting for him to finish. “Finally,” he breathes out in relief. “If only you set a damn alarm we wouldn’t be so late, Tae keeps texting me if we were there yet and yet we’re still standing here” he shakes his head.

“Can you calm down, I’m ready. Let’s go” Jungkook walks forward to the front door and his keys in his hand. He waits for Jimin to walk out before he locks the door. As they are walking down the hall to the parking garage, Jungkook checks his phone again to find your message.

y/n 🌺: Don’t get so cocky now Jeon. Yeah, that’s fine. I guess I’ll just spend my time alone today 😞 [10:48 am]

Me: Cheer up at least you get to spend the whole day with me tomorrow! 😊 [10:59 am]

y/n 🌺: Yeah yeah. Have fun with your boyfriends [11:00 am]

Cheesing at his phone he sends you a thumbs up and puts his phone away and takes his car keys out. “What are you smiling about?” Jimin looks over to his friend in the driver's seat. “Is it ___?” he guesses. Jungkook shrugs his shoulders as he places the key into the ignition.

As Jungkook pulls out of the parking garage, Jimin takes the aux cord and plugs it into his phone, ‘3:00 AM’ by Finding Hope plays softly in the background of the car. “So, what’s the deal with you and her?” He starts the conversation first. “What do you mean? We’re just friends,” Jimin looks at him with a look of suspicion written on his face. “Hmm, you’ve been spending almost all of your time with her, and I always catch you geeking whenever you’re texting her, doesn’t seem like ‘just friends’ to me” he lifts two fingers up in the air as quotations.

“You are so deluded. I can’t have girls that are friends anymore?”

“You’ve never had a girl-friend before. It’s either you sleep with them or you sleep with them. I have never seen you spend this much time with someone let alone a girl. Let’s be real now,” This leaves Jungkook silent. He is right, though. He just won’t admit that he is. “Whatever, man” The car ride is spent in silence for the rest of the time being.

It’s not until Jimin gets an incoming call from Taehyung. The phone is still connected to the car, his deep voice is loud throughout the vehicle. “Hello?” Jimin says, “Where are you guys?”

“We’re almost there, why?” Jungkook says. “Just asking, cus Namjoon-hyung is getting antsy, he just wants to make sure you guys are coming, it has been a while since we’ve all been together”

“Okay were pulling up in the parking lot now, see you soon”

“See you in a bit” the calls end and the music starts to play again. The car comes to a stop, and the two close the door shut. This place is different to the one he took you out to that night all those days ago. This one is more secluded, not many people know about, considering it’s Namjoon’s father’s place. The small building is next to a lake, only a few others in sight down the road. the quiet sounds of the water rippling in the air, and the leaves turning into red, orange, and brown colors with the changing season.

Leaves crunch under their feet as they walk up to the door, knocking to be let in. The eldest one in the group answers the door. “Yah, what took you guys so long.” Jin says, pushing their hands slightly in a playful manner. “This one woke up late” he points to Jungkook. He raises his hands up and apologizes, “Sorry, I forgot to set an alarm, but to be fair I went to sleep late last night working on a project”

“At least you're here” Jin throws his arm over his youngest’s shoulder. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages,”

“Yeah, me too” Yoongi, another one of their friends, comes from the bathroom. Jungkook throws him a smile and pulls him into a hug. “It’s nice to see you guys again” Namjoon comes from what seemed like a gaming room “Look at us, one whole again” he opens his arms and brings Jungkook into a hug as well. Jimin and Taehyung are sitting at one of the couches catching up on what they’ve been doing since they last saw each other.

They all gather around and begin chit chatting. “So, Jungkookie, Jimin here tells us you’re seeing someone” Jin raises his eyebrows, curious about his friend's love life. Jungkook shakes his head as he takes a sip of whiskey. “I’m not seeing anyone, she’s just a friend” at this Namjoon perks up and joins in on the conversation. “Oh is it __? I thought you guys were together, I mean you guys should’ve been there. They he looked at her was so sweet”

“I did not look at her in any way” he objects.

“Wait, you've met her already?!” Jin says with a look of hurt on his face. “That’s not fair! I basically raised you and this is how you repay me!” he yells.

“Can we please calm down, she’s nothing but a friend to me, why is that so hard to believe” They all become silent now. Giving each other knowing looks, he lets out a sigh and pulls a cigar out from his pocket. Taking a lighter that was lying on the table in front of him he lights it up, taking a drag.

“Oh c’mon, when will you introduce us? It’d be good to see a new face around here” Jungkook looks up at Yoongi and back down to his cigar. “I don’t know, it’ll happen when it happens” It is silent for a minute before Jungkook changes the subject. “How’s Aria and the baby? I miss that little dumpling” Jin’s baby, Minchae, is

Jungkook's goddaughter, it’s been a long time since he’s seen her. Jin and his wife, Aria, are high school sweethearts, she’s seen him through his growth spurt, he hasn’t spent a day looking bad. He doesn’t blame her for staying with him for all these years.

“They’re doing good, we wanted to host a barbeque sometime in two weeks, I forgot to bring this up the last time we were together”

Everyone perks up at the mention of food, all agreeing, they begin to talk about life, what they’ve all been caught up doing since their last get together.

“Are you guys dating?” Your best friend asks over the phone. After Jungkook told you he was busy, you brought yourself out of your tiny apartment and did a little bit of exploring yourself.

“No, we’re not. We are just friends” you deny your relationship with Jungkook. He is one of the first friends (?) that you have made so far since you moved here. Yes, his personality is a bit condescending but you still manage to find a way to tolerate it.

“Well, from the way you described him, it sounds like more than friends to me” You shake your head as if he could see you. “Fine believe what you wanna believe, but I assure you we are just friends-” Mid sentence you don’t pay attention to where your feet are leading you. You bump into a tall figure, when you turn around to apologize, you get a closer glimpse of the man. “Hey, you were our waiter the other day at that restaurant near the campus” you say pointing at him. He smiles and gives you a nod of his head.

“Yeah, that was me” An awkward silence fills between you two until you speak again. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he lifts his hands in the air in a forgiving manner.

“No, no it’s okay” smiling again at him you slowly begin to turn around to go on your way. Not until he stops you in your tracks, “Wait! Uhm” You turn your head back around to face him and raise your eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I was too scared to ask you this back at the restaurant, but can I have your number?” How cute, you think. A smile breaks out on your lips and you walk closer to him. “I don’t even know your name,” you say to him. Immediately he says “It’s Jiung”. You pause for a minute looking up at the sky as if you were thinking. “Okay, Jiung. Give me your phone” That same sweet smile you gave to him gets him to blush. He pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket and places it in my hand.

You put in your number and hand it back to him, you turn away but not before you say “Have a good day” in a sweet voice. His heart starts to race as you turn your back to him and continue your adventure. “What was that?” Hoseok says through the phone. “This guy that I saw at this restaurant Jungkook took me to. He asked for my number.

“Wow, you are a guy magnet over there, what happened here?” he says teasingly

“Shut up”

Loud knocks are heard from your front door as you get ready in your room. Your hair is still up in curlers, your baggy t-shirt is on, and your biker shorts are still on, you walk over to the door and look through the peephole. The beeping of the door is heard next to you and Jungkook steps into the room. “Look at you in your pajamas. Didn’t I say I was gonna be here at one?”

he says in a teasing manner behind you. Walking back to your room you hear his heavy steps follow behind you. “Uh, I don’t remember letting you into my room” You turn to face him. “And I don’t remember caring enough to ask,” The beefy man says plopping down on your bed. Rolling your eyes you walk back to your bathroom, his hands lay behind his head as he relaxes into your bed. You walk out with a robe on now, and Jungkook eyes you up and down.

“Do you mind?” you say looking back at him.

“I won’t look I swear” You give him a look that says ‘I don’t trust you’. Turning around you go through your closet, pick a casual outfit, and bring it back to the bathroom.

Jungkook rolls his eyes as you walk away. Your bathroom and bedroom connect, and the big mirror above your sink shows almost everything in it. His eyes wander around your room, thinking about it now he’s never stepped foot in your apartment before, and his gaze stops at the mirror in the bathroom. You have taken your robe off and your bare back is on display.

He holds his breath as he takes in your figure, You grab the clip that was holding your hair and he watches as your hair cascades down your shoulder. Your head turns to look at how your hair had turned out from the rollers, but instead, you're met with Jungkook’s gaze. He’s sat up in your bed now, lips parted slightly. You hold his stare before looking away and bending down to grab your clothes.

Snapping out of his trance, you can hear shuffling coming from your room. You look back to your bed and find it empty, Jungkook is in the other room, trying to steady his breath. A few minutes later you walk out of your room, a big sweater covering your body and a small skirt adoring part of your legs.

“Are you ready?” You say tilting your head up to look at him.

He only nods his head in response and waits for you to collect your things. He stands by the door, watching you put your sneakers on. A small white bag is thrown over your shoulder.

When you are finally done you walk out the door and he closes it behind you. The walk to the parking garage was quiet for some odd reason. When you both get into his car you destroy the silence between you two. “How come you aren’t being annoying today? Usually, you’re talking my head off or asking me dumb questions” His mind is still stuck on what he saw back at your apartment.

Low music plays softly in his car as he responds, “It’s nothing, I’m just tired from yesterday.” Softly nodding your head away from him you look out the window and wait until you arrive at his place. It’s silent again for only a few minutes when you decide to speak up again, “You’re such a liar” he turns his gaze away from the road for a second to look at you. “What did I lie about?”

“You said that your place is just a walk away from mine” he chuckles at your complaining. Secretly you had hoped that you would walk with him to his complex, your neighbors usually take their dog out for a walk at this time and you’d always play with her. “Sorry you should’ve moved closer to me then” he says it as if you had any control over it. You roll your eyes and begin to sink into the comfortable silence.

He parks the car on the side of the road near his apartment and you both step out of the car. It’s slightly bigger than where you're living and it’s much louder in this part of town.

He takes the lead and walks in front of you to the front of the building. The layout is much different than what you’re used to. Instead of an elevator, everyone has to climb up a set of stairs, thankfully for you, he lives on one of the lower levels. When you reach his home he punches in the numbers into the pad of his door lock.

Just like yours, beeping comes from inside of his house. To your surprise the place is neat and clean, a few pieces of trash here and there but surprisingly tidy for an apartment with two grown men living in it. “How do you like it?” He asks, throwing his keys into the bowl on the table next to the door. “It’s nice, it’s cleaner than I thought it would be” your eyes glide around the room. He scoffs and says “What? Just because we’re a couple of guys means we can’t be clean?”

“Uhm yes, actually I do think that”

“Well, then change your mindset” he says walking over to his sofa. “What do you wanna do? I don’t have much here but you decided you wanted to hangout here so…” you walk over to his kitchen and look through his fridge. “Let’s cook something,” Digging through the drawers, you try to find something you think you’d both like to eat.

After searching for a few minutes you end up with pork belly, kimchi, and instant noodles you found in the cabinet. You call him over and he groans as he stands from the comfort of his sofa. He finds a spot next to you and looks at the items you have displayed on the counter. “We’re cooking tonight?” You look up at him with a bright smile “Mmmhm!” He laughs at your response. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, tattoos out on display and rubs his hands together.

“Let’s get started, then shall we?” Of course, he grabs the package of pork and cuts the plastic open with a knife while you look for a pot to cook the ramen in. You bring it to the sink and fill it half way to boil the noodles. It makes a small ‘clink’ sound when it hits the metal of the stove. Jungkook walks over next to you while you sit watching at the pot, waiting for the water to boil. He pulls a pan out from the same cabinet you got the pot from and places it next to you on the stove.

Once the pan is hot enough he scrapes the cut-up meat into the pan, sizzling as it touches the heat. Smoke fills the air and the apartment starts to smell like pork.

The water starts to boil and you open the package and dump what’s in it into the water. Jungkok grabs a pair of chopsticks from a drawer and picks a piece of cooked meat from the pan. He blows on it and touches it to his lips making sure it’s not too hot to eat. “Here, try it” You open your mouth and taste the flavorful meat. Your eyes close as you satisfy your tastebuds with the cooking.

“Is it good?” Telling by your expression he doesn’t need a verbal answer from you.

Once everything is cooked you plate it and serve it on the island in the kitchen. You sit on one of the stools and Jungkook stands on the other side of you. “I didn’t know you could cook like this, it’s so good” Slurping sounds reverberate from his bowl as he brings it closer to his mouth. “Who’s feeding my ego now?” he says with a cocky tone.

“Can you ever go a day without being annoying”

“Not when it comes to you”

After you both finish up eating you make your way over to the living room and make yourselves comfortable on the sofa. The TV played whatever they showed during this hour.

Suddenly you start to speak. “You know what happened yesterday?” he hums in response, too immersed in what was playing on the big screen. “Do you remember our waiter from a few days ago?” At the mention of him, he sits up and looks at you. “Yeah, what about him”

“After you blew me off-”

“I did not blow you off, I was just busy with my friends”

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes at his interruption

“I went into the city and ran some errands. But when I was on the phone with my friend I happened to bump into him” he listens to your story intently, not wanting to miss a detail. “I apologized but before I could leave he asked me for my number”

“And did you give it to him?” he asks curiously.

“Yeah, I did” he scoffs at your response, a little bit of anger beginning to build up. “Are you serious? Why did he get your number so easily but I had to work my ass off to get it” You can read the anger on his face. You begin to laugh, you laugh so hard that you're clutching your stomach. “Yah! What’s so funny! I didn’t even say anything for you to laugh” This only gets you to laugh even more.

Not taking any more of this his fingers find your waist, and he tickles you. “Jungkook!” you yell at him. He pushes you onto your back and attacks you. Your legs between his and your arms trying to shove his shoulders away. The biggest smile forms on his lips as he watches your face turn red from how hard you're laughing. “Jungkook, stop!” you say in between laughs.

He takes hold of your wrist and pins it above your head. Your laughter dies down, and the room becomes silent. His face hovering over yours, your faces inches apart. He doesn’t realize he’s leaning down, lips close to touching. The beeping of the door is heard near the door and Jimin walks through. You both quickly pull away from each other and straighten out your clothes.

“Jimin!” Jungkook says standing to greet his friend. “This is ___” Jimin walks over to you and stretches his hand out for you to shake. “Ah, the one and only. It’s nice to finally meet you” he says slightly bowing out of courtesy. “It’s nice to meet you too, Jimin” you give one of your sweet smiles. Jungkook looks down at his watch and walks up between you two.

“It’s getting late, I’ll take you home __” you nod your head and give Jimin one last smile. “But we just met, let me get to know her,” Jimin complains. “You’ll get to know her another time, we have classes tomorrow and she has work”

“It was nice to meet you, Jimin. I hope we get to talk to each other properly in the future” you tell him. He smiles at you and lets you go.

~ The car ride to your home was filled with comfortable silence and the radio playing lowly. You are stopped at a red light and you look out the window. A dog sticking its head out the window gets a small smile to grow on your lips. “I had a great time tonight” you turn your attention back to Jungkook. His face was illuminated with red from the traffic light. You take in his strong features. His sharp jawline and round nose, a faint scar is indented on his cheek, and his lip piercing shining in the light.

“I had a great time too” He looks over at you and sees you already looking at him. “Sucks I didn’t get to talk to your friend though. He seems like a nice person.”

“Yeah he is, I’ve known him since I was in middle school. We went to highschool together and now we're sharing rent with each other. Sometimes it amazes me how fast times fly” he says.

Small talk is exchanged until you reach your apartment. This time you and Jungkook stay in the car for a bit longer. “Thank you, for today. I had a lot of fun”

“So did I,” he says. It’s not long before he says something else. “My friends are holding a barbeque at their place in a few days. Do you want to come with me?” This was out of nowhere. You debate whether you should go, you don’t even know them besides Jungkook and Jimin, now.

“C’mon, you always talk about how you don’t have any friends here. I’m giving you the opportunity to make some.” After this you finally oblige.

“Okay, okay I’ll go. But only if you make me some more pork belly” he smiles and shakes your head.

“Deal” he pulls his hand out to seal the deal. You give it a small squeeze and shake your hands. As you look at him you hold onto your hand for more than he should be. Shying away, you let go of his hand and begin to pick up your stuff. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” you say leaning in to plant a small kiss on his cheek. You pull away but your faces stay close together. He looks down at your lips, and he slowly brings his hand to your cheek.

He’s having an internal battle, thinking if kissing you is a good idea. Fuck it, he pulls you in and your lips mold with his. The cold of his piercing against your lips makes a shiver go up your spine. A small smack of your lips resounds as you pull away slowly, “Goodnight, angel”

The crisp air of the late afternoon hits you, you are standing outside waiting for Jungkook to come pick you up for today’s events. The thoughts of meeting his friends made you nervous for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Maybe you are just scared of what they might think, you need to show off a good impression. His black Mercedes rolls in around the corner and stops in front of you.

Pulling the handle to the passenger’s side you reveal Jungkook, leaning against the armrest waiting for you to hop in. “Don’t you look cute today,” he says, watching you buckle your seat belt. “Thank you,” you say in a small voice. “You’re so nervous around me all of a sudden,” he says leaning in to look at your face. You look at his eyes, then down to his lips. “I’m not nervous,” you say with confidence in your voice.

“Mmm, then why are you so quiet? I’m used to hearing your loud and obnoxious voice” he teases. A smile creeps onto your lips and you turn away from to face forward. “Just drive, Jeon.” Chuckling, you step on the gas pedal and start to drive away from your complex. “What are your friends like?” you ask. You watch as Jungkook leans his elbow against the door and places his hand under his chin. “Hmm, they are very loud” a small laugh comes from your mouth. “They’re also very warm, I’ve known most of them for a big majority of my life now”

You admire the way he talks about them as if they were family to him. The bond he describes he has with them seems unbreakable and full of love, you feel warmth spread across your chest at the thought of his friendship with all of them. You begin to realize that you don’t live far from them, only about a thirty-minute drive from yours. Suddenly, those nerves you were feeling before begin to creep up on you again. He notices how silent you’ve become as you get closer to the house.

“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?” he says, looking at you. You return his gaze and shake off your nervous feeling. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just feel a bit nervous about meeting them,” you look for the right word to say. You shouldn’t be feeling this nervous, Jungkook described them as great people. “Angel, you don’t need to be nervous. They will welcome you with open arms, trust me” The nickname always brings small butterflies soaring in your stomach, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.

The car pulls into the driveway you look up and gape at the size of the house. It’s not too big, but big enough to hold at least seven people. You and Jungkook both walk up to the front door, once again you feel anxious, “Relax, it’s gonna be okay” his fingers brush softly against yours, his pinky wrapping around yours. He rings the doorbell, and everyone on the other side of the door goes quiet.

Low chattering is heard and the handle to the door twists and swings open. “JayKayy” Jin says in a brotherly tone. But Jungkook’s attention focuses on his baby niece. “Awhh Minchae, Uncle missed you '' he takes the little girl from her father's arms, squeezing her against him. Her little giggles escape as he places little kisses against her tiny puffy cheek. You watch with a fond smile on your face, how adorable. You’ve never seen this side of Jungkook before, it feels refreshing.

You follow behind him as he enters the house. The loud chattering comes back to life when they see their youngest out of the bunch. “Hey, guys” Minchae’s arms wrapped around his neck. Standing quietly behind Jungkook’s tall frame you gently tug on his jacket and he turns around to you.

“Oh uh, guys” he places a hand on the small of your back, gesturing for you to walk forward. “This is ___” You bow your head and greet them. “Hello” comes from your mouth softly. Jin’s wife Aria stands up and places a hand over her heart. “You are so cute! It’s nice to finally meet you! Jungkook has not stopped talking about you since-”

“Aria” Jungkook deadpans. She places a hand over her mouth to contain her laugh. “Sorry, sorry.”

Jungkook holds a hand out gesturing to the woman next to you. “This is Aria, Jin’s wife” you smile at her and nod your head, a fond smile growing on her face. “This is Taehyung, and you know Namjoon and Jimin” You walk over to where they were sitting and hold your hand out for them to shake. “Oh yeah, we met that one time we went into the city, I remember,” you say to Namjoon. “Yes, it’s nice to see you again ___” He gives you that boyish smile you saw all those nights ago.

“And this is Yoongi” the quiet man waves his hand in the air and a little smile forms on his lips. Jin comes out from the backyard, clad in an apron and tongs in his hands.

“Food’s ready” Everyone stands up from their seats. A table is set up outside and the big backyard is lit up with fairy lights, setting the mood for everyone. When everyone is content with their plates they all sit around the table and converse with one another. Minchae sat on Jungkook’s lap, slapping her tiny hands against the table. She hasn’t left Jungkook since you both arrived, you find it endearing, the relationship between the two.

He has a separate plate for her feeding her small spoons at a time when she asks for it. “So, ___. When did you move to the city, is there any reason why you chose Incheon?” Jin asks.

“Well, I moved here this past summer from Gwangjang. I was offered better things here at the college than what they had back there. It sucks though because I had to leave all my friends. But it doesn’t hurt getting a clean slate” you say.

“That is right, but I bet you miss your friends too” You nod your head as you think about your life back in your hometown. “Yes, I do miss it over there. But I’ve been enjoying my time over here as well” you say with joy. Everyone begins to talk with you as if they’ve known you for years. It is not as bad as you thought it’d be, and you're grateful for that.

Everyone decided to head back inside and it grew colder, everyone spread out in different places. Minchae sat on Jungkook’s lap again, playing with his big hands. Her attention falls on you though, you look down to meet her gaze and you give her a small smile. She crawls from Junkook onto your lap and she stares at you looking at your features. He watches his niece make herself comfortable on your lap and looks at her antics. Her tiny hands come up to your cheek. A bright smile forms on your lips as you watch her.

“Hi, Minchae” softly comes from your lips.

“Pwetty, Auntie” your heart melts at her small voice, and so does Jungkook's. He watches the interaction with a smile on his face, warmth igniting within his chest. “You’re so pretty,” you say, giving a gentle poke to her round tummy. She lets out a laugh as he wraps her hands around your finger pushing it away. Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s going to explode, watching with fond eyes as you play with his niece. You look over at him and catch him staring, his hand coming up to nudge your chin playfully.

The night is coming to the end and Minchae has peacefully fallen asleep on your shoulder as you hold her back in support. Everyone has settled down, quiet music playing in the room as they all focus on their own thing. Jungkook looks down at his watch and notices how late it has gotten. “I think we should start heading out,” he whispers into your ear. You nod your head and begin to slowly get up, careful not to wake the little one in your arms.

“Here I’ll take her” Jungkook brings his hand under her arms to pick her up. She moves a bit but falls back to sleep in the man’s arms. “Are you guys heading out already?” Jin says from the couch.

“Yeah, is it alright if I put her to bed?” Jin nods his head and Jungkook separates from you for the first time tonight and walks up the stairs.

“Where have you been all his life?” Jin says out of the blue. You turn around to face him and give him a look of confusion. “What?” a small chuckle escapes your mouth. “I have not seen him act the way he does since you’ve met him” A smile appears on your lips and before you can respond Jungkook comes back into the room. “You ready?” he says quietly from behind you, a hand resting on your waist. You look up at him and nod your head, you bend to grab your purse from the couch.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he says with a wave of his hand. They all say their goodbyes and then, you are both heading back to the car.

You walk up to your door and unlock it, Jungkook stands behind you and waits for you to get in. He expected you to wave him goodnight and disappear behind your door, leaving him to walk into the night. But instead, you turn around and say “You wanna come in?” Shocked, Jungkook freezes in his spot, caught by surprise. He nods his head and walks in behind you. You place your bag down on the small table and plop down on your sofa, Jungkook following, he sits down next to you.

“Tonight was fun, I didn’t expect us to get along so well. It felt like I’ve known them for years,” you say facing him. Your arms are in your lap, your fingers playing with your ring. “Yeah, that’s what they do to you” he chuckles. “They are all too kind for their own good, that’s what I love about them”

“I can see why you talked so fondly about them, thinking about the bond you share with them makes me miss my friends back home. We’d hang out almost every night and stay out late going to parties” You reminisce on the old times you and your friends’ wild nights.

“You have me now, and everyone else,” he says in a low tone. You look up from your lap and smile at him. It is silent between you now, Jungkook can’t help but stare at you in the low light, how beautiful you look. Slowly his hand comes up to the side of your neck, just below your ear. You lean into his touch and your lips part slightly, your gaze falling to his lips and so does his. Lips colliding, your hands find his wrist holding on tightly.

Your body moves forward, straddling his lap, and his tongue glides over your pillowy lips, seeking entrance. Your lips part allows him access and his hands find your waist, squeezing gently. A small whimper escapes your mouth at the touch; the room filled with the sound of lips smacking. His hands begin to dip lower, till they are right above your ass. Your arms wrap around his neck softly and the kiss gets heated and needy. Teeth clashing against each other and small noises come from your lips.

With his hands under your ass, he stands up and lifts you up with him. Legs wrapping around his middle, without breaking the kiss Jungkook finds his way to your bedroom. He throws you onto the bed as if you were a ragdoll, hands finding the hem of his shirt he pulls it over his head, abs out on display; you can feel yourself become wetter.

Your hands glide up his stomach, muscles rubbing against your fingers. Jungkook holds onto your hands and brings them up to his neck as you’re kneeling on the edge of your bed. His lips connected with yours once again, but much harsher. His tongue playing with yours, the sloppy sounds of your lips are the only thing heard in the room. Jungkook’s rough hands pull your thin tank top over your head, revealing your perked nipples. You gasp as your body is hit with the cold air in the room.

Placing wet kisses down your neck, his lips find your chest. He breathes over your nipple and you whimper at the warmth it brings. His lips wrapped around your erect nipple, and you threw your head back in pleasure, hands wrapping around the short hair on the back of his head. “Jungkook” you whimper. His hands wrap around your back bringing it closer to him. He moves on to the other one, giving it the same treatment. Suddenly, he throws you back down on the soft mattress.

Watching how your tits move with the impact. He hovers over you kissing you with need. Jungkook’s hands find the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down and throwing it onto the floor behind him. Now you’re only left in your panties, barely covering your pussy. He can feel himself grow harder in his underwear, looking down at the goddess that you are. Pushing you up so you’re fully on the bed now he dips down and places soft kisses on your inner thigh. You shiver at the touch and whine his name out again. “Jungkook”

“What, baby? Use your words”

“I need you” you moan, your eyes fall to look at him. But they’ve already fallen on you, giving you a sultry look.

“You’re already so soaked for me,” he says, hooking his fingers on your panties. It’s barely doing its job anyway, he yanks them from your body. Your cunt out, ready for him to devour. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” you nod your head.

“Uh uh, what did I say baby?”

“Ugh, yes” you say in a needy tone. “I need to feel you Jungkook, please” Finally getting what he wanted he obliges to your request.

“Just because you said so kindly” his head dips down, placing kitten licks along your clit, you let out a breathy moan at the first contact of his tongue. Then, he’s diving in. Wrapping his arms around your legs pulling himself deeper into your sopping pussy. You try to move around but Jungkook isn’t having it, his grip on you tightens and his pace picks up. Two fingers find your entrance, pushing in slowly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his thick fingers push up into you.

“Fuck, Jungkook” You bring your hands to prop yourself up, and you watch as Jungkook flicks his tongue up and down between your folds. His fingers start to pick up in pace, and he can feel you squeeze him, he knows you’re close to an orgasm. The burn in your lower stomach begins to build. Moaning, loudly you reach your climax, a hand finding his hair, you tug slightly to get him off of you. Your thighs begin to shake beside you he finally pulls away and brings himself back up to you. You stare into his eyes, big black boba eyes staring back at you.

You can’t believe that’s the man that brought you to your orgasm. His head dips down to connect your lips once again, you can taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his mouth. “Good job, baby,” he says lowly. Your hand slowly reaches down to his aching cock, and you reach into his pants. The contact you make with his cock gets him to moan into your hair. He stands to remove the fabric from his waist. His hard dick comes face to face with you and you can feel yourself start to drool.

You bring your hand to wrap around it, giving it a few strokes. His head tilts back in pleasure this time, “Ah fuck yeah, baby” Your thumb rubs over the red tip, and then you bring your lips to plant soft kisses over it. “Don’t fucking tease me” his hand brushes through your soft hair. “C’mon don’t be such a pussy, let me have my fun,” you say.

“I just ate the fuck outta yours, I really fucking need you” he whines.

You laugh at his whiny state “Who’s the needy one now?” Finally, your lips around his thick cock, the veins feel up against your mouth. You take him in slowly and his hand guides you as you only take half of it. “C’mon baby, I know you can do better than that” You pull back and take him in a deeper, until the tip hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly but take deep breaths in to calm yourself. “There you go” he praises. Your speed picks up as he pushes you on his cock. Your small hand finds the bottom of his cock where his balls lay. Squeezing them in the palm of your hand he doubles over at the extra pleasure. “Fuck, you’re such a cockslut for me, huh? God,” he says pulling you off of him.

“Turn around, ass up face down” he demands. You turn around and do what he asks. Your face buries into your pull and you get slightly pushed up as he grabs your ass cheeks. “You’re so fucking beautiful” A smack resounds in the room and you let out a gasp. He rubs over the red mark and plants a kiss over it. He moves his hands down to the dip of your waist and holds you down.

Giving his cocks a few strokes, he teases it up and down your slit. “Look at you, all dripping n’ shit” you moan at his tone. He pushes in slowly, feeling his veins around your walls. The stretch gives you the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; he stays there for a little to let you get used to his size. He pulls back until just the tip, and then he pushes in all the way, bottoming out. He moves your hair to the side to watch your ass bounce on him. His pace is quick, and his hands find the front of your chest squeezing your soft tits in his hand.

“Fuck, harder” you moan.

Your head is lying on the side of your pillow, gripping the soft material from the pleasure. His animalistic speed gets you to moan even louder. The sound of his hips hitting against your ass and the flapping sounds are loud in the quiet room. He looks down to where you connect and watches the ring of your cream disappear inside you.

“Can I record you baby?”

Too lost in pleasure you push yourself up and grab his phone from the side of you after it fell from his pocket earlier. The flash of the camera lights up the room and he watches himself disappear inside you. “Yeah, you like that baby?”

Pornographic moans escape your lips as you relish the pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes!” you repeat over and over again.

His tattooed hand comes into the frame and rubs over your ass. Your cheeks have become red because of how hard he’s pounding into you. The flash turns off and he throws his phone to the side, his hand cups your pussy, rubbing against your clit. “Cum with me, angel”

This tips you over, spurts of come covering both your and his legs, dripping onto the mattress. Ropes of white cover your walls as he comes inside of you. You stay like that for a while, not ready for his cock to leave you. When he pulls away, the loss of being filled makes you whine. He walks away from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You turn over to lay on your back and your arm comes up to cover your eyes, you don’t hear Jungkook come back from the bathroom and you feel the bed deep.

“Open your legs, baby, I need to clean you” slowly spreading your legs the cool rag drags through your swollen folds. He throws the small towel into a basket in your room and plops himself on top of you. “I gotta pee, move” you slightly shove his shoulder. “Hold on, let’s just stay here for a little bit I’m tired” His hands wrap around your waist and he lays on your chest like it’s a pillow. You both end up falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The light shining through your blinds suddenly awakens you from your sleep. You look next to you and you admire the way Jungkook looks in the morning. Soft snores came from his pink lips, peacefully snoozing away. Slowly his eyes begin to open, and a small smile begins to form on his lips as he takes in your beauty. “Good morning,” he says as he stretches his limbs. Tattoos out on display as he stretches his arms out in relief. He plops them over your slightly covered body and pulls you closer to him. “Morning,” you say softly to him. His doll-like eyes stare into yours then down to your lips. Moving closer, your eyes shut softly as you can feel his soft lips glide against yours. There’s a spark between you. Like fireworks exploding around you and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Something you’ve never felt before. Loud knocking is heard from your door, causing you both to pull away.

“Give me a second,” you say under your breath. Nodding his head, he lets you go from his soft grip and watches as you pull a robe over your shoulders, tying it at your waist. When you pull the handle to your front door you don’t expect your mother and your best friend on the other side.

“Hi sweetie!” your mom pulls in for a tight hug, Hoseok next.

“Hi, guys, what are you doing here?” you say with a look of confusion on your face. “Sorry, we didn’t call. We just wanted to surprise you!” Hoseok says with a beaming smile on his face. “We missed you and wanted to see you. I hope this isn’t a bad time” he continues.

You look back to your bedroom door as they set their stuff down in the small living room. “Actually-” before you can continue, Jungkook emerges from your room dressed in the clothes from the night before. Both your mother and Hoseok pause. They look at you, then to Jungkook, and then back to you. “Maybe it is a bad time. You know, mom” Hoseok looks at your mother. You two were so close you were practically family. “I saw this cute little cafe down the street, why don’t we go get some breakfast?” he looks back at you and sends you a little wink.

“Actually I should start heading out, I need to catch up on some of my school work” Jungkook interrupts.

“It was nice to meet you guys” he bows politely. He walks over to the door with you following behind him. Once you're at the door he turns around to face you. “I’ll see you later?” he says closely. You nod your head and he leans in to place a small peck against your lips.

Closing the door behind you Hoseok and your mother are left shocked. “You better start explaining yourself young lady” he points a stern finger at you as if you were in trouble. “Yeah, honey. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Otherwise, we would’ve come over at another time” your mom says to you sweetly

“No, ma it’s okay,” you say, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “He’s no one really, he’s just a friend” This gets you thinking. What are you and Jungkook? You have so many unanswered questions that you want to ask. But these are the least of your worries. “So, how long are you guys gonna be in town for?” quickly changing the subject. “A few days. School starts again soon and I wanted to see you before I went back” Hobi says, bringing you into a hug. “Plus we haven’t seen or heard from you in a while. Now I can see why” he raises his eyebrows at you in a teasing manner. You roll your eyes at him as you begin to tell him what has happened to you recently.

Back at Jungkook’s apartment, he can’t stop thinking about the previous night he had spent with you. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way you made him feel. This feeling was strange to him, something he had never felt before. Even with his previous partners. He can’t help but replay everything over again. He wonders how you feel right now. Maybe nothing because you’re with your family.

He gets a notification from his phone. A party invitation to celebrate the end of the semester. He can’t think of partying right now. All he can think about is you. Thinking about how you feel about him, about how he feels. Everything is so complicated. Now he remembers why he doesn’t catch feelings anymore.

Does he have feelings?

Jungkook is pulled out of his trance when he hears the front door open. “Hey, where were you last night? I didn’t see you in your bed” Jimin says, his arms full of bags of groceries. “___’s” he stops in his tracks as he hears your name fall from his best friend’s lips. He quickly makes his way to where Jungkook is. Like a teenage girl waiting to hear about her friend’s first kiss he sits next to him “Did you guys do it? What happened? Are you guys dating now?” Jimin bombards him with endless questions that he doesn’t have the answers to.

“Yes we did and no we’re not dating,” he says with a sigh. “So what are you?” Jungkook pauses to think of an answer to that question. But truthfully, he doesn’t know himself. “I don’t know, man. It happened so suddenly. She makes me feel something that I’ve never felt before. I don’t know how to explain it” he looks at his best friend. “It sounds like you like her, dude. I’ve never seen you so confused about a girl before. Usually, it’s just fuck and go”

Jungkook stares at the floor thinking too much on the topic. He hasn’t heard from you since he left your apartment. And it’s driving him crazy. He dismisses it by changing the subject. “So, did you hear about the party that Seonghwa’s throwing?” “Yeah, you gonna go?” Jimin asks. Jungkook only shrugs his shoulders, maybe going will take him away from his worries. After all, it is the end of the semester. He deserves to let loose a bit.

“Hey, sorry I’m late” you look back at the voice. Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay, I was just finishing up this last assignment. I was late on the deadline” you say typing on your computer He hums in response. “So are you going to Seonghwa’s party? I guess he’s throwing it as a celebration for the end of the semester” He says leaning in making sure you are looking at him. You laugh at him for his silly antics and think for a moment.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t have anything else to do so why not?” you shake your head. Finishing up your last assignment you turn it in and finally close your laptop screen. You had been at it for at least two hours with a raging headache. All you wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Jungkook could see it on your face how tired you were.

“You look tired,” he points out. You only smile at him and lean your forehead on his shoulder. He places gentle kisses on your head and rubs small circles on your hand. “You wanna go back to my place?” He can feel you shake your head and he smiles at your actions.

It’s only later when you bring Jungkook along with you back to your apartment. He lies there on your bed as you finish getting ready for tonight. You both still haven’t talked about that night you spent together and it’s driving you crazy. Jungkook is propped up against the backboard of your bed watching as you get ready. You look back at him in the mirror and you make eye contact.m That same feeling you felt ignites in your chest.

“Can you help me?” you say lifting your hair out of the way. He stands up from your bed and walks over to you.

He places his hand on your waist, the other on the zipper slowly zipping it up. He places a kiss on your bare shoulder and you turn your head to face him. He looks down at you with that same look again, the look that always had your heart racing. He leans down and connects your lips. Using his tongue to separate them, into something more heated. You moan into his mouth, softly pulling at his hair making his head tilt back. Breaking the kiss he smiles down at you and squeezes your waist.

“Let’s go, Jimin said they started” you nod your head at him. Grabbing your purse and spraying a small amount of perfume around your neck you let him pull you out the door.

Once you make it to the party, you’re met with the loud noise of people talking and the heavy-based music. You’re hand in hand with Jungkook. He looks around to see if he can find any of his friends. You spot Taehyung at a table full of alcohol talking to a girl you’ve never seen before. He waves over to you and Jungkook. “Hey, guys! Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” he pulls you in for a friendly hug, but over his shoulder you can see the girl he was talking with eyeing Jungkook. A familiar feeling of jealousy starts to brew within your chest.

You brush it off with a smile and nod your head “I’ve been good, How have you been?” you ask him

“You know, just been around doing whatever. I’m so glad the semester’s over. The past few months have been kicking my ass” he laughs. You were so immersed in your conversation with Taehyung that you didn't realize Jungkook was leaning down to you. “I’m gonna go find Jimin,” he says into your ear. You nod and send him a smile, he kisses the side of your head as he walks away to find his friends. As he’s walking away you catch the girl from earlier, her eyes trail along his well-built body. Once he disappears behind a door into another room she turns her head around back to you.

“Are you guys dating?” you honestly don’t know how to answer her question. Technically you’re not together, but you do things other people who say they are together do. This question stirs up a load of confusion in your brain. Taehyung, noticing the awkward silence on your end, butts in and says “He’s currently not looking for anything right now. You wanna dance?” He holds his hand out for the girl and she gladly takes it. Now that you’re left alone you realize that you don’t really know anyone there.

You leave your spot on the hunt to look for Jungkook. His back is turned to you. Jimin looks over his shoulder looking at you, his head turning to see who his friend’s eyes had found. Jungkook walks over to you and his free hand finds your waist. “Hi, baby. You having fun?” you nod your head at him. A small smile sprawled on your lips. He notices a look on your face, his eyebrows furrow in concern.

“What’s wrong?” he says, placing his cup on the counter next to him. You look up to him, his hand finding yours. You can see that look again. The one he gave you before the party, it makes your heart jump in your chest. You only shake your head in response, smiling at him. “Nothing, it’s just a little crowded in here,” you say into his ear.

“Let’s get out then. This party is kinda lame anyway” he says as he pulls you away. You slightly tug at him, “No, it’s okay. It looked like you were having fun. You stay I’ll just find an Uber” He shakes his head in disagreement, “Really, I don’t mind. I don’t want you out by yourself. Especially at this hour. C’mon” Sighing in defeat you follow behind him hand in hand to the front door. Jungkook had told himself that he’d go to this party to let off some steam.

But he can’t seem to escape you. He doesn’t want to, it’s like you both have an invisible string attached to each other by the waist. You’re all he thinks about now. Everything reminds him of you and it scares him how much he feels for you. How much he yearns for you, but he won’t allow his heart to go through what he endured in the past. When you make it back to his apartment you take off his jacket that he had offered you earlier and place it on the coat rack next to the door.

“Do you want something to drink?” he says. You look back at him from the living room shaking your head at him.

“No, I’m fine”

For some odd reason, the air between you two has shifted. It has been different since you spent the night together. None of you dared to bring it up, to discuss what was going on between the two of you. Pulling you out of your thoughts soft music plays through the apartment.

You look up at Jungkook to find him standing next to a stereo playing with the different discs in the tray next to it. He looks back at you and softly smiles. Making his way next to you on the couch he sits closely, to the point you can feel his warmth radiating from his built body.

Inside conjuring a warm heart, a person that doesn’t match his hard exterior. His bubbly eyes look down at you, with a look that makes your heart pound. He leans in closer, your noses touching, and your breathing pattern slows down to match his. As he gets closer the music starts to fade from your head. He gently places his lips on yours. This feeling is almost like intertwining two souls. Completely magical. This makes his heart rate pick up, the same feeling he had when he came back to his apartment all those nights ago.

He doesn’t want it to scare him, but it does.

Something inside tells him he should stop but he can’t.

His heart is telling him to keep going.

So, he does.

Your arms find their way around his neck, while his hands grip onto your waist. He pulls you up into his lap gliding his hands up to the zipper of your dress. Jungkook pulls the strap from your shoulder slowly, leaving your dress to pool at your waist, planting kisses on your shoulder. You look down at him with a look of something he can’t describe. It makes him feel warm, comfortable, and almost like he’s meant to be here with you.

Small moans escape your mouth as he places one of his hands on your cheek moving them up into your hair. The small snap of your bra fills the silence of the room. The touch of the cold air on your perked nipples sends a shiver down your spine. He places wet kisses down your neck, trailing down to your chest. Wrapping his pink lips around you, you gasp out in pleasure. Your hands find a place in his soft raven hair tugging slightly.

He draws small circles pulling you closer to him. He could never let you go. It’s like you’re a magnet pulling him closer with each breath you take. You’re like a never-ending labyrinth that he can’t escape.

When did you have such an effect on him?

The soft touch of your fingers on his abdomen sends chills through his entire body. Lifting his shirt over his head, his abs out on display. You lean down, placing kisses over his chest. Your hand finds its way over his beating heart. His fingers wrap around your wrist, rubbing small circles with his thumb. He watches you intently. Taking in all of your beauty, completely raw.

What are you doing to him?

You make his head spin endlessly. For a moment, you’re both still. Staring into each other’s eyes. There’s something different about your dynamic, something more warm, more comforting, maybe even like home. It really does frighten him deeply. But he doesn’t want this to end, ever. Slowly you lean in connecting your lips once again. He turns you over onto your back, his legs on either side of you. He pulls the dress down your legs and undoes his belt as he watches your chest move up and down as you try to catch your breath.

His big hand glides over your chest up to your throat, gently squeezing. He leans down, attaching himself to you. He parts your lips with his tongue. His free hand finds its way into your panties, exploring your folds. You moan out loud as you feel his digits enter. Covering your sound with his lips you moan into his mouth. Brows furrowing in absolute pleasure. He pulls away to watch your expressions. Pure ecstasy is drawn over your face as he adds another finger.

He can feel himself grow harder in his boxers, watching as you enjoy yourself.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” he says under his breath. You only reply with a soft moan against his lips. Your foreheads together as you have a hand playing with his hair and the other gripping the sofa. He draws circles around your clit, getting to reach your high. Moaning out his name, he crashes his lips against yours.

Pulling his hand away from your heat, he clutches his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down your legs. He stands to take his boxers off, throwing them to the side. “I wanna taste you,” you say. He looks at you with his doll-like eyes. And then he shakes his head, giving you permission.

“Why don’t we have some fun?”

He lays down on the couch while you move to get on top of him. You take his hard cock into your hand, gliding it up and down. He wraps his arms around your waist planting soft kisses on your thighs. Jungkook leans in and places soft lips against your wet folds pulling you into him. Your hot breath hits the tip of cock and the sounds of his moans send vibrations through your body. Planting soft kisses to his tip you run your tongue around until you take him in fully.

This only gets him to be rougher. He completely pulls you down onto your face, drowning himself in your taste. You moan around his dick sucking harder. The fast motions of his tongue get you to pull off moaning out loud. “C’mon, baby. You said you wanted a taste” he teases.

Your thighs begin to shake as he tongue finds your clit, running figure 8’s harsh. You wrap your lips around him once again and begin sucking. The sound of your wet pussy resounds in the almost quiet room, along with your moans. Your hand starts to stroke him at a fast pace. He moans into you, this gets you to lift yourself off of him. He only pulls you back strongly and quickens his pace. Not being able to take it anymore, you reach your high. You moan around him pulling off of him again. He gives you time to catch up to your normal breathing pattern.

Once you’ve calmed down he lifts you up so you’re facing him. His hands run up into your hair as he admires the way you look right now, sweat glistening across your forehead, your eyes slightly droopy. You’re like a goddess in his eyes. The most ethereal being he’s ever set his eyes on, he can’t look away.

He runs his nose across your cheek, leaving small kisses on the corner of your cheek. “You ready for one more” he says quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum softly. Carefully, Jungkook lifts his hips up slightly from the cushion beneath him.

Gently holding you, he reaches down to grab his still, hard cock. Teasing your entrance you moan out from the sensitivity. You dig your face into the crook of his neck muffling your moans. Slowly he enters you, your warm walls sucking him in. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like he’ll slip through them and disappear. He starts in a slow pace, hands finding comfort on the nape of your neck. You move your head to face him watching his face contort in pleasure. Leaning in you place soft pecks on his lip gradually becoming rougher.

His pace picks up, roughly thrusting in hard. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high. “Use me, baby,” you say in his ear. “I can take it” With those words he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his face into your neck. “Fuck, angel you’re so good to me” With one last stroke he fills you with his cum. Riding out his high he takes your soft lips with his and brings you into a passionate kiss. He can feel your juices drip from your spent cunt.

Jungkook carefully lifts you in his arms and brings you to his bedroom, laying you on his bed. He grabs a towel from his bathroom and brings it over to you. The feeling of the wet towel against you makes you twitch. He worriedly looks up at you trying to read your expression. “Are you okay?” he says.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you whisper, laying a hand on his cheek.

“You wanna take a shower?” nodding your head you let him carry you away to the bathroom to help you wash up. He walks in first and sets you down on your feet. Jungkook leans over to grab the body wash from the corner of the shower.

Delicately rubbing it across your body. His arm is wrapped around your tummy, keeping you stable. You watch as the soap suds wash away, listening to his calm breathing. Next, he grabs the bottle of shampoo, squirting some into his hand and then soothingly rubbing it into your hair. You turn in his arms wrapping your arms around his waist, closing your eyes as you let him take care of you. That glowing feeling in your chest starts up again. The same feeling you have any time you’re with him. Your ear is against his strong chest. Listening to his heart beat rhythmically.

You don’t notice how tired you are until you suddenly feel the softness of his pillow hitting your head. Jungkook’s strong arms hold you tightly causing you to fall into a slumber. That night you dream about all of the events that happened.

The loud noise on the other side of the door causes you to wake up. You turn around to an empty spot on the bed next to you. You lay in bed for a moment, replaying the events of last night. When the door opens to Jungkook’s door Jimin doesn’t expect you to walk out of it wearing his best friend’s shirt. “Oh hi, ___,” he says with a pan of eggs in his hand. You look around for Jungkook, but to your dismay, he’s nowhere to be found. “Where’s Jungkook?” you say.

“Uhh, I don’t know. He’s not in there?” he says with confusion written on his face.

“No, I thought he’d be out here”

“I didn’t see him when I got home this morning”

Questions start to brew in your head. You walk over to your purse that you left on the couch, digging for your phone. Looking through your contacts you look for the man in question.

Me: Hey, where’d you go? [9:15 AM]

You walk over to pick up your clothes off the floor, embarrassed as Jimin sits at the table eating his breakfast. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, he never leaves unannounced. You shake your head and give him a small nod.

When you get back to your apartment you set down your bag on the sofa next to the coffee table, slumping your body down along with it. The TV remote set beside you as you turned it on to kill time now that you no longer had class for the time being. About an hour passes by and still no sign of Jungkook. Your suspicion grows larger. He never takes this long to respond.

The sound of your keys rings through your ear as you pick them up from the bowl next to the door. You drive with only one place in mind. The rapid knocking disrupts Jin’s peaceful slumber. His mouth was wide open as he sleeps his life away. Quickly he jolts from his bed and walks over to his front door. “Who the hell is knocking at my door at eleven o’clock in the morning?” he grumbles under his breath. When he opens the door he’s met with an irritated look on your face. “__?”

“Where’s Jungkook? I spent the night at his and he disappeared and now he isn’t returning my messages”

Jin looks at you in confusion. “Is everything alright? He hasn’t come by in a while” he says

“I don’t know, I’m just-” you pause

“I’m worried about him”

Now Jin looks even more confused. “Daddy?” Minchae speaks behind her father, dressed in her unicorn pajamas and half of her hair is up in a small bun. The moment she realizes it’s you on the other side of the door she gasps in joy and quickly runs up to you, engulfing you with her tiny arms. “Hi sweetie,” you say, a soft smile playing across your lips. “Are you here to see Uncle Kookie?!” she exclaims. “Ahhh Minnie, I think mommy wanted to finish doing your hair, only one side of your head is done”

“Mommy said she was gonna put my hair into space buns!”

“Ohh so that’s what those are called, well you better hurry up so you look even more beautiful for today” you watch as the father-daughter scene plays out. You can’t believe how much you’ve grown to love this little girl in only one night. Absolutely adorable. “I’m sorry, ___ but I haven’t seen Kook in at least a few weeks.” a look of disappointment grows across your features. “It’s okay, thank you,” you say.

You sit in your car –completely distraught. Your phone in your hand, tight in your grasp. The device buzzes once, and then twice. No answer. Jungkook looks down at his phone, reading your name with the cute flower emoji that always reminded him of you. He couldn’t bring himself to face you yet. Every single time he’s around you it’s like you consume him. It’s like he’s lost in his own world filled with you. Nobody around him matters except for you – and it terrifies the fuck out of him this feeling completely engulfs him.

Jungkook lies in the open field close to the park he took you to all those weeks ago. Trapped in nothing but a void of endless thoughts of what he has to do now. Mind hazy. He looks down at his phone again, your name appears once again. For the second time, he ignored it.

1 month later

The fall leaves crunch under your new Uggs you bought a while back. The new semester has started and now it is time for endless nights of no sleep and studying. The buzzing of your phone vibrates against you, pulling it out of your back pocket. “Hey,” you say. “Hi, you wanna meet up later during lunch?” You pull your phone away from your ear to check if you have any classes around that time. “Yeah, let’s meet up at one?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then” You hang up the phone and continue on your way to class. When you get there, there aren't as many students as you were expecting. Some of them may have still been on vacation. I mean, could you blame them? No one ever wants to go back to school after a long break. But it has to be done somehow.

You sit down in the seat you always sat at, looking over to the seat next to you. Feeling pain in your chest as you think about the man that would sit next to you every day. The man that broke your heart. Looking away and down at your last semester notes to refresh your brain.

After the many hours of looking down at your professors, you finally manage to make it to the diner. You slump down into your seat, throwing your bag onto the one next to you. “Rough day?” Hoseok says. He decided to transfer to your school during his second semester. He says that they offered more than they did back home. “Dude, you don’t understand how much my head hurts. It’s only my first day back and I’ve written so many notes it’s not even funny” you complain. Your best friend chuckles at you as he looks down at the menu to figure out what he was going to have for lunch.

“How do you like the school? It’s nice, right” you ask. He looks up at your question.

“Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize how big it was” There’s silence for a moment until he speaks again. “Have you heard from him?” You pause whatever you’re doing and bring your attention to him again. Clearing your throat you say “No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I want to”

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

“Uh-” you pause

“The last time I spent the night with him after that party” It’s silent again.

“What a douche,” he says. “He’s an asshole for that. How does he go from being all over you and acting like a couple when-”

“I don’t know, I just wanna stop talking about it.” you interrupt. From then on you only talk about school and the thought of you getting a cat.

“How can they be so cute yet so dumb sometimes?” you ask yourself. The compilation of cats is displayed on the TV as you’re dressed in a thin tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Ice cream in your hands –after the eventful day you had you deserved it. It’s not only when you're interrupted by a knocking on your door. After finally getting comfortable you, once again, have to get up. Maybe it was Hoseok coming back to get something he left. “What did you forget this time?” you yell.

You completely stop when you find that it isn’t your best friend on the other side of your door. But the man that would give you those same sparkly eyes whenever he was around you. “What are you doing here?” it comes out in almost a whisper. “__” Jungkook walks forward to hold you.

You flinch back, moving your arms to cross over your stomach. His heart hurts at your actions. But he understands why you did it.

“I wanna talk to you.” he says quietly.

He steps into the house and closes the door behind him. “What is there to talk about? I didn’t think you had anything to talk about” you threw at him.

“I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry?”

“You’re sorry for making me look like a fucking idiot?” you can feel your blood begin to boil. Tear ducts forming at your waterline –the lump in your throat beginning to grow, preventing you from speaking.

“You’re not sorry for shit Jungkook, you made me feel so shitty about myself for thinking-” your voice breaks “For thinking what, __?”

“For thinking that you loved me! For thinking that I actually saw something with you, fuck! Jungkook, you don’t understand, you don’t understand how much you hurt me.” you cry to him screaming at the top of your lungs.

Jungkook is completely still. Unmoving.

“I do, love you” he says quietly.

But you don’t take it.

“Bullshit”

You move your head to the side, not baring to look at him. “Get out,”

“Please-”

“Get out! I don’t want to see you anymore” you exclaim. But, he resists. Jungkook walks up to you, wanting so badly to hold you for hurting you. Much to his surprise, you let him. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says into your hair. Your face is buried into his chest, the fabric of his hoodie becoming soaked because of you. “No” you muffle.

“No. No, no, no!”

You push him away. Hitting on his chest, he looks down at you, a shameful look on his face. “Get out! Leave!” you pound on his chest. He takes every hit like it’s nothing. It only irritates you further. “Please, leave Jungkook” he nods in response. Slowly making his way to the same door he walked through.

Sobs echo through the apartment. Falling to your knees you cry into your hands.

Jungkook, still on the other side of the door, hears your sobs. His own tear fell down his round cheeks. He couldn’t do anything but beat himself up over and over again for the way he treated you. For the way he acted towards you and for leaving you in such an awful state. He makes it back to his car, and he sits there for a moment in silence, lip quivering as he thinks about everything he had put you through.

Present

“Finally! It took you about five thousand years to leave that room” Jimin says dramatically. The afternoon sun was shining and he had been in and out of the house for the majority of the day. However, Jungkook had been wallowing in his guilt. The guilt he’s felt for the past month and the additional days. The quiet boy sits at the counter sluggishly. Days passed since he last saw you. You were all he thought about – day and night every hour and every second. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a total fuck up” voice groggy.

“C’mon, have you at least tried talking to her?” there’s a long silence until Jungkook says something. “She doesn’t want to talk-” Just the thought of not being able to hold you or even look at you is killing him on the inside. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Man, what the fuck am I going to do? I’m so lost” he admits.

He was so scared of this. Losing you. You were the bane of his happiness and he did everything but keep you safe, instead, he completely let everything go – including you. The cluttering of the bowl and spoon snaps Jungkook out of his thoughts. “Well you need to eat, I haven’t seen you this disoriented since you had to say bye to Gureum when you left home. You’re even worse now”

His appetite has gone away ever since he stopped talking to you. He had been spiraling, thinking all about you – how he felt about you. He couldn’t take it anymore, the overthink, the constant hurt of not spending his time with you. Staring at his bowl of cereal contemplating if he should call you, he doubts you’d ever pick up but he has to try, right? Jungkook stands from the counter and walks back to his room. “Hey! You didn’t finish eating!” Jimin exclaims from the other room. Frantically, Jungkook searches everywhere for his phone. He hadn’t picked it up in days and has been sitting somewhere in his room untouched.

Finally, when he finds the piece of technology he quickly presses the power button; wishing for it to turn on already. To his dismay, it had been dead since he set it down. He looks around for his charger. After finding the wretched thing he plugs it into the outlet next to his bed and plugs the other end into his phone.

After what felt like hours the phone displayed a white apple in the middle of it. He scrolls through his contacts looking for your name desperately. That flower that will forever remind him of you appears in front of his eyes and he quickly clicks it. The multiple rings vibrate through his ear.

“C’mon”

Your call has been forwarded–

“Fuck” he tries one more time. The ringing begins but quickly ends after the fourth. His brows touched in distraught. “Fuck __,” he says under his breath. Out of impulse, Jungkook picks up whatever clothes he finds first and throws them on. Not caring about how he’d look in front of you.

He rushes out of his bedroom door and picks up his keys from the bowl set on the counter. After hearing the noise Jimin says “Where are you going?” but before the younger could respond he was already out of the door. Upon opening the door Jungkook swiftly closes it when he gets into the driver’s seat and carefully but hurriedly makes his way to your place.

A stop light prevents him from getting there any quicker he yells “Fucking light, hurry up!”.

Following up after many stop signs and stop lights, he finally makes it to the place he yearns to be at the most. Almost running up the steps he trips over one. “Shit” He reaches your floor and walks up to the door. Repeatedly knocking on the wood. He takes his phone out of his sweat pocket and pulls up your chat.

Me: Please open the door [3:00 PM]

He waits for the dancing dots to appear and when they do his heart jumps for just a moment but only for it to settle down after reading your text.

__ 🌺: no i don’t want to see you [3:01 PM]

“I’m not gonna go away unless you open this door!!”

“Go away Jungkook!” he hears your voice over his excessive knocking.

“Please, I want to talk to you” It’s only when he hears shuffling on the other side of the door that he stops.

Everything disappears when he sees your face again. After going a day without seeing you. “What do you want” your eyes look everywhere but him.

“I love you.”

“And before you say anything let me just explain” you stand there blankly looking at his boba like eyes that you always adored.

“I love how much you care for others, I love how you can take a joke and not get upset about it, I love the way you look at me, I love the way you are with me, I love everything about you, __” you stare at him with glassy eyes. You bite your lip, preventing yourself from letting out a sob.

“I love you so much that I’m scared that I’ll lose you. Scared that you won’t love me back. Fuck I love you so much that it pains me to see how much I hurt you” now Jungkook has tears forming. You hear him sniffle, your hand coming up to wipe the tear that had slid down his cheek.

“Oh, Jungkook”

“I love you, too”

After hearing those three words, his hands cup your cheeks. “I love you so much,” he says against your lips — softly pecking until he wraps his around yours.

The early night breeze flows through your window. The large man wraps his arms around your waist, holding on to you tightly – almost as if you’d vanish if he let go. Your hands are tangled into his hair playing with the soft mane against your fingers. A show plays in the background that none of you are really paying attention to. His hands find their way under your shirt softly touching your skin. It’s not until you yawn into your hand does he looks up at you. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah, a little bit”

He moves up so he’s now in front of your face, and his eyes move down to your lips. Gently brushing against them. One of your arms wraps around his neck – securing him in his spot. “Do you want to go to bed?” you shake your head up and down and stare into his bright eyes.

To your surprise, he tightens his grip around your waist and properly carries you to your room. Jungkook kicks the door open softly and carefully places you on the bed. He hovers over you for just a moment until he’s leaning in. Lips locking, his hands roam your stomach. His tongue tangles with yours, his hand moving towards your face, cuffing your cheek delicately swiping his thumb over it.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says, pulling away a bit.

“You know what, I’m not really that tired.

That sly grin appears on your face and he shakes his head at it. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm, maybe I can stay up for another hour or two”

Slowly, he slides your body up further on the bed, hands roaming your waist. His lips place feather-light kisses on the side of your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him closer to you – your lips colliding. Delicately, handling you as if you’d break if he was any rougher. “Can I take this off?”

“Mm” Jungkook’s fingers hook with the waistline of your pants slowly dragging it down your body. Along with your panties, the cold air hits your pussy – a shiver running along your spine. Jungkook kisses down to your waist, lifting your shirt a bit to reveal the softness of your skin.

His mouth hovering over your nether lips. Kisses are pressed against your inner thigh. Your head tilted to the ceiling, relishing in his careful touches. Finally, Jungkook’s hands wrap around your thighs, bringing you closer to him. The warmth of his breath against your sex.

Your hands find comfort in his soft raven hair tugging harshly, you plead “Please, baby”

“I gotchu Angel, don’t worry” his eyes look up at your desperate expression. He dives in, licking a long stripe against your tainted pussy – legs thrown over his shoulders. Moaning, your other hand finds the pillow beneath your head. His erratic movements pull sounds from you that he’s been yearning to hear for so long now.

In complete bliss, he brings you impossibly closer. His tongue finds your bundle of nerves running figure 8s along where you’re most sensitive. A finger prods at your entrance, slowly but surely entering you. “Fuck,”

“Yeah? You like that baby?” he watches as your face contorts in pleasure. Soon enough he adds another. The nasty sounds of your soaked pussy fills the room. “Right there, Jungkook”

“Am I making you feel good Angel?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you scream.

“Shit, I’m gonna cu-” It’s then again that his mouth dives in. Much rougher, his tongue faster. The squeeze to your thighs and his harsh movements are what send you over the edge. “Yes! Jungkook, right there baby” you moan. Your essence spills onto him, he takes his time cleaning you up with his mouth. Your hips twitch out of sensitivity.

“I know, baby. I know”

He kisses your stomach before making his way back to you. He connects his lips with yours, you can taste yourself on his tongue. The sides of his mouth are wet from your cum. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one without clothes”

Jungkook’s hands run along the sides of your waist. “Who said I was done?”

He stands tall in front of you. His hands fall to grab the hem of his shirt – pulling it away from his torso along his sweatpants and boxers. His cock hitting his stomach, the sight making you drool.

Hurriedly he connects your lips, tongues colliding. Your hand finds the nape of his neck playing with his now long hair. The same feeling explodes within his chest. The same feeling he was so scared of dealing with, now becoming a part of him.

“I need you, baby”

“You have me, my love”

Love. So unfamiliar yet it comes so natural to him now – with you.

His cock prods at your entrance, sliding it against your wet pussy. “Eugh, baby please, please” you beg. Jungkook places small kisses against your lips as if to calm you down. “I gotchu baby, I need you to relax for me”

Slowly he slides home, easily entering you. Wrapping your arms around his neck –holding tightly. His hips rock into yours slowly at first. The euphoria of finally being with you filled his mind.

At last, he’s with the one he most treasures, the person that has found home in his heart.

His hands ran along your thigh, lifting so your legs were wrapped around him. After making sure you were comfortable enough he picks up the pace. The room is filled with the filthy sounds of your moans combined with the squelching of your pussy.

“You okay baby?”

Your head bobs up and down you say “More than okay”

He worships you through the whole night. Thanking every star above that they’ve brought you to him. “I love you, angel, so much,” he says in an almost whisper. His hand cupped your cheek running his thumb along the softness of your cheek.

“I love you too” stars are in your eyes. Watching as the man before you admires every part of you. Never wishing to let go. His hand comes down to where you need him most. Rubbing figure 8s along your clit. And this drives you over the edge. Your thighs shake, clenching around his cock – sucking him in.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum”

“Please come in me, baby. I need you so bad”

With his final thrust, your walls are covered with white ropes of his cum. The room is now silent, only filled with your breathing. “Did I hurt you?” he says. Silently shaking your head you look up at him, examining every freckle and mole on his well-structured face. “Let’s get you cleaned up then, hmm?”

“Okay”

Jungkook gets up and walks over to your bathroom, already knowing where everything is. When he comes back to the bed he finds you fast asleep. A small chuckle escapes from his lips as he plays with the towel in his hands. He picks up his boxers he had tossed somewhere across the room and puts them on. He looks through your drawers and looks for something more comfortable for you to sleep in.

Carefully he dresses you in one of his T-shirts he had left there a while ago and your panties. Jungkook tucks the both of you into bed, cuddling into your chest. Quietly he says “I love you, Angel. More than you’ll ever know.

The room is still dark when you wake up. The dim lamp is lit on the corner of your desk. Jungkook is sat up against the headboard, his phone illuminating his strong features. The clock beside you reads 5:45 AM. He hears the ruffling of your sheets beside him, pulling his attention away from his phone and to you.

“Hey, what are you doing awake?” you say. He shrugs his shoulders and replied “Dunno, couldn’t sleep”

“I was up all night thinking”

“Thinking about what?” he strikes your curiosity. “About how much I hurt you, and how I caused you to hurt so much because of my stupid feelings-”

“Baby, it doesn’t matter now. We’re together now, right? Let’s focus on us right now. Not what happened in the past” you say, kissing the mark on his shoulder. “I know, it’s just” he pauses. “I should’ve talked to you, instead of walking away, y’know? This all could’ve been avoided if I had just came to you.”

“I know that it’s hard to express what you’re feeling. But I can help you through that. The only way I can do that is if you don’t shut me out, I need to know what’s wrong so we can get through whatever it is together” his eyes are focused on his fingers playing with the comforter.

“Hey, look at me” Your hand tilts his head towards you. Those bubbly eyes looking at you now. “I need you to talk to me, okay?” he nods his head. Eyes teary after thinking about everything. He sniffles, lips quivering. “I love you,” you comfort. You run your thumb across his lips gently, calming him down. “I love you too” You lean closer to him, placing kisses against his lips.

“Uncle Kookie!!” Minchae calls for her favorite uncle. “Hey, munchkin, how are you?” he places a kiss on her cheek. You watch from behind your boyfriend smiling from ear to ear watching him with his baby niece. “I’m good! Hi auntie!” she says to you next. “Hey Minnie, I missed you!” you say as she practically dives into your arms. You both walk to the backyard where everyone else is. Everyone greets the both of you warmly. Hugs are given and small conversations are made.

You have occupied yourself with Aria as you speak on and on about how much Minchae has grown. Watching her play with all of the toys she had lying around in the grass. Jin and Namjoon stood by the grill conversing as well. Jimin had been playing one of his Mario games with Taehyung and Yoongi had his guitar in his hand, playing a soft melody, setting the mood.

This is what Jungkook had been looking for: surrounded by the people he loved the most. His eyes find you watching his niece do one of the funny dances she always likes to do. A smile adores your pretty lips, your cheeks rosy from the slight fall breeze. He loved seeing you happy like this, loved how you were with his friends, loved the way you always had room in your heart for anyone, no matter the circumstance.

Jungkook loved you and will forever say those three words for the rest of his life.

yay!! after so long, I've finished wait for your love 🥹. it has been a long time coming but i pray you all like it. this has to be my favorite to have written AND my longest! i do hope that in the future that i have the ability to create more stories like this one. i do have a few ideas in mind but ill let this one sink in 😊. happy reading lovelies 💜

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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