#enemies to lovers au taehyung

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (1)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, he's extremely rude, like extremely so, prank gone wrong, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, reader faints at the sight of blood, unfunny pranks, Yoongi is jaded, he's a softie once you get to know him, hospital visit, non-descriptive male masterbation, reader has a stutter when nervous, Yoongi just being in denial for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Another old draft I found buried in my Google Docs! I didn't need to change too much, and it's very loosely edited, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. This was rather long (and I don't know why I never posted it), so it had to be split into two parts because of Tumblr's new rules. Thanks for reading!

Next

Subject: Undergrad Mentoring From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 6:18 AM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,  

I’m forwarding an email from a brilliant undergraduate. Have you thought about mentoring a student? I really think you should.  

— Jin  

---

From: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 2:08 AM   To: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Subject: Undergraduate Research  

Dear Professor Kim,  

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences, majoring in microbiology. I’m incredibly interested in undergraduate research, particularly in your fascinating work on Helicobacter pylori and its connection to stomach cancer.  

Although I don’t have prior research experience, I’m hardworking and responsible, and I would appreciate the chance to join your team. Please let me know if you have space available in your lab.  

Attached are my CV and transcript.  

Thank you!  

Y/N Y/L/N  

---

Dr. Seokjin Kim Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

I stared at Jin's email, the words bouncing around in my head. No previous research experience? Oh great! Just fucking great!

As the clock hit noon, I trudged into the break room, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. It was my little escape, my sanctuary from the suffocating hallways of academia. Hoseok, the only graduate student I considered a friend, was already inhaling his lunch.

I plopped my Tupperware into the microwave, the day’s weight pressing down on me like a thick fog. “Jin wants me to take on an undergrad,” I grumbled, feeling the words stick in my throat.

“Seriously?” Hoseok asked, mouth half-full. He didn’t even bother to swallow before adding, “Have them do the dishes.”

“Oh man, this is going to suck,” I muttered, stirring my mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a person headed to their execution. “I have to train her, and she has zero lab experience. I don’t have time for this crap.”

The microwave beeped, its harsh sound grating against my nerves. I pulled out my steaming food, the steam rising ominously. “I tried to get out of it, but Jin insisted it’s ‘all part of the training.’” I mimicked his voice, nasal and overdramatic. Hoseok chuckled, nearly choking on his food.

I dug into my lunch, my mind racing. “She’s probably some pre-med trying to pad her CV. Calling our research ‘fascinating’ like she even knows what we do here—just another cookie-cutter student firing off a hundred emails.” 

“Maybe she’s cute?” Hoseok waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. My single status was a constant source of irritation for him. He meant well, but his attempts at matchmaking were like trying to fix a flat tire with a spoon.

“I already did my required TA-ing last year, and it nearly gave me an ulcer. I thought I was done with whiny undergrads! This really sucks!” The words burst out, hot and angry. The idea of babysitting a clueless student gnawed at me like a persistent itch.

I focused on my research, hoping it would be my ticket out of this academic purgatory. Mentoring an undergrad was the last thing I needed—a distraction threatening to derail my meticulously planned escape.

After lunch, I headed to the incubator to check on my cultures, the familiar hum a small comfort amidst the chaos. Then I settled at my desk, drafting a reluctant email to the undergrad, my words dripping with begrudging obligation.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 1:05 PM   To: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Come to the lab on Monday between 8 AM and 7 PM. Bring your schedule.  

Yoongi Min PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

This was going to suck.

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi Min?” A stranger’s voice cut through the quiet of the lab, and I felt my focus waver. I was knee-deep in DNA sequencing data, desperately searching for a start codon when the interruption struck like nails on a chalkboard.

“That’s him over there,” Jimin, my lab mate, replied. I didn’t need to look up; I knew he was pointing at me.

“CTT ATC GTG ACT…” I murmured; eyes glued to the screen. The code demanded my attention.

A shadow crept closer, invading my peripheral vision. I ignored it, hyper-fixated on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” the shadow solidified into the undergrad I’d been dreading. I continued to stare at the screen, unwilling to break my concentration.

“Did you bring your schedule?” My voice was clipped, an attempt to maintain my rhythm.

CGC CTC CGT ATG… There it was! I highlighted the start codon, feeling a small sense of victory amidst the irritation. Finally, I turned to face her. She held a crumpled piece of paper in trembling hands.

The crackling noise of the paper grated on my nerves, and I snatched it from her. A quick scan revealed she had a limited availability. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was.

“Do you want one or two credits?” I asked, filling out her form with practiced efficiency.

“Oh… um… t-two,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh great, a stammerer. I disliked her already. My frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“That’s ten hours a week,” I said, scribbling on the form. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, maybe some Wednesday mornings.” I thrust the completed form back at her and turned back to my computer.

“See you tomorrow,” I dismissed her with a wave, eager to end the interaction. Her stammering was already wearing on my patience.

When I returned from lunch, she was perched at my bench. A laugh escaped me at the sight of her attire.

“What the hell is that?” I pointed at her lab coat, which was covered in hand-drawn bacteria.

She jumped, eyes wide. “My la-la-lab coat?” she stuttered.

Oh great, she’s a fucking idiot.

I took a deep breath, scanning her outfit for safety violations. At least she wore closed shoes and jeans, but her long hair hung loose.

“You should tie your hair up. You’ll be working near the flame.”

She pulled a hairband from her wrist and started tying her hair back. As I walked past, I noticed the back of her lab coat had “Bacteria Rule” scrawled in huge letters.

Bacteria Rule? Is she serious? I wanted to stab my eyes out with the pen in my hand. Who wastes time drawing on a lab coat? Nobody in their right mind, that’s for sure.

Something was off about her—I was certain of it. Concerned about her competence, I decided she couldn’t be trusted with any real work. Instead, I assigned her mundane chores, the kind even a high schooler could handle. It might not have been what Jin envisioned, but it was the only way.

God, I’m already dreading this. Can it be Friday already?

Hoseok and I lounged in the break room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, Tupperwares in our laps. The lack of a proper dining table didn’t bother us; it still beat eating at our desks.

“How’s it going with the undergrad?” Hoseok asked, mouth full.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her,” I said, dead serious.

Hoseok laughed, even though I wasn’t joking.

“All she does is nod at what I say,” I elaborated. “Like one of those bobblehead dolls.” I stretched my neck and bobbed my head for effect. “Except she has bangs flopping all over her face when she nods frantically at everything I say.”

Hoseok snorted but kept eating.

“And she stutters! Well, when she speaks, that is. She doesn’t speak much. I kind of like that about her.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in love, bro.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I shot back, uninterested. I already knew where this was heading.

“Is she cute?” Hoseok asked, glancing at me with a smirk.

“She’s a baby.”

“Is she a cute baby?”

“Hoseok, she’s… she’s a zygote.”

“Well, maybe with this zygote, you’ll learn how to be human again.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly social, bro. All you do is lab stuff and occasionally hang out with me and Serena.”

“What are you talking about? I am social.” My tone came out whiny, betraying my disbelief.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, gesturing to my Tupperware. “So social that you prefer to eat alone in the lab over joining us in the break room?”

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re such a dork. I eat in here because the lab is a mess, not because I’m antisocial.” I shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi,” he laughed, clearly unconvinced.  

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about this right now. Instead, I grabbed my backpack, bracing myself for the next round of research duties.

After a few weeks of working together, I had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that the undergrad was following instructions better than I’d expected. If I could just ignore her ridiculous lab coat and the way those bangs flopped annoyingly over her forehead, she wouldn’t be half bad. The real annoyance, though, was her constant presence invading my space. But honestly, it could be worse; at least she wasn’t stammering nonstop. Most of the time, she barely spoke, and mercifully, she didn’t ask a ton of questions.

As I walked back from lunch with Hoseok, I was surprised to realize I didn’t dread the thought of the undergrad being in the lab when I arrived. Maybe having her shadow me wouldn’t be the end of the world after all.

Of course, the moment that thought crossed my mind, I jinxed myself. Stepping into the lab, I found her cleaning my bench, and a wave of irritation crashed over me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, turning slowly to face me, her gloved hands still gripping an ethanol squeeze bottle. “I-I just thought I’d clean up a bit,” she stammered.

“Did you touch my samples?” I shot back, a surge of panic coursing through me.

“Which samples?” 

“Those!” I pointed at the upside-down tubes that had been perfectly positioned when I left, now carelessly shoved to the side. 

“I-I just mov—”

“Did you touch my RNA samples?” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air—an annoyingly stupid fish. “Do you know how labile RNA is?”

“L-la-labile?” 

“Yes! Unstable—easily degradable. The main point here: you don’t touch my RNA samples!” 

“I-I used gloves… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes. 

If she started crying, I was really going to lose it. 

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm the storm brewing inside me. Slipping on my own gloves, I gently set my samples back in their rightful place, praying I hadn’t lost a week’s worth of work. 

I could hear her sniffling next to me, and I groaned out loud. “Why don’t you and your la-la-lab coat coat go find something useful to do?” 

I listened as she shuffled away, clearly eager to escape my sight. I should have known better than to think this arrangement would work out.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Monday, February 14, 2024, 6:27 AM To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Yoongi,  

Part of the undergrad training involves more than just doing chores. Cleaning dishes, stacking pipette tips, and capping tubes do not count as experiments.  

I expect your undergrad to have enough experimental data to give a presentation at the end of the semester.  

Jin  

What the hell? Did she tell him I’m only having her do chores? 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jin was right, though. All she’d done these past few weeks were chores. Aside from that little incident with my RNA samples, she hadn’t completely messed up yet. Maybe I should cut her some slack and give her a real project. She might learn something—or at the very least, realize how frustrating science could be and decide to give up on it sooner rather than later. 

Oh God, how was she going to give a presentation if she couldn’t even say one coherent sentence without stuttering? 

This would be an embarrassment, not just for her but for me too. If she messed up, she’d make me look bad. 

Decision made. I needed to lighten up a bit and actually try to teach her something.

On Thursday, the undergrad was busy with her chores when I approached her, project sheet in hand. 

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. “What is this?” 

“Your project for the next few weeks.” 

Her face lit up with excitement. 

“You didn’t have to go crying to Jin. I was going to give you a project anyway.” 

Her smile faltered into a frown. “W-What are you talking about?” She gazed up at me, bewildered, but I waved her off, unwilling to explain further. 

“Enough chattering. Those tubes aren’t going to wash themselves.” 

Gotcha, undergrad. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.

It was the first week of real work for the undergrad, and I felt a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. My palms were clammy, and my heart raced uncomfortably. 

Am I excited about this? Nah… I’m probably just hungry.

“Do you know what PCR is?” 

She nodded eagerly, pulling out her notepad, ready to take notes. 

I explained how I wanted her to amplify two toxin genes from a set of H. pylori samples that had just arrived that morning from the hospital. Naturally, I only gave her a small subset of the total samples. It was a manageable number—enough for her to play around with, but not so many that I’d be ready to murder her if she messed up.

As usual, the undergrad took notes on everything I said, jotting down even where I pointed out the locations of various equipment. For all I knew, she was sketching a detailed map of the lab in that notepad of hers.

The undergrad sat at the bench, PCR tubes lined up in front of her, the protocol to her left, pipettes to her right, and a rack of reagents looming in the back. I watched her as she stared at everything, nervously picking at the edges of her gloves. 

She was going to drive me insane. 

“Do you know how to use the pipettes?” 

She looked up at me, shaking her head timidly. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” My voice came out louder than intended, and she flinched. 

We were never going to get anywhere like this. 

I took a deep breath and tried again, grabbing one of the micropipettes. “You set the volume here.” I pointed to the rings. “Clockwise to increase, counterclockwise to decrease.” 

I demonstrated, twisting the rings as I explained the display window and where to discard the disposable tips when she was done. 

After a few trials, the undergrad carefully pipetted into the PCR tubes, preparing the reaction with surprising precision. 

She was focused, making sure not to contaminate anything. It was clear she was paying close attention to every detail. 

Skilled hands, I noted, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

I led the undergrad into the darkroom, where shadows clung to the walls like forgotten secrets, ready to ensnare us. The air was thick with a sharp, chemical tang, buzzing with anticipation as we approached the agarose gel. The PCR products shimmered faintly under the dim light, a hidden treasure waiting to be revealed. Surprisingly, a flicker of excitement sparked within me, a rare departure from my usual brooding.

“The ethidium bromide binds to the DNA,” I explained, my voice echoing softly in the sterile silence. “When we expose it to UV light, it fluoresces an orange color. You’ll see the PCR products light up on the gel.”

She walked beside me, clutching the gel like a sacred relic, her wide eyes absorbing every word. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, likely wishing she had her notepad to document my brilliance, as if capturing my words would somehow validate her existence.

As we stepped into the darkroom, she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights, before gingerly placing the gel inside the UV box. She moved carefully, avoiding the pitfalls of air bubbles that could ruin everything. Either she’d done this before, or she had the sense to read up on it. 

Good. I liked a prepared undergrad.

Once she’d set the gel, I instructed her to turn off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, and I leaned in, my heart racing a little faster. Peering into the UV box, I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, look at that. All your reactions worked.”

“Really?” Her voice trembled from the back, laced with a quiver of hope.

“Yeah,” I called back, though the shadows played tricks on me. “Come closer so you can see.”

I waited, but she lingered in the gloom, frozen as if afraid to approach the light. “Come here, I don’t bite,” I coaxed, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.

Finally, she moved, her profile illuminated under the eerie purple glow. Her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face like dawn piercing through a dark night. I snorted softly, amused by how easily undergrads were impressed.

After she soaked in the spectacle, I showed her how to take a photo of her gel, and we returned to the lab. She began dutifully filling in her lab notebook, and a glimmer of pride swelled within me. That was until I checked her progress later. The notebook was pristine—a meticulous record of her every move since day one. Hope flickered in my chest, only to sputter out when I turned to the last page. There it was, taped prominently: a picture of the gel with “All worked!” scrawled underneath, accompanied by a crude smiley face.

A fucking smiley face.

This undergrad, I thought, definitely had a screw loose.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I glanced down at my sweater, a worn piece of fabric riddled with holes—just like my soul. It was what I had been wearing all day, and it sufficed. 

“It has holes in it.”

“And?” I shot back, genuinely baffled. It was just clothing—a shield against the chill of the world.

“Are you making a fashion statement? You do know grunge was over twenty years ago? I know you live in Seattle and all, but I’m not digging the Kurt Cobain look… at all.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I’m starting to regret bringing you to this.”

“Relax, it’s just beers with Hobi and Serena,” she said, rolling her eyes like I was some petulant child.

I raked a hand through my hair, but it sprang back defiantly, so I slapped on a beanie to cover the chaos.

“You know, Yoongi, it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hair once in a while. How are you going to meet any cute girls?”

Here we go again.

“Yoonji, would you get off my case? I don’t want to meet anybody.” 

Yoonji dropped in at least once a month, a whirlwind of concern and relentless nagging. She never believed me when I claimed to be fine over the phone. 

It was endearing, in a way, but mostly a burden I didn’t need. My family was my anchor, yet their relentless need to take care of me felt like shackles.

“Okay, okay... let’s go then.” 

“It’s just beers, for crying out loud.” 

“I’m telling you to relax.” 

In the car, I felt her eyes boring into me. “It’s just... I worry about you.” She brushed her hand along my arm, and I sighed.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could see the disbelief flickering across her face. “Really. I’m just tired of school. I want to start real life already. I’ll be twenty-six this summer, and I’m still stuck in this academic limbo.”

“Hell, I’m twenty-seven!” Hoseok said when we arrived at the bar, lifting his pint in a mock salute. “And look at all the fuck I give!” He downed it with a flourish.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I shot back.

“Hey,” Serena interjected, her tone warning.

“It’s okay…” Hoseok waved dismissively. “He’s just got a bad case of graduate bitterness.”

Graduate bitterness... yes, that was exactly it. A malaise that settled in my bones like a persistent chill. I glanced around, my throat tightening as if the weight of my uncertainty was squeezing the life out of me.

I led the undergrad through the winding corridors of the building, our footsteps echoing like whispers in the shadows. She walked beside me in near silence, her gaze occasionally darting down to her notepad, scribbling furiously as if the ink might escape her. If only she spent as much time observing her surroundings as she did with her frantic notes, she wouldn’t need them to find her way back to the sequencing facility.

There was something peculiar about her. She avoided meeting my eyes, her demeanor skirting the edges of unease, a deep-seated shyness that pricked at my irritation. And Hoseok thinks I’m the antisocial one!

As we turned a corner, I pondered the unspoken rules of social behavior in the lab when we suddenly bumped into Jungkook Wand, another graduate student known for his knack for lurking around.

“Min,” he greeted, his gaze fixated on my undergrad, likely eyeing her in that ridiculous lab coat that looked like it had seen better days. Why she insisted on wearing that tattered garment was beyond me.

“We missed you at happy hour,” he added, his eyes still glued to her, ignoring me completely.

Every Friday, the department hosted a gathering that, while lame, at least offered beer. Last week, Yoonji was visiting, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into that debacle.

“Yeah, my cousin was in town,” I managed, trying to shake off the feeling of being an afterthought.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he turned his attention to her. I should probably introduce them, but for the life of me, her name eluded me. Panic set in like a cold sweat.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that felt a bit too eager.

Shit. What was her name again?

The girl glanced up at me, and a flash of annoyance crossed her features, as if she could read my mind. “I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with indignation as she extended her hand. The scowl she shot me could peel paint off the walls.

Y/N. The name landed in my mind like a lead weight. How had I forgotten it?

Before I could muster an excuse, Jungkook was launching into conversation, his gaze lingering on her with a familiarity that irked me. I didn’t like Jungkook, nor the way he looked at my undergrad, so I steered her away from him, back toward the safety of the lab.

Now, what was her name again? Damn it.

The following week, I was knee-deep in sequence alignments at my cluttered desk when the fire alarm shrieked, slicing through the stillness like a knife. I turned to find my undergrad, her wide eyes betraying sheer panic. 

She thought it was real. In that moment, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. 

“Run, Becca! Run!” I shouted, leaping from my chair.

“What?” 

The color drained from her face, and I couldn't help but laugh as confusion and fear played out across her features— priceless. I doubled over, laughter bubbling out like soda from a shaken can. 

The alarm blared on, drowning out her startled gasp as she clutched a rack of tubes, trembling. “It’s just a fire drill! Relax!” I finally managed to gasp.

She set the tubes down, took a deep breath, and shot me a glare, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was not funny,” she huffed, her voice laced with indignation. “And my name is Y/N!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me with echoes of my laughter still ringing in my ears. 

Oh, being social was unexpectedly entertaining!

The fire alarms continued to test my patience, ringing again and again. Each time, I chuckled at the memory of her startled expression. Now, standing outside for what felt like the fifth time, I glanced sideways at Y/N, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands shoved into her pockets. 

“Want to grab some coffee?” I asked, feeling an odd urge to make amends.

She blinked at me, surprise flickering across her face as if she couldn’t believe I was actually talking to her.

The cafeteria at the library was our destination, and we walked in silence, the clouds parting for a moment to let in the faintest hint of sunshine. 

As we stood in line, I noticed her tense shoulders. Suddenly, she muttered a string of curses under her breath. Before I could react, her arm was around mine, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

She maintained her smile but released me, stepping in front. “Say something funny,” she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

“What?”

Then she erupted in laughter, leaving me standing there in utter confusion.

She pressed a hand against my chest, and I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. Was this how lab partners acted in her world?

But just as quickly as the laughter came, it faded, and she stepped back, looking sheepish, as if the moment had been a strange dream.

I moved up in line to get my coffee. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, shaking her head. I decided to drop the subject entirely.

As we started heading back, she caught up to me, her expression suddenly earnest. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “There’s this guy, Jonah. He won’t take a hint. I thought if he saw me with someone…”

I tuned out her words, her rhythm a blur as I realized just how bizarre everything was.

Could undergrads get any weirder?

Sitting alone on a bench Wednesday afternoon, I savored the solitude when Jungkook appeared, looming over me like a vulture. 

“Min,” he said, his tone dripping with false familiarity.

I glared at him, not in the mood for whatever nonsense he was about to spill. 

“Where’s that cute little thing you were with?” 

“Who?”

“You know, the one in the colorful lab coat.”

Colorful? I snorted, recalling the eyesore she wore.

“She’s not here,” I replied curtly.

“Got her number?”

“Why would I have her number? And why do you want it?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “You know… you and her…”

I cut him off, anger flaring in my chest. “Me and her what?”

“Is she up for grabs?”

I couldn’t believe he’d come to my lab just to ask about her.

“Jungkook, she’s an undergrad.”

He laughed, completely oblivious. “Dude, have you looked at her? She’s fine.”

“Yeah, and she’s crazy.”

“Even better!” His expression made my stomach churn.

“I don’t have her number, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

With that, I shoved my earbuds in, blocking him out as he stormed off, his words echoing in my mind.

Fucking creep.

Even though it was Friday—one of those days Y/N usually avoided—the lab felt off-kilter, like an old, rickety house holding its breath. She hovered at my desk while I pulled up the sequencing results on my laptop. Last night, I’d sent her a simple email, expecting a casual response. But her reply had come back faster than a ghost in the night. She wanted to see the data today.

As we sat there, the silence between us thickened, almost palpable. Her face was a mask of concentration, but her expressions kept faltering, crumpling like old paper. Not that I cared too much; she had to learn that research was 90% disappointment wrapped in frustration.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness, as if she were mourning a lost hope.

“Maybe you made a mistake?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.

“I was very careful,” she shot back, defensive, her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

How typical. Pre-med students always thought they were immune to failure, that the universe owed them success on a silver platter.

“It happens,” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the tension.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“There's a reason it’s called research. If you only had to do it once, it would be called a search.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“You start over.”

“From the beginning?” Her voice trembled, disbelief flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at her notebook, defeated. Her eyes flitted to the calendar on the wall, and her pencil scratched furiously on the pad. “Can I come tomorrow? I want to have cells growing by Monday.”

Her eagerness surprised me. I added “overachiever” to the growing list of quirks that made Y/N so peculiar.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that.”

“Don’t you have a frat party to attend?” I quipped, but her glare silenced me, a reprimand that cut through the lab's sterile air. “Fine, come tomorrow,” I relented, knowing I’d be here anyway. Weekends in the lab were the best; no distractions, just the hum of machinery and the click of keys.

“Awesomesauce!” she chirped, her smile lighting up the dim room. I rolled my eyes, annoyed yet impressed by her determination. Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took for grad school after all.

Saturdays were sacred—my little slice of peace amid the storm of classes and lab reports. After a killer morning workout, I made my way back to the lab, my damp hair fluttering in the cool breeze. Just as I settled into my zone, my phone buzzed with a message that snapped me back to reality. 

“Mr. Graduate Student, I’m at the front of the building. Y/N.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her cheesy attempt at humor. By the time I reached the entrance, I found her wrestling with her hair, tying it up into a high ponytail that looked like it could give anyone a headache just by looking at it. But when she caught sight of me, her face lit up with a grin that could brighten the cloudiest day.

“Very funny,” I replied dryly as I held the door open for her. “It’s Yoongi, remember?”

As we stepped inside, the silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I considered tossing out a quip about her hairstyle or her lab coat, but then a mischievous prank began to brew in my mind—dark and delightful, like a noxious weed spreading through my thoughts.

“Start your experiment from scratch,” I said, forcing a serious tone. “Could be that my reagents were contaminated.”

Her eyes widened, and I could barely suppress a smirk. It was a complete lie, of course; the old autoclave in the corner was already wheezing like an ancient beast. But picturing her panic was too tempting. 

Settling at my bench, I could barely contain my excitement. But instead of the expected rush of alarm, there was a loud crash—glass shattering like a million tiny dreams—and then silence. 

What the hell was that?

I found her on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that sparkled like lost hopes. The autoclave hissed and wheezed, steam curling around us like a ghost. I rushed to her side, trying to stem the leak with my hands. 

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her. She looked like a wilted flower, her head buried in her knees, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you okay?” I tried again, dread pooling in my stomach as I saw her trembling hands. Her breath came in quick bursts, and my heart raced. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t catch, her palm pressed hard against her leg. “Let me see,” I urged, only to be hit with a wave of horror: a deep gash across her palm, crimson pooling onto the cold tiles.

Oh, no...

Panic surged as I scooped her up, her fragile body slumping against mine. “You’re okay,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. “It’s okay.” 

I hurried her to the sink, the cool water a sharp contrast to the rising heat in the lab. She buried her face in my chest, her panic palpable against my shirt. 

“Is there still blood?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly gone. But we need to get to the ER,” I insisted, urgency tightening my tone.

She groaned, eyes still shut tight, her composure slipping away. 

“Please, open your eyes,” I pleaded, gently lifting her chin. I rubbed my thumb along her cheek, trying to anchor her to reality.

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded weakly, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I swept her back up, panic clawing at my throat. 

What have I done? The air felt thick with dread, and I knew I had to get her out of there. 

I carried her to my car, the world outside fading into a blur, as if the universe was holding its breath. Carefully, I placed her in the passenger seat, her eyes still shut like she was blocking out the horrors around us. I fastened her seatbelt, feeling the weight of the moment. "Please say something," I urged, glancing at her, desperate for any sign of life.

"I hate blood," she mumbled, voice fragile.

Relief washed over me—she was talking. It struck me as strange that a pre-med student would detest blood. "Are you still dizzy?" 

She nodded, and my heart sank at her admission. The crease in her forehead deepened, and I wanted nothing more than to smooth it away.

"We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I promised, focusing on the road ahead.

"Would you distract me, so I don’t think about the blood?" 

"I don’t know how," I admitted sheepishly.

"Say something funny." 

"Funny? Okay. It’s pretty funny that you want to go to med school and you faint at the sight of blood." 

"Who says I'm pre-med?" she shot back, and I blinked in surprise.

"You're not?" 

"No, and that really wasn’t funny. Talking about blood isn’t going to help me forget about it." 

Frustration clawed at me as I struggled for something to say. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Don’t you know any jokes?" There was an edge of frustration in her voice.

"No." 

"Everyone knows at least one joke, Yoongi." The way she said my name sent a jolt through me, tightening my stomach with something close to admiration.

Before I knew it, I blurted out the lamest joke I could remember from college. "Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar," I began, watching her lips twitch upward. "One says, ‘I think I've lost an electron.’ The other asks, ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes. I'm positive.’"

I cringed at how cheesy it was, but when her smile finally broke through, it felt like winning the lottery.

"That was lame," she said, but the glimmer of her smile gave me hope.

At a red light, I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were still closed, but the pale green tint to her skin had faded, replaced by a healthy glow. My heart swelled with relief.

The driver behind me honked impatiently, snapping me back to reality.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, noticing her fingers curling around her injured wrist. 

She nodded, a pout forming on her lips that made my heart ache. I nearly missed a stop sign, cursing under my breath.

"God, I’m such a jerk," I muttered, guilt gnawing at me. I had messed up, all in the name of a stupid joke. I racked my brain for something else to say but came up empty.

"I don’t know any more jokes, but I was good at geeky pickup lines back in college," I offered, desperate to lift her spirits. Her smile returned, lighting up the car.

"This better be good," she warned teasingly.

"If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase, so I could unzip your genes." 

"Oh my God," she snorted, and I laughed, relieved to see her react. "Did you use that on anybody?" 

"Maybe," I hinted, my chest tightening with excitement.

"Did it work?" 

"No," I admitted, but I was laughing now, and she was grinning, even with her eyes still closed. I was determined to keep her smiling. 

"Oh! Do you like The Police?" 

"The police?" She frowned, confusion crossing her features.

"Yeah…" 

"As in the profession?" 

"No, you dork. The band. Sting's band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I guess." She shrugged.

And against my better judgment, I cleared my throat and began singing. "Every bond you break… Every electron you take…"

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, surprise and delight dancing across her face. I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows, and her smile broadened, banishing the shadows of panic. "Oh, can’t you see, you’re covalently bonded to me…" I sang, pouring my energy into the ridiculousness of it. Nothing felt more beautiful than the light in her eyes. 

How had I never noticed how amazing her smile was before?

We pulled into the University’s Medical Center in under ten minutes, just like I expected. I parked quickly and rushed around to help her out, but she stumbled out on her own, nearly losing her balance. I caught her just before she could face plant onto the pavement—or worse, land hard on her injured hand.

I could feel irritation bubbling up inside me. Did she really think I wouldn’t help? Sure, I was an idiot sometimes, but I still had a decent sense of gentlemanly instincts. 

“Can you walk?” I asked, keeping my hand around her elbow as we approached the entrance.

“I think so,” she replied softly, but I kept my grip steady, guiding her into the emergency room. 

Inside, a flicker of relief hit me—the place was nearly empty, and we should get seen fairly quickly. “Hello,” I said to the front desk lady, who was glued to her computer screen. She glanced up, her expression completely bored, and didn’t reply. Instant dislike. 

“She cut her hand, and it looks deep,” I said, gesturing toward Y/N beside me.

“Name?” The front desk lady’s question hung in the air like a sword about to drop, and suddenly, I froze.

Goddammit…

She didn’t mean my name. My stomach twisted as I desperately searched my memory. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten her name again.

It starts with a B, doesn’t it? I racked my brain, stalling as the front desk lady’s eyebrows shot up impatiently.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” came the shaky voice next to me, cutting through my fog of embarrassment.

God, I was such an idiot! I wanted to punch myself for being so careless.

I looked at her—Y/N—and even though she shook her head, a grin crept onto the corner of her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I was forgiven. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I repeated silently, determined that this time I would remember.

I was convinced that the “doctor” tending to Y/N wasn’t a real doctor—not yet, anyway. He claimed the cut wasn’t deep and that it hadn’t damaged any tendons or nerves. He even said it was clean enough to glue shut, which apparently was a thing now. But my gut twisted with doubt; something about him set off alarms in my head.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, clutching my hand like it was a lifeline while this wannabe physician—Doogie Howser, I mentally dubbed him—cleaned her wound. She perched on the examination table, her injured hand resting on a tray beside her, as I stood behind her, anxiety tightening my chest. In the chaos of her injury and my desperate attempts to care for her, her ponytail had loosened, hanging low at the nape of her neck. A sudden curiosity gripped me: What would her hair look like, cascading down like a waterfall?

“Y/N,” I whispered, leaning closer, needing to say her name again, to engrain it into my memory. “Breathe through your mouth. It’ll help.”

I lingered near her neck, unable to pull away, drawn by something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to find the words to describe her scent—something fresh, like the morning air spilling through an open window—but words failed me. I’d caught a hint of it earlier when I held her close at the sink, but now, in the confined space of the ER, it enveloped me, bringing back echoes of happier times.

Y/N smelled good—no, different. Refreshing, like the world waking up after a long sleep. And I was trapped in this moment, lost in the intoxicating blend of her presence and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

Every time she flinched, my instinct was to lash out at Doogie. I wanted to punch him for every wince that slipped from her lips, but I knew that wouldn’t help; it might just make things worse. I fought against the urge to ask the nurse for someone else to help her, terrified to leave her side. So I stayed, fingers entwined with hers, trying to offer some measure of comfort in the storm of uncertainty.

When Doogie finished and began to bandage her hand, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as she released her grip. I stepped back, taking a breath that felt heavy in my chest. Tension still coiled inside me; I hated that she’d gotten hurt, but a part of me marveled at her resilience. Despite her aversion to blood, she had held herself together with a strength I hadn’t given her credit for. There was more to Y/N than I realized, and that realization struck me hard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said once we were back in the car, the weight of guilt pressing down on me.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m such a klutz.” She offered a radiant smile that twisted my insides with guilt all over again.

“So, what happened?” I asked tentatively, hoping against hope that this wasn’t really my fault.

“I was carrying a rack of test tubes when that thing started shooting vapor out. I freaked out. I thought it was going to explode! So I dropped the tubes and cut my hand trying to pick them up,” she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice as she stared down at her hands.

I should have known...

“Shit…” I thumped my head against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Hey, stop.” Her hand reached up to my shoulder, a gentle gesture that only deepened my self-loathing. “You couldn’t possibly have known that thing was going to start leaking, right?” I peeked at her, guilt etched on my face. She scrutinized me, her brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the accusation hanging between us like a thick fog.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I said earnestly, trying to convey the depth of my regret, how much I hated myself for her injury.

“You’re unbelievably cruel!” she shot back, eyebrows knitting together as she glared at me.

She was right, but I felt compelled to explain. “There wasn’t any risk of you getting hurt. The door just leaks a little vapor. I was going to close it after you got scared. It was a stupid joke, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Well, excuse me for ruining your prank,” she snapped, rolling her eyes and turning away from me.

Sarcasm. Just lovely.

“I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her even though she pointedly avoided me.

“Whatever, Yoongi.” She shrugged, irritation radiating from her as she stared out the window.

I wanted to tell her she was acting like a child, but I held my tongue, knowing that teasing her wouldn’t help my case. Instead, I focused on driving, ruminating on how to make this right again.

How the hell do I fix this?

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said to Y/N, trying to sound calm even though a knot twisted in my stomach as I parked in front of the research building.

“This is really not necessary, Yoongi. I’m fine,” she replied, brushing off my concern.

“Y/N, can you please, just for once, not contradict me?” I shot back, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“I never contradict you!” she protested, eyes wide in disbelief.

I fixed her with a glare until the tension between us shifted, and a small smile broke through her pout as I climbed out of the car. Maybe I was getting through to her, even just a little.

I dashed into the lab to grab her bag, but was abruptly halted when I spotted Jimin hunched over her bench. An urge to warn Y/N about the mess brewing in the autoclave room hit me hard. 

“Jimin?” I called, feeling an unusual tension in the air as he turned to me, eyes wide like I’d just spoken an alien dialect. We rarely exchanged more than necessary pleasantries. “There’s a big mess in the autoclave room. I’ll be right back to clean it up.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” he shot back, still looking as confused as a cat in a dog park.

“There’s a bunch of glass… I don’t know. My undergrad—she dropped the tubes. I—” The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Jimin continued to stare at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Never mind,” I muttered, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“How’s that for a change? First, you have her doing your chores, and now you’re cleaning up after her,” he called after me.

I spun around to glare at him, irritation sparking. Sure, he was right, but I had bigger problems than petty lab gossip. I left him behind, shaking off the encounter.

When I climbed back into the car, Y/N was waiting for me, eyebrow raised, holding a CD case. My stomach dropped as I recognized it—my mom’s treasured Carpenters album.

“Really, Yoongi?” she asked, her smile widening. “The Carpenters? Okay, cool.” She casually tucked the CD case back into the glove box.

She was teasing me—smiling at me. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she had forgiven me after all.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her face, how her smile lit up the whole car. It was stunning; how had I never noticed it before? A pang of regret hit me for all the moments I had let slip by.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh, how’s your living situation?” I mumbled as I started the car and drove off, reminding myself to keep it together. She’s just an undergrad, I thought, shaking off the flutter in my stomach.

As I parked in front of her building, my chest tightened again. I was still angry—mostly at myself—for letting her get hurt. I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was safely tucked inside her apartment.

“Are you still dizzy?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

“I think I’m all right now,” she replied, a small grin dancing on her lips.

Would it be weird if I walked her to her door? Did guys still do that? It had been ages since I’d been on a date. What was the protocol these days?

What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t a date.

But she didn’t look a hundred percent. Maybe carrying her bag would help. I climbed out of the car, and she shot me a bewildered look as I opened her door.

“I’ll feel better once I know you’re safe inside,” I insisted, my voice firm.

“I’m fine. You don’t hav—”

“Please, humor me,” I interrupted.

Y/N hesitated, then took my hand as she stumbled out of the car. I grabbed her backpack, and we walked inside together, a strange sense of connection warming the air between us.

At her door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. When she turned to look at me, her brown eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” I said, handing her the bag.

“Yes. Tuesday.” Her gaze flickered up through her long lashes, and I was momentarily mesmerized. “Not Monday.” A playful grin crept across her face, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her eyes crinkling with delight. “You know why not Monday?”

I was still entranced by her smile and completely missed the point she was trying to make. “Because rainy days and Mondays always get me down,” she said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

Great… she’s making fun of me.

I took a deep breath and snorted, forcing myself to look away from her lips. “You’re such a dork, Y/N. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Too long.” Her giggle sent my heart racing, a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

“Good night, Y/N,” I replied, managing a smile despite my racing heart.

As I walked back to my car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and was horrified to find myself grinning like a fool. I frowned and climbed inside, but before I could drive away, I pulled my mom’s CD from the glove box, popped it in, and began to hum along.

Why do birds suddenly appear… every time… you are near?

I slammed on the brakes and hit the eject button.

Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

Thankfully, when I returned to the lab, Jimin was gone. I started cleaning up the autoclave room, picking up shards of glass and mopping away the blood from the floor. As I worked, I spotted Y/N’s lab coat next to the sink, and my heart sank. It didn’t look festive anymore; it resembled a tattered Halloween costume.

Shit… She loved that ridiculous thing, and now it was ruined.

Before I knew it, I found myself washing the lab coat. I tried everything, even bleach. When I was done, the blood stains had vanished, but so had the whimsical bacteria drawings she’d painstakingly decorated it with.

Fuck my life...

When Hoseok called, I told him the chances of me making it to Serena’s party were slim. “I’m stuck in the lab and still have a long way to go,” I said, leaving out the details of my time spent doodling on a lab coat that now looked like a toddler’s art project. I also didn’t mention that I was starting Y/N’s experiment along with my own.

After inspecting the now-ruined lab coat, I realized I couldn’t give it back to her. Tossing it felt wrong, though—I’d just spent hours on the damn thing. So, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it under my desk, trying to forget it existed.

I left the lab after two in the morning, exhausted but restless. My mind buzzed with thoughts, not about experiments this time, but about Y/N—how she had gotten hurt because of me, and yet she hadn’t unleashed her fury. Somehow, she felt bigger than this. Bigger than me.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

Images of her haunted me throughout the night. The way she smiled at my lame jokes, how she laughed at my terrible rendition of “Every Breath You Take.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sung to someone, not since my mom had forced me to sing The Carpenters with her. I turned over in bed, a smile creeping onto my face at the memory.

I didn’t have to be a jerk to Y/N anymore. I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t her fault grad school was a pain. If anything, having her around made it bearable. Maybe I could lighten up a bit… or maybe we could both learn something from this. No, I wanted to be nicer to her. I wanted to see her smile.

I want to make her smile?

First The Carpenters, now this?

When did I turn into such a marshmallow?

Monday night in the dingy gym felt like a scene straight out of a bad movie. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow that did nothing to uplift the atmosphere. Hoseok and I were at the bench press, trading off sets like two battered soldiers in a war that would never be chronicled. I stood behind him, bracing for the weight, but my gaze was pulled away, caught in the orbit of something infinitely more captivating.

There she was—Y/N—effortlessly gliding on the treadmill like she was born to run. Her ponytail swung rhythmically with each stride, a pendulum marking the time as she jogged. My breath hitched, a tightening in my chest as I let my eyes wander down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. And then—oh God—those shorts. Tiny and black, they hugged her body in a way that made my heart race uncontrollably.

The fabric didn’t just cling; it cradled her curves, indenting just enough in the middle to draw the eye downwards. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her skin, my mind spiraling into places I really didn’t want it to go.

“Dude! Hold the bar, would ya?” Hoseok’s voice jolted me from my daze. I blinked hard, shaking off the spell as I refocused on the weights pressing down on him.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, fumbling with the bar as I lifted it off him.

Hoseok wiped the sweat from his brow, the glistening drops catching the unforgiving light. I tried desperately to keep my thoughts in check, to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep onto my face, but my eyes betrayed me, fixating once more on Y/N’s ass as it bounced with every determined step on the treadmill.

“What is it?” Hoseok shot me a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew. Damn him. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Nothing,” I shot back, the word cracking like ice beneath my weight. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling more like a deer caught in headlights than a man. “That’s... um... that’s my undergrad.”

“Your undergrad?” He nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume.

“Shut up!” I hissed, heat creeping up my neck.

“She’s your undergrad?” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial, as if we were discussing some top-secret mission.

“Yes,” I said, willing myself to tear my gaze from Y/N and muster some semblance of composure. “I don’t know why she’s here. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this gym.”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok replied, incredulous. “She’s here all the time! You’ve just never noticed because you’re practically blind.”

My eyes darted back to her. She was still running, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind me. Could Hoseok really be right? Had I been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn’t seen her before?

But then again, I didn’t recognize anyone else in this place. I came here every day—every damn day—and not one face looked familiar. Blind. I was completely blind.

And yet, here I was, rooted to the spot, entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips, the way her legs flexed with each determined stride. It was as if she had cast a spell over me, one I didn’t want to break. But I had to; I was standing there like a moron, the weight of Hoseok’s gaze a smirk stretched across his face as he shifted to take his place on the bench.

“Yoongi!” he called, pulling me from my daydream. “It’s your turn.”

I shook my head as if waking up from a fog and stepped to the bench, but my mind remained tangled in thoughts of what I’d just seen. Y/N’s form, bouncing like it was teasing me, was too much. Too distracting. My body was responding in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and it took every ounce of willpower to focus on lifting weights instead of ogling her.

Then, as if she sensed my eyes on her, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world melted away—the gym, the weight, the noise—all faded into the background as our eyes met. She faltered on the treadmill, her grip tightening on the bars like a lifeline before she recovered just in time.

What was I doing? I didn’t realize I was moving until I stood beside her, the tension thick enough to slice through the air.

“Hi,” I managed, the word slipping out like a confession.

“Hi?” Her smile lit up the stale space between us, brightening everything. “Who are you and what did you do to my bitter grad student?”

“What?” I stammered, disbelief knotting my stomach. “You’ve seen me here before?”

*Her eyes rolled in a way that was both exasperating and endearing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m saying hi now. So, hi.”

“Hi…” she giggled, and I felt a low groan bubble up from my chest. What was happening? I hated how she made me feel, how she toppled everything I thought I had under control.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, grasping for something to anchor myself in this whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s fine,” she said, lifting her bandaged hand like it was a trophy. But I was lost, mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and how the sweat glistened on her skin.

I needed to leave before my body betrayed me further. “Um, I should go,” I interrupted, offering a shaky goodbye as I fled, a whirlwind of confusion and unwanted desire crashing over me.

What the hell was happening to me?

I ran home, my legs pumping, heart racing, trying to outrun the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. It had been four years since Estelle, and the memory felt as distant as a long-forgotten dream. But Y/N was everywhere now, invading my thoughts—her freckles, her laugh, those bangs that had once annoyed me but now framed her face like a masterpiece.

I stormed through my apartment, shedding my sweat-soaked clothes, bewildered by this tempest of feelings. I couldn’t fathom why it had taken me so long to notice her, why she had pierced through the fog of my indifference and settled in my mind like an unwelcome guest.

In the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, soothing yet insufficient to wash away the turmoil. She was a kid, for Christ’s sake! Nineteen? Twenty? Too young, too innocent for someone like me. I banged my head against the tiled wall, cursing my own weakness.

And yet, even as I stood there, I could feel her presence lingering, like a ghost clinging to the edges of my consciousness—a haunting I couldn’t shake. Was I becoming one of those men who pursued young girls, crossing lines drawn in the sand, sliding down that slippery slope of desire? The universe had a wicked sense of humor.

God, I hoped I wouldn’t see her again at the gym. The very thought sent a chill down my spine—a mix of longing and guilt. But there I was, fantasizing about her hands instead of my own.

When did I become such a creep?

I’m in a foul mood. Not a glimmer of sunshine inside me, just the dense fog of irritability that seems to thicken the air around me. Maybe it’s the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders, or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Either way, I know I’ll probably regret having lunch with Hoseok today, but deep down, I’m still holding onto the hope that, by some miracle, he didn’t notice my bizarre behavior at the gym last night.

As I step into the lunchroom, Hoseok’s voice slices through the stillness. “What the heck happened to you yesterday?”

Well, so much for miracles.

“Nothing. Why?” I try to sound casual as I toss my food into the microwave, but my heart races in protest.

“Nothing? You nearly killed me, bolted off to talk to Y/N, and then stormed out. That seems normal to you?” He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

I shrug, feigning indifference, but my stomach twists.

“We were supposed to have drinks with Serena and her friend with the—” he gestures dramatically, “the big personality.”

“Listen, you and Serena need to stop setting me up with her friends.”

“Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“I’m just not in the mood for this today, Hoseok.” I plop down in a chair, my food forgotten.

“Is it because of Y/N?” he asks, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food.

“No,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “And her name is Y/N, by the way.”

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is! You’re totally crushing on her!” Hoseok leaps from his chair, fork aimed at me like a weapon. His eyes widen as if he’s just uncovered a major conspiracy.

“What? NO!”

“Dude, you remembered her name!” He plops back down beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hoseok, what does that—”

“Oh man. This is too good... like, really, really good.” His grin is the kind that makes me want to punch him—or maybe just smack some sense into him.

“Hoseok, please. Just for one day…” I rub my forehead, trying to ease the confusion tightening my temples. The last thing I need is Hoseok’s theories swirling around my mind like a chaotic storm.

“Okay, okay…” He continues to chew, stealing glances at me every few seconds. “So, when’s Yoonji coming?” he asks, smirking, and I shoot him a glare that could curdle milk.

So what if I remembered her name? It hardly means anything. I’ve been working with her for weeks now. I’m not some clueless idiot; I can remember a name. I don’t care what Hoseok or Yoonji think. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does. Because Y/N, not “the girl” or “the undergrad,” is going to be in the lab when I return. And I’m not just aware of it—I’m looking forward to it. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I want to hear her giggle? Jesus, I need to get a grip on myself.

My bad mood evaporates the moment I spot Y/N at my bench, scribbling away in her notepad. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, wild and free. It should bother me—should send alarm bells ringing—but it doesn’t. It looks soft and inviting, and suddenly, all I want is to run my fingers through it.

Okay… I’ve really lost it now.

And just like that, my bad mood crashes back in.

“I can’t find my lab coat,” she says, tying her hair up with an intensity that almost makes me envious.

I feel a spark of irritation at the safety rules that dictate her hair must be tied back. I find myself imagining the kinds of experiments that would allow her to leave it down, just so I could watch it flow freely.

“Do you know where it could be?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I’ve completely lost track of her words, staring at her blankly.

“My lab coat?” she repeats, tilting her head.

Right… the lab coat.

“Let me get you a new one. That one was all covered in blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

“We have lab coats here, Y/N—new ones. I’ll get you one,” I say, moving past her, determination pushing me forward.

She stops me, grabbing my elbow. “Please, can I have my old one back?” Her eyes are wide and earnest, as if I hold the key to some sacred treasure.

A flush of embarrassment rises in me, and instead of confessing, I lie. “I threw it away.”

“What? Why?” Her gaze pierces through my flimsy excuse.

“It was covered in blood!” I bark, frustration bubbling over.

“I could have washed it!” she snaps, defiance igniting her eyes.

“I’m getting you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one. Is this some cruel joke? Because if it is, I’d really, really like my lab coat back. It means a lot to me.” The shift in her expression from anger to sadness tugs at something deep within me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, like I’ve just crushed her puppy.

Realization washes over me like a cold wave: I’m making her cry. With a deep sigh, I relent. “Okay, I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, closing her eyes in relief.

“But… I tried to wash it, and the bloodstains wouldn’t come out. I thought it would be a good idea to use bleach. And it was. I mean, it got rid of the bloodstains, but it also erased your drawings.”

“Oh no…” Her eyes fly open, panic etching her features.

“I’m sorry. Can I please get you a new one?” I plead, hoping to smooth over this disaster before it spirals further.

“I would really prefer to have my old one back,” she insists, crossing her arms defiantly, her gaze unwavering.

Jesus! Why does she have to be so difficult?

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I groan. She’s staring at me like she’s just won the lottery, and I can’t bring myself to back down. “Fine…” I reach under my desk for the bag containing her lab coat and hand it over, feeling like I’m offering her a corpse.

I should have burned the damn thing.

Her gasp as she pulls the coat from the bag makes my stomach drop.

“Oh my gosh!” She turns it around, inspecting the shapes I drew in a moment of misguided creativity. When she spots my pathetic attempt at rewriting “Bacteria Rule” on the back, she giggles, and I swear my heart stumbles.

How do I keep up with her?

One minute, she’s annoyed; the next, she’s crying; now, she’s laughing. It’s like watching a storm change directions on a whim.

“You… did you do this?” She glances up at me, her eyelashes still damp, and my chest tightens painfully.

“Yeah, it looks even more ridiculous now. Didn’t think that was possible. Would you please let me get you a new one?”

“Oh no. I’m wearing this one,” she chirps, slipping her arms into the sleeves like she’s donning a crown.

“Please say you’re kidding.”

“What? It’s perfect!” she beams, buttoning the coat closed, that radiant smile piercing through my irritation.

Even as she parades around in that god-awful coat, all I can think about is pulling her close and kissing her senseless. It’s ridiculous and utterly baffling, but I can’t shake it.

I really must have lost it now.

The morning air felt heavy, thick with a strange malaise that weighed on me like a thick blanket. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Boss?" Y/N chirped, her pen clicking in a cheerful rhythm as she flipped open her notebook, the sound almost irritatingly upbeat.

"Don’t call me Boss," I grumbled, trying to shake off the oppressive darkness that seemed to cling to me like damp fog.

"Okay, Grumpy. What are we doing today?" Her smile was a bright spark against the backdrop of my brooding mood.

I could tell she was trying to be funny, deliberately poking at my irritation. With an exasperated huff, I shoved the list of activities at her. "Try not to mess up this time, Becca."

She took the list with a theatrical pout, and I stifled a real smile beneath my carefully crafted mask of indifference—a skill I'd perfected over the years. 

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the list. "I thought I was starting from scratch."

"You are," I replied, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.

"But you did all these steps already." She pointed to the initial tasks, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I was bored Saturday," I said, as if boredom were an acceptable excuse for taking the initiative.

Her eyes darted between the list and mine, a spark of awe lighting up her face. "You started my experiment for me?"

The way she looked at me made my skin crawl—a mixture of discomfort and something warmer I didn’t want to acknowledge. I clamped down on my tongue, suppressing the urge to explain myself. 

"You better get cracking, Y/L/N. There's a seminar at four I want to attend."

Her gaze lingered on me a moment longer before she shook it off, returning to her notebook. A sense of relief washed over me. 

We worked in silence, but I could feel her stealing glances at me like a kid peeking into a haunted house. I knew—I just knew—I had crossed some invisible line. What I felt was tangled, a confusion I was desperate to untangle.

"What’s the seminar about?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity as we carried bottles of growth media to the incubators.

"I don’t know," I said, holding the door for her as we entered the incubator room.

"Then why are you going?" She squatted to stow the bottles inside, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

"Free food." I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

"Seriously?" She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her features.

"Y/N… if you go to grad school, you’ll learn to appreciate the majesty of free food."

When she stood up, she released my hand with a huff, her pride surfacing. "When I go to grad school, I’ll enjoy the seminars, even without the free food."

"Right…" I turned away, shaking my head.

"So, can I come?" she asked shyly, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the incubators.

"You want to come to the seminar?" I shot her a skeptical glance.

"Hells to the yeah!" 

I suppressed a snort, the surprise of her enthusiasm bubbling up inside me. "Why?"

"I might learn something."

"Okay, you can come, but the la-la-lab coat stays." 

The thought of her actually being excited about attending a seminar with me sent a strange thrill through my chest, one that both excited and unnerved me.

As we made our way to the seminar, Y/N rattled on about her dreams for grad school, her voice bubbling over with energy. I struggled to interject, her words flowing like a vibrant stream, full of life.

When we reached the seminar room, she shook her head at my heaping plate of food. I settled into my seat, grateful for the chance to hide from the annoyed glances of the people behind us. Y/N plopped down beside me, her nervous energy radiating from her.

"That one with the sweater vest is Prof. Waylon," I said, nodding toward him. "He has a serious case of narcolepsy. Snores through the entire talk but wakes up right on cue to ask the hardest questions."

She giggled, and the sound pierced through the fog that had settled around me.

"And over there, with the red bow tie, is Dr. Amun-Kebi. Brilliant but completely bonkers—he discovered Quorum Sensing, yet can’t make eye contact because he’s too busy staring at the ceiling."

She snorted, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth, her joy infectious.

"Then there’s Jin," I continued, "who dresses like he’s going to a board meeting every day. Knows more adjectives than a thesaurus, but his favorite is definitely 'fascinating.'"

I mimicked Jin’s exaggerated tone, and Y/N laughed again, drawing some disapproving throat-clearing from the folks behind us.

"Main point is, Y/N," I said, "science makes you lose your mind. You’ve been warned."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," she replied, winking at me, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

As the speaker began, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed her furiously scribbling notes as if her life depended on it.

Once the seminar ended, we returned to the lab. Y/N still had work to catch up on after being away for an hour. I’d finished my tasks long ago, but I lingered, a shadow in the corner, unwilling to leave her alone in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space.

She closed her notebook with a satisfying smack and turned to me, her eyes bright. "This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see if it works this time."

"Yeah, you’ll get over it," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Have you always been such a grump? Or was there a time when you actually liked what you do?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut, catching me off guard. I could feel her gaze piercing through my defenses.

"I like what I do."

"Do you love it?"

Her question hung in the air like a dark cloud, and I found myself lost in a maze of memories, the joy of discovery overshadowed by the weight of expectations. Had there ever been a time when I shared her enthusiasm?

"I don’t really remember," I mumbled, avoiding the truth. "It’s getting late, Y/N. How are you getting home?"

"I’m walking."

"I’m walking too. Let’s go."

Did I used to love what I did? The memory felt elusive, slipping through my fingers like water.

As we walked, Y/N asked, "Why did you decide to go to grad school?"

"Why does anyone?" I shot back, a cryptic smirk teasing my lips.

"To make a difference? To revolutionize the field?"

"Very cute, Y/N."

"It’s not cute. It’s true."

"Is that why you want to go to grad school?"

"Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people. Since medical school is out of the question for me—"

"You’ll get over the smell of blood, Y/N."

"It’s not just that. I get too attached. I’d rather contribute silently from the lab." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Plus, where would medicine be without science? They’d still be pouring hot oil into wounds!"

I chuckled, a genuine laugh bubbling up like warmth breaking through winter’s chill. "You’re funny." The words slipped out before I could think better of it, and before I could process my thoughts, my fingers brushed against her arm, lingering over the fabric of her hoodie.

She halted, her cheeks tinged pink, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I froze, my hand dropping to my side, panic racing through me. That had to be inappropriate.

"I’ve been called worse," she joked, her smile radiating a warmth that sent shivers down my spine.

We walked on in silence until we reached her building.

"Do you live on campus too?" she asked, fishing for her keys from her bag.

"No. I live in Portage Bay."

"Oh… we passed that already."

"I know."

Suspicion flared in her gaze as she pieced things together, and I felt the weight of my own guilt creeping up on me. She would realize I was that gross old grad student trying to woo the sweet, naive undergrad—the very person I had mocked in others. The thought made my stomach churn.

"I know what you’re doing," she accused, crossing her arms defensively.

Here it comes…

"You feel guilty because I got hurt," she said, her voice steady. "You feel responsible. But you don’t have to do this."

Is that really what she thought?

"You think I’m walking you home out of guilt?" My voice was harsher than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

"I know you are."

"You don’t know anything," I spat, turning away, desperate to escape the rising tide of emotions threatening to drown me.

"Yoongi, wait!" she called after me, dread washing over me.

Keep walking… don’t look back.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was being nice out of guilt. I had done nothing but act like a jerk for too long, and now I was about to lose the only flicker of light stupid, lonely world.

God, she had no clue.

Wednesday morning felt heavy with an unsettling quiet when Y/N arrived at the lab a little earlier than usual. I was already there, lurking like a shadow in the corner, unable to shake off the ghosts of a sleepless night. I busied myself with the equipment, clinging to the hope that keeping my distance would somehow quell the anger simmering beneath my skin.

It was confusing, really. I was furious with her—not just because of the injury that haunted my thoughts like a ghost, but because she had twisted my kindness into something it wasn’t. Sure, I felt like a hollow shell, the guilt gnawing at my insides like a rat in a rotting wall, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy walking her home. Yesterday’s seminar had been a strange kind of fun—the first I’d experienced in what felt like ages.

As I returned to the lab, pretending to check something in my desk drawer, I caught her gaze from across the bench. The way her eyes followed me stirred something deep inside, a mix of frustration and longing I couldn’t quite place. I tried to slip away, but as I turned to leave, her fingers brushed against my elbow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, those puppy-dog eyes piercing through my defenses. Warmth rushed through me, a strange blend of emotions swirling inside. “It was really nice of you to walk with me. Thank you.”

With a timid smile, she released my arm, leaving me reeling, torn between the urge to pull her back and the need to retreat. Just then, I caught sight of Jimin, his piercing blue eyes wide with suspicion from the shadows of the lab. What the hell?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly to Y/N, my voice almost a growl, before storming away, seeking refuge from the chaos in my head.

In the media preparation room, I paced like a caged animal, cracking my knuckles repeatedly to chase away the madness. This was absurd. I was losing it over a girl—an undergrad—who seemed blissfully unaware of the tempest she stirred within me. Deep breaths. Focus. But I knew this strange obsession wasn’t going anywhere.

When I returned to the lab, I found Jungkook leaning casually against my bench, chatting with Y/N. She wore that timid smile again, twisting something inside me. My hands curled into fists, rage and jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin as he sauntered past me. Did he just ask her out? The urge to grab him by the ponytail and shove him to the floor was overwhelming. “What did he want?” I spat, unable to contain the fury boiling within.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, her attention flitting back to her notebook as if she hadn’t just tossed gasoline on my fire.

“Y/N,” I hissed, slicing through the air with my words, demanding her attention. “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,” she clarified, but her eyes locked onto mine, searching. My resolve wavered. What the hell was wrong with me? The desire to pummel Jungkook quickly transformed into an intense longing to press my lips against that bottom lip she kept biting. The confusion swirled around us, thick and suffocating, and I felt trapped.

Just then, Jimin reentered the lab, breaking the spell that had ensnared us. I stepped back, the tension snapping like a brittle twig, and Y/N sighed, disappointment heavy in the air.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice cold, each word laced with the weight of my internal turmoil. “I need to use the bench.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes before she masked it, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. I tried to focus on my work, but her presence lingered, a distraction gnawing at my concentration until she finally left for the day. This is ridiculous! Why did she affect me so much? I couldn’t keep living like this.

Thursday afternoon arrived, and I maneuvered around Y/N like a ghost. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but the thought of her and Jungkook had me seething. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire, irritation coiling tighter with every passing second. I tried to stick to succinct answers and instructions, but the tension thickened around us like fog.

As we received her sequencing results, I could no longer pretend she didn’t exist. She pulled a chair next to me at my desk, her presence suffocatingly close. My fingers twitched on the mouse, nerves sparking as I avoided glancing her way. She tapped her pen rhythmically; each tap a countdown to my sanity.

“Please, stop that,” I groaned, frustration spilling over.

She halted instantly, a sigh escaping her lips, and my heart sank. I hated feeling this way—trapped between annoyance and an attraction that sent shivers down my spine. How was that even possible?

Finally, the software loaded, and I opened her file. Y/N gasped, and I held my breath as she leaned closer, the tension between us palpable.

“Sample 1. Ran well. Sample 2. Ran well… ran well, ran well, ran well…” All fifty samples had run flawlessly. Impressive. I couldn’t recall a time when every single sequencing reaction had succeeded; there was always a failure or two. Y/N was undeniably skilled.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck. Her warmth enveloped me, her hair brushing against my face, and the world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. My body responded in ways I couldn’t understand.

I shot up from my chair, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks a deep crimson, laughter spilling from her lips. “I’m just so happy! They all worked!”

My heart raced, shock coursing through me as I struggled to regain composure. The pull I felt toward her was almost unbearable, thrumming like an electric wire, demanding release.

“Good job,” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady. But as she smiled at me, her joy tearing through my carefully constructed barriers, I knew I was in deep trouble. I wanted to hold her again, to kiss her until the world faded away. God, I needed help.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck, her warmth enveloping me, her hair brushing against my face. The world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating, my body responding in ways I couldn’t understand. 

God, I needed help.

You know those days when nothing seems to go right? When you drag yourself out of bed, and it feels like the universe is playing tricks on you, pushing you back with every step forward? Yeah, today is one of those days. A downright miserable Friday, and I can’t help but feel that the promise of the weekend is just a hollow consolation.

This morning was a disaster. I tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of Y/N. Her smile flickered in my mind like a candle caught in the wind—warm and inviting one moment, then snuffed out the next. The irony is, while I’m relieved I won’t have to face her today, the gnawing uncertainty of whether she’s out with Jungkook weighs heavily in my stomach. Anger simmers beneath my skin, bubbling over in waves I can’t seem to control.

As I step into the lunchroom, the emptiness greets me, broken only by the taunting hum of the microwave. I slam my fist against its cold metal side, frustrated when it refuses to cooperate. It beeps at me, a cruel mockery in the sterile silence. I slam the door shut again, and my temper flares.

“What did the microwave do to you?” A familiar voice cuts through my frustration. It’s Hoseok, ever the jester, his amusement practically radiating off him.

“It’s broken,” I mutter, fingers still mashing buttons like a madman.

“Step away from the microwave,” he orders, a playful yet firm tone in his voice. In two quick moves, he’s heating up my food. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing,” I groan, flopping down in a chair with a defeated sigh. “Just one of those days.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just one of those days…” I can’t muster the energy to say more.

“Like, ‘Everything’s messed up and everyone sucks’?” He turns his baseball cap backward, bobbing his head as if ready to launch into a nu-metal anthem.

“Great, Hoseok. Quote Limp Bizkit. That’s really going to help.” I cut him off before he can get into full swing.

“Dude, you’re in a mood. What happened?” His eyes reflect genuine concern as he rummages through the fridge.

“Nothing,” I insist, rising to retrieve my Tupperware.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for four years. This isn’t just a failed PCR kind of mood.” He crosses his arms, blocking my path.

Part of me wants to spill my guts, but the words feel lodged in my throat. Still, they tumble out. “If I tell you, can you at least try to be mature about it?”

“Mature is my middle name,” he grins, but I can’t help but scowl.

“Fine. It’s Y/N.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of his excitement pressing down on me. “What happened?” he whispers, leaning in, all ears.

“She’s... I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, she’s out with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Hoseok’s voice rises as if he’s just spotted a raccoon in the hall.

“Jesus, Hoseok!” I hiss. “Keep it down!”

“Sorry.” His whisper is tinged with amusement. “Jungkook fucking Jeon?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling over. “And she’s my undergrad.”

“Puh-lease. Who cares?” 

“I’m at least five years older than her,” I retort.

“The younger, the better.” He waggles his eyebrows, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Disgusting.”

“Stop brooding, dude. Jeon’s got nothing on you. Go get your girl. She’s fine, and she was always checking you out at the gym—like I told you a thousand times.”

Y/N checking me out? No way. Hoseok’s just being delusional. I shake my head, dismissing his words. This fixation has to end. She’s just my undergrad. That’s all she’ll ever be—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Happy Hour. The name is ironic, a pathetic excuse for mingling—if you can even call it that. It never lasts an hour, and “happy” is a stretch, but hey, there’s free beer, so here I am. Alone in the corner, I down red cups like they might wash away the grime of the day. By the time Hoseok and Serena finally stroll in, I’ve polished off four.

“You’re here before us. That’s weird,” Serena quips as they approach.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious.” 

“What’s his problem?” Serena glares at Hoseok, arms crossed.

“He’s in a mood,” Hoseok replies, handing me another red cup that I chug.

“Why?” Her tone is whiny, as if I owe her an explanation.

“Lady problems,” Hoseok shoots back before I can stop him.

“Yoongi has lady problems?” Serena sounds incredulous, as if she’s just discovered a new planet.

“I’m standing right here!” My voice is louder than I intended, laced with irritation.

“So you like a girl, Yoongi. Not the end of the world. I mean, this self-imposed celibacy was bound to end someday. I just wish I knew who she is.” She twists the conversation back to herself, as always.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s his undergrad,” Hoseok interjects, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

“You old perv!” Serena playfully smacks my chest, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I’m going to get fired,” I murmur, tipping my cup back for the last drops of liquid courage.

“No, you won’t, drama queen.” She dismisses me with a wave, annoyance radiating off her.

“It happens all the time! PIs hit on post-docs, post-docs on grad students, grads on undergrads. What world do you live in?”

“It’s like a jungle,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Shut up, Hoseok,” Serena snaps. “Good news is, now that there’s this girl, you can stop with the emo bitterness. It’s getting old.”

“Fuck you, Serena.”

“Hey, hey now,” Hoseok says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get another round.”

When we return, my anger toward Serena simmers just beneath the surface, but I’m too tipsy to think straight. “For your information, Serena, this girl has a name. Her name is Becca. No, wait... it’s Y/N! Dammit!” My palm meets my forehead in a facepalm of pure embarrassment.

“Wow. She must be something special, Yoongi. You don’t even know her name.”

“Baby, stop. He’s drunk, and he’s having a shitty day.”

“Why?” 

“Y/N is out with Jungkook,” Hoseok explains.

“Jeon?” Serena’s expression shifts to one of shock, and they dive into speculation, completely oblivious to my presence.

I shut them out, groaning into my cup as I gulp it down. It’s true. I know it. Jungkook is with Y/N tonight, probably taking her to dinner and drinks, sharing laughs while I’m stuck here. My mind spirals into a dark abyss—what if he kisses her? What if she invites him in? God, I’m sick just thinking about it.

Of all the undergrads in this department, Jungkook Jeon had to go after mine. I hope Y/N gets drunk and spills her drink all over him.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

Well, maybe not the worst, but it’s definitely up there. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my stomach feels like a chaotic whirlpool of regret as I stumble into the shower. The hot water cascades over me, a fleeting relief, but all I can think about is how tempting sleep sounds right now. But I have things to do in the lab. Don’t I always?

The apartment is a total disaster zone—a messy tribute to last night’s antics. Red cups are scattered across the coffee table like the remnants of a forgotten battle, and chip crumbs litter the floor like confetti from a party that had long overstayed its welcome. Hoseok and Serena wouldn’t leave me alone last night, terrified I’d do something reckless, so we ended up bringing Happy Hour back to my place. I was just the third wheel, watching them get lost in their own world of laughter and flirting. By the time I woke up on the couch, blanketed by a pile of crumpled chips, they were long gone.

I shuffle into the library, desperate for my usual caffeine fix on the way to the lab, but my stomach is rebelling. Still, I know I’ll need that coffee to survive the day.

Inside, the library feels like a claustrophobic hive of undergrads buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees. It’s overwhelming.

What a nightmare!

I hurry to the coffee line, pouring sugar into my mug like it’s a lifeline. Just as I catch my breath, I spot her—Y/N—sitting at a table surrounded by a fortress of books. Her hair falls like a curtain, hiding her face from view. I can’t help myself; I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

“Hello, Y/N,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her features, and for a moment, my heart races. 

“Oh, so I’m back to being Y/N?” There’s no hint of humor in her voice, only seriousness, and it feels like a punch to the gut.

What’s going on? Where’s the smile that usually lights up her face?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light as I settle in.

“What are you doing here?” she replies, her gaze cool and collected.

“Y/N, please go easy on me today. I’m not feeling great,” I admit, running a hand down my face, feeling every ache from the night before.

“Oh... what’s wrong?” Her stoic facade starts to crumble, replaced by genuine concern, and it warms me a bit.

“Too much beer,” I confess, and the word makes my stomach churn at the memory of my poor choices.

“I see... does that explain this?” She pulls out her phone and turns it toward me.

Grumpy: Becca, you’ve just revealed yourself to have absolutely no taste.

“Who the hell is Grumpy, and why does he call you Becca?” I blurt out, anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re the only Grumpy I know.”

“Are you saying I sent you that text?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing as her eyes drift away like leaves in the wind.

I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart sinking as I check my sent texts.

Well, great…

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes, wishing I could take back last night’s mistakes.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean either. No taste in what? Music? Food? Men?” 

“Men?” I let out a dry laugh. “Jungkook is not a man. He’s a tool.”

“So this is about Jungkook?” she says, gesturing to her phone.

“Yes.” My brain feels sluggish, like I’m moving through molasses.

“Why do you care?” 

“I’m uncomfortable with you dating my classmate,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to appear nonchalant.

“He’s not your classmate, and we’re not dating.”

“We both started our PhDs at the same time in the same program. That makes him my classmate… Wait… you’re not dating?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We went out for coffee, talked, he asked me out again, and I kindly declined. I’m focused on my studies right now, Yoongi, and I really don’t have room for anything more.”

“Oh…” Relief floods through me, even as my hangover rages on. I might even be smiling.

“Yes, oh indeed. Which brings me back to why you’re sitting here distracting me from my study session.”

“What are you studying?” I ask softly, a smile creeping onto my face, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jungkook.

“I have an organic chemistry exam on Monday.”

“Oh, I see…” I hesitate, but the temptation of spending time with her outweighs my growing pile of work in the lab. “Well, it might just be your lucky day, Y/L/N, because I happen to be an expert in all things organic chemistry.”

“You are?” Her lips curl into a small grin, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. She’s back.

“I am…” I smile at her. “So, do you want some help?”

“I could use some help.”

Help… yeah… that’s what I’m here for… help.

For the next two hours, I guide Y/N through her organic reaction problem sets, all while ignoring my cooling coffee. She’s a quick study, soaking up the information, and I’m confident she’ll ace her test on Monday.

I keep my hands clasped between my knees—except when I need to draw reactions for her—wanting to hide how my fingers twitch every time she brushes her hair behind her ear.

Y/N is focused on her notebook, but the third time I yawn, she looks up at me.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Tell me about it… On average, I get about four hours a night.”

“Four hours? If I don’t get at least six, I get grumpy.”

“Grumpier than this?” she says, waving a hand at me, a smile teasing at her lips.

“This,” I gesture to my chest, “this is the five-hours-of-sleep me.” I stretch, feeling my muscles pull, and I notice her eyes trace down my torso before I quickly pull my shirt down.

Was Y/N checking me out?

“Anyway…” I scramble for a distraction. “It’s healthy to sleep eight hours. I’m all about being healthy.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an old man.”

“Hey… I’m only twenty-five!”

She laughs, and before I can ask how old she is, her gaze shifts behind me, and I can sense her tension.

“Shit…” she whispers.

“What?”

“Remember that guy I told you about, Jonah Rodgers, the stalker?” Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with panic.

I wrack my brain, trying to recall. Y/N had a stalker? She looks at me, and it’s clear she knows I’m lost.

“Just play along, please,” she whispers, scooting her chair closer to me. Her hand brushes my knee, and I’m startled by the tentative touch.

A vague memory flickers in my mind—her acting strange around me one day, but it’s obscured by the haze of regret and longing.

Y/N’s gaze is intense, making it hard to focus on anything else. She smiles shyly, then looks down before peeking at me through her thick lashes.

God, what is she doing to me?

I know she’s faking it, pretending for someone else—but I can’t help how my body reacts, how hyper-aware I am of her presence. My hand moves to her cheek, my thumb tracing her soft skin. She blushes, biting her lip, and it sends a jolt through me, a deep ache to pull her closer—bring her lips to mine.

Her hand slides from my knee, brushing my thigh, and I can feel a warmth stirring inside me.

This isn’t real… it can’t be.

She’s still staring at me, and I’m lost in her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking, if she feels it too.

But then, all too soon, her attention darts behind me again.

“He’s gone,” she breathes, relief washing over her. Her hand rubs my thigh one last time before she withdraws. “Thank you.”

I know I should let go, but I can’t. My hand remains on her face, my thumb tracing her cheek while my fingers tangle in the nape of her neck. Her expression shifts, confusion knitting her brow. She reaches for my hand, her fingers enveloping my wrist—her thumb brushing the top of my hand, once, twice—and then she smiles.

But she’s not looking at me seductively anymore. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand why I haven’t let go. And honestly? Neither do I.

I drop my hand from her face and stand abruptly.

“I better get to the lab,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Good luck on your test.” Her eyes linger on me, confusion clouding her expression as I turn to leave.

I guess the show is over…

I spent the rest of the weekend in the lab, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It felt easier to throw myself into my work than to face the nagging thoughts of Y/N swirling around in my head. Pining after her felt wrong—she was just a kid, my intern, and whatever was brewing inside me needed to stop. I had to keep my distance.

When Y/N walked in on Tuesday, she looked a bit worn out. I wanted to ask her about the test, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself to act indifferent.

As the day wound down, she asked for my help, and I followed her into the dark room. She needed to cut different bands from an agarose gel to purify the DNA. Even though she knew how to use the UV light box, I guided her through the excising process.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Y/N flipped on the UV box and switched off the lights. I stood behind her, watching as her shaky hand hovered nervously over the gel, clutching the blade. 

"I think it’s safe to say that not going to medical school was the right choice for you," I teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension. "With those shaky hands, I wouldn't want you holding a scalpel near me."

"I had too much coffee today," she shot back, her tone sharp but playful.

"Right," I snorted, a grin breaking free.

"Shut up. You're making me nervous." I could almost hear her smile through her words.

"Here," I said, inching closer. I covered her hand with mine, steadying her fingers over the blade. "Relax," I suggested, hoping it would ease both our nerves.

Her proximity felt electric, as if the air around us vibrated with tension. The scent of her hair—fresh and unplaceable—danced under my nose, making my heart race. Y/N's hand trembled beneath mine as she turned to glance up at me. In the faint blue glow of the UV light, her features looked even more striking. 

"This is making it worse," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt her warm breath against my neck, and everything inside me screamed that we were too close. I should step back. I needed to step back. But God, I wanted to kiss her. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her bewildered expression shifted as her eyes drifted from my gaze to my lips. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her tongue trace the edge of her bottom lip before she began to nibble on it nervously.

Then, without thinking, I closed the distance and pressed my lips against hers.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, intoxicated by her sweet scent as my mouth enveloped her bottom lip. Y/N whimpered softly against me, turning her body to face mine. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

What was I doing?

I felt lost, unsure of how to proceed or how to stop. Reluctantly, I released her neck and gripped the bench for support, struggling against the rising tide of desire. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and pull her onto the counter, to lose myself in her warmth.

No, stop! This is wrong!

I broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Y/N…" I gasped. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I stepped back, needing space. She was breathing hard too. "I-I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have… Shit." My hands raked through my hair, searching for words that eluded me.

Then, with a single determined step, Y/N closed the distance. She grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down to her level. Her lips collided with mine once more, and I felt her inhale sharply.

I was too tall, or she was too short; either way, I hunched over her as her legs wrapped around my hips, lifting her onto the countertop beside the UV box.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging in a way that made me groan into her mouth, while my own hands hovered uncertainly over her body, torn between desire and restraint.

Loud, insistent knocking on the door shattered the moment.

Y/N gasped, and her legs slipped from my sides. 

"I need to look at a gel, Yoongi. What’s taking so long?" Jimin's voice rang out.

Jimin… shit…

I groaned against Y/N's shoulder, gripping her thighs to steady myself. Her fingers remained tangled in my hair, and I felt dangerously close to losing it.

"We're cutting a gel, Jimin," I called out, taking a reluctant step away from Y/N. "Give me a fucking break," I muttered under my breath.

I heard Jimin huff through the door, and Y/N’s voice came low and tense. "What do we do?"

I didn't know about her, but I needed to get out of there. I was uncomfortable and desperately needed to regain control. I moved to the UV box, which was still glowing. Y/N jumped down from the bench as I grabbed the blade, cutting around the bands on the gel. I found it ironic that my hands were now shaking, yet I managed to do a decent job.

Once finished, I shut off the UV light and flicked the room lights back on. Y/N jumped a little, and though I was sure she was staring at me, I couldn’t meet her gaze—I wouldn’t.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Take each piece of gel and put it in a single epi tube," I instructed, forcing myself to focus on anything but her. "You can follow the rest of the protocol at the bench."

"Yoongi," she whispered, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll be back in a bit," I said, my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t risk a glance at her, fearing that a single look would draw me back in. I opened the door and stormed out, nearly colliding with Jimin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

What the hell just happened?

A few moments later, I was outside the building. Rain hammered down, but I didn’t care. I wished I smoked, drank, or had any vice to help me calm down. I tried deep breaths to steady myself, but the rain only added to the chaos swirling inside me. I made it to the tree line behind the parking lot, leaning against a trunk with one hand while the other pressed against my chest, where my heart threatened to pound its way out. I was panting, sweating, and completely unraveling.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Well, clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

God, I could still taste her on my lips.

I swallowed hard.

Y/N had the sweetest lips I’d ever kissed.

I was doomed.

This could ruin everything. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by Y/N like this. I had lost all control, and I didn’t know what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t knocked. Or worse, what if Y/N had opened the door without knocking? Thank God the light was off, and the “IN USE” sign was outside.

No one could know about this, especially not Jimin—he was Jin’s puppy! If Jin ever found out…

God, this was all so messed up!

I had to make it clear to Y/N—this had to stay between us. We had to pretend it never happened.

It would never happen again.

I could never have my lips on hers again—just the thought of it made my chest ache.

I had known kissing her would be good. She had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen. They didn’t disappoint. Her kiss exceeded any expectation I had dared to dream. How could I endure not kissing her again, knowing how sweet she tasted?

If I thought it was torture to be around her before, now it was going to be hell.

And she had kissed me back. She had. It wasn’t just me. She wanted this too. Didn’t she know it was wrong? I needed to talk to her, to explain that this couldn’t happen again. We had to keep things professional, to work together without awkwardness. We had to manage that. I needed to manage that.

I wouldn’t look at her lips, or her smile, if that’s what it took. Maybe I could lie and say we needed to wear mouth masks for the rest of the project…

With a groan, I stepped away from the tree. I fisted my hair, realizing I was getting drenched, and walked back into the building. I shook my head to rid myself of some of the water, but I was still soaked when I climbed the stairs.

When I entered the lab, Y/N pretended not to see me, but I knew better. Her posture shifted, her back straightened, and the foot she had been tapping on the floor stilled.

I noticed Jimin was in the lab, standing at his bench across from Y/N, staring at her. It became clear to me that Y/N was putting on a show for him.

I sighed, feeling a little relief wash over me.

Y/N wouldn’t tell anyone—at least that much was clear.

But I still needed to talk to her. What happened was wrong and completely inappropriate. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea.

I buried myself in my computer for a while, pretending to work by aimlessly scrolling and clicking, but my attention was entirely on Y/N. She seemed to move through the purification protocol without a hitch. What was going through her head?

Y/N strolled into the lab on Thursday, her smile cutting through the sterile, fluorescent gloom like a ray of sunlight. I gave her a nod—polite, detached—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing at the flicker of warmth in her gaze. As I turned back to my work, she let out a sigh that lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing at Jimin's empty bench, and the reminder of his absence hung like a storm cloud between us. 

"Okay," she began, hands planted defiantly on her hips. "Should we talk about this?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, focusing on those deep, captivating eyes while battling the temptation to let my gaze wander to her lips, which seemed to whisper promises that drove me mad with longing. 

"There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N."

"Well, are you going to go back to being mean to me?" 

"I was never mean to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and heat crept into my cheeks as I remembered all the stunts I’d pulled—the pranks that had hurt her, the lab coat I’d ruined...

"I won't be mean to you again," I muttered, letting out a heavy sigh and looking at the floor.

"Yoongi..." Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and it tugged at my heart. 

When I met her gaze again, it was a mistake—her lip caught between her teeth was a distraction I didn’t need. My hands clenched into fists, seeking refuge in my pockets as her eyes searched mine, wary but hopeful, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It won't be awkward, all right? I promise."

That smile of hers struck me like a bolt of lightning, forcing a groan deep within my chest. I could see the words dancing on her lips, ready to spill out, but they vanished like smoke when Jimin walked back into the lab. Taking advantage of the reprieve, I buried myself in my work, fighting to act normal.

But normalcy felt like a distant memory whenever Y/N was near. She moved through the lab with quiet grace, while I stood like a rock in a river of uncertainty, drowning in my thoughts.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, I noticed her gathering her things. Instinct kicked in—I pretended to be engrossed in my computer, watching her shuffle and fidget until she finally took a step toward me.

"Hey, Yoongi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" I turned to face her, masking the turmoil inside.

"Um, I was wondering... I know I’m just an undergrad here, and there’s really no room for me to... I-I mean, I know it’s really not my place to ask, but..." Her words faltered, and the crimson blush creeping up her cheeks sent my heart racing.

"Y/N, would you get on with it? I don’t have all day." My frustration boiled over, the energy it took to be normal around her fraying my patience.

Her frown was instant, a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes. 

Shit, that was uncalled for...

"Never mind…" she sighed, disappointment echoing in the air.

"Wait." I took a breath, willing myself to soften. "I’m sorry. Please, Y/N, tell me."

She sighed again, a deep, resigned breath. "I know there’s that recruitment party this Saturday. It’s for prospective students to meet the current students in the department. And I know, I’m just the undergrad, but I think it would be great if I could meet them. You know? Hopefully, in a year, I’ll be going through recruitment myself." Her fingers twisted anxiously in front of her, a sight that both amused and strained my patience.

"Is there a question you wanted to ask?" I barked, the irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Yes…" she snapped back, indignation rising. "My question is: do you mind if I’m there?" She crossed her arms, defiance written all over her.

Why would I care if she came? I hadn’t even planned on attending that stupid party. But suddenly, the thought twisted in my gut, a knot tightening as a realization hit me.

I shot up from my chair, startling her. "Who told you about the party?"

Her eyes dropped, a sigh escaping her lips, and just like that, the truth hit me like a freight train. I fucking knew it.

"You’re going with Jungkook, aren’t you?" I took a step closer, looming over her.

"No, I’m not going with Jungkook." Her voice was steady, but her gaze flickered to meet mine. "But I’m going."

"Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile that graced her lips made my stomach twist. She turned to leave, and I felt something unravel within me—my hands instinctively reached out, fingers curling into frustrated fists. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle her or pull her into a desperate embrace. All I knew was that I was left staring helplessly as she walked away.

I didn’t need her to say it; I knew Jungkook was behind this. She might not be going with him, but the thought of him lurking at that party made my blood boil. For the first time in a long while, I felt the gnawing sensation of jealousy eat away at my insides.

Fucking Jungkook Jeon.

I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.

Why did it matter if Y/N went to the recruitment party? It shouldn’t. Yet here I was, battling an angry tide rising in my chest, all because of that idiot Jungkook. If she were going with someone more acceptable—someone who didn’t make my skin crawl—I’d be okay with it. I should be okay with it. The rational part of my brain knew that, but the irritation overshadowed everything else.

What did she even see in Jungkook? The guy barely scraped by on his Qual after taking it twice and hadn’t published a single paper. He was working with fruit flies for crying out loud! And his personality? A brick wall. I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him.

I had to go to this party.

At lunch, against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up with Hoseok. 

"Hey, where’s the recruitment party this year?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I stabbed my fork into the mac and cheese.

"You’re going to the recruitment party?" Hoseok dropped his fork, suspicion etched across his face like a roadmap to his thoughts.

"Yes," I groaned, already regretting bringing it up. Of course, he’d make a fuss.

"To our department’s recruitment party?" He pressed a finger to his chest as if I’d committed a heinous crime.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged, pushing the macaroni around in my bowl.

"Let me think… maybe because I’ve organized every single one since I got here, and you’ve never attended."

"Will you just answer my question?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"It’s at the South Campus Center, bro." Even though he finally answered, his gaze lingered, scrutinizing me like I was a specimen under his microscope.

"Great, thanks." I tried to keep my tone light, rolling my eyes at his obvious scrutiny.

"I can’t believe you’re going." A knowing smile danced at the corners of his lips, and I loathed it.

I pretended not to care, shrugging off the comment as he took a seat next to me. 

"If only I had known all it would take was an undergrad to get through you."

"This has nothing to do with Y/N," I spat, defensiveness creeping in, my irritation sharpening with each word. Her name was Y/N, not ‘the undergrad.’

"Right, so it’s just a coincidence… this is just the year you happen to decide to attend this thing."

"Yes."

"Is she going?" His eyebrow arched, mischief glinting in his eyes.

I groaned and turned away, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

"Dude, I can see it. How she’s affected you. It’s kind of obvious. You can talk to me, you know? It might help."

The breath I took was deep and shaky, every nerve ending igniting with frustration. But before I could stop myself, the words came pouring out. "She drives me crazy, Hoseok. I can’t stand it. I lose all control when I’m around her. I kissed her… I kissed her, and she said she doesn’t want to jeopardize her work in the lab. And it makes sense for her to think that. But the worst part is now I can’t stop seeing her everywhere. She’s in the lab, at the gym, at the freaking library where I get my coffee—she’s everywhere! I need to go back to not seeing her, because I can’t handle this." I stared down at my lunch, the food suddenly unappetizing, a lifeless pile of carbs.

"So you don’t want to see her?" Hoseok asked, surprisingly calm, like he was dissecting a specimen on his lab bench.

"Exactly."

"You don’t want to kiss her again?" He pushed, an amused grin creeping across his face.

"I don’t know what I want!" I barked, irritation flaring.

"Sounds to me like you want to go to the party, see her, and kiss her again. The question is, how are you going to deal with Jungkook?"

My shoulders tightened at the mention of his name, a cold shiver running down my spine. "I don’t care about him."

"I don’t know, man. It’s weird. The vibes are strange. You’re talking about her with a lot of… emotion."

"Emotion?" I snapped, but deep down, I felt the truth behind his words. I was at the mercy of my own feelings, a trembling wreck in the face of Y/N’s smile. I hated it. I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t afford to feel anything.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back into my chair, wishing to be swallowed by it.

"You’re going to have to confront those feelings eventually, Yoongi."

I grunted in response, refusing to admit he was right. I didn’t want to think about Y/N, and I definitely didn’t want to deal with Jungkook. All I wanted was to escape this mess, but deep down, I knew I was already trapped.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[eleni-cherie]

"among thieves" is finally finished! 🥳

i mean, it already was finished last year but the revision and anew editing is now finished as well !!!

hope you enjoy it, whether it's your first time reading it or your second 😊

💜check out the whole "thieves collection" series or my main bts masterlist for other members' stories in this universe or in general💜

[theillustratedwriter]

MASTERLIST

Sunlit Moonrise | Daechwita Min Yoongi/Agust D x OC (Royalty/Fantasy AU)

Chapter 1: The Country of Patrinis and its Five Kingdoms

Chapter 2: The Fabled Five

Chapter 3: The Parish of Patrinis

Chapter 4: Goddess of the Land

Chapter 5: Coimeach Pass

Chapter 6: A Masquerade of Mercy

Chapter 7: The Dowager Vixen

Chapter 8: Swords and Skirts

Chapter 9: The Fox, The Owl and The Rat

Chapter 10: The Den of Vulstis Pas

Chapter 11: As The Snow Leopard Prowls

Chapter 12: Coming soon...

-

❝I am the Sun, and you are the Moon; if one of us rises, the other must fall.❞

The Country of Patrinis and its Five Kingdoms look peaceful enough from the outside. However, when King Min Yoongi of Vulstis is led to believe King Caylus Sampson and his daughter, Aine, of the neighbouring kingdom, Nocriam, are the cause of all his problems, conflict ensues. The Sampson family already have a history with the cold King of Vulstis, so this only makes Aine despise the man even more. As Nocriam and Vulstis continue to battle one another while the other kingdoms watch on in opted neutrality, Aine realises that King Min is not the embodiment of evil she once believed him to be. She and King Min are both victims of deceit and are just puppets in a grand scheme to cause Patrinis's downfall. They must work together to find out who is pulling their strings before the country falls into ruin.

-

A fantasy story set in a fictional universe featuring the BTS members and many original characters. While this story does use the names and faces of BTS members, it in no way reflects them as real people- their characters in this story are very different to how they are in reality. If you can't distinguish reality from fiction, then please do not read this book. This is NOT a reader insert.

This story is also published on AO3, Wattpad, Inkitt & Royal Road.

[taehoneys]

BAD GUY | EIGHT

+ Jungkook and you both have a secret that could end your relationship.

— Summary: A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

— Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

— Genre: Drama

— AU(s): College!AU Fratboy!AU 

— Warnings: Fingering, Oral, choking, all kinds of sex, okay? Oh, and sometimes it’s unprotected. Breeding kink (?)

— Chapter Word Count: 4K

— Chapter Note: I am updating this with one eye open, and burning up with a lack-of-sleep fever. I wasn't going to let you guys down anymore!!

PLAYLIST ♪ | MASTERLIST | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

How many times have Jungkook and you crossed paths, unknown to you both?

Once?

On the first day of class, when you two were figuring out the campus layout. Both too busy looking down at your phones to apologize when you bumped shoulders.

Twice?

When you boarded the city bus after class and sat across from him. It was a 15-minute ride into the city. Jungkook entertained himself by watching you play with your loose-knit sweater holes.

Thrice?

At midnight, when the donut shop in the student atrium was the only thing open. Jungkook, Taehyung, Zelo, and Hoseok were crowding by the register, too busy laughing about who knows what. You and Juli brushed past, donuts and 5 lectures of statistics crammed into your mind.

Jungkook would argue that you didn't go completely unnoticed that time. And every time after that, you had his full attention. From when you slipped into his lab to make up for the one you missed in yours, scouted the fraternities, to when you sat in his economics class.

He didn't plan for banter between you two, but it made each boring class fly by. There was only one time he was seriously annoyed. The infamous time he threw the invitation your way. In truth, he had failed his calculus exam a class before (everyone actually failed), and he was too stressed to pay attention during the lecture.

You implied that his sex was all he had to offer. As if that's all he was capable of? He, after all, attends on a scholarship. A scholarship he earned for achieving a 4.0 GPA and being STEM club president in high school. The only thing that made the corner of his mouth lift a little was that you obviously thought a lot about how much sex he was having. Did it bother you?

It had to a little, right? That's why you stepped foot into the frat house with his invitation in hand. Because you were curious. You were trying to get something on him again (except he had no idea how serious you were about this). So he made sure he kept an eye on you. Though things got harder -literally- when alcohol was in his system.

Your taunts left his head spinning. The way your breath hitched before 'Daddy', the smile clear in your voice. It left him with no choice but to push off the couch to find you. Determined, he pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hands that reached out to him.

It was at the bottom of the stairs where he found you. With your hand on the handrail, you raised your eyebrow. Your eyes said you were bored, yet a small smile on your mouth said you were waiting for him. He narrowed his eyes on you, as if saying there was nowhere for you to run. Because you could either go down the stairs into him or up to his bedroom.

Before a word slipped past his lips, you slowly climbed up. Your hands dropped to the bottom of your dress, lifting a little with every step of the floating staircase.

Heat flashed through his body as he viewed your hand slip between your thighs, pushing your panties aside to reveal a glistening center. His mind raced with the possibilities of what you were thinking about.

You giggled, closing your legs and resting against the wall at the top. Jungkook took the opportunity to hurry up the stairs. And when he stumbled to the top, he turned you into the hallway, squeezing your waist harder than he meant to.

As your back bumped into the wall behind you, a dangerous glimmer came across your eyes. Jungkook dropped his gaze from your lips down to where your dress rode up more.

God, your thighs. They looked soft, and he'd do anything to knead them in his hands. Or better, have them squeeze around him as he eats you out. Jungkook's eyes fell back over your face, and he watched the way you press your tongue against your teeth. Busted.

"I have a confession," he told you. "I have thought about choking you."

You trained your eyes on him. Slowly, his hand traveled to brush your hair away before he wrapped it around your neck, carefully pressing his thumb on the side of your throat.

You gave him the middle finger, biting down on your lip.

He chuckled, holding up his own. Except, he made you follow it as he brought it between your legs. Lightly, his middle finger trailed in your folds, the silkiness of your panties making him hard.

Your chin instinctually tilted and when he did it again, he was welcomed with dampness.

"Careful," you moaned with purpose. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd want to fuck me."

"Enough" he whispered, the alcohol on his breath fanning your face. He stumbled closer, but in a way that was hiding you from the people coming to and from the hallway. You two were visible but not visible enough in the dimly lit and smoke filled corridor.

When you looked back at him, it was with feigned innocence. An expression reading I don't know what you're talking about.

"Enough with the act," he clarified. He was fed up with you acting like you were such a good girl when he was sure you were the opposite.

Your fingers danced up his chest, feathering his neck before your hands interlaced behind it.

"Okay," you said in a small voice, tilting your head.

Your approval shocked Jungkook, making him scrunch his eyebrows.

"I'll drop more than my act... " your eyes looked down to his full lips for a moment. "If you get on your knees and worship me."

You hold his burning gaze. The tension growing so thick that Jungkook caved in that moment. He dropped quickly to the ground, and you straightened up like you didn't expect him too.

In truth, it was like Jungkook was waving for your permission. Before you took what you said back, he threw your leg over his shoulder and lifted his head to cup over your mound.

The hitch in your gasp told him you lost all the air in your lungs, making him smile.

"If I didn't know any better..." he muffled against your panties, "I'd say you want to fuck me too."

And not waiting another second more, he swept your panties to the side and ate you out in the hallway of the frat house. He lapped with his tongue eagerly, breathing in harshly through his nose, your aroma making him hungry for more.

You unraveled, shamefully. Although you squeaked protests, you yanked his hair and sunk his head closer. Riding the waves of pleasure, you felt your face heat up, your hair over it not helping.

Jungkook looked up at you with doe eyes, mouth glistening and fingers softening your side. He knew he had you when you drop into his arms. Catching you, he lifted you up where you could envelope your legs around him.

Bringing you into his room, he kicked the door closed. And placing you onto his bed, he continued where he left off. Kissing, sucking, rolling, lapping, rubbing, he did it all with a euphoric chuckle in between. Your moans edged him, increasing from quiet to airy to whiny.

He could listen to them all day.

Giving his mouth a break, he lifted away and let his fingers achieve your climax. When you arched up, his palm roamed down your side.

"Fuck, ___. Did you forget how a good girl's supposed to act?"

He was right, you had forgotten. Your task almost slipping out of your mind.

What he didn't know was when he reached over to play music, you had pulled out your phone from your bra to press record before sliding it under the pillow. And before he noticed, you brought him into the bed to lie down so you could climb on top.

And that video was never supposed to be put out.

- - - - - - - - - - -

When was the last time you had a good night's sleep? We're talking pulse undetectable kind of sleep. Sleep that you wake up feeling as if you've been pulled from the depths of the earth. This sleep was so concerning you were debating whether you needed to be checked for sleep apnea.

It took a lot of effort to open your eyelids, one fluttering after the other as you get used to your muscles again. When your vision clears, the confusion brews.

You question if you ever left Taehyung's room. Then, the room becomes crystal clear, making all the memories hit you at once. The bonfire, Jungkook and Nina, the fight, the kiss, the shower. You almost orgasm for the fifth time --- not really, but it was overwhelming to experience a night's long event in a flash.

Soft humming turns your attention to find Jungkook at his desk. He looks softer today as his oversized cream shirt swallows him. His hand glides across his notebook as he jots down notes from his laptop, his other hand drumming on the surface of the desk. The sun is shining on him, and the way his hair gleams it's chocolate hues makes you want to run your fingers through it again. But what entertains you the most is the golden round frames on his face. Oh, his face. The bruise had gotten worse. You suck in your breath, remembering how fast Taehyung threw his fist across Jungkook's face last night. 

You must've been staring for so long because he picks up his head and glances over. With a double-take, he processes that you're awake.

You wish you were a graceful waker-upper with flowing hair and a radiant face. Instead, you squint as you sit up, and attempt to fix your (his) shirt that's twisted around your body.

"You're a morning person," you mumble.

Jungkook snorts, twisting his pen between his fingers. "Morning? It's already 3." Amused, you watch how he spins it. A smile tugs on your face, recalling how he did that in class. Then his words sink in.

3 p.m.?! Oh, hell. Juli has probably already sent out a search party. It wouldn't have gotten far knowing Yoongi would calm her down, but at the expense of spilling the beans. And that's if videos of you didn't spread. Not to mention, when you walk out of this room, you'd have to face Taehyung.

Fuck, this was worse than a hangover.

Your pulled from your thoughts hearing Jungkook climb onto the bed, you look at him raising an eyebrow. When he gets close enough, you frown, which stretches his smile. As he hovers over your lips, your annoyance melts away. 

"Fucking love that," he murmurs.

"Hm?" you open your eyes.

He scrunches his face cutely, "How you act so tough, until..." He pauses, and you give a wobble of your head to say 'go on'. He takes your lips quicker than you realize.

You stare at him until you turn away to crack a smile. You hate that he's right. Are you that weak for him?

He smirks, pointing his eyebrows at you because yes, yes you were. In response, you take his glasses from his face.

Jungkook lunges at you, kissing you harder. His smile matches yours as you catch up to his excited kisses. Was he waiting for you to wake up this whole time to do that? Your morning kiss turns from fun and cute to serious when he nips your top lip. There's a brief hitch before your lips are tingling, your teeth accidentally clashing, and your losing air, unable to catch it when he keeps diving for more.

"J-Jung-"

Your phone rings loudly, causing you both to untangle. To your surprise, you find it charging on his nightstand. 

Jungkook pants and adjusts himself at his waistband. "Sora found it. It's been going off all morning."

You close your eyes before taking it from the charger. "Juli... she's going to kill me."

Unknown to Jungkook, you were talking more about the relationship than not answering her calls. But you'll have at least the entire drive home to figure out how to explain it to her.

Jungkook lays back against his headboard, holding his hands together, looking over your shoulder. "Nah, she knows you're fine. I texted her."

You freeze. "Texted?"

He looks at you proudly. "That you were safe and sound with your boyfriend."

Your heart skips a beat. 

"And...?" Your voice catches in your throat.

"Wanna find out?" Jungkook unclasps his hands and tugs the phone out of your hand, happily.

"Wait, from my phone? How did you even unlock-"

He holds it in front of your face with a cheesy grin and you watch it unlock. Your almost too stunned by his cleverness.

He's caught up in reading her text that he forgets to read it out loud. You lean in to face her mass texts.

You (Jungkook): I'm fine~~ With my new boyfriend💋 Juli: Bitch wtf?! ! ! Juli: Serious orrr Juli: Hello???? Juli: It's been 2 hours, slut!! You better be having the best sex of your life Juli: Oh, so you can text Yoongi you're okay, but not ME Juli: You have 1 hour😤

"She wasn't wrong," Jungkook rolls out of his mouth and you supress a smile.

"Well-" 

"I don't want to hear it." Jungkook sets the phone aside and hovers over you. You give in and fall back, staring up into his doe eyes. Even though his face is bruised, it's still one of the most attractive faces you know. 

You inhale slowly, feeling the warmth bubbling in your chest. Today, was the first day of your relationship with Jungkook. It made you nervous. What would your days with the once campus playboy be like? How would everyone react? You two were in opposing fraternities, making it so unexpected. Then, there's the girls that would be jealous and who'd wonder why he chose you out of all of them.

Even you know your worth, and couldn't help but wonder what drew Jungkook toward you. If you told him a month ago, he'd go as far as fighting his best friend over you, he'd tell you to go to hell.

Jungkook bends closer, and you feel his soft lips against your neck. 

"Tonight's Meet the Greeks."  You whisper out.

He hums to confirm, the vibrations making you close your eyes. 

"We only have a couple of hours..."

"Perfect." He opens his mouth and kisses where he's at.  

You entangle your fingers in his hair. Not what you meant. 

"Don't you need to set up your presentation?" You try to control your voice, but he's making it hard. 

"It's on my laptop. I saved us some time by having disabled the password so I can just-"

He lifts his hand and mimics opening the laptop quickly, all the while his lips remain working on your neck.

You roll your eyes. That's so him.

You still had a lot to do, like go over your speech, pick-up the flyers, and get ready. But your mind gets hazy with how Jungkook's worked his way up to your ear, gently blowing in it. And the next thing you know, you're going back under the covers.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You turned down Jungkook's offer to walk you to your car. He still had to get ready and you knew all the possibilities of what that trip to your car could turn into. You were enough trouble, you didn't want to add late to a fraternity meeting on the list.

As you walk down the hall, you look up when you hear a door close.  

Who else could be stepping out of the bathroom other than Kim Taehyung? Walking out of Jungkook's room, you knew you had a lot of people to face. He wasn't the first one on the list you wanted to encounter. 

He looks up, hair dripping droplets down. As he put the necklace back around his neck, his muscles flexed under his tight tank, his sweatpants hanging low as he must've quickly thrusted them on after his shower. You suck in air between your teeth because you lost all bragging rights of him.

Taehyung blinks, his eyes flickering anger? Sadness? Resent? Disappointment? Everything all at once?

He lowers his lids as he drops his hands, necklace hanging where it should. "Congratulations."

There was a chance he was being genuine. Yet, you couldn't help make the situation so awkward that the tension physically hurt. "Taehyung," you breathe out shaky, "I'm-"

He shakes his head. Leaning forward with a lopsided smile, he winks. "I said 'congratulations'."

Nodding your head, you lock your lips tight.

He brushes past you, but calls your name when he's a little further away. 

You face him, cheeks flushed.

"Whenever you need me... you can come to me."

He lifts two fingers but instead of holding it by his eye as usual, he holds it over his mouth. He spreads his tongue out between his fingers. Your lips part in shock. 

"I don't even have to be there." Backing away, he holds out his arms in a shrug.

While holding your breath, you watch him chuckle before walking back to his room.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been 2 hours since you left, and Jungkook's high wasn't wearing off. Despite the bruise on his nose extending out to under his left eye, he grinned. He didn't win the fight, yet he felt victorious. He was curious about what rumors people were circulating about that night. People had to be smart enough to speculate it was about a girl. What would their reaction be like when they find out it was over you? And that you chose Jungkook? He throws his head back, elated that you're going around calling him yours. 

After tonight's meeting, he plans on stopping by your place, surprising you with hot food from Yum's food truck, and putting on whatever was new this week. The fall weather was perfect for horror movie so maybe he'll suggest that. And then tomorrow, the two of you could drag yourselves out of bed to study in the library. You'll hate him for it, but all will be forgiven when he gets you your favorite drink from the coffee shop by the entrance. 

Monday, you'll plot how to give Dr. Lim a heart attack, and that might be as easy as walking in holding hands or him stealing kisses in the middle of lecture. Tuesday, he'll leave his frat meeting to go bother yours. Wednesday, he'll crash at your place and woo your roommates with chicken and soju. Thursday, he'll steal you after class and take you downtown until late at night when string lights illuminate the block and music plays loudly on the speakers.

Friday, you'll go to the city's pier and he'll show off on the zipline before taking you on the ferris wheel a thousand times. Saturday, he'll follow you around as you do your errands, even if it was simply doing your laundry for the week, sneaking in butt pinches when he can. Sunday, he'll bring you home and while you grocery shop for the week, he'll introduce you to his neighborhood grandmas (who dote on him), so they can have something new to brag about.

And the next week, you'll do it all over again.

As he walked into the meeting room, his grin set off a round of curious and knowing ooooohs. He bears his teeth and widens his eyes, overwhelmed with how questions are thrown his way. With a wave of his hands he dismisses the comments about Taehyung being thrown out of the fraternity. 

He sets his laptop at the podium and unclenches his jaw. "Nope. I'm not kicking him out of the frat."

Namjoon leans forward and raises his eyebrow, arms crossed across his chest. It's his way of asking Jungkook if he's okay. He nods his way, reassuring him.

"We had a misunderstanding."

Jimin mutters the word in disbelief. "A misunderstanding would be like the time you drank his drink and he told you he had mono, not 'want more?' A misunderstanding is not trying to concave each other's bones."

Namjoon raises his arm to block Jimin's view of Jungkook, trying to get him to calm down. 

Jungkook has to hold onto the podium with both hands. He gulps, "Well, I'm not kicking him out, but it's his choice if he's staying."

Another member speaks up, "Without Taehyung, we don't have a treasurer. We might actually have to cut back. He paid for everything!"

Jungkook tenses up, feeling the stress weigh him down. Taehyung did a lot as treasurer, even paying any difference in what they couldn't fundraise. If they lose him, it could be the fall of the fraternity if they didn't pull their shit together. Jungkook hated that. He hated relying on Taehyung for money. 

He continues, "We might have to actually fundraise-"

"Not leaving the frat,"  a low voice interrupts from behind them. The one who speaks up looks like his face dried and shriveled upon hearing Taehyung. 

Taehyung walks and pulls out the chair with his foot before plopping himself down. "So you can keep being my sugar baby."

"Sorry," he squeaks.

Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes. Taehyung stares back with empty ones. After a few pauses, his left hand comes up to bring his vape to his mouth. Jungkook flickers his eyes away, quickly recomposing himself. 

"Alright, then. Let's just get tonight over with. You all know what you need to do... tables, chairs, banner, catering, music... I still have to finish the presentation."

The volume increases as the meeting ends, everyone suddenly acting responsible to prepare for tonight.

Jungkook can't help but feel awkward with Taehyung in the room. The two couldn't just brush off the asshole things they said. Jungkook knows he should be the first one to apologize since he threw the first punch, but he couldn't move his two feet. Taehyung was going to leave soon to set up his DJ equipment, so maybe the apology could wait?

Except, Taehyung wasn't leaving. He kept sitting there at the table, vaping, checking his nails, or whistling. At some point, when Jungkook looked up, Taehyung flinched under his stare as if Jungkook's gaze hurt the bruises on his face. Dramatically, he touches them and looks back at his hand in mock terror. Jungkook scoffs, almost pointing to his own nose that he should x-ray.

With a deep sigh, Jungkook mutters an apology.

Taehyung sticks a finger in his ear, looking around the room like he didn't hear him. He yawns, smacking his lips at the end. Looking at Jungkook he raises his eyebrows. Hmm? 

Jungkook shakes his head, tapping the side of his laptop. "I'm sorry."

"So you'll hand her over?" Taehyung doesn't miss a beat.

Before he can frown, Taehyung jumps up from his chair. "Kidding."

"For the record, I'm not sorry for what I said." 

"Good. 'Cause neither am I." Taehyung shrugs.

Jungkook nods, feeling a little bit better. "Now go make sure the microphone and speakers are set up."

"Yes, president." With a salute, Taehyung turns and grabs his jacket off one of the hooks on the wall. The jacket only sees the light of day during events like this since he doesn't regularly wear it.

Jungkook looks back at his laptop, the screensaver running. A video thumbnail appears and he narrows his eyes, recognizing that the video was taken yesterday based on his outfit. He looks around the room to make sure that no one is left. As he presses play, drunken memories slowly return. His eyes widen and he quickly disconnects the HDMI cord from the projector.

"Jungkook!" Someone calls for him from outside the room.

He clears his throat and walks over to help lift the marquee light up letters on the cart.

That video on his laptop was another one that was never supposed to go out. Maybe if Jungkook hadn't left his laptop unattended...

it wouldn't have. 

___________________________________________

Bad Guy Taglist @nglmrk @happyflowergalaxy @infernal-alpaca @kokoandkookie @giadalin @sugarp3ach @jknk @daddypkj @maichiverse @marcoazz2 @thisartemisnevermisses @shatzkrinslinzki @jentle-monster  @bunnybearrj @choco-chip-kookie @trickylittlewitch @brilliantmoon7 @moonchilddna @sionaaa @go0dasgolden @hrts4kook @mageprincess7 @everythanggoes @freakitti @cantchooseanamebye @bbtsficrecs @bnagtanx1306 @hiii-priestess @somehowukook @kumakoyan @nqseo @multiasf @picturethosesmiles @angelarin @ellesalazar @september-husband @daddychims

I hope the taglist works, sorry if I missed you! And for everyone reading, thank you! For those who responded to my "need-support" post, know that you HELPED!! This goes out for you!

[thedoctorsthings]

Power to the King teaser

summary: in the capital city of a small Nordic kingdom in the 10th century the king is slowly descending into madness. His wife recently died and he remarries. His sons Yoongi and Jungkook desperately try to keep his destructive tendencies in control while dealing with their own destructive romances.

featuring: crown prince Yoongi, second born prince Jungkook, royal guards Hoseok and Namjoon, druids Taehyung and Seokjin and farmer boy Jimin.

this series will be 7 parts divided into chapters. One part for each member. We'll follow them into their journey of meeting the love of their lives in a 10th century viking settlement. beneath you'll find the trope of each story

Jungkook: Prince x chambermaid (forbidden romance)

Taehyung: Druid x forest nymph (friends to lovers)

Jimin: farmer boy x princess (forbidden romance)

Namjoon: royal guard x barmaid (no idea what trope this is except for king being a destructive dick)

Hoseok: royals guard x druid's apprentice (promised to another)

Yoongi: Crown prince x noble girl (forced marriage/enemies to lovers)

Seokjin: Druid x king's wife (forbidden love, my personal favourite)

disclaimers: angst, smut but only implied never explicitly described, historical inaccuracies (i'm not an expert and i don't have time to do excessive research), lot's of dramatic typical period drama stuff, people getting wounded, war, yearning etc

coming somewhere in february probably cuz i got exams now

[pascaloverx]

Invisible Bonds: The Power of Destiny

Author's Note: This fanfic contains possible strong language and explores themes of unconventional love. The relationship between the protagonists will be handled with sensitivity, without explicit scenes.

preview chapter two

*pictures credits are not mine, credits belong to their owners

Chapter One

You woke up feeling discouraged, but with a hopeful feeling that things would get better. How could you not feel hopeful when the love of your life is about to marry an incredible woman?

"Darling, Taehyung called to let you know he'll be waiting for you at the beauty salon. He said you'd know which one. He also wanted to remind you that he remembered to pick up the tuxedo and the shoes. He asked you to call his friend about the wedding rings." Your mother shouted from downstairs, and you felt the urge to never leave your bed again. How could you be a bridesmaid in a wedding you theoretically should prevent? But then again, who are you to go against the dictates of destiny?

Your mother came to visit you this weekend because Taehyung considers her a second mother, and she's thrilled to see her heart's son getting married. She has already given up of the ideia of you getting married.

You shout back that you're already getting ready to meet the groom. Damn, you had forgotten to call Taehyung's childhood friend, Jungkook. You haven't met him in person, but you've heard the guys talk a lot about him. And by guys, you mean the college friends you met through Taehyung: Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin. The lilac dress that the bride has chosen for all the bridesmaids is so delicate that you feel like you shouldn't even take it out of the closet. You quickly slip into it and fix your hair within minutes. Why take your time when you're not the bride, right?

Finishing getting ready, you search for Jungkook's number on your phone. You wonder why you volunteered to help with this wedding and why, out of everyone, you ended up with the task of calling this guy. The phone rings and rings, but no one answers. When I call again, he finally picks up. His voice is hoarse; it feels like I just woke him up. Oops...

"There better be a good reason for calling me this early in the morning then..." He says in an almost rude tone. You wonder if there's a way to slap someone through the phone. Perhaps in the future, there will be.

"Good morning, Jungkook. I hate to break it to you, but as an adult, you should've been up hours ago. My name is (Y/N), and I'd like to know if the wedding rings and their bearer will be here on time for the wedding." You reply, trying to be as patient as possible, but honestly, you're furious. Always having to deal with other people's issues.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful voice? Ever thought about becoming a singer or a voice actor?" He says while you can hear noises in the background, a woman murmuring something. He's too busy getting romantically involved with someone to remember to be a good friend, how wonderful.

"Instead of trying to flatter me, make sure you're here at the agreed time and with the rings. If you want to invite your company to come along, feel free. But know that if you mess something up today, I'll be your particular nightmare." You say as sternly as possible. You even slow down your speech in the last part to appear more intimidating.

"If this is your way of asking if I'll be accompanied today, the answer is no. As for the rest, I'll do exactly as you asked, if you promise to reward me at the end of the night." He says, trying to be seductive. You prefer to pretend you didn't hear that proposition.

"I'm sorry to burst your fantasies, but I don't plan on getting involved with anyone. You can pretend that I'm saving myself for my other half." You reply firmly, putting an end to any further advances.

"Believing in soulmates is for fools. I bet I can convince you otherwise at the wedding." You don't even know the guy, but you're already envious of his arrogance.

"Listen, I have things to do and can't waste time. I expect to see you in a few hours, appropriately dressed and with wedding rings in your pocket." You say firmly, ending the conversation and hanging up the phone.

You descend the stairs, seeing the table full of food that your mother is packing for you to freeze and eat during the week. You thank her and let her know you won't be able to have breakfast together. She says she doesn't want to inconvenience you, knowing that Taehyung needs you. You nod in agreement and give your mother a goodbye kiss. A few minutes later, you're finishing up the last details at the reception hall. Of course, you had already organized things at the church. Everything is going as planned. You arrive at the beauty salon where the bride and groom are getting their skin and hair done.

"I was starting to miss you. You look breathtaking." Taehyung says as he gets up from the chair where he was finishing his makeup. He looks so radiant, as if his smile could light up the world. It heals me even as it hurts. He isn't my soulmate; God knows he never thought of me romantically, but I simply love him.

"Look who's talking. Haewon is going to feel incredibly lucky when she sees you walking down the aisle like this. Although, she looks stunning. I sneakily peeked because I thought you'd want to know." You say as you adjust Taehyung's tie.

"I'm so nervous. It's worse than that time we were at a concert, and I got called up on stage to sing. I don't know how I'm going to walk down the aisle and wait for my future wife patiently." He says as you lock at each other. It's not romantic, but it's a moment of tenderness. After all, he is my best friend, and he's getting married.

""Taehyung, today you embark on a new chapter of your life, and I have no doubt that your love story with Haewon will be as magical as the bond that you guys already share. No nervousness in the world will ruin your moment." You say, trying to be as positive as possible.

"You always know what to say. I love you, you know that?" He says, hugging you.

"I love you too, now come on. We have a beautiful wedding waiting for you, and it's not nice to keep the bride waiting." You say as you send a message to the driver, letting them know Taehyung is ready to go. According to the schedule, Haewon will be making her grand entrance in about ten minutes.

The journey from the salon to the church takes about five minutes. Up until now, everything has been going perfectly. Right now, Taehyung is surrounded by friends and is nervous. Not because of the bride, but because Jungkook hasn't arrived yet. That idiot.

You knew you shouldn't have trusted him to get the rings. You can't believe he's going to mess everything up in the end. And just as you lose patience completely, Jungkook walks into the church. At least, you think he's Jungkook. I must admit he looks elegant, almost like he stepped out of a movie. He arrives with a smile, as if he's the main attraction.

And suddenly, you feel it—a suffocating sensation as if the air has been sucked out of the world. A pain in your chest so immense that it makes you stumble, clinging onto Taehyung for support. Then you notice Jungkook doesn't seem well either. Damn, this can only mean one thing. As your body collapses to the ground and your consciousness fades, amidst people shouting and lifting me to call for medical help, you feel something inside you that only soulmates feel for each other. You can't believe that out of all the people in the world, your other half is Jeon Jungkook.

[colormepurplex2]

Fickle Flame | Rules of Engagement

↳  OT7 x FemOC | OT7 x OT7 ⤜ Enemies/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 8,520 ⚠️ Shameless smut, like 80% of this is just pure sex. Alpha roleplay with a pseudo knot/modified cock ring, mm anal, dick sucking, fingering, lots of orgasms and cum play, maybe even a peek at a breeding kink, a mild allusion to subspace.

Next Chapter⇾ **coming soon** ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list

It’s cold.

Painfully cold.

That’s all that registers to Shayne. That and that infernal clicking again. It just won’t stop. Click. Click. Click. Like a fly buzzing in her ear, she wants nothing more than to swat it away but for some reason, her arms won’t work. Maybe if she could see it, it would help her be able to smack it away. Only, just like her arms, her eyes won’t obey her internal request for them to do what she wants.

Fear.

It settles in her belly, so thick she can taste it in the back of her throat. Her body isn’t responding. She wonders if this is what it’s like to be dead. They finally did it. They finally succeeded in killing her. A flicker of awareness twinges in her subconscious, the feeling wholly wrong.

No.

They didn’t do this. He did.

Memories slam back into place and the stark reality of Nichols with his hands around her throat blazes through her on a soul-deep level. Her eyes finally flash open and that fire races down her throat as she tries to suck in a breath.

“So sweet,” a rough, guttural voice snarls. Fire blooms through her again. It’s at that moment she realizes it’s not the memories that have her burning, it’s the teeth shredding through the flesh of her neck like it’s wet tissue paper.

Shayne tries to cry out but the only thing that emits from her is a wet gurgling mewl. Nichols' heavy body pins her to Seokjin’s bed. She can feel a sticky, warm wetness soaking into the blankets and mattress beneath her. Blood. Her blood; too much of it.

With feeble, half-numb fingers, Shayne tries to swat at Nicholas. The best she can do is get a hand around one of his forearms and squeeze. “P-plea—, “she tries again, but the word is choked with coppery liquid that bubbles up into her throat.

Her vision becomes fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness seeping back in. It’s a slow slide into the darkness. Everything feels so heavy. The clicking has thankfully stopped with Nichols fully focused on the reopened wound in her neck. He laps and slurps at it with a sick glee, murmuring incoherent words of praise and delight.

“It’s a wonder they haven’t done this themselves,” he whispers, dragging his sharp teeth over the wound and making it froth with new blood. “I may have gotten a bit carried away with my licking, my saliva has nearly closed Jimin’s bite back up. We can’t have that, now can we?”

Over the ringing in her ears, Shayne faintly hears a vicious howl echo down the hall from the other side of the door. There is a loud crash from behind Nichols who grunts in alarm before being bodily snatched off of her. Shayne tries to blink her eyes clear to see what’s going on. The only thing she’s able to make out is an awful cracking sound, like a rock being snapped in half, and then a giant shadow looms over the bed.

It takes a moment but she realizes it’s not a shadow, but a large pitch-black wolf with piercing, moss-colored eyes. There is black blood and saliva coating its snout and jaws. A few wet drops mist her face as the wolf huffs a hot gush of air in her direction. The wolf snuffs its large, wet nose against her shoulder and gives a low-pitched whine.

The large shape coalesces, shrinking down and fading in color until a disheveled Taehyung is kneeling over her. A small sob shakes her body, more blood gurgling up into her mouth turning it into a choked, wet rattle.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taehyung curses, clamping a hand onto Shayne’s neck. “I’ve never done this before,” he growls in frustration. “Let me just—,” he works his tongue around inside his mouth before leaning down and replacing his hand with it. A shudder runs through his body and his muscles tense. His tongue presses along the bite that’s been made even more jagged by Nichols. With slow and restrained motions, Taehyung works his saliva into the wound and sighs when he feels the flesh start to knit back together.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon calls, stumbling into the room. “What the fuck?” he exclaims softly, taking in the scene before him.

Satisfied with the wounds healing, Taehyung finally leans back and rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the tantalizing and tempting taste of Shayne’s blood that was mixed with the black blood that was already staining his chin. “Nichols,” he huffs. “He reopened Jimin’s bite. I wasn’t— I wasn’t sure if it would work…saliva. But, it seems to be okay, the were-venom must be out of her system, allowing it to heal from the enzymes.”

Shayne’s eyelids flutter as she tries to focus on the man leaning over her; her savior. “Th-thank you,” she rasps, finally able to form words without the accompanying metallic tang of blood surging up with them.

Taehyung scoffs, shoving away from Shayne and lumbering to his feet. “Don’t thank me, sweetheart. I didn’t do that for you.”

Something slithers around Shayne’s heart, latching on with cold fingers. It might be disappointment, but it’s hard to decipher with so many other emotions and feelings surging through her.

“We should give her an injection of Flux,” Namjoon comments from where he stands next to Taehyung. His calculating eyes flicker over the mess of Seokjin’s bed for a moment before he turns and gestures to the floor. “Robinson is already aware of the insurgence, the compound is on lockdown until further notice. Yoongi has three in the holding cells, we’ll figure out what to do with them in the morning.”

“I’ll go get the Flux. Are you going to stay here or should I call one of the others?” Taehyung asks as he steps over to one of Seokjin’s cabinets and riffles through the contents until he pulls out a pair of pants to slip over his naked form.

Namjoon stands there in silence, his eyes locked back on Shayne’s prone form. “I’ll stay,” he finally says. He moves to perch on the edge of the bed, making sure to avoid the large, wet pool of blood soaking it. Shayne stares into Namjoon’s eyes, watching the flare of emotions she can’t pinpoint before they go blank. “Just a small dose,” Namjoon adds when Taehyung has opened the door and taken a half-step into the hall.

“Noted.” Taehyung nods. “I’ll send Seokjin this way so he can get his bed sorted. Um, what about the body?”

“Have Hoseok come and collect it. We’ll burn it.”

“On it.” The door clicks closed behind Taehyung, the sound making Shayne flinch.

“Does that sound bother you?” Namjoon asks softly.

Shayne’s tongue feels thick as she pokes it out to swipe it over her dry lips. There is an acrid tang coating her lips that makes her stomach heave. “The clicking,” she whispers. “I heard clicking.”

Namjoon hums, leaning down and grabbing something off the floor. He holds up a small metallic rectangle-shaped object so Shayne can see. “He used it to set a fire in the dining hall.” He flicks his thumb over the top of the object and it opens, a single flicker of flame dances in the suspended space between the separated parts before he flicks his thumb again, and the top drops back down, smothering the fire. “A lighter.”

“Stolen flame,” she mutters in response.

That makes Namjoon quirk an eyebrow but he doesn’t press for an explanation. She’s clearly barely holding onto consciousness and has lost far too much blood in the last few days.

“You just can’t catch a break, can you?” Namjoon coos softly, brushing a few blood-matted strands of hair from Shayne’s face. “I’m sorry you’re having to endure all of these things. It’s never been like this with a ticket before. We’re usually not so careless. I promised you, in the beginning, you could be happy here and I don’t think I’ve been doing a very good job of upholding that promise.”

He’s about to open his mouth and continue when the door opens again and admits Seokjin, followed closely by a frazzled Jungkook. 

“Ah, fuck, what a mess,” Seokjin curses. “Jungkook, grab a cloth from the bathroom, please.”

Jungkook disappears into Seokjin’s bathroom. A moment later he comes back out and around to the other side of the bed, opposite Namjoon, and kneels beside Shayne. “Hey there, sweet cheeks,” he murmurs, gently tilting her head to the side to get a better look at the wound. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little.”

“I sent Taehyung for a dose of Flux,” Namjoon informs them.

Seokjin jerks up straight from his assessment of Nichols’ body. “Is that wise, after what happened the last time we used it?”

Namjoon sighs. “It’s that or we wait who knows how many days or weeks until she can fully recover on her own.”

Shayne hates how they talk about her as if she’s not right here. They talk about her like she’s just an object. Which, she supposes, is partly true in their eyes.

“I’ll stay with her,” Jungkook volunteers.

“Of course you would say that,” Seokjin sasses. “She’s rightfully mine for the night. I suppose we can’t really stay here, though. Not with my bed out of commission like this,” he groans, flicking an annoyed hand at the blood-soaked bed. “Once she’s been dosed, you can take her to your room, Jungkook. I’ll be right behind you after I get the bed tossed.”

“If anyone deserves her for the night, it’s me,” Taehyung says from the doorway. “I did save her, after all.” He ambles in, one hand holding a small syringe and the other a tiny glass vial filled with bright blue liquid.

Seokjin peers down at Shayne, his brow furrowed. “Very well, Taehyung. You can join us in Jungkook’s room, as long as that’s okay with Shayne.”

That catches her off guard. She wasn’t expecting the decision to be delegated to her. It’s not like they’ve ever given much thought or consideration to her wants or desires before. All four of them look at her expectantly.

“O-ok,” she manages to wheeze out.

Jungkook tuts softly. “Don’t make her talk, not until she’s had the Flux. Come on, Taehyung, the sooner we get it in her the better.”

“This might sting a little at first, but I promise it’ll make everything better soon.” Taehyung settles on the bed beside Jungkook and takes up Shayne’s arm. There is a fiery prick in the crook of her elbow that makes her stiffen up and suck in a stilted breath but it only lasts a moment. A floaty calm replaces the burn, flowing out from her elbow and suffusing throughout her body.

“There we go,” Jungkook murmurs. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

Shayne catches sight of Hoseok coming into the room just before Jungkook carries her out the door. Namjoon’s steely voice, providing instructions, follows them down the hall until Jungkook turns a corner and it becomes too faint to be heard.

“What happened?” Shayne asks, feeling much more lucid after whatever it was Taehyung injected her with. “What’s Flux?”

Jungkook chews his lip and Shayne can tell he’s contemplating how much to actually tell her. Finally, he glances down at her and she feels his shoulders bump up with a shrug. “An insurgence. Some rogue vamps, led by that jackass Nichols, decided they wanted to try and take us out, stupidly. Not sure the reasoning behind it yet, but Yoongi should get some information out of the survivors in the morning. He’s quite creative.” Jungkook smirks. “As for what Flux is, it’s a drug we engineered from the healing enzymes that are in vampire venom. Think of it like a super healer, you’ll be completely healed and ready to fuck at least half a dozen hard cocks within the next hour.”

“Ready to what?” Shayne asks, certain she didn’t hear him correctly.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he suppresses a smile. “An unfortunate– or maybe not so unfortunate, side effect of the Flux. We haven’t been able to separate out the properties of the enzymes that elicit arousal. You’ll be healed, but you’re also going to be hornier than you’ve probably ever been in your life.”

Now that he’s said it, she’s suddenly all too aware of a faint throbbing between her thighs. “I don’t want that,” she whispers, squirming in his arms to try to gain her own feet.

Jungkook tightens his hold on Shayne, thwarting her struggles and making her wheeze out a squeak. His words are firm, firmer than he’s ever been with her, “We would have used the Flux on you after Jimin’s incident, but we figured you could use a few days rest and reprieve anyway. But, that was still so fresh. And well, Nichols really did a number on you. It wasn’t an easy call for Namjoon to make, but it was the right one. Whether you accept that or not, you can fight it right now, but you’ll be thanking him later, guaranteed once you have a clear head. A few hours of unabashed lewdness is a small price for your life and health.”

“No,” she whimpers, feeling each step Jungkook takes with a jolt of desire. Even the slight jostle and rub of her body against his, as he flows easily from foot to foot, feels like a thousand micro caresses licking between her thighs. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh, I know it’s uncomfortable at first, but what you really need is relief. After I get you cleaned up, it’ll get better. Seokjin and Taehyung will be joining us and you’ll have plenty to keep you occupied and help ease the ache.”

Jungkook shoulders open his bedroom door and quickly skirts over to his bathroom. Shayne is entirely too focused on the heat and aches throbbing inside her to even care to gawk at his luxurious space again.

The shirt Shayne has on hits the floor and goosebumps erupt over her arms and shoulders. The cooler air of the bathroom contrasts wildly with the warmth simmering under her skin, like warring seasons that make her feel dizzy on her feet. “J-jungk-kook,” she stutters, teeth chattering together over the syllables.

The seams on his clothing strain, nearly succumbing to the rough yanking he does to remove them. Jungkook steps around the far side of the deep bathing pool, tugging Shayne along by an elbow. “Not going to bother with a bath, we can just use the shower head over here,” he explains, more in a rambling way than anything. “Here, stand here, mhmm.” He flicks a few knobs and a shower of warm water pelts down onto Shayne from a nearly hidden rain shower head in the ceiling. “Soap,” he offers, grabbing a half-empty bottle from a small cubby in the wall.

The bubbles smell the same way Jungkook’s sheets do, like some lightly floral clean scent. Shayne knows she should indulge in the shower and the proffered bathing foam, but the shudders now wracking through her shoulders and legs make it awfully hard to concentrate on anything other than putting her hands on Jungkook and getting his hands on her— which she promptly does.

“Touch me,” she insists, tossing the bottle of body wash to the floor and latching onto Jungkook’s forearms. “It hurts.”

Jungkook chuckles when his back hits the wall as Shayne pushes against him. The shower rains down against his shoulder, little mists of water tickling his nose from where it bounces off of Shayne’s skin as she presses her front against his. The response from his body is natural, almost instant, his cock thickening where it rests against her belly. Shayne lifts a leg and hooks it over Jungkook’s hip, coming up onto her toes and slanting her mouth over his.

“You want me, sweet cheeks?” he teases, the words barely working past the kisses she’s demanding.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Shayne gasps, fisting a hand in Jungkook’s hair and jerking his face down to her throat. He groans in response and nuzzles his lips against the now-healed spot where Jimin’s bite was. The sticky, semi-dried blood covering her neck smears against his lips, mixing with the water pouring down over them.

Working one of his hands between them, Jungkook sinks a thick digit right into her wet heat. Shayne cries out, bucking against his hand in search of more stimulation. “Needy girl. Maybe we should have used Flux on you sooner. Fuck,” he grunts.

“More, please. I need more, Jungkook!” Shayne feels like she’s about to cry from frustration. The gentle in and out of only a single digit from Jungkook is barely a tease and it’s doing nothing to quell the intense ache in her body.

Jungkook laps at the blood coating her neck, working in a second and then a third finger. “Take what you need,” Jungkook whispers between nips along her neck and shoulder.

Shayne uses her hand in Jungkook’s hair, the other planted on his shoulder as leverage to move her body up and down, fucking herself fast on his fingers. A lightheaded fuzziness blooms through her right before she clamps down around him and gives a weak, still-frustrated cry. The flagging orgasm is only a small wave in the tidal pool of need that’s battering her body. “Make it stop,” Shayne whimpers. Her knees give out and she sags against Jungkook.

Being careful with her lax limbs, Jungkook hitches her higher until he drags her other leg over his hip to match the other. He lifts her just high enough to get himself positioned at her entrance and then lets her body slump again, effectively impaling her on his cock. “Fuck,” he grunts, wrapping his arms around her and shoving deeper inside.

Shayne gives a pitiful cry. Her hands scrabble along Jungkook’s arms, fighting for purchase. She’s so wet and slippery with arousal that he slides in easily, but it’s still a snug fit. Her traitorous body welcomes him, the same as before. Though, perhaps now her heart might be sharing that burden of betrayal, as she can’t find it in herself to protest or deny how much she wants this.

There is a physical war waging inside her body. The Flux works on a chemical level, flooding the body with an influx of hormones that cause a chain reaction of aches, arousal, and need. Added to the internal, emotional conflict over still being a captive and effectively being held against her will. While, at the same time, Shayne’s body is so spent, still recovering from the additional blood loss, that she feels suspended in a void; neither here nor there.

Jungkook continues to move her body, lifting her and dropping her back down over and over again onto his throbbing shaft. His own grunts of pleasure echo throughout the bathroom, bouncing and reverberating until it sounds like there are a dozen people fucking around them.

The next orgasm that rips through Shayne has her head rolling back and her eyes squeezing shut. Her walls grip and contract around Jungkook, triggering his own release. It gushes with the jerky pumps of his hips, forcing his sticky, warm cum to drip down and collect along her ass. A soft, piny scent invades the bathroom, a subtle addition to the fragrant soaps and Jungkook’s naturally sweet essence that Shayne is starting to associate with his arousal.

“I’ll take her,” Taehyung’s voice breaks through the heavy breathing of both Shayne and Jungkook. He steps into the bathroom, bringing more of that piny scent with him, and hits a switch on the wall, cutting off the water. There is a towel sitting on the sink that he grabs and gathers Shayne in, headless of the cum still coating her. Jungkook digs into a cabinet and grabs out his own, slinging it around his waist and following Taehyung out of the bathroom. “Seokjin should be here soon. He said the agreement is still on, whatever that means.”

Jungkook stiffens where he sits on the bed. “He said that? Even after everything that’s happened tonight?” The questions are more in wonderment than actual curiosity. He stares at Taehyung, watching him arrange Shayne on the bed. “With you here, too?”

Taehyung looks up at that. “With me here? What exactly does Seokjin want, what‘s the agreement?” There is a twinkle of mischief in his dark eyes as he watches Jungkook squirm. “What’s wrong, pretty boy, what kinky shit has been happening between you and Seokjinnie?”

Jungkook grunts, his brow furrowing. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me, let’s worry about her,” he says, waving a hand at a softly whimpering Shayne.

“Right,” Taehyung hums thoughtfully. “Hi there, sweetheart,” he purrs. “You gave me a scare back there.” He brushes a hand over her cheek before sliding it up into her tangle of red curls. Shayne wiggles on the bed, her body seeking some sort of friction or relief. “Do you need me?”

Shayne stares into his dark eyes, remembering the piercing green they were when he was in his other form. His face is clean, with no black or red remnant marring his perfect features. “Please,” she moans, arching her back and making her nipples graze against his bare chest.

The smile that curls Taehyung lips elicits another moan from her. “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you naked in the bath after we brought you in. You’re so fiery, sweetheart, with those blazing eyes and that flaming hair. I want nothing more than to smother your fire,” one of his hands momentarily lands on her throat, giving it a light squeeze, “just so I can ignite it again.”

His words, albeit a little concerning, are oddly sweet and in high contrast to the brutality and curtness he’s shown her before. Taehyung has always had sharp edges and even sharper looks, sneers of disgust, or blatant indifference. Now, though, he’s showing a side to Shayne that she never would have thought he possessed. Shayne is faintly aware that all of this could be an illusion-based perception thanks to that injection of horniness Taehyung gave her. Either way, it feels nice, even if it’s a pseudo-experience.

Jungkook settles on the bed beside Shayne, his eyes locked on Taehyung’s lips as they press gentle kisses along her collarbone and down her sternum. Shayne arches her back again, seeking more but Taehyung just leans back and denies her more than the soft brush of his lips. “If you won’t touch me, get out of the way so Jungkook can,” she hisses, brow furrowed and teeth clenched as another wave of arousal radiates through her.

Taehyung tsks. “Fine, but only because I like how you sound when my mouth is on you.” She opens her mouth to berate him again but then he pressed the flat of his tongue against her clit, turning everything fuzzy.

“She’s sweet, right?” Jungkook muses lazily. He lounges back, hooking an arm behind his head and settling the other so he can fist a hand around his own arousal. “She makes the prettiest sounds when you deny her release, too.”

The hum of interest from Taehyung has a plea of denial coming from Shayne. “Please don’t, it hurts too much,” she whines, fisting a hand into Taehyung’s hair to hold him in place. He chuckles, sending gushes of his hot breath fanning over her aching core. He dives back in, sucking and licking with renewed vigor.

“Make her cum before Seokjin gets here,” Jungkook huffs. He gives his cock a few languid strokes, thumbing at the small beads of moisture he’s coaxing out. Even though he just came, he’s easily worked back up just by the sight of Shayne’s body displayed before him. He’s well and truly fucked for this silly little human, but that’s something he’ll worry about later.

Whether it’s the threat of Seokjin or just simply putting her out of her misery, Taehyung works a finger inside her and in tandem with his flicking tongue, wrings a shuddering orgasm from her a moment later.

Her fingers feel stiff with how hard they’re wrapped around a fistful of Taehyung’s hair. “Easy, sweetheart. You can drag me around by my hair another time, right now you should let me up so I can bury my cock into your pretty little pussy.”

With a frustrated sigh, Shayne releases her grip on Taehyung’s hair. Jungkook turns over and captures her scowling lips in a kiss. His tongue traces along her lips before pushing between them. Tiny prickles dance over her body. Each additional shift and brush against her skin elicits an uncontrolled shudder in response.

“Taehyungie’s going to make you feel really good,” Jungkook reassures between nipping kisses. Jungkook tastes like the mint paste Yoongi made her use, the cooling effect a welcome relief to how blistering she feels. Sweat pricks along her brow and she can feel the drips tracking along her temples and sliding into her hair.

Taehyung nudges the backs of her thighs with his knees, pushing them wider. Large, heavy palms rest against her hips; fingers pressing into the soft curves. Shayne can feel the heat radiating off Taehyung, his warmth adding to hers to create a hazy swath of heat.

“I’d take a picture of this if I wasn’t about to fucking lose it,” Taehyung murmurs as he presses his cock between her lower lips. He pulls back, lips tipping up into a sly grin, pupils blowing ever wider at the sight of Shayne’s glistening arousal coating his tip. “Jungkook, play with her clit, make her cum on my cock.”

Keeping his lips on Shayne, Jungkook moves a hand down her body, pinching and teasing until his deft fingers land right where requested. As Jungkook begins to strum and pluck his fingers, Taehyung presses forward. Shayne pants into Jungkook’s mouth, cries and moans muffled around his tongue. One of her hands flies up to bury into Jungkook’s hair and the other reaches down to grip one of Taehyung’s wrists.

With each inch Taehyung slides into her, Shayne feels her grip on reality slowly slipping. It feels like as soon as he’s completely seated she’ll explode into a cloud of mist and ether; his body is the only tether to her existence. It’s a welcomed ending, rupturing into a million tiny pieces, dissolving into a nebula of pleasure.

Shayne jerks so hard she dislodges Jungkook’s mouth and lets out an echoing cry of pleasure. Tears slip free from her eyes and mix with the sweat trickling into her hair. Her back arches off the bed and her body quakes with dozens of micro-orgasms, pulsing and contracting around Taehyung. His own stilted moan mixes with hers, fingers tightening and sure to leave bruises on her hips.

Jungkook keeps his fingers moving, sliding them down and around Taehyung’s cock, luxuriating in the slick combination of his smooth skin and the arousal from Shayne now coating it. “Get another one out of her,” he says, flexing his fingers around Taehyung’s shaft before moving them back to Shayne’s clit. “Fuck her until you cum.”

Taehyung grits his teeth and withdraws a fraction then surges in deep again. “You know,” he huffs, “for an omega, you’re awfully bossy in the bedroom.”

“If you’d rather not fill her tight cunt with your cum then fuck off and I’ll do it…again,” Jungkook deadpans, raising a skeptical brow.

“B-both of you—,” Shayne stutters out, the words hooked on a breathy moan, “—shut up. I d-don’t care w-who does what, I just need to cum or I swear I’ll die.”

Taehyung renews his efforts, swiveling his hips and undulating with the perfect rhythm to have Shayne breaching that precipice again quickly. She’s not sure she’s ever been thoroughly and completely ravaged before. But, she’s certain that’s exactly what Taehyung is doing. From the guttural grunts and the gnashing of his teeth, she gets her first real glimpse at the beast underneath his brooding facade. This is pure…raw. He’s relentless, pounding and chipping away at her sanity.

Through the haze of arousal, Shayne is vaguely aware of Taehyung and Jungkook counting out her orgasms as if the number is significant. The only thing she really and truly cares about is making the ache go away. It’s momentarily eased with each additional release, the line between pleasure and pain blurring after the seventh.

It must only be minutes—or perhaps hours— later that Taehyung finds his own release, emptying hot streams of cum deep inside her with a gravely snarl.

“Has anyone thought to give her anything to drink?” Seokjin’s melodic voice edges through Shayne’s head fog.

Taehyung eases away from Shayne, his cock pulling free in a gush as he reclines back on his hands. “Drink?” he parrots. “Can’t say I thought about that.”

Jungkook gives a disgruntled harrumph, absently patting his hand on Shayne’s thigh before pushing up from the bed. “I was getting there but Taehyung came in and well, we got a little distracted.”

“Mhm, sure.” Seokjin rolls his eyes as he steps into the room and lets the door fall shut behind him. “How are you doing, beautiful? These two idiots taking care of you alright?”

Shayne whimpers, shifting on the bed and reaching a trembling hand out to him. “Please,” she mumbles.

Seokjin tuts softly. “Can’t trust them to do anything.” He kneels on the bed and gathers Shayne into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She writhes in his lap, shamelessly seeking relief.

Jungkook opens a rectangular chest near his desk and grabs a few clear bottles from inside. “Don’t even start with that, Seokjin. You’re just being an asshole right now.” He hands over a bottle to Seokjin who opens it and offers it to Shayne. She sips gratefully, sucking down as much of the cool water as she can.

“Messy girl,” Seokjin coos, thumbing a few errant drops that escaped down her chin. “Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick.”

Shayne tries to take smaller swallows but now that she’s drinking she realizes just how thirsty she is. “Thank you,” she says between sips, handing off the empty bottle once she’s done.

Taehyung is sitting with his back against the wall beside Seokjin, with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. “She needs to be fucked again,” he finally says. “You can take a turn, Seokjin.”

Seokjin’s body stiffens under her for a moment before he relaxes and gives Taehyung a syrupy, saccharine smile. “That almost sounds like you’re giving me permission, Taehyungie.”

Shayne catches the way Jungkook’s eyes go wide as they swivel between Taehyung and Seokjin like he’s anticipating what will happen next. Seokjin smoothes a hand over Shayne’s hip, letting his long fingers mold around the curves and dips until he slides it between her thighs to gently strum over her clit. He keeps his eyes trained on Taehyung as he offers her barely enough to take the edge off.

“Seokjin, please,” she mewls. Her thighs press open, offering him more access that he ignores.

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure Taehyungie understands the ground rules for being in bed with me and Jungkookie tonight. It’s funny to think in all the years we’ve been here together this is the first time it’s just the three of us. Normally, Jimin runs interference…and well, if he knew what was about to happen he might have something to say about it.”

The way Seokjin says that feels ominous to Shayne. Curiosity wars with the arousal simmering under her skin. She sighs contentedly and tries to suppress a soft moan when Seokin’s fingers dip further to tease around her entrance before moving back to stroke her clit.

“Ground rules?” Taehyung asks, smirking. “Do I have to call you daddy or something? That seems more like Namjoon’s shtick than yours, but I can be persuaded maybe.”

Jungkook curls his lips between his teeth to keep from laughing. “Jungkook,” Seokjin snaps, voice firm and commanding. “Don’t think I missed that. How about we demonstrate for Taehyung?” Jungkook audibly swallows and nods his head. “Good boy. Now, I want your pretty little ass in the air and your tongue fucking our sweet girl.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Jungkook immediately responds and moves to position himself on the bed.

Taehyung balks, completely bewildered. “Alpha?” he whispers.

“That’s right, Taehyungie. In here, I’m the Alpha and you and Jungkookie are my obedient little pups.” Jungkook thrusts his ass into the air, grapples his hands between Shayne’s thighs, and pushes them open. He admires the glistening swell of her sex and the slender, long fingers still rubbing her clit, for a moment before burying his face against her heat and pushing his tongue forward to swirl inside.

Shayne gasps and throws her head back against Seokjin’s shoulder, letting out a throaty moan. “Oh, fuck!”

“If you have a problem with that, you can leave right now.” Seokjin’s voice is cold, indifferent, as he stares down at Taehyung.

Taehyung licks his lips, contemplating the offer. His eyes rove over the scene before him, taking in the submissive position Jungkook is in and the way Shayne is nuzzling against Seokjin’s throat and leaving crescent-shaped indents on his forearms with her nails.

A low rumble comes from deep in Taehyung’s chest. As a beta, he cares less about the primal designations than some of the others. But, as a vampire, he can empathize. They all already had an alpha-like complex because of their vampirism, but after the experiments, it altered the natural hierarchy within their bodies. He can instantly understand where this drive comes from in Seokjin. Though, it’s not something he’s ever considered for himself. That the natural vampire inside them all, that apex predator, would always want to dominate over everything…even the genetic designation of omega that Seokjin ended up with all those years ago.

“Does he ever…y’know?” Taehyung asks, nodding to Jungkook lapping away between Shayne’s thighs, ass periodically wiggling in the air. The sight has Taehyung’s cock jerking where it lays against his thigh.

The smile that graces Seokjin’s lips this time is purely coy charisma. “Once, but he doesn’t get off on it as I do. Now, I’m going to ask you again…do you have a problem with this?”

Taehyung tongues the corner of his mouth, absently bringing a hand down to give his half-hard cock a gentle tug. “Are you going to fuck me in the ass?”

Seokjin barks a laugh. “No.” Taehyung purses his lips and narrows his eyes with irritation but Seokjin continues with a placating statement, “At least, not this time, sweet boy. You have to earn my cock. If you’re good this time and do as you’re told then I’ll reward you the next time you want to crawl into bed with me.”

“N-need to cum,” Shayne interrupts with a whine against Seokjin’s neck. “Please, stop teasing me.”

“Give our girl what she needs, pup. Then, I’ll give you what you need.” Jungkook makes a satisfied sound and a moment later Shayne cries out, thrashing in Seokjin’s lap. He pets a hand down her hair, shh’ing and cooing until she jerks from overstimulation as Jungkook continues to kiss and suck. “Taehyung. I need you to say it.”

The room is silent, except for the heavy breathing coming from Shayne and the smacking wet sounds escaping from around Jungkook’s tongue, as Taehyung makes up his mind.

“Okay, Alpha,” he finally says, emphasizing the designation and relinquishing control out of pure curiosity and the desire to see Shayne through the rest of her spell with Flux. The grip on his beast relents a fraction, allowing his naturally piny scent to mingle in the air with Jungkook’s honeyed arousal.

“Perfect,” Seokjin crows with delight. “Jungkook, enough.”

Jungkook immediately pulls away, sitting back on his haunches. His eyes are big and round, glazed over with arousal. His cock stands up straight against his stomach, glistening smears of precum trailing over his thighs and abs.

“How long does this Flux bullshit last?” Shayne mumbles in frustration. The heat licking between her thighs is wildly battling with the ache of pain she can feel seeping deep into her muscles. “I hurt,” she adds with a whine as she cups a hand tenderly over her swollen lower lips.

“With the dose you needed? It could last all night,” Taehyung says, moving to kneel beside her. His eyes focus on her hand and the glistening mess covering her thighs. Cum mixes with saliva, thoroughly coating her lower half. “But, it grows less potent as time passes.”

Seokjin hums in agreement. He passes Shayne over to Taehyung, being sure she settles softly into his lap. “We’ll go gentle for a bit, let your body rest while still giving you the pleasure you need to avoid the ache brought on by the Flux,” he explains as he reaches down beside the bed and retrieves a small wooden box.

Taehyung gathers Shayne’s unruly curls into a fist, exposing her neck and shoulders so he can press featherlight kisses to her heated skin. Each press of his mouth has her body responding, small tremors that cascade down around where his other hand cups over hers still between her thighs.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before, beautiful?” Seokjin asks when he settles back on the bed. His eyes sparkle as they meet her half-lidded ones. Shayne gives a small jerk of her chin. A momentary pang of sadness over Warren breaks through the haze from the Flux. She squashes it down immediately, not wanting to mix memories of Warren with what's going on here. “You’re going to suck mine and get me ready to destroy this little pup's pert ass.” Seokjin fists a hand into Jungkook’s hair, earning him a grunt from the Omega.

Seokjin is still dressed. Taehyung helps guide Shayne forward onto her knees, his hands keeping a grip on her hips to keep her from listing sideways. With fumbling fingers, Shayne snags and pulls at Seokjin’s clothes until she has his shirt off and his bottoms tangled around his knees. He sighs in satisfaction when she wraps a hand around his base and gives a none-too-gentle squeeze.

“Seokjinnie.” Jungkook winces when the hand in his hair tightens.

“Be patient, pup,” Seokjin admonishes. “Our beautiful girl needs to make sure I’m good and wet. You’ll get my knot soon, don’t worry.” He uses his free hand to open the small box he retrieved and pulls out a thick, circular band with a bulging lump on one side.

“What’s that?” Taehyung asks, nodding toward the ring in Seokjin’s hand.

“This is—oh, fuck that’s good,” Seokjin sucks in a breath, his words choking off as Shayne envelopes the head of his cock with her mouth. “It’s a modified cock ring,” he finally manages to get out with a soft moan. “Wow. I think you suck dick better than Hoseok.”

Shayne assumes that’s a compliment, so rewards Seokjin with an enthusiastic suck, hollowing her cheeks and taking him into the back of her throat. “Damn,” Taehyung mutters, a lopsided grin sliding onto his face. “So, it’s like an Alpha’s knot?”

“Precisely. Now, be a good boy and help me make a Shayne and Jungkookie sandwich. I want them front to front, you take her from behind. Jungkookie, I want her nipples rosy, plump, and aching, do you understand?”

Taehyung pulls Shayne back and she slides off of Seokjin’s cock with an audible pop. Saliva strings between the blushing tip and her swollen lips before breaking and falling against her chin. “Come on, up you go, sweetheart,” Taehyung eases Shayne back until she’s resting against his chest and her’s is nearly pressed against Jungkook’s.

Shayne watches in fascination as Seokjin manhandles and maneuvers Jungkook to his liking. The younger male is completely at his mercy, thoroughly debauched to the point his weeping cock jerks and throbs with every touch from Seokjin. Without thinking, Shayne reaches forward to grab it, wanting to offer him some relief in exchange for the relief he provided her earlier.

“Ah-uh,” Seokjin snaps, halting her hand just inches away from its destination. “He doesn’t get any relief until I say he does. Is that clear, beautiful?” The look in Seokjin’s eye sends shivers down Shayne’s back. She nods, retracting her hand. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes…?” Seokjin prompts, raising an eyebrow.

Shayne’s brow furrows in return. “Yes…Alpha?”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises. “Do you still need relief?”

The idea of receiving another orgasm has her body revving into overdrive. “Yes, please, Alpha.”

“Taehyung,” Seokjin says his name like he’s giving permission. Taehyung takes his time in notching his head at Shayne’s entrance, completely transfixed on Seokjin slipping on the cock ring and securing it around the base of his shaft and balls. The rigid knot tapers off gently in a slope to either side.

There is a moment when Shayne feels tethered to Jungkook. He grabs at her hands and entwines his fingers with hers, squeezing in a way that relays emotions beyond words. As Taehyung begins to press his hard length into her body, the rigidity of Jungkook’s fingers around hers has her practically feeling the way Seokjin invades his body, too.

Jungkook gasps, jerking in Seokjin’s hold. His open mouth presses against Shayne’s chest, nuzzling until his lips clamp around one of her pebbled nipples. The added sensation melts into the buzz coming from between her thighs, coalescing into a gradient wash of heightened pleasure.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Taehyung murmurs against the nape of Shayne’s neck. His mouth waters as he feels the erratic beat of her pulse thrum against his lips. He inhales deeply, dragging in the sweet scent of her hair mixed with the light tang of sweat.

The heady honey scent from Jungkook blooms again in the air, cloyingly sweet as Seokjin finally bottoms out. It blends with the pretty lilac scent wafting from Seokjin. Adding Taehyung’s own subtle piny scent, Jungkook’s room quickly begins to smell like a spring meadow in the mountains.

“I forget how much I love your scent, Taehyungie,” Seokjin pants between skin-slapping thrusts.

Jungkook clings to Shayne; lips and tongue ravaging her breasts as much as Seokjin is ravaging his ass. Her nipples throb as he continues to follow Seokjin’s instruction to make them rosy and aching. Each time Taehyung fucks into her from behind, he forces her against Jungkook’s open mouth.

“Fuck!” Shayne cries as an extra brutal thrust from Taehyung causes her nipple to catch against one of Jungkook’s lower teeth. The skin parts easily, emitting a thin trickle of blood right onto Jungkook’s tongue.

Jungkook grunts, his body taut and trembling from the sudden rush of sweetness on his tongue. “Mm,” Seokjin groans. “Don’t get carried away, Jungkookie, it’s not playtime right now. Be good for me and close that up.”

Shayne arches her back, pressing her breast more firmly against Jungkook’s mouth. The feel of his mouth on her, suckling at the tendril of blood, it’s such a stark contrast to how it felt to have Namjoon take her blood at the dining table. This is…erotic and addicting. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, trying to shake her hands from his so she can latch them into his hair and hold him to her.

“Do it now, pup,” Seokjin’s voice is a low snarl that has Jungkook immediately swiping his tongue over the small cut and sealing it.

Taehyung and Seokjin work together to pry Jungkook and Shayne apart. “Blood lust,” Taehyung breathily laughs, working his hips faster. He bands an arm around Shayne’s middle and holds her to him as he pounds up into her, making her cry out in pleasure. “Been a while since we dealt with that.”

A sadistic smile twists at Seokjin’s lips before he nods. “Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “Namjoon won’t be thrilled but at this point, his dick is so dusty he shouldn’t get a say in what we do with ours.” He emphasizes his words with thrusts, battering into Jungkook so hard the younger male goes slack-jawed. “All three of you are doing so well. Are you ready to cum?”

“Fuck, it’s actually kind of hot the way you talk like that,” Taehyung grunts. “Just say the word and I’ll fill our pretty girl up again.”

Shayne has been riding the edge of orgasm ever since Jungkook’s tooth caught her nipple. The burn under her skin isn’t nearly as consuming as it was before but there is still a final leap she can feel pulling her tight. “Please,” she sobs.

“Jungkookie, show them how pretty you are when you cum on my knot.” Seokjin grips tightly onto Jungkook’s hips and grinds into him from behind. Jungkook’s eyes flash yellow in the overhead light before he’s arching back and yelling curses at the ceiling. His cock jerks, untouched, sending streamers of hot cum roping across Shayne’s stomach and hips.

“Suck on her clit, Jungkook,” Taehyung says, his voice trembling between a command and a question. He glances at Seokjin to make sure he hasn’t crossed a line. Seokjin just smiles in approval, helping Jungkook edge forward, still caught on the pseudo knot.

As soon as Jungkook’s lips latch onto her swollen clit, Shayne shatters. “Fuck!” The orgasm rips through her, devouring her sanity. Pinpricks of color dance behind her eyelids where she has them squeezed shut. Her body shudders against Taehyung and her walls clamp and pulse, triggering his own release. Warmth gushes between her thighs as cum seeps out around Taehyung’s thrusting cock.

Residual tremors twitch through her limbs as Taehyung gently extracts himself and helps her lay down on her side. “We are in serious trouble if phase two is successful.” The words are whispered against Shayne’s shoulder as Taehyung runs his fingers through the cum coating her thighs and gently presses it back inside her. He scoops up more and repeats the process. “I don’t know if I can fuck you and not fill you up after experiencing this.” That tickles a mild awareness in the back of Shayne’s mind, but she’s too blissed out to form words of inquiry.

Seokjin cradles Jungkook against his chest, murmuring soft words that Shayne can’t hear into his ear. The dreamy smile on Jungkook’s face has her own soft smile etching across her dry lips. “A warm cloth, please, Taehyung,” Seokjin says as he finally releases Jungkook, letting the other Omega cuddle into Shayne.

Taehyung presses a quick kiss into Shayne’s curls before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. Seokjin helps Shayne and Jungkook take a few swallows of water from a bottle he grabs out of Jungkook’s cold box.

“What is that?” Shayne murmurs, blinking her eyes sleepily up at Seokjin as she fights the sudden wash of exhaustion. She gestures vaguely in the direction of Jungkook’s desk.

“It’s a refrigerator. Made for keeping things cold. You’ve heard of them?”

“Mmm,” she agrees softly. Heard of them, yes. Though the idea of a metal box keeping something indefinitely cold is still hard to grasp.

“It’s really a wonder,” Seokjin muses softly, delicately twining one of her fiery curls around a finger. “You’re so exquisite yet you baffle my mind something fierce. You’re the first low-spectrum ticket we’ve ever had for an extended period of time.”

Taehyung returns a moment later with warm, damp washcloths. He works with Seokjin to clean Jungkook and Shayne up before cleaning himself. After disposing of the cloths into a basket of dirty laundry, he settles back on the bed behind Shayne.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung catches Seokjin’s eye over Jungkook’s shoulder. “So, this Alpha thing,” he begins, “I get it. I know it’s a little different, being a Beta isn’t nearly as different as being an Omega, at least from what you guys have told me, but I think I can understand it.”

Seokjin makes a noncommittal sound. “We discovered it by accident, the night Namjoon announced his knot hiatus. Jungkook was feeling a certain way and Jimin had to go off on that run up the northern ridge. One thing led to another and yeah.” He shrugs but there is a slight reddening to his cheeks.

“Should I start calling you Alpha when we’re alone? Whisper it sweetly in your ear?”

“Fuck off,” Seokjin laughs. “No one else knows about this. As often as we’ve all fucked or been in the same room fucking, this is really just a thing between me and Jungkookie. I’m not sure what made me offer to let you join in tonight—” his eyes drift down to the fiery swath of curls Jungkook has his nose buried in “—but I’m somehow at peace with it.”

Taehyung gives a knowing nod, following Seokjin’s gaze. “How are you feeling now, sweetheart?”

Shayne thinks for a moment, assessing her body. Aside from the pleasant ache between her thighs and the smarting, yet faint, sting still lingering on her nipples, she feels fine—finally. “I think the Flux is done,” she states softly. “I’m sore, but no more than I think I’d usually be after several hours of fucking.”

The crassness of her words, despite their near whisper, surprises even her. Seokjin snorts a laugh. “Have much experience with several hours of fucking, do you? Wait, don’t answer that. Jungkook can get awfully jealous.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook mumbles, his words half-muted by how his face is pressed into her hair.

“I’m just teasing, Jungkookie.” Seokjin clears his throat. “I know tonight didn’t quite go as planned thanks to a certain asshole, but thank you nonetheless for indulging in me tonight. I know you wanted to be with Shayne and I could have let you do it without the condition but it’s been a while and well…” he trails off, suddenly unsure of where he was going with that.

Jungkook shifts, peeking up at Seokjin. “You know I like it as much as you do, even if you do leave my ass sorer than that one time Jimin and Yoongi tried to—“

“Let’s not talk about that,” Taehyung laughs, cutting off Jungkook. “I still get flashbacks of trying to sew shit back together like a medic in a war zone.”

“Taehyung is right. Plus, I don’t know that our sweet Shayne needs to hear about that after tonight. Maybe another night, when she’s not already half into dreamland.” Seokjin pats Jungkook on the hip. “Let’s get some sleep. Yoongi should have some answers in the morning. Namjoon will want a full report and debrief first thing.”

As curious as Shayne is, Seokjin’s right. Their voices are already turning into a muddied slur of sounds. There’s something she wants to think about, something that was said but she can’t seem to filter through the recent conversation with any clarity. The niggling is still there, a worry that she can’t placate, as consciousness slips away.

Next Chapter⇾ **coming soon** ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list  

◅ Back to Master List ©️       2021-22   ColorMePurplex2

[herarcadewasteland]

Curious, Darling?

A/: Many many hugs and boops to the lovely @kookslastbutton for their page title and giving me the go-ahead to write a Taehyung fic inspired by it and dedicated to it! ♥

-office!au, enemies to lovers (ish...)

-Slightly Yandere!Kim Taehyung x Reader

It's decidley a little messy and fast but its 2am and my brain was working too fast.

JK Ver. Yoongi Ver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stalking through the halls, you seethed. His carefree laughter echoed through your head as you turned corners with the result of Taehyung's latest prank cradled in your trembling arms. You had been going back and forth with Taehyung since highschool, the pranks gaining him popularity and causing you to lose friends. It had taken a large turn when you had both graduated college and got accepted into one of the biggest companies with him standing at your side, smug smirk in place as it always was when he regarded you. The pranks you exchanged slowly ramped up until you dyed and cut his hair when he was out cold after a night of drinking. He had gone way too far this time though, the prank exceeding the worst you had pulled on him, which was the hair thing although he managed to make it look sexy just as he did everything else. 

Walking into your office this morning, you were sipping your favourite drink and wearing your best shirt for the presentation when your eyes landed on the colour-coded pile of that same presentation in rips all around the room, the spray painted ‘V’ on your office window causing you to drop your cup in shock. The two of you had done many many things to each other in the form of pranks, but ruining work projects that had taken a year to perfect and create… it was the last prank you would accept. So here you were, storming past concerned co-workers with your project in your arms as you set out for the man himself. 

His laugh guided you straight to him as you shouldered through the meeting room door,

“KIM TAEHYUNG.”

Conversation stopped as did his laughter as your anger cut through it all, heads turning to observe your red face and furrowed brows as you glared at Taehyung with the heat of hell in your eyes. You made eye contact with everyone but him, each person taking the hint and shuffling out of the conference room until you were left with the culprit. An angry huff left you as you dropped your armful of your ripped project on the table in front of him as he sat with his ankle resting on his knee, hand rubbing his lips as he watched you carefully. 

“What the fuck is this?! This was for today! You knew it was for today and so did everyone else! So pray tell, why the fuck is my project in shreds with your fucking penname sprayed on my windows! There is no one, and I mean no-one else that would’ve done this.”

His huffed laugh broke you from your angry arrangement of the pieces sitting before you, your head snapped up to face him as he leaned back further into his wheeled chair. Was he infuriatingly hot and causing conflicting emotions as he stared you down through hooded eyes? Abso-fucking-lutely. That didn’t stop you from rounding the table in anger, his chair turning with you as you approached. 

“Something wrong?”

You scowled as you took the last steps towards him, his head tilting up slightly to watch your face for emotion as he licked his lips slowly. Your anger won over any arousal you were feeling because of him and his stupidly perfect face, your hands pushing roughly into his solid chest. The scrape of the chair wheels making you smirk as he rolled back into the wall from the force of your shove. His eyebrows raised in surprise as you approached him again, his hands resting on the arms as he pushed himself from the chair. He was taller than you, that was for sure, but being stronger than people gave you credit for allowing you the element of surprise. So you took that last step, staring into his hypnotizing chocolate eyes as you shoved him back a step.

“Say you did it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, he smirks. 

He fucking smirked at you when his penname was in orange paint on your windows. Your face heated with rage as he tilted his head at you, his fluffy hair gently framing his darkened eyes as you landed a hard punch to his chest. Taehyung huffed as the air left him, your eyes widening as he barely reacted before a hand grasped your own. You gasped as he tugged you around him and into the chair he was previously occupying, your hands finding the armrests as he leaned over you, his large hands caging your own on the chairs arms. 

“You know exactly what you did, Kim Taehyung. You’ve gone too far.”

“Oh no, have I gone too far? Let me rectify my wrongs against poor little you immediately.”

His tone was clear and enraged you further. He had the gall to mock you when you no longer had a presentation for a promotion you had been waiting for for years now. You wrestled your hand from under his, a sharp clap echoing around you as Taehyung's head snapped to the side. The shock he showed allowed you a window to push him away and escape the room with your precious shards of presentation. He would get it now. You just had to figure out how you would go about it.

—-------

Taehyung's misdeed was over a week ago now. He had gotten the promotion because you had no presentation. Now, he had power over you. A larger, secured office and even a secretary that rumours had started round saying he fucked her in the mens washroom one lunch break. Now it was much harder for you to enact your plan. Distracting Elizabeth was easy enough, all you had to do was tell her that Park was waiting for her in conference room 38 and off she went. Taehyung was supposed to be in a big meeting so all you had to do was look for a spare key and then lock the door behind you to cover your tracks. Easy enough. The key was in an unlocked drawer in Elizabeth’s desk, hidden away under the schedule folder you had gathered your copy of Taehyung’s from. Opening the door to his office with a relieved sigh, you shut the heavy door as quietly as you could, your eyes scanning the office as soon as the door was locked behind you. 

Files scattered over his desk, his laptop open and running, his windows curtained and opened slightly to let in the breeze you could only get on the 77th floor. Rushing over to his clearly organized mess, you leafed through the many documents, your eyes darting from the papers to the door as your hands trembled. All you needed was his budget request. Then you could fuck him over like he fucked you over. It was simple. Find the page, search his laptop for the unfilled form and replace his numbers with lower ones. While it could jeopardize your job, he would be at fault for submitting low numbers for his request. 

“Yes! Finally!”, you pulled the sheet from its spot frantically.

Stepping over to his laptop, you searched the systems for the sheet when you had an even better idea. Turning back to the files, you failed to hear the door opening and closing, his light steps approaching you as you made a mess of his desk. He sat and watched you search through the papers with a smirk as he leaned against the wall across from you, your gaze laser focused on the things in-front of you. Finding the new page, you smirked, unknowing of the danger you had put yourself in. 

“Curious, darling?”, his deep voice made your heart stop as his hand ghosted over your shoulder. He had managed to make it across the entire office to stand behind you and you hadn’t even noticed. That was a kind of embarrassing you never thought you’d feel. But here you were, feeling it and Taehyung’s hand as it crawled across your collarbone smoothly to wrap around your neck. 

“Taehyu-”, you gasped before his hand tightened around your neck, cutting off your words. 

“We’ve been at this for years. Years, Y/N. Isn’t it about time to accept that you’ll never best me at our pranks?”

You shook your head, hand wrapping around his as you turned in your spot to face him. His fluffy brown hair fell into his sharp eyes as he watched you take in the position. Your back against his desk, his hand around your neck, basically holding your own hand at the same time. He corralled you further into his desk, his free hand drawing distracting circles on your side as you watched him carefully.

“I’ll beat you this time. You won’t win.”

His laugh washed across your face, mint greeting your sense as he chewed on nothing with a confident smirk. You were sure you would beat him. You had to. It was one of your last motivations to not hand in your resignation and join Jeon Industries instead of staying under Min Corporations. 

“You’ve already lost. So when will you notice how much I love you, darling?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, his hand leaving your neck to trace your cheekbone and run lightly over your parted lips. 

“Wha-”, you cleared your throat of the shock blocking it, “What do you mean, Taehyung? You don’t love me. You’ve shown me so many times you hate me. You ripped up my presentation!”

He nodded casually, hand playing with a stray bundle of hair that had fallen from your messy ponytail during your search for revenge. 

“I did. But we’ve been doing this for years. Do you not remember the times I would leave you notes in your locker in high school, telling you how I felt?”

“Those were anonymous, how was I supposed to know that was you?! I thought that was Hoseok! Or maybe even Seokjin… I- why?”

“What do you mean why? You’re perfect for me. I’m perfect for you. I read your diary when I was in your office that week. I know what you think of me.”, his breath tickled your ear as he leaned in to whisper his last secret to you.

“Why would you… That's supposed to be private!”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone how much my voice turns you on�� or how much you daydream about fucking me seven days a week and telling me you love me.”

Your face heated with a blush as he chuckled in your ear, his voice deepened further as he pushed his body against yours further. His hands guided you into comfort as he whispered random compliments into your ear, your eyes closing as you thought about it all. 

“At least let me take you on a date. Just one for now, if you like it, leave your number on my desk the day after. If not, just tell me to fuck off and I’ll leave you alone until you accept your feelings towards me. Sounds fair?”

You nodded slowly, his hands circling you in a gentle hug as he hummed in content. It couldn’t be the worst thing in the world, a little harrowing at times you were sure, but overall it could be worth losing your revenge. So you melted into the hug with a sigh as he laughed about something in his head.

You’d see in the week after the incident that it really wasn’t that bad as he fed you sushi from his plate while you traded for pieces you liked and he didn’t. Sipping on boba while the sun set on the horizon over the clear blue waters of the beach afterwards. Maybe you didn’t get the promotion that would change your life, but marrying Kim Taehyung in the following years was definitely more than enough to make up for it all.

[bts-fic-collection]

Stop copying me! by vminhoes

Rating: E

Pairing: Taehyung/Jimin

Status: Complete

Word count: 12,387

Summary:

After getting off on the wrong foot at Coachella, beloved influencers Yoongi and Taehyung declare an immediate rivalry, and each devise their own plan to enact revenge on the other.

The only problem is that they create the same plan, and it inadvertently results in everyone assuming they’re dating.

[clockworkrosea]

911, what’s your emergency? | series masterlist

→ summary: your rise and fall as the korean national police agency’s best investigator, and the role that 8 people play in it. as they say, the higher you rise, the harder you fall. 

→ pairings: jeon jungkook/you, kim namjoon/oc

→ series warnings: mentions of blood, death, murder, torture, the mafia, explosions, the works. 

→ genre: heavy angst, hurt/no comfort?, mafia au, second person pov, slow burn, enemies to lovers

→ a/n: we run it back!! i’m not really into bts anymore but i really do love the premise of this story and i wanted to rewrite some of it now that i have more time (a lie) and more experience (a truth) under my belt. it holds the same core premise but storylines are actually planned out and it’s going to be second person (no y/n, basically). hope u like :) 

i. no angels left to save. 

  → you’ve fought long and hard, but that doesn’t make you any better than the rest. 

ii. leave nothing to chance. 

  → and thus, you begin your investigation into the kingpins of the korean underground.

iii. in the eye of the storm. 

  → an explosive encounter marks the first confrontation.

iv. if these walls could talk. 

  → in the silence, the ghosts of the past return to haunt you.

v. let the choir bells ring. 

  → the city lights up purple as police sirens ring through korea. 

vi. girls talk and criminals walk.

  → you can't pass up the chance to meet with the most dangerous woman in korea.

vii. know what you follow.

  → the blowback of yesterday's events come quickly.

viii. now you see me.

  → you catch wind of plans for the heist of the century.

ix. paid good money.

  → the underground's entertainment scene roars with new life.

x. mo cuishle.

  → a failed sting operation brings you back to your roots, whether you want it or not.

to be cont. 

[jemshopes]

You Haunt Me || Taekook

--Taekook historical au

-- mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers.

Jungkook is a prince of a prosperous kingdom and has been betrothed to wed a beautiful princess from a foreign land. But when he meets her he can’t help his eyes from wandering to her brother, Taehyung, the newly crowned king, who stands hand in hand with his own beautiful wife. 

Just picture this. There's rumours of a war brewing in the west. Taehyung is the new king of a very powerful kingdom in the wake of his father (the old king) passing away. Jungkook is the prince of a much smaller kingdom that wants to make an alliance with Taehyung to protect themselves in case a war does break out, and it just so happens Taehyung is now in charge of marrying his sister off. Honestly I’m kind of thinking like almost a Bridgerton Edwina, Kate and Anthony situation. 

From the moment Jungkook and Tae first see each other they’re both very hot and bothered, and Jungkook is terrible at hiding it and he thinks Taehyung hates him because Taehyung is always so reserved and cold towards him or just a bit rude.

Jungkook has never particularly kicked up a fuss about having to have an arranged marriage. He knows it's his duty as a prince and as the future king. But when he sees Taehyung it just changes everything. Jungkook cannot stop thinking about him and when Taehyung acts so cold towards him it devastates Jungkook. Because he’s trying so hard to get to know his future brother-in-law, he’s trying so hard to feign interest in Taehyung's sister. She's a lovely person and he genuinely enjoys talking to her. Perhaps if Taehyung did not exist he could even one day fall in love with her—Jungkook is no stranger to finding both men and women attractive—but Taehyung does exist. Taehyung has a wife, also a wonderful person. Jungkook just needs Taehyung to treat him kindly because he cannot bear the thought of Taehyung hating him for some unknown reason on top of everything else. Perhaps if Taehyung did not treat him so coldly then Jungkook's feelings for him would not feel so strong. 

He snaps one evening after several failed attempts to engage Taehyung in conversation.

He found him in the palace library and it was just the two of them. and Jungkook had drunk just enough wine at dinner to be brave enough to blurt, “Did I do something to offend you? Please, if I do, tell me and I shall make it right. I would hate for there to be any animosity between us given that we are to be family.” 

Taehyung looks at him with an unreadable expression. The same unreadable expression that has been driving Jungkook crazy for several weeks now. 

“You have not offended me,” he says simply, and goes back to his book.

“Then why do you treat me so coldly?” Jungkook asks, wanting to rip the book from Taehyung’s hands (and quite possibly rip Tae’s clothes from his body). 

“I do not treat you coldly,” Taehyung says, standing and heading towards the door. “I treat everyone this way. Goodnight.” 

But Jungkook finds himself following Taehyung down the palace corridors. “I do not believe you. I have seen you smile at my mother, my father, your sister. You have smiled at the servants. You have never smiled at me.” 

“Perhaps it is a coincidence?”

“It is not! Please tell me what I did wrong!” 

“You have done nothing wrong.” 

“I must have!” 

“I do not know what you want me to say. Perhaps you would prefer that I lie and say you have?” Taehyung sounds irritable now, but he doesn’t stop walking and he doesn’t look back.

“I would prefer the truth,” Jungkook huffs. “How can you let your sister marry someone who you seem to despise? Are you so cold hearted that—“

Taehyung rounds on him, eyes burning. “Let us say for a moment that I do despise you,” he says in a deadly whisper, taking a step so close that it forces Jungkook to move backwards. “Do you really think accusing me of being heartless and hounding me as I make my way to bed will change my mind about you?”

Jungkook's back hits the wall and he finds himself gazing into Taehyung's eyes. They’re much too close. Taehyung isn’t moving. They’re both breathing hard. Jungkook’s mind empties of words even though he knows he’s supposed to be answering Taehyung’s question. He stares at Taehyung’s lips and it seems Taehyung stands there for an eternity, the animosity in his eyes fading little by little as they search Jungkook's. 

He steps away from Jungkook hastily when footsteps echo from around the corner, and Jungkook finds himself breathless and alone in the dark.

From there I picture many more arguments and much more heavy breathing and getting a liiiitle bit too close. Jungkook doesn’t feel like he can let himself kiss taehyung because, 1. Tae is married, and 2. Jungkook is supposed to be marrying Tae's sister in about a month.

Taehyung is obviously treating Jungkook coldly because Taehyung finds him very attractive and he can’t be with him because he’s just arranged for his sister to marry Jungkook. Even though his sister has expressed multiple times that she doesn’t particularly want to marry Jungkook, Taehyung still can’t act on his feelings because the marriage is still taking place for political reasons. Taehyung has the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders and he’s drowning under the pressure a little bit. a lot. 

This is what first brings him and Jungkook closer together, and begins to build a mutual understanding and friendship between them. Taehyung receives a message from back home with bad news—rebellions in his own kingdom, against a law he had put in place. He receives it during evening drinks and excuses himself to read it. 

Jungkook excuses himself too because he’s nosy, and he finds Tae having a panic attack of sorts. And he really sees a different side of Taehyung that evening, a vulnerable side. Taehyung is barely a man and he doesn’t know how to rule a kingdom. He tells Jungkook everything he’s been struggling with in a hushed voice as they sit on one of the palace balconies. 

“I have been trained for this my entire life, but no amount of training can truly prepare anyone. I only wish my father were not dead. He was not a good man, but if he were here then I would not have to do all of this.” 

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Jungkook asks quietly. 

Taehyung shrugs. “Because you found me out here. Because I have not told a soul any of my troubles since I was crowned king. Because I do not want you to think that I despise you. I would not have chosen you for my sister if I thought you were not a decent person, although I must admit, hearing rumours that you have a preference for men did make me hesitate in my decision.”

It's a bold thing to say. It catches Jungkook off guard. “I… I…” 

“We all have our preferences,” Taehyung says, gazing at the palace gardens far below them. “I would not begrudge any man his. It is only that I would not want my sister to marry a man who could never love her.”

“My preference is for both men and women,” Jungkook admits. It's the first time he’s told anyone. Most likely the only time he ever will. It’s foolish to tell Taehyung, given that liking men is hardly smiled upon.

“So you will love my sister then?” Taehyung asks the question so earnestly that all Jungkook can do is nod. Of course he will. That is their arrangement. “I would like us to be friends,” Taehyung breathes. “Enough of this animosity between us.”

“I would like that too,” Jungkook says softly. 

Their hands touch in the darkness and neither of them pull away, both pretending no touch is taking place. 

“Friends it is then,” Taehyung says. 

“Yes. Friends.”

But friendship does nothing to satiate his desire, which only seems to grow by the day. He keeps Taehyung’s secret, that he is floundering and has no idea what he is doing as his kingdom's new ruler, and Taehyung keeps his. Taehyung even confides in him that the only reason he and his sister came three months before the wedding was due to take place is because Taehyung just wanted to escape from being king for a little while. At least being away he can delegate most of the decisions to his advisors and can lounge and walk in the gardens. 

Their first kiss happens in a feverish fumbling of hands and teeth and lips, in the dark of the gardens where they had decided to take an evening stroll after dinner. Jungkook had tried to offer to take Taehyung’s sister for a walk, but she had declined saying she was too tired, and Taehyung had volunteered in her stead. Jungkook isn’t quite sure how the kiss happens. One minute they’re laughing, the next he’s being pressed against the rough trunk of a tree, moaning softly into Taehyung's mouth. 

They break apart abruptly, Jungkook shoving Taehyung back, both horrified.

“I am to marry your sister!” Jungkook hisses, fingers pressed to his lips. “You are married!” 

“A mistake,” Taehyung breathes. “Too much wine. We were not thinking clearly.” 

“We were not,” Jungkook says, smoothing his hair and rumpled shirt. He's burning all over. “Let us not… let us not speak of this again. It never happened.” 

“What never happened?” Taehyung asks, too shakily to truly make the joke funny. 

“Exactly. We are friends. Nothing more.” 

“Nothing more.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Exactly.”

If only it were that easy. They part that night without exchanging another word, but when Jungkook goes to bed he can’t rid himself of the memory of Taehyung’s lips on his. And over the next few days he finds a question burning within him whenever he sees taehyung, but he’s too

burdened by guilt to ask it. 

Then Taehyung leaves the palace. Two weeks to go until the wedding and apparently business is too urgent back at home for him to stay away another moment. He leaves his wife behind to ensure his sister’s comfort and safety.

Jungkook has resigned himself to his fate again until he’s walking in the gardens one day with Taehyung’s wife and she says quite plainly, “My husband has told me of what happened between you two beneath this tree.” 

Jungkook is just gobsmacked. “Wh-what happened?”

“Oh, do not look so surprised. And do not deny it. He did not betray me by kissing you, if that is one of your concerns. His royal highness and I… we married out of convenience, not for love or lust. We have freedom within this marriage to be with whomever we wish.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says quietly. 

“You will not have that freedom if you marry my sister-in-law,” she says. “I have seen the way you look at his royal highness. Our sister deserves better than a marriage with a man who cannot keep his eyes or his hands off of her brother.”

“I know she does,” Jungkook says. “but I… I simply cannot stop this wedding. I am doing it for my kingdom. I always have been. We do not marry for love. You of all people should know that.”

“I am aware of what this marriage is. and what my own marriage was,” she says mildly. “But if you go through with it I expect you to remain faithful to her and only her. There will be no exceptions. She dreams of true love and although she has no illusions about this marriage either, I would like for her to find happiness in it given time.”

“I promise you,” Jungkook says, although it breaks his heart. “I would never be unfaithful to her in our marriage. I truly believe she deserves happiness and I would do my best to give her that.”

“Good. Because if you fail I will gouge out your eyes and feed them to you. Understood?” 

“Understood.”

And so Jungkook is right and royally screwed. The wedding is a week away and he cannot think of a way to get out of it. He cannot stop thinking of Taehyung. He cannot stop hoping that Taehyung will show up, his business in his own kingdom having been resolved in time to attend the wedding after all. 

Two days before the wedding is to take place, there comes terrible news. It feels like a sick and twisted answer to all of Jungkook's prayers. There has been an assassination attempt on Taehyung’s life. Poison. Taehyung is dying. Or he may be dying. The doctors are searching frantically for a cure. 

At this news Taehyung's sister comes to Jungkook, pleading with him to postpone the wedding, to allow her to travel home to see her brother. Jungkook of course agrees and says he’ll go with her too. For protection of course. Not because he is desperate to see Taehyung again in case he dies. 

When they arrive at the palace in Taehyung’s kingdom and are escorted to Taehyung's bed chambers and finally see Taehyung, pale and unconscious in his bed, Jungkook cries. He finds himself torn between feel sick and needing to leave the room so he does not have to see Taehyung like this anymore and rushing to his bedside to tend to him. He leaves because he does not want anyone to see how affected he is by Taehyung’s sickness, but later that night he makes his way back to Taehyung’s chambers and sits with him. 

When asked, the doctors tell Jungkook that Taehyung most likely has a week left. They have slowed the poison, but finding an antidote is proving impossible. He is simply getting worse.

They leave Jungkook alone and Jungkook sits for a long while and holds Taehyung’s hand as he sleeps. Around midnight, Taehyung stirs, waking just barely. Or waking only as much as he can in his state of delirium.

“It is you,” he breathes, lifting a weak hand to touch Jungkook's face. “I am dreaming.” 

“You are not,” Jungkook says, smiling despite everything. “We came as soon as we heard.” 

“I dreamed my sister was here also…” 

“She is here. Asleep at the moment. In her own chambers.”

“But…” Taehyung coughs, a dry, hacking sound that shakes his body. “She cannot be here,” he says, faint at first, then insistently. “She cannot be here. It is not safe.” 

“They caught the poisoner. She is quite safe. Relax. Everything will be alright.”

He pushes Taehyung down gently and there is so little strength left in Taehyung’s body that he slumps the few inches he’s managed to raise himself, turning his face into his pillow. 

Jungkook dabs his forehead with a damp cloth left by the doctors. “You will be alright.”

Tears wet Taehyung's cheeks. “I deserved this. I am no good at being king. I only hope my wife will be a better one when I am gone.” 

“You are not going to die,” Jungkook says firmly. “We will find a cure.” He refuses to accept that Taehyung will be gone. “I have sent for the finest healers in my kingdom.” 

Taehyung's eyes begin to close. “That is good,” he murmurs. “Stay with me until they come. I would hate to be alone.” 

“I will. Have some water before you sleep.” 

Taehyung grimaces. “I only feel sicker when I do.”

Jungkook lets Taehyung sleep. After a moment's thought he finds himself inspecting the jug of water and the plate of half eaten food at Taehyung's bedside.

He calls in the doctors. “Bring me the queen.”

“She is asleep, your royal highness. it would not be—“ 

“Bring her to me.”

“Is his majesty’s health—“ 

“No. He is the same. I merely require a word with her.” 

“Then perhaps you should wait until mor—“

“Am I or am I not a prince engaged to marry his majesty’s sister, the princess? Do as I say at once!” 

Five minutes later Taehyung’s wife walks into the room, followed by the doctors. but she dismisses them with a wave of her hand when she sees Jungkook's face. 

“What is it?” 

“Who do you trust in this palace?” Jungkook asks. “Who do you truly trust?”

“My lady’s maid,” she answers.

“The one who came with you on your visit to my kingdom?” 

“Yes.” 

“She can cook, I presume?” 

“Of course she can.”

“I think we should have her prepare his majesty’s meals from now on. Her and only her. No one else shall handle it. Nor his drink.”

“Very well,” she says. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t have to. “What of the doctors?” 

“Do you trust them?” 

“They have been at the palace for several years.”

“But do you trust them?” 

“I shall find new doctors tomorrow. Are you planning to stay here all night?”

“For his protection, yes.” 

“Thank you,” she says gratefully. “One day you will make a good king. Taehyung has never been particularly good in a crisis.”

The next few days pass by sluggishly. Taehyung sleeps mostly, waking only for brief intervals to sip water and choke down a little food. The healer Jungkook has summoned arrives and begins treating Taehyung. and it is a relief to everyone. Jungkook’s kingdom is famed for its healers, its advances in medicine. 

Taehyung is still dropping in and out of delirium a day later however, when he wakes for a little while. Jungkook and the princess sit with him, but Taehyung scarcely seems to know his sister is present. He’s mumbling incoherently, seeming to be half dreaming. 

Then, looking towards Jungkook, he says, “It was a mistake I would make a thousand times over. I hate myself for it, but I cannot regret it either. To kiss you… I… I still smell the grass and the tree and feel your hands… You haunt me…” His words fade, his eyelids drooping. 

Jungkook tries to laugh it off. “I wonder who he thought he was seeing.” But he feels shaken to his very core because haunted is exactly how he feels by Taehyung too. 

“Not his wife, that is certain,” the princess says faintly, but she sounds far away.

Later, Taehyung's wife tells them both to go out and get some fresh air. She will watch over Taehyung for the afternoon. So Jungkook walks with the princess through the palace gardens. 

“My brother is quite smitten with you, isn’t he?” the princess asks mildly. “He saw no one but you when he said those words.” 

Jungkook almost laughs. “I do not think he is smitten with me.” Taehyung had been delirious. Taehyung had left. Taehyung had said their kiss was a mistake. “I assure you I am not… I do not…”

“You kissed him then?” she asks, ignoring his protests. 

Jungkook nods once. He cannot lie any longer. to lie would not conceal the truth from her. she knows already. “Once. Never again. It was a mistake. We both agreed it.”

She nods, gazing out towards the high hedges of the maze at the end of the garden. “I should have known. You have shown so little true interest in me. I had expected us to share a kiss or two, but now I realise…” 

“I cannot begin to apolo—“

“Do not bother. I never really wanted to marry you anyway. You never really wanted to marry me either. When I met you, though, I thought you would make a husband I could be happy with. You are kind and sweet. now i see that that can never happen.”

“Wait, we must—this marriage is bigger than both of us. It is for our kingdoms. I cannot not marry you.” 

She looks at him levelly, eyes unreadable as Taehyung’s had once been whenever he looked at Jungkook. “This marriage is for your kingdom, not mine. I can walk away whenever I want. It is you who needs me. Perhaps you should have thought of how important it was before you decided to act so recklessly. Be with my brother if you wish to, but neither you nor he will force me into a marriage like this. If my brother’s feelings for you are true, you will not need a marriage to protect your kingdom. If they are not true then…” She shrugs and walks away. “I suppose I will receive news of your kingdom being overthrown soon enough.”

Jungkook avoids everyone for several days after that encounter. He considers going home, but to go back to his parents and tell them what a mess he’s made is impossible. He has to fix this somehow. If only he can bring himself to go to Taehyung’s chambers. But he is afraid of what Taehyung will tell him and he is ashamed of how he has treated Taehyung's sister, so he spends his days in the chambers he has been given to sleep in and walks in the gardens. Servants bring him news of Taehyung’s improving condition from time to time.

Until one day he rounds a corner in the garden to find Taehyung standing before him, looking pale and fragile, but out of bed for the first time in weeks. 

“Y-your majesty…” 

Taehyung smiles at him tentatively. “I was told I would find you out here.” 

“Has the princess—“

“She has told me everything,” Taehyung says. 

“Will you walk with me then?” Jungkook asks in a strangled voice. “I must explain everything. I must beg… I must… I…” 

Taehyung shakes his head. “I am afraid I am not quite up to walking. If you will sit with me instead I would be grateful.” 

“Of course. Anything you wish.” 

They sit side by side on a stone bench and Jungkook wastes no time in beginning to speak. “I beg of you to not forsake my kingdom now that this marriage has fallen to pieces. My kingdom does not—I have a duty and I cannot let my kingdom be destroyed if there is a war. You are our only hope. I know we have so little to offer, but—“ 

Taehyung holds up a hand. “My sister spoke rashly the other day. Understandably. We have caused her great hurt. I do need your kingdom—your healers have knowledge and herbs that are hard to come by here, and if a war did break out your kingdom gives us an invaluable advantage due to its location. I am willing to form an alliance without marriage, so do not worry over your people’s safety. You saved my life. I owe you everything.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” Jungkook says, blinking hard. “I cannot… i… you owe me nothing. I cannot thank you enough.”

Taehyung shakes his head as if to say it's nothing. “I have been informed by my wife that she told you of our arrangement, the freedom we have in our marriage.” 

Jungkook's heart begins to thrum. “Yes. She did.” 

“I have also been informed of what I said while I was sick. And I want you to know I meant every word. You have haunted me since I first laid eyes on you. At first, I thought I could push you away, that I could push my desire for you away. But it did not work. And then we became friends and I found my desire only became stronger. It was a desire not only for your body, but for who you are inside. Our kiss has haunted me in every sleeping and waking moment since it happened. Every time you look at me. every time you touch me, even if it is the slightest brush of your skin against mine. I left because I was afraid I would not be able to contain myself. And with your permission, if you feel as haunted as I do, I should like to stop containing myself now.”

“You have my permission,” Jungkook breathes.

Their kiss is deep, but Jungkook finds himself holding the king carefully, not at all like the frantic nights he has pictured happening between them. Their corner of the garden is concealed, so they do not worry as they undress each other and Jungkook lays Taehyung down in the grass. It pains him to see the angles of Taehyung’s bones, the aftermath of Taehyung’s poisoning, and how little food he has been able to eat. So he kisses Taehyung’s body softly. They move together, the rich scent of grass and earth and summer blossoms all about them. And when they can contain themselves no longer, when kissing is too difficult and the peace of the summer's day is punctuated by soft noises they cannot hold back, they still, their foreheads pressed together, Taehyung’s hands in Jungkook's hair. Chests heaving, they lay together in the grass, basking in the remnants of the waves of pleasure that have washed over them. 

“I think that will haunt me for a very long time,” Jungkook murmurs at last. 

Taehyung smiles widely. “Perhaps we can avoid any future hauntings?”

“I would like that,” Jungkook says, kissing him softly. 

“There is plenty of space in my bed chambers for another, if you would like to stay here permanently to conduct the necessary negotiations between our two kingdoms,” Taehyung mumbles.

“Those negotiations are very necessary,” Jungkook agrees, kissing Taehyung’s jaw. 

“Exactly.” 

“Exactly.”

[giventae]

My fics masterlist

Vmin 🐻🐥

Collar

rated: Explicit

alternate universe - modern setting

omegaverse

hybrid taehyung/human jimin

multi-chaptered (completed)

smut/fluff/angst

i hate you (to the moon and back)

rated: Explicit

alternate universe - high school football

enemies to lovers

rich jimin/poor taehyung

multi-chaptered (completed)

smut/fluff/angst

Sk8er boi

rated: Explicit

alternate universe - high school

ballerino jimin/skater boy taehyung

grumpy x sunshine

multi-chaptered (ongoing)

smut/fluff/angst

But...he's a cheerleader!

rated: Explicit

alternate universe - university

cheerleader Taehyung/football player Jimin

enemies to lovers

multi-chaptered (completed)

smut/fluff/angst

Honeymoon in Hawaii (Explicit)

rated: Explicit

canon compliant

2017 Hawaii Bon Voyage

best friends to lovers

one-shot

fluff/smut

Enigma

rated: Explicit

royalty / omegaverse au

arranged marriage

enemies to lovers

multi-chaptered (ongoing)

smut/fluff/angst

It's raining panties

rated: Explicit

omegaverse au

alpha Taehyung, omega Jimin

neighbors

mutual pining

fluff, heavy smut

One of your girls

rated: Explicit

college/university au

jock Taehyung, cheerleader Jimin

one night stand to fwb to lovers

smut, fluff, pinch of angst

Yoonjin 🐹🐱

I'm with you

rated: Explicit

zombie apocalypse au

friends to lovers

enemies to lovers

one shot

smut and fluff and angst

If you can't stand him, bend him over

rated: Explicit

yoonjin

college/university au

academic rivals

one-shot

pure smut (with a pinch of fluff)

You're my baby

rated: Explicit

yoonjin

canon compliant

bon voyage season 2

whipped boyfriends yoonjin

one-shot

smut and fluff

[eleni-cherie]

as promised i finally started editing "among thieves" since it's shorter and not as well written as the other stories due to being the first one of the thieves collection series and my writing was still quite rusty back then. just took me a bit longer to start bc after finishing the series i needed a small break first.

idk how fast i'll be editing those. i might do a part per day, depending on my schedule. prologue and the first chapter are already up!

[theillustratedwriter]

Sunlit Moonrise | Daechwita Min Yoongi/Agust D x OC (Royalty/Fantasy AU)

Sunlit Moonrise Masterlist

<Previous Chapter

Next Chapter>

!!SUNLIT MOONRISE IS A MULTI-CHAPTER STORY AND NOT A ONE-SHOT SO IT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE IF YOU READ SINGLE CHAPTERS OUT OF CONTEXT. IF YOU ENJOYED THIS PLEASE READ PREVIOUS CHAPTERS LINKED ABOVE TO UNDERSTAND THE ENTIRE STORY!!

Chapter 4: Goddess of the Land

Aine is under house arrest in her chambers, sneering up at the Guards of Vulstis who peer down at her from beneath their visors. She eyes their crossed spears hungrily, her feet ready to launch her forwards and tackle one out of their grasp. Braelyn, ever-the-observant lady's maid, discreetly kicks Aine in the heel to discourage her from this idea, causing the hot-tempered noblewoman to glare at her through the corner of her eye. Braelyn offers her a pointed look in return. 

"Do you plan to watch me die of old age in here?" Aine spits snarkily at the guards, her patience waning by the second, "Because, if so, I'd rather just put my life in the hands of the Moon God and jump out that window." 

The guards remain unwavering so Aine makes a break for the large glass window to the right side of her room. Braelyn gasps dramatically. The guards soon spring to life, the sound of wood on wood echoing off the marble walls as they drop their weapons to the floor in a panic. As one of them reaches out to grab Aine, she pivots around to face them, ducking below their charcoal black armour and rolling on the floor. She retrieves one of their neglected spears, kicking the other under her bed. Grabbing a stunned Braelyn, she backs up towards the door, all the while keeping the spear directed at their throats. 

They approach her cautiously, hands on unsheathed swords at their hips. Just as Aine grasps the golden door handle, someone opens it from the other side. She whirls around, aiming the stolen spear at her newest threat. But, as her ferocious eyes examine the wrinkled lines and sad grey eyes of the face of her newest opponent, all her defences drop. 

"Father?" she queries softly, worried that this might be some cruel trick. 

"What did I tell you about playing with pointy things? They're dangerous, you know." King Caylus jokes, but Aine can tell it is all he can do to keep from breaking down. 

"It's not my fault that they gave it to me." Aine states sarcastically, gesturing to the Vulstis Guards who rudely snatch the weapon back out of her hand. 

King Caylus sighs sadly, placing a large hand on his daughter's shoulder, guiding her to sit beside him on the edge of her bed. 

"I hate this as much as you do, but you can't be fighting this. You can't fight against the ruling of the Parish of Patrinis. You'd not just be fighting against Vulstis, but against Nalentus, Verectias and Belltoria, too." King Caylus explains, and it is clear that he does not entirely agree with himself. 

"How do you expect me to go quietly with the man I hate? To live with our enemies? We escaped that place years ago, all for me to just go back there because he simply asked me to? What they did to mother-"

Caylus Sampson is a good and soft-hearted man, but at the mention of his wife, he becomes an entirely different creature. Perhaps that is the problem with soft-hearted people: when something happens to someone they love deeply, it affects them more and in ways that it would not others. He sucks in a long breath before standing, rising to his full height, towering over everyone in the room. 

"Aine." he warns.

Aine lowers her head and swallows. There is silence for a moment.

"Braelyn will be there with you." King Caylus reassures, having composed himself. Aine looks up, and catches her father and Braelyn exchanging a look. A look she can't quite decipher. Although wanting to decode the meaning behind this, Aine knows the walls have eyes and ears, so simply nods and takes her father's calloused hand. He pulls her up and into a bear hug, his vice-like grip indicative of a father that does not want to let his only child go. Aine reciprocates this, not knowing the next time she will feel this warmth and smell his comforting aroma of cedar wood and apples. 

"Time to go." a voice announces, interrupting the comforting moment. 

Aine is escorted mercilessly from the sweet confines of cedar wood, apples and her father's sad smile to the muddy, scorching, lay-bys of the Strato Gate. The Kingdom of Nocriam's boundary is encapsulated entirely by a manned fifty-foot high wall, with a total of four gates allowing passageway in and out of the kingdom. The Strato Gate is the exit to the north and is mainly used for travel to and from Vulstis. It sports an elaborate statue of the Moon God standing atop the archway of the gate. Horses whinny and harnesses jangle as Vulstis's congress finalises preparations for the journey. Aine and Braelyn stand off to the side, not interacting unless absolutely necessary. Aine has been slightly more cooperative since the talk with her father so the guards allow her a bit more breathing room. One is currently watching the two from afar whilst overseeing the haul of goods being loaded into a carriage. He was too far away to overhear anything.

"What did my father ask you to do?" Aine interrogates her lady's maid. Braelyn is such a stickler for the rules- lords and ladies must act and dress a certain way- so what had her father made her agree to?

A knowing smile flashes over Braelyn's face. It does not linger longer than a second as she spots a guard marching over. 

"Goddess, your carriage awaits." he informs.

Aine snorts. "Lady Sampson will do." 

"I-I see, yes, m'lady." the guard blanches, as if he had never been reprimanded by a noblewoman before. Knowing Vulstis's conservative practices, probably not. 

Aine and Braelyn are led to a horse-drawn carriage positioned behind the grandest-looking one. No doubt King Min is scrutinising her every move from behind its golden drapes. His cold, dark eyes attempting to burrow down into her soul and feast there until she becomes just like him. No matter how much gold draping, extravagant emeralds and intricate carvings of foxes there are on the outside of this carriage, they cannot mask the monster within. She panders if Advisor Hwang is in there with him still smiling, to spur on his predator-like behaviour, or whether he has finally dropped the act. 

Aine turns around, taking in the white marble walls of the Hall of Witnesses and its Wings of Residency. Her home. There, in the highest turret, stands her father gazing down at them all. With his broad stature he resembles a vigilant owl observing its prey. Long hair, fur cloak and beard softly swaying in the wind offering the illusion of ruffled feathers. Aine swells with pride, a smug smile playing on her lips. 

That's right, she thinks, the Owl of Nocriam. Owls are not just wise, but apex predators. They sit at the top of a food chain.

Just as she has been fighting King Min on the battlefield sword to sword, arrow to arrow, this was just another fight. This isn't predator versus prey, this is predator versus predator. This is still owl versus fox. Nocriam versus Vulstis. King Min's surprise attack had made her falter for a moment. Her father and only her father could remind her that she may be leaving Nocriam, but Nocriam will never leave her. King Caylus Sampson, the truest Owl there ever will be. Aine Sampson, Protector of Nocriam and the fearless warrior was back.

As she steps into the black-and-gold furnished carriage, Aine ensures to smirk hungrily into the concealed windows of the King's carriage in front of her. As if she is the owl, and her next meal is coming from King Min's carriage. It may well be, and she contemplates preying on Advisor Hwang first. 

The carriage lurches forwards, indicating that their ride to Vulstis Keep has begun. The guards are preoccupied with protecting the procession from outside threats and the black drapes over the windows are concealing Aine and Braelyn from prying eyes. 

"Are you parched, my lady? You keep licking your lips. Here, wipe your mouth with this." 

Aine absentmindedly accepts Braelyn's offering, but after touching it to her face she realises it is too coarse to be a handkerchief. Looking closer, Aine confirms that the material is instead paper and after shooting a questioning look at Braelyn, unfolds it. It is a passage of text ripped from a book that reads:

'The Celtic Goddess Aine and King Ailill Olom

King Ailill Olom believed whoever had Aine symbolically controlled the land because of her power over crops and animals, so in turn forced himself upon her. In revenge, Aine maimed him by biting off his ear.'

Aine grins after reading that last part. 

"You wise old owl." she chides at her father. He may not be able to hear, but she says it all the same. Braelyn chuckles. 

King Caylus Sampson may not be book smart but he sure is battle smart. King Min should be well aware of what happened to King Ailill Olom so would be sure to treat Aine with respect and care once they arrive at Vulstis Keep, which Aine can play to her and Nocriam's advantage. Perhaps the ruling of the Parish of Patrinis could be Nocriam's ticket to victory in this war after all. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A/N: King Caylus may be a big softie but he's also a big smartie! The question is is King Min already prepared for this? I mean, Aine's already tried to slice his arm off once!

The depiction of the legend of the Celtic Goddess Aine is not 100% accurate in Sunlit Moonrise, the stories and accounts differed depending on the sources I researched so the one I use is really condensed down for ease of comprehension in the context of this specific plot. I don't mean to offend anyone!

What do you guys think Vulstis Keep is going to be like? Light and fancy like the Hall of Witnesses in Nocriam? Or like a dusty stone castle that a dragon used to live in? Or possibly a bit of both? 

Thank you for reading!

-illustrated

<Previous Chapter

Next Chapter>

Chapter 1

Sunlit Moonrise Masterlist

[oddinary4bts]

Absolutely would love to read taehyung from yourself. Your writing is a gem and gets me so hooked ☺ I love all characters you write and I know justice would be done for him too (:

also am a sucker for a good slow burn (i love yours) especially enemies to lovers

Gosh yes nothing beats enemies to lovers fr🤭 (we might need therapy)

I’ll consider a taehyung fic once I’m done with my book! I can’t guarantee anything as I already have two multi-chaptered fics lined up (one half written and the other barely even planned) but I think writing tae would be fun

[casnextdoor]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Chapter 5– “bffr”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N— thinkin about doing a bonus chapter with the replies for the tweet… only thinkin. sorry for the typos once again but in my defense, this is what texting me looks like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<prev|masterlist|next>