#i think jin has parts though.....????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chimcess · 1 month ago

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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!

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.

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chirpy-poppy · 22 days ago

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How would the ghouls react to PC wearing their dorm uniform ? I've thought about this too much for my own good. No pressure

Thanks for the prompt! I'm guessing you mean the uniforms they get at the opening ceremony and not just the colored pin/tie (although that gave me an idea, stay tuned). Hope you like this!

Jin - How to make this man’s heart swell. Jin has a territorial personality. Seeing you in the blue that makes you look like one of his (subjects) people makes him feel secure in his relationship with you. He’d stand a little taller than usual and suddenly gets the need to take a walk with you for “exercise” and totally not to parade you around, flaunting that you’re his.

Tohma - “You look very nice.” He’d make it sound like a platitude, but he truly means it. He already considers you as one of the people in his circle, especially since the two of you spend hours in the vault taking care of Frostheim’s internal affairs together, but seeing you dress the part would truly seal the deal. He’s not one to help others if there’s nothing in it for him, but he’d feel inclined to take care of you when you’re dressed like that.

Kaito - “Are you finally joining Frostheim? With me?” Tears stream and snot drips down his face. Even after you tell him it is just for a mission, he’d relish in the fact that you are matching. He’d try to sneak away with you during the mission to go on a “date” in your “couple’s outfit.”

Lucas - “What is the occasion?” … “It suits you very well, PC. You should wear this more often.” Your fancy Frostheim skirt is more cumbersome than your uniform one, so he watches out for you even more. Think opening doors, getting utensils for you at the cafeteria, and carrying your bags.

Alan - Would feel uncomfortable. “You don’t belong here. It’s dangerous.” He’d send you home to get changed. As he’s fixing up a car later that day though, he’d let his mind imagine how it’ll be like if he were a normal guy and you can sit together in class, side by side, and walk back to the dorms together.

Leo - Starts streaming as soon as he catches sight of you. He’d come up to you talking like you did all this just for him. Showers you with sweet compliments for his viewers. When he’s done though, he’d mock you. “Why are you dressed like me? Are you in love with me or something? Ew, please don’t. I don’t want to be involved with an NPC.” As if he didn’t just force you to be involved with him for a 20 minute stream.

Sho - “Senpai? Is there a mission?”He wouldn’t compliment you outright, but he might compliment the clothes. Might hyper-fixate on one article so he’d have an excuse to keep looking at you. “That jacket looks really aerodynamic.” “It’d probably let Bonnie go even faster. Want to test it out?” If it is for a mission, he’d actually stand up to Leo if the vice-captain opposes him being partnered with you.

Haru - Might actually cry. He’s probably the one who got you the uniform, and he takes it as a green light to get you to help with some of the tasks around Jabberwock. Of course, he’d customize the uniform so it’ll accentuate your… features. Haru keeps his eyes narrow so you can’t tell which way his pupils are pointing.

Towa - Very pleased that you match. During the day, he’d drag you everywhere with him because you are twinning, and twins do everything together. He’d even drag you across the mud because Haru cannot complain about him getting your actual uniform dirty now. At night, he tells you how adorable you are. He’d note how the clothes don’t make the person since he’s very strong but you still look so weak in the jumpsuit.

Ren - Confusion. Why would you voluntarily wear something like that? He makes a disgusted face at you and yeets away as quickly as he can because this probably means you’re meeting up with Haru, and Ren is not about to entertain “that clown.” However, the next time he has to put on his own jumpsuit, he’d feel less bad about it and his own situation. But then he’d stand in front of the mirror in his green get-up and wonder why he doesn’t look nearly as cute as you in it.

Taiga - Might mistake you for a Sinostra student. He’d have an even harder time trying to remember who you are since he’s not used to you wearing those clothes. When he finally comes around his memories, he’d pull you into his lap to play poker as usual. He doesn’t have much of an eye for fashion anyway, so he wouldn’t act much differently than usual.

Romeo - “Huh. You finally don’t look like you walked out of the dumpster.” Takes you to his office to take a good look at your outfit. Will give a few critiques (obviously), but also will help you fix up your fit. By the end of the day, you are ready for the Met Gala. He might even pamper you a little bit, doing a face mask with you and dabbing some serum onto your face. You’d feel like a million dollar purse poodle, but you’re his million dollar purse poodle, and he’d personally make sure you look the part.

Ritsu - Boy’s elated. Takes it as a sign you are committing to Sinostra and bringing them the Laurel Crown as his business partner. The fact that you look stunning in it is but the fine print of this whole thing. However, if you’ve ever met Ritsu, you’d know he pays close attention to fine print.

Subaru - Tea party! He’d quickly put on his own robes if he isn’t in them already and bring you to Hotarubi’s terrace with some fancy daifuku and tea. “You look very nice, PC.” He finds eye contact a little easier that day. In fact, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time. Despite his social awkwardness, the beauty and grace you extruded while in those robes spoke to his kabuki culture and had him enraptured.

Haku - He was probably the one who tricked you into putting on the garment with the Fox Robe. “Now we look like a couple,” he’d say with a wink. He’d do this around the time of the spring festival so now you ‘have’ to go visit it together otherwise it’ll be such a waste of a good opportunity. Walks under cherry blossom trees so he can pick petals out of your hair for you. Oh no! There’s too many people here. Better hold hands so you don’t get lost!

Zenji - “You look like an absolute doll, my dear!” Walks/floats in circles around you like a satellite, taking in your new look from all angles. “You look like the first flower that blooms after a harsh winter! You breathe life and hope into the hopeless!” Non-stop poetic(?) compliments accompanied by a biwa. Expect to have your ears burning by the end of the day.

Ed - “This reminds me of the gothic era. I must say though, you manage to pull it off better than most of the children I saw back in the days.” There’s a video playing on his tablet, but he’s watching you instead as you go about cleaning his room. Might actually remember to warn you about mysterious liquids in his room so you don’t soil your clothes.

Rui - You were supposed to look ghoulish and scary in your Obscuary get up, but Rui still finds you super cute. Then again, he finds you cute even when you’re just breathing. Takes a million pictures together. “PC, this just calls for a romantic walk through a graveyard. They say fear makes the heart grow closer!” He’d insist you stay over for the full Obscuary experience. You’d wake up to a full spread of breakfast and another Obscuary outfit hand tailored by yours truly.

Lyca - “You’re wearing more fur than usual. And more purple. Hey! Are you joining our house?” Lil pup would be so excited but try to hide it beneath his scowl. Since he didn’t get placed into the same house as Subaru, he really wants a friend as a dorm mate. Since you are human, he’d also be happy that Obscuary seems less like a place for creatures.

Yuri - “Don’t think you can become the assistant of the great Yuri Isami just because you are dressed like that.” Despite what he says, Yuri would take you around Mortkranken, showing you all the specimens and teaching you how to use the machines. “You better come back here tomorrow immediately after class so you can put some of what you learned to good use. You’d better not waste my efforts!” Oh, and you better wear that outfit again too. You’re supposed to wear lab attire in the lab, after all.

Jiro - “Take it off.” What he meant is for you to put on the patient gown so he can conduct his examination. The patient gown is basically your Mortkranken uniform any other day since that’s all you’re in whenever you go there.

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uncookedfeeler · 2 months ago

Text

Cok's adventure II 🐙

Giselle x You

Tags : 7k5, Idol Giselle, story, smut, creature kink, anal, creampie, oral, breed, domination, ...

Part 1 Part 3

As the night goes on, the sirens of police and emergency services are still ringing in the city, where journalists are now swarming around the building, trying to get as much information as possible. Giselle is waiting for her manager to arrive in a café a couple of blocks away. She's put her bags and package at her feet and is enjoying a vanilla cappuccino. She can hear the TV not far away, with a live report from a journalist covering the accident:

"This is Jin, a reporter for K-News." The mall just had its last customers leave. There was a loud noise nearby, and a huge cloud of smoke was still coming from the building. We don't have all the details yet, but we'll do our best to get them to you as soon as we can. We've been told that the emergency services are still refusing our interviews. Are they trying to cover something up? The journalist kept going with his report, even though she was there at the scene, the situation had happened so fast, and she didn't know any more than he did.

Giselle notices her phone is vibrating in her pocket. She checks her screen and sees several missed calls from Karina, plus a notification in their chat.

She knew she could count on her members when she got home, and they'd reached out with some comforting messages. However, her tough-girl image was starting to show some cracks. The day had been long and stressful, and she was feeling the effects. Giselle's mood has taken a bit of a turn for the worse. She used to enjoy her freedom and her little adventures on her own, but now she wishes she hadn't gone out today.

She looks relieved when she sees her manager come into the café. He comes over to get her bags, and Giselle, feeling a bit embarrassed, heads for the exit. She feels her manager's hand rubbing her back as a gesture of kindness.

The night is now more aggressive, sending waves of cold wind across the city and blowing Giselle's hair around. The cold air hits her face, still covered in makeup. She picked up the pace, eager to get to the car and find some shelter. She notices the lights on her manager's car are blinking, indicating it's unlocked. She puts her hand on the back door handle, tosses her purse into the middle seat, and gets in, fastening her seatbelt as she goes. She's eager to get home.

She hears the trunk open and her manager say, "Let me drop off your stuff, and we'll get going." "I'll be as quick as I can." The man's voice is reassuring. He puts the bags and package one behind the other, then runs over to the driver's seat.

You've been stuck in this black box for a while now, even though you can't see anything and your tentacles are all tangled up. You're calm and thinking about the best way to get out. You feel the vibrations of the ride and wait helplessly for what's to come.

The ride home is as quiet as a church. Giselle looks out the window and enjoys the light show. The manager, despite his best efforts, would rather focus on the road. He knows the member will find the right words.

Once parked in the underground lot, the way to the dormitory is the same. Giselle leads the way, and her manager is busy with shopping. They get to a big white door. She opens the black box on the side, enters the 4-digit code, then closes it. You hear a small validation sound, and the lock releases. Giselle goes in first. She takes off her shoes, and her manager leaves her stuff at the entrance before heading back to the elevator. "Good night, Giselle. See you tomorrow. You've got the day off, so make the most of it!" he says after completing his mission. She quickly turns to thank him, a big smile on her face.

Now that she was barefoot, she put her shoes back where they belonged and opened the door to the main room. There she finds Karina sitting on the sofa and Ninging's body, clearly unconscious from exhaustion. The leader takes the initiative and comes to hug her, like a mother would comfort her child after a difficult event.

There's no need to say anything. Both women enjoy the moment of silence. Karina is relieved to see that her colleague is unharmed. Giselle is happy to be home. They spent a good two minutes rubbing each other's backs before they heard Winter come back from the doorway.

"The food is here!" the young girl announces, her hands full of plastic bags. She'd gone downstairs a while before Giselle got there to start cooking dinner. Karina and Winter get the food ready while Giselle takes her things back to her room. She quickly put her stuff away and went back to the living room. Ningning was brought back to life successfully when the young woman caught a smell of food filling her nostrils.

After dinner, the girls enjoyed the food and Giselle's spirits lifted for a moment. She was able to forget what had happened that day. It was well past midnight, and the girls were heading to their rooms to get some rest.

Speaking of privacy, when Giselle returns to her room, she decides to change into her pajamas. She removes her clothes, including her underwear, and puts on a long white t-shirt that reaches to her knees. Her two large mounds hug the shape of the clothing, and her anal plug is still firmly lodged in her small asshole.

Now she turns her attention to the package that caused her so much trouble. She grabs the scissors on her desk and begins to open it with a vertical motion. As the employee said, the package has already been opened, so there are only a few pieces of tape holding it in place.

You've finally had a chance to see the light. The room is warm and bright, and the light hits your eyes. You catch a hint of a sweet smell as it wafts in towards your nostrils. You come face to face with a human with black hair, big brown eyes, and perfect skin. Her lips are painted a pretty pink, and her skin is white like the flash of a light. As soon as you lock eyes, you freeze, suddenly aware of where you are. It's likely that the Humans have already killed one of your own, and there's no reason to believe they won't do the same to you.

"Wow, so cute" Giselle says as she looks at you and quickly picks you up to put you on the ground keeping her eyes on you the whole time. She had a pretty good idea of what to expect from an octopus and never thought she'd get such a pretty toy. Octopuses aren't the most attractive creatures, but when she sees your little round head, black eyes, and mouth, she can't help but think of you as a little puppy.

She opens it by touching your tentacles. Much to her surprise, she feels your warmth in her hands. The gelatinous yet firm feeling is pretty addictive. She places her fingers on your suction cups and feels how strong they are. The pleasure of touching you now makes her feel good, so she puts her lips on your head, and you don't seem to mind. Instead, she follows up with a quick flick of her tongue, releasing a sweet but not unpleasant taste into her mouth.

She starts by putting two of your tentacles in her mouth. The contact of her lips and tongue makes you quiver inside. The sensation of moisture at your tips is a pleasure you've never experienced before. Then you feel more tentacles on her warm body. Soon you're completely used by the human.

You're still immobile, and you're starting to worry about the attacks on your body. The fact that she's started putting her lips on you and even biting your head makes you think she's going to eat you. Then you feel your body being lifted and you land in a soft, comfortable place.

Giselle has taken the liberty of placing you on her bed. "I think it must be hidden over there," she says, peering between your tentacles. She notices a crack and gets really concerned. "What?" "I can't believe they sent me the female model!" She starts to touch your "bottom."

"What on earth is this person doing? Why is she putting her hands so close to...?"

Your excitement causes your penis to jerk out from between your tentacles. You feel vibrations running from the middle to the tip of your tentacles.

"Oh my, that looks so much like the real thing!" Giselle's eyes widen and she blushes. She's got the penis of a space creature in front of her, and she has no idea. She uses her hand as a measuring tool and assesses it with interest. "Oh my goodness!" "It's probably going to reach my uterus with ease."

Things have escalated quickly. Just a few moments ago, you thought you were in serious danger. Now, a human has just pulled your dick. You feel her breath on the tip. You're frozen in place, realizing what's going on. You don't see the human, but you get a few jolts and a sensation of moisture around your cock. It touches something that looks like a tentacle. It's itchy, and the heat and moisture of your cock make you feel warm and relaxed.

Giselle had taken your cock in her mouth without you noticing. She started with gentle kisses on the tip and then took the length into her mouth. Her tongue traced the length of your shaft, tasting the natural flavor of your arousal. Giselle gave it her all, already reaching for her pussy, naked as could be.

Giselle inserts a finger into her wet little hole and forces her ass to move her butt plug, determined to get her satisfaction. It's a great feeling to have both holes taken care of. She keeps going with your cock, and thick drops of saliva stick to it.

On the other hand, you found the pleasure increasingly difficult to bear. You never thought something like this could happen in your life. You felt the human's hands take your tentacles and wrap them in two spheres of flesh. She squeezes your tentacles with her hands, and you hear her moan. One of your tentacles is pulled to the ground before you feel a sticky warmth at the tip.

Giselle was letting off some steam after a long day. She'd wrapped her toy cock around both of her breasts. Her previous sucking had made the shaft quite slimy, which helped as she massaged the cock while licking the tip hungrily. One of the tentacles kept going into her pussy. She could feel the suction of the cups peeling her walls back, and a nasty stain had appeared on the floor. The room was getting warmer as Giselle pressed her breasts against your cock, making sure to put more saliva on your length. She dropped to her knees and jumped up a few times, feeling the tentacles breaking into her hungry little pink pussy.

The pleasure was overwhelming. You felt like you were floating on a cloud, and you released your cum without knowing where it would land. You automatically grabbed Giselle's head, pulling her closer. Your penis hit a wall that you couldn't identify. Giselle is taken aback when she suddenly sees the cock piercing her throat, her breasts squeezed between her and her toy, her pussy sweating warmly, leaving an incessant liquid on the floor. The pleasure is too sudden, and her body tenses before she drowns in her orgasm. She feels the spasms of her body travel as long as she is held by the creature.

You know you messed up. You've kept a poker face the whole time, but you can't help but feel pleasure. Once you've let go of the human's head, though your cock is still hard, you straighten up to face her.

Giselle was caught off guard by the taste and smell of the substance, and before she knew it, she'd swallowed some of it. She sensed that something was amiss. No toy is designed to trap its user in this way. She backed away from the bed, cum all over her face, and a feeling of dread hit her as she came into contact with her new "toy."

She was at a loss as to how to react. There was an octopus on her bed, standing upright with a terrified look on its face. The tentacles were almost touching her face, as if to protect themselves. She stood there for a few minutes, naked, her face covered in cum, her breasts reddened, and her pussy hot and lubricated.

You're standing in front of the human, ready to defend yourself if you need to. You don't speak their language and you're not sure where you are. Your only option for survival is to escape, but you know you're trapped in this room without looking. Then, right in the middle of your confusion, the human reaches out to you. Her expression is firm but not threatening. If you were in her shoes, you'd probably use your advantage, but the human doesn't seem to be going down that route. You're not sure what her gesture means, but you extend one of your tentacles toward her and make contact, aware of the risks if she catches you.

(Yes this image exist for some reason)

Your eyes are still locked together. You can feel the softness of her hand on your tentacle, then she gently applies pressure to bind you, moving up and down. She smiles and lets go of your tentacle to come over to the bed. She's just a few inches away from you. Her body blocks the light from the ceiling. You slowly bring your tentacles towards you, being careful not to make any sudden movements.

She's trying to communicate. You hear her say "Gis-elle" while pointing at her face with her hand. This isn't the first time you've come across other species that can speak. You know that people have names, and through repeated movements and words, you've come to understand that her name is "Giselle." You also try to imitate Giselle's gestures: "Cok, cok, cok." You do this a few more times, pointing your tentacles at your face.

Giselle, on the other hand, quickly realized that your name was Cok. "What am I going to do with you now?" "You don't look like the octopus I see at the market sometimes, and the fact that you can talk doesn't make my job any easier." "You just played a dirty trick on me. My body is stained with your semen, so I guess a shower is necessary now. Don't worry, water shouldn't scare you."

You don't understand what Giselle is saying, but she comes closer and picks you up before putting you back in her bag. Once again, you find yourself in a dark place, your erection notwithstanding. You always hope that nothing will happen to you.

Giselle, who has put her T-shirt back on, opens her bedroom door with her bag under her arm and heads to the bathroom. She makes sure the room is empty before opening her bag.

You feel Giselle's hands emerge from the darkness, and you discover a new environment that's even brighter than the last one. Even though you don't understand a word she's saying, she still gives you a quick overview of the place. "Welcome to our bathroom. Across from us is a shower and a jacuzzi. The sinks are to your left. "You'll find our toilets tucked away to the right." She goes over everything in the bathroom and points. You follow her with your eyes, even though you're still a bit confused.

She puts you down by the sink, and you watch as she tosses your semen-soaked t-shirt into a bucket. Then she heads over to the spot she calls the "Jacuzzi" and bends over to turn on the water, showing you her butt plug she left at "home" along the way. She gives you a signal to follow her by pointing at you as she steps into the jacuzzi. As you crawl towards her and finally plunge into the water, a haze of warmth fills the room.

"Ah, that feels good," she says with a smile. You have to agree; the sensation of swimming in this warm water is very pleasant. You see her look at you and smile, and you feel her hand on her head as she rubs it gently.

You notice Giselle looking at you and feel her feet rubbing against your leg. Each time she makes contact, she immediately pulls her foot back, but she keeps coming back for more. She gives a little smile that you can't miss. "mhh-hhh" You hear her making little whimpering sounds, and it's your turn to gently caress her toes, making sure to get your tentacles between each one. Her toes are clinging to you, and you're not sure what her hands are doing.

You then dip your head into the water and watch in surprise as two tiny fingers rub against her pretty pussy. You see them go into her body and then immediately come back out again. She speeds up the rhythm, and you realize you're no longer feeling pressure on your tentacles. This allows you to move up her legs as you bring your head closer to her perfectly smooth pussy, which is just a few inches away from your face.

"Not so sweet so fast my dear, let me savor you first" You see her suddenly stand up and lean towards you, her breasts right in front of you, her nipples still hard. Up close, you realize how beautiful they are. She spreads her legs while bending her knees and comes to lay her dirty pussy on your head. She rubs lightly against you and continues to pound her cunt with her fingers. "Oh, ah, I'm coming," Giselle says. A bit more pressure is applied to your skull, with her slit rubbing against you as her fingers play with her little clit above the entrance.

Her legs suddenly spasm, and you feel a rush of water hit your head and body. It's clear that the source is her red, quivering pussy. "Wow, that feels great," she says, her eyes full of desire. She's now sitting up, her legs feeling a bit wobbly. She's aware of what she's doing and the show she's putting on, and she sees your hard cock. She wants to use her toy right now, too. She's so caught up in her ecstasy that she doesn't care what you look like. She just wants a good fuck to bring her back to earth.

Giselle puts her hands behind her back and hears a "poc" as she removes her toy from her ass. You can see her face twitch with pleasure as she takes her partner out of her hole and places him in a small bowl next to the jacuzzi. She turns around to show you her backside, and you get a close-up of her freshly spread ass and her little pussy, still waiting to be loved. She uses her left hand to spread her hole, revealing all of her warm flesh as she points at the entrance repeatedly.

You can tell when a female is in heat, no matter what species. Giselle is releasing pheromones that indicate she's ready for male attention. That's all she needs, and without further ado, you make a swim towards her, climb up her legs and point your rod at her backside. Your tentacles squeeze her buttocks while you linger on both of her breasts. Not content with this lack of attention, the last one goes to her mouth, which you don't fail to penetrate. You're there, in possession of a human body, ready to fill her with your entire being.

"Cok cok cok cok cok" you hear your name as you tease her by rubbing your cock against her entrance, but this was a mistake. Giselle, who takes your cock in her hand and puts it in her ass herself, screams as you come hard against her ass. “Ohhh fuck, it’s big” Giselle's insides are warm and welcoming around your cock as you thrust into her ass. You start thrusting back and forth, harder and harder. “Mhhh-mhh more” she cries, your combined movements cause the water to shake as you satisfy your new mistress. You feel her tongue around your tentacle, trying to give you the best suck she can. You also pinch her breasts while playing with her nipples. You give her an ass-slapping rhythm to match her bouncing buttocks.

"More, more, more!" Giselle moans, lost in pleasure. She reverts to a simple primate, in need of pleasure. Her head is thrown back as you grab her hair and pull her towards you. The force of your bodies hitting each other leaves red marks on her buttocks. You move on to her stiff breasts and push into her still-wet pussy with a sharp thrust. Giselle ends up being double penetrated.

The noise in the room is getting louder by the second, and Giselle is losing all her self-control. She's on her hands and knees, her breasts pressed against the edge of the jacuzzi. She's being mistreated by her new toy; You don't let go, every time you pull her hair, she tightens around your cock: "Harder, hurt me, baby". She gives everything, the frenzy of your bodies increases, the heat in the room is at its peak. Her ass has become your sheath and your masculinity belongs to her.

While you ravage her ass, your tentacles take care of her dripping pussy, you come slamming against these walls while repeating circular movements, the tips are compressed to the extreme, this bitch has cum several times already, when you remove your tentacles, her fluid explodes from her slit before going back in again and again.

The thrusts are getting stronger and stronger as you feel the release coming. Her pussy fills the water again, and you feel Giselle's body go in one last thrust. Then you grab her hair in two spots and thrust as far as you can into her. You feel immense pleasure as you release all your cum into her conquered hole.

As you let go of her hair, you fall backwards, hitting the water with a small splash. When you return to the surface, Giselle is still in the same position, looking like she's waiting for anything to happen. You can see your cum coming out of her ass and sliding down her body, and her little pussy is lightly covered in your seed, which falls into the water. Your cock is now completely dry and fully retracted behind your slit.

The water is covered in semen and Giselle's wetness as they float on the surface of the jacuzzi. You hear her ass spew your cum in waves with obscene noises, then Giselle turns around, her arms slumped on the side of the jacuzzi. Her hair is a mess, and her body is covered with the marks left by your lovemaking.

You can't see Giselle's eyes, hidden by her hair, and you're waiting for her next reaction. You stand there staring at each other in an awkward silence. It's not forever, though, because you hear a knock on the door. "Giselle, I need to use the toilet," you hear her say. Of course, you can't understand, but you quickly grasp the situation when you see Giselle's panic-stricken face.

"I'll be ready in two minutes. I'll just rinse off and get out," says Giselle, taken aback. As she presses the button to drain the water from the Jacuzzi, she grabs you by the tentacles and heads for the shower, bumping into you on the ledge as she goes. "Don't be a princess. I've already seen you naked. I'm going to pee myself," she says as the door opens. You find yourself behind the curtain, restrained by Giselle's arms around her stomach.

You feel the hot water fall on your bodies as you're held back by Giselle. Her breasts press against your head, and you feel her breathing quicken. "You were totally fine showing me your butt plug in the dressing room, and now you're afraid I'll see you naked?" a woman says now sitting on the toilet, the sound of the shower masking that of the toilet.

“Shut up and hurry away, I'd like to dry off and...” Giselle feels your semen leaking from her ass again, which startles her. She knows the water won't cover the leaking on her leg. She looks at you and, with her hands, mimes her anus and the other finger, asking to plug it up. You use your tentacles to come and penetrate your anus and her … pussy

She's always happy to have her holes well occupied, but Giselle trembles at the presence of your tentacles inside her. Your communication still isn't perfect, but you've done what she asked. You feel the liquid trying to get out at the tip of your tentacle. Now that she's in the shower, Giselle takes the opportunity to wash her body and hair. You now stand alone at her waist with your tentacles around her, keeping the two of them warm deep in those caves. She watched Karina finish her business and leave the room after washing her hands at the sink. "Good night, Giselle," she said as she closed the door. Giselle had noticed that Karina was wearing only her panties.

The danger is now gone, so you pull your tentacles back while still holding on to Giselle. You slide down until you touch the ground, "You bastard, you've filled me well. Even my pussy hurts." Of course, she knows you don't understand. She moves her legs closer to you again, and you feel a warm liquid fall on her head. "Here, this will teach you to take me for your bitch."

Giselle had just pissed in your face. You frown and whip her lower legs with a tentacle. All the while laughing. She approaches you and rubs you with a soft ball that quickly foams. The rubbing sensation is pleasant, and Giselle works hard to rub it all over your body. Although you still can't communicate verbally, you feel like you're doing pretty well with this woman. It's hard to picture her as a threat now that she's let you take a "dominant role". Once the shower's over and she shows you how to use a hairdryer, she doesn't even put you back in her bag. She holds you in her arms at stomach level.

The quiet click of her bedroom door means you're safe again. Giselle turns down the lights in the room, the temperature is just right, and there's a nice smell of freshness from the shower. She'd changed into her pajamas, which were a loose-fitting T-shirt and pink shorts that let her lower body breathe. You stand on her bed and watch her brush her hair in front of the mirror.

Like her, you're tired from your journey. Sleep is one of your needs, unlike oxygen or food. Your body feels heavy and you sense that you're about to fall asleep. You feel a sudden motion on the bed as Giselle opens the blanket to slip into it. You're afraid of being crushed, so you shake your head no when she asks you to come closer.

You fall asleep on the pillow next to your mistress like a little puppy. Giselle grabs one of your tentacles and inserts it into her ass. After all, she wouldn't want you to run away now. You lose consciousness, feeling a warm sensation at the tip.

Giselle starts to wake up as the sun comes through the curtains, painting shapes on the wall. She feels her limbs are pleasantly heavy, with a soft ache from the restless night spent with her unlikely new friend. She turns to her side and laughs softly. There he is, her toy, an octopus, sprawled across her pillow, his tentacles lazily dropping over the edge.

The faint sounds of footsteps and lights under her door indicated that her bandmates were still getting ready for their day's work. She was the only one with a day off; her next schedule is the following night. As she discreetly slips out of her bed, she feels your tentacle gradually withdrawing from the depths of her ass as she moves towards the door, stopping for her own pleasure along the way and taking advantage of the last few inches still inside her, she disappears from her room.

You are awakened by the light coming from Giselle's bedroom door. Your body is still resting on one of her pillows. Your tentacles are scattered all over the bed and floor. Two shadows suddenly appear in your pupils, not fully dilated. You struggle to recognize the people in front of you :"Wow, what's this, Giselle-Unni really has poor taste," a quiet voice lets out. "It's probably her new doll. Hurry, grab the tablet from the bedside table. We're going to be late."The second grumbles as she grabs the tablet herself.

As they leave the room, you can see Giselle in the distance under the hallway lights, "Giselle, when you take the tablet, remember to put it back in the living room, we need it for our challenge!" she says nothing and walks towards you, closing the door behind her.

"Good morning, sir. It looks like you slept well here," she says with a smile as the two of you are alone again. In the distance, you hear the front door slamming, which means the other humans have left.

With a flick of her wrist, she opens the curtains to let in the light, then goes to the other corner of her room to find her clothes. Her "pajamas" twirl around the room, revealing, to your surprise, her butt plug. She grabs you and carries you out of her room. You're now in what looks like the main room of her dormitory. From the height of the table, you can see your surroundings and are now at Giselle's bust height.

The silence is broken by a sound coming from Giselle's buttocks. She removes a device from it and brings it to her ear while sitting across from you.

"Yes, manager-nim..." The rest is hard to understand, since she had taken the malicious pleasure of coming to crush her two mounds on your head and caress one of your tentacles as if it were one of her strands of hair. The weight of her breasts exerts a gentle pressure on you. Her softness is a small cloud over your misery.

In revenge, you come and squeeze her breasts through her clothes and take the time to insert one between in imitation of your big cock. Her face turns red; "In about how long?" she sighs. She pulls her clothes down to reveal her tiny nipples, which you must immediately attack with your tongue. It was already sensitive and hard in your mouth. "Mmmh, I'll w....ait for you..... then," you alternate between her nipples, one being devoured by your mouth while the other receives love from a tentacle. Her breathing stops and becomes irregular. The pleasure is intense but brief.

"See you in a minute," she says, putting her device down on the table. You had startedto get really serious, but she suddenly gets up and goes to her room, coming out with a handbag. She stares at you and says, "It's too risky to leave you here alone, we will finish this later" before shoving you into the bag with a mischievous smile on her lips.

Unlike the others, she has taken the liberty of leaving her bag open. You see a variety of sights and sounds. A spectacle of sensations unfolds before you. From time to time she turns her gaze to you, a slight smile on her lips, and you watch it interact with her own. You begin to decipher a few words and facial expressions.

The liberation comes as she puts her bag on her lap, unable to tell where you are. The close-up of her beautiful face is comforting. She brings her mouth to her bag and mumbles, "Hey stupid, I'm still wet from earlier. She pulls back and starts massaging your between-tentacles so you understand what's going on when she decides to take your tentacle out of her bag and slide it under her skirt.

You don't need her help to know what comes next: the capricious one has made sure to tuck her bag under her skirt. Your work as a miner has begun. Make your way to her watery cave. On your way to the rare loot are her panties. You rub them lovingly, already smelling the foul stain on them. It doesn't take you long to hold them up and pull them apart, while your colleagues take care of the rest.

The attack begins when you slide three of them in and feel her body vibrate. The passage is narrow and she resists you. You begin to rub violently against her walls and tickle her insides. You continue inside her until you come up against a wall. From then on it's impossible to go any further and she crushes you with a pelvic thrust. You slowly pull out of her and give way to another group of three; it becomes a game and her pussy a real amusement park.

For her part, Giselle is subjected to your repeated attacks as someone approaches: "5 more minutes and the director will see you". She takes a firm stance in front of the secretary, closing her legs as tightly as possible.

You feel her pussy tremble more and more with each thrust; you know her orgasm will be big and that it's close. Since she's in public, you're the only one who can satisfy her immediately, so your decision to step back, this slut deserves a good punishment. Without seeing her face, you can tell she's frustrated with the way she's rubbing her legs; her panties are completely soaked, not to mention where she's sitting. No doubt she's stained him with her love juice.

At Cok's mercy at this moment, Giselle takes it upon herself and is soon approached by one of her managers, she was in her company's building to talk about yesterday's incident as she was seen leaving the building when it was evacuated.She picks up her bloody bag and follows her manager to the director's office making sure to turn off your light as she closes her bag, clearly offended by your actions.You lose track of time as you fall asleep next to her.

When you regain consciousness, you're back in Giselle's room. It's as quiet as a graveyard, with the sun's rays streaming down the slope and fresh air coming in through the window. You're definitely alone in the room. You've never had a moment to yourself. Always in the company of Giselle or at the bottom of a bag... You already know the bed. You slip off the foot of the bed and fall to the floor. You slide to the center of the room and scan your surroundings again. You notice writing on the ceiling that you recognize: "6:48... 6:49 PM...".

On your right, glued to her bed, is a desk, which you climb over and find yourself in front of a book with the name GISELLE inscribed on it, as well as the technological object the other humans took this morning, but in a different color. With a simple touch, you press the object, which lights up and symbols appear. In the same way, you open the book, which seems to provide knowledge of her language, and the technological object allows you to listen to it. This is your way to learn Giselle's language, but despite your abilities, it's going to take some time.

The clock is ticking and there's still no word from Giselle. You concentrate on your task and try to assimilate as much knowledge as possible. The words make sense and your first sentences are still close to a newborn's speech. The slamming of the front door wakes you up and your instincts tell you to return to your position on Giselle's bed, motionless as a statue. In your panic, you've left the tablet and book open.

You hear footsteps approaching Giselle's room and quickly relax as the door opens to reveal her in an all-black skintight outfit. "Are you awake, you bastard? I needed to spend my nerves at the gym," she says, even though you've seen her before. Her body is truly a work of art!

Her eyes devour you completely, her walk is full of confidence, she approaches the bed and stops in front of it, her scent catches your nostrils, but it's not the scent that disturbs you, it's the "aura" she's been radiating since she entered the room.

Giselle reeks of sex, her whole body oozes those pheromones, those of a woman in heat, ready to be filled, the fact that you left her hungry earlier must have awakened her appetite and when you look at her, you know she's very hungry. Without delay, she lifts her top with her left hand, exposing her breasts and you notice the teeth marks on her nipples. Her right hand pulls down her leggings to reveal her sweet, freshly shaved pussy; a trickle of wetness still binds her slit to her clothing and her lips are scarlet red.

As she removes her top, she jumps onto the bed to take you in her arms and place your crotch on her slit, licking your body as she moves her pelvis, causing both your sexes to rub against each other. You are devoured by this lioness.

Her breasts are pressed against your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck on her nipples. Your tentacles try to get into her ass, but it's already busy: "No, no, tonight it's all in my pussy," she says, shaking her head.

The friction between your sexes is driving your arousal into overdrive, and your penis is more than ready to come out. Your tentacles had encircled Giselle's body, squeezing you together as each gave pleasure to the other. Giselle's nipples are now marked with your mouth. You feel the tip of your penis quivering at the entrance to her pussy. The rubbing of your sexes creates wet noises that echo around the room.

Giselle can't wait any longer, her pussy needs love and her sperm bakery is more than eager to have its first customers. She lies on her back and spreads her legs, leaving full view of her hungry hole. “Come, Cok, turn me into an octopus slut,” you line up and with a quick thrust, you penetrate her vagina, while you're immediately surrounded by her legs, who intends to feel you deep inside her. “Ohhhhh, say hello to my uterus!”

Frenzy overtakes them both as Giselle wiggles, hoping to reach a deeper place, your cock like a drill inside her. Her walls envelop you tenderly as you ram her with all your might: “More, Cok, fuck meeeeeee, kiss my womb”. You wrap your tentacles around her legs, spreading them wide to give you a full view of where you're lovingly fucking her

“Cumiiiinng, ahhh” cries Giselle as the pressure around your sex sends you skyward and allows you to shoot your first well-deserved load into her. Her juices try to expel themselves from her vagina, but your big cock acts as a seal and your juices mix while hitting her lust-filled walls. “Oh ohh, so hott, your cum is burning me from the inside!, i want more seed”

Far from satisfied, she lies on her stomach to show you both her plump buttocks and the glow of her butt plug as your cum drips from her pussy. She pushes it aside and lets you admire the havoc wreaked by your cock and then with all her carnal lust she says, "Honey, come and plug my wicked leak, we have all night so make sure to fill me again and again" as she wiggles her buttocks.

At a glance, you read “9:13 PM”. Then you move towards her open hole, taking your time to let her feel your thickness. As you push back into her vagina, making contact with her uterus, she cries out in pleasure: “Ohhh, it's finally here, hit me hard, my ovary want to meet lots of your baby seeds”. You feel the perspiration on her body as you strike her ass with your tentacles. Your thrusts go further and further and your “belly” comes to touch her buttplug. Grabbing her hair, you pull her towards you and increase the pace as you feel her repeated orgasms attack your cock. You watch the juices flow out of her as you pull back before returning with a hard thrust, ready for your second load of the evening. You make sure you come to plaster your tip on her womb and, in a final strike, you grab her by the throat and rip her womb open to spill your cum. “Oh oh oh, bredd me Cok!”, you feel your cum flood her insides as some of it comes out while the other remains more stuck deep inside her baby oven.

— 9:48PM

Giselle straddles you as you pound her bouncing breasts, your clit attacked by your tentacles as you send another load her way. Semen drips onto the bed, mixed with her fluids.

— 10:32PM

Her screams never stop, you can see her talent as a singer. She has orgasm after orgasm, her pussy still filled with hot cum that warms the inside of her belly. You don't stop when you reach your fourth orgasm.

— 11:17PM

Both of your exhausted bodies are still at it as she lies on her back again, each of your limbs wrapped around the other; your cock hasn't left her pussy since the orgasm, her body covered in tentacle marks and kisses. Her hard breasts are now in Giselle's mouth as she tries to suck her own milk while her cunt is served by your monstrous rod. You know there won't be another tonight, so you come with your tentacle and remove her butt plug and thrust your tentacle deep into her: "oh. .. mhh... more. breed me." Giselle is unable to form a sentence, her whole body shaking as she surrenders to the pleasure.

— 11:27PM

The front door slams as the group returns to the dorm, but you're both too busy to notice. Giselle's screams echo through her room and it's clear that she's struggling, no doubt heard throughout the apartment. Entering Giselle's room, Karina sees her lying with the blanket over her. "ah ahh, so.rry-unn.ie," she says with considerable struggle. Karina sighs. "Hurry up and finish, you start in a few hours and keep the volume down, the others can hear you like theyre watching TV," Karina says with a sigh. She slams the door.

Meanwhile, you continued to penetrate her, Giselle's legs trembled with pleasure, she had exceeded her limits. "Cok, cok, cok, one more, I want your baby so badly, I want you to conquer my womb, make me your wife," she said, tears in her eyes, far from sadness. Her body no longer knows how to respond to these emotions, but you intend to grant her wish: your sixth charge is your last. Her walls are smooth now, each orgasm comes to squeeze you, then her pussy opens again on your cock. Your cum still drips from her as you prepare to fill her again.

— 11:59PM

As the day draws to a close, you flood Giselle's octopus oven with your cum. Her pussy has become your baby factory. After several hours of effort, you finally pull out. Just then her last orgasm arrives and a stream of juice spills onto her bed. Her cunt is wide open and you see her walls covered with your seed and her well-fed womb.

Giselle lies inert on her bed, her belly full of semen and her head full of stars. It takes her a while to find the strength to get up and look at the damage to her body and bed. As she approaches you, she places a loving kiss on your cock, tasting her own pussy juices. She comes up to you to kiss you and says, "Thanks, Daddy," while touching her belly. You reply in near perfect Korean: "You're welcome, Ms. Cok".

______________________________________________________________

🐙

#giselle aespa #aespa smut #giselle smut #kpop smut #gg smut #giselle x reader

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ayylovley · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! if it's not a bother for you can you please write part 2 of boyfriend and jealousy headcanons for Johan Seong, Vin Jin and Seonji Yuk?

yee part 2 with Johan, Vin jin, and Seonji, and feel free to ask for a part 3👍🏼(slight nsfw)

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 2

⋆˚✿˖°Johan Seong

❤️Johan would not know how to be a good boyfriend, at first

❤️once he learns it goes 180 and he’s such a good boyfriend that you wonder what happened to the old Johan…

❤️I feel in order to date him you’d have to be friends with him. He got trust issues (every issue)

❤️how you met in the first place would be you did something kind for him.

❤️he seems stand offish and cold but when he gives you those sweet smiles is when you fell for him first

❤️once he trusts you he’d be clingy. In his head. Trying not to be a bother but he wants to be with you every single day

❤️as a boyfriend, he would want to be with you while he lives more comfortably or at least if he has money finally

❤️he wouldn’t want you going through the poor life with him because he wants to give everything

❤️he gets in a bad mood easily but with some soft kisses and comforting touch a lot of it goes away

❤️he’s definitely a virgin

❤️but a fast learner

❤️amazing kisser

❤️10/10

⋆˚✿˖° Vin Jin

❤️you’re gonna be stuck listening to his raps more often…

❤️not that they’re bad, just that most of them are about him.

❤️and you’ll listen anyway cuz you honestly like his over confidence

❤️however he doesn’t actually think that he’s the most handsome guy in school, he said he hates handsome guys and that part of his personality is just not to let people make fun of him.

❤️you’re the one who said he’s very attractive and meant it

❤️you got him blushing. That’s actually a hint of what got him asking you out

❤️even when you say it to him a lot he’s blushing and pretends to be mad at you for it

❤️”damnit (y/n) shut up with the sappy shit.”

❤️you’re raising his ego about his looks that wasn’t even there before he met you.

❤️still though he’s an asshole

❤️he’s confident about how he is in bed…

❤️honestly for good reason because he’s got a little experience and the rest is just natural talent

❤️and since you’re not a fling he will want to be better for you

❤️he’s an idiot goof and that’s why you love him

❤️like how Mary needs to control him you’d also have to otherwise he will think that he can act up around you

❤️and since he’s around you almost everyday he slowly dials down his prick side to other people

(I went a little overboard with Vin Jin hey he’s my second favorite in Lookism ok…?)

⋆˚✿˖°Seongji Yuk

❤️if you remind him how handsome he is and how you love every part of him he turns flustered as hell

❤️not very affectionate in public but times you’re hanging out with The Cheongliang Fam he’s more talkative with you and would touch you a little more

❤️but once you’re alone that’s when he can’t have his hands off of you and smothers you with kisses

❤️would teach you how to make tanghulu

❤️he doesn’t know much about sex stuff, just the basics

❤️he’s got 6 fingers tho so once he learns more about it he’s suddenly skilled (knows how to use every single one)🫣

❤️wouldn’t know how to kiss at first, he’d feel embarrassed and needs a little guidance

❤️once he gets the hang of it his kisses leave you wanting more

❤️would make sure everyone in the fam gets along well with you, you’ll become best friends with Mary!!

❤️your biggest protector and if there’s a situation where he can’t, he orders Cheongliang to do it

❤️best nights is when you’re all together by a fire telling stories or joking with each other and then once you’re alone with Seongji again he holds you, no worries or stress just good vibes

#lookism x reader #lookism comic #lookism webtoon #lookism #johan seong #vin jin #seongji yuk

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lalunanymph · 3 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟑: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒

after a scandal that rocks the entire nation, itadori 'ryomen' sukuna is forced to marry a girl chosen by his brother in order to straighten him out. but, what jin doesn't expect is how much he's willing to destroy everything he knows just to get his freedom back—even at the expense of breaking his wife's soul.

warnings: mean!sukuna, unrequited love, explicit smut (sukuna x este), gojoyn besties, forced proximity, overhearing trope, misunderstandings, tension, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, MDNI !!

masterlist | playlist

Itadori Jin is used to cleaning up his brother’s messes.

Whenever Sukuna got himself involved in something he couldn’t handle, Jin would be there in the wings, roped into unwillingly helping him or else his brother would find himself in deeper shit than he could fathom. That has always been the nature of their relationship, and this time, it’s no different.

I want to push the wedding back by a month, his brother’s voice slurs in his memories.

Tch, Jin internally moans. He’s just offended one of their biggest, potential investors and now, Jin has to scramble to solve the issue before your father decides that this match was not worth pursuing.

Standing right in front of your father’s study, he raises a fist and knocks three times to get Jiro’s attention.

The door opens, and your father finds Jin sheepishly smiling at him, hands politely clasped behind his back.

Snapping the book in his grasp shut, the patriarch of the L/N family gestures for him to come into his study with a smile. Jin takes it as a win that he’s not frowning or angry—it means he can still salvage this deal.

“How can I help you, Itadori-san?”

Bowing to the older man, the Itadori Chairman humbly takes a seat before him, hands folded primly on his lap as he shoots your father a tentative smile. “I wanted to talk to you about something important—a wedding date for Sukuna and your daughter.”

“Oh.” Fully turning his attention to the younger man, your father earnestly searches Jin’s gaze, waiting for him to continue.

“I know my brother has unfairly pushed back the wedding date for a month without consulting me, and so to make amends, I want us to discuss a timing that would suit your family.”

Jiro strokes his chin. He’s dressed in a casual, blue button down and charcoal slacks, looking like a man waiting for a meeting to start rather than a relaxed father on holiday. In a way, both men were similar—Jin, too, was always alert and available to talk business despite how drained he was from the burdens of running such a big company all on his own.

“Your consideration is admirable, Itadori-san,” your father praises, a twinkle in his eye. “I think we can put it for the middle of next month when autumn begins so it’ll be a fruitful union, don’t you think?”

“An autumn wedding,” Jin hums. “It would be lovely.”

“So that by spring, my daughter might bear both our families the fruits of her labor,” he chuckles, and Jin joins him, a little perplexed at how openly he’s speaking about your future pregnancy.

“It is my sincere hope she and my brother finds happiness together,” Jin remains polite, though he’s wondering how Sukuna would come to terms with this new arrangement.

Jiro stands and heads to his liquor cart, pouring out a measure of whiskey in two custom made glasses. “I think we should toast to this, Itadori-san.”

Never one to miss out on a good celebration, Jin’s chuckle is considerably warmer, and he accepts the whiskey with a nod of thanks.

The older man settles onto the high back chair, and lifts up his glass.

“To both our families—may we be united as one very soon.”

Relief courses through Jin at how easily Jiro accepts the apology and suggestion, knowing that he’s overcome the hardest part. Now, it was up to Sukuna to keep their deal alive.

“To our families,” Jin touches the rim of his glass to Jiro’s. “May we be united very soon.”

Sukuna almost misses home.

It’s not as if he’s not enjoying his time in Hokkaido. He’s trying (keyword: trying) to play it cool with you so that Jin doesn’t get on his case and constantly harps on him to treat you better.

But, it’s so hard to keep up this facade when another woman is lingering in the back of his mind.

Este is always in the periphery whenever he’s trying to have a conversation with you, playing cards or having a meal together. He can’t fight the feeling of how her eyes seem to burn into him, and it’s made even worse when he remembers that her room is just a few doors down from his own.

In all honesty, Sukuna would’ve made do with his own company and a glass of whiskey for tonight, when a familiar scent wafts into the room and a dark beauty wearing a seductive smile catches his eye.

“Oi, you can’t come in here,” Sukuna scolds without looking at her. Your things are still on his side of the bed. You’re god knows where in this fucking colossal lodge, but you could return anytime to find your fiance entangled with a woman who you thought, for all intents and purposes, was his closest friend.

“Come on, Sukuna,” she coos, and he stifles the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it would just egg her on.

The tattooed man is about to call her out for her fuckery and ask her to leave when he hears the unmistakable snap of a zip lock bag opening.

He stiffens, the sound he loathes yet loves the most Pavloving him into utter stillness.

Este’s triumph melts on his tongue, but he’s immune to its taste when he slowly comes face to face with her, pupils in pinpricks and mouth slightly ajar.

She breezes past the threshold with a coy smile, and in her hands is his salvation—his one true love he’s been missing since their excursion to the mountains.

“I couldn’t sleep, Ryo,” she purrs, and slides onto his bed, crossing her legs. It takes everything in Sukuna not to jump her and grab the small packet grasped in between her purple acrylics, its contents shaken teasingly as she drags her gaze up and down his fit build. “So, I thought, why don’t I come here with our favorite lullaby?”

That deranged pit inside of him twists and turns, clawing out for relief. He swallows hard, and she doesn’t miss how his eyes never leave the white powder in her hands.

She knows it’s been days since his last hit; in fact, she was there when they were both high out of their fucking minds.

Este is treading dangerous waters, especially when she senses the tension emanating off him in waves. The tightening cord of the muscles in his jaw, the hitched breath.

There is no way you’re going to do this, the last shred of sanity inside of him screams. This is yours and Y/N’s bedroom! It’s sacrilegious to even bring another person here.

But, like every warning in his life, he ignores it, dragging his feet towards her. An unwilling slave to this prison that she’s erected with her own two hands—playing on his ruin with a smile on her rose blush lips and a twinkle in her deep brown eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles hoarsely. Sukuna unwillingly lays it on thick, the desperation making him say things he doesn’t mean. “I need you.”

“You do?” She loves to tease him, draw out his relief. “If you did, then why are you getting closer and closer to her, hmm?”

Oh. Sukuna’s brow knits together. She’s talking about you.

“What the fuck do you mean?” He fights back the urge to snarl, needing to play nice with her so he can feel the hit in his veins; the adrenaline spiking and taking him down those blessed roads of blissful numbness.

A pout worms its way on her full lips, and Sukuna feels his cock twitch in his sleep pants.

“Y/N,” she drags your name like it’s a curse, eyes flashing darkly. “I hate it that she’s here. That I have to see you two together.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, planting his hands on either side of her thighs. This close, he can see the sheen of some expensive serum or another glazing her skin, taste her minty breath.

He drags his nose up her neck, feeling her pulse quicken underneath the thin skin. Skin which blooms easily with marks, he thinks, as he places his lips on where her blood hums the wildest, sucking and tasting her till she tenses and her thighs squeeze.

Gotcha. Sukuna hears her breathing deepen, and he senses her crumbling walls; the flimsy self-control she barely has disintegrating to dust right at his feet.

He grabs the packet from her hands, continuing to kiss and lick down her neck, leaving his marks between her breasts and around them—careful not to mark her neck in case the other families notice.

She preens and whines under his attention, her legs instinctively hooking around his midsection. He chuckles, a low, baritone sound which makes her shakily whimper out his name.

The straps of her nightgown slip off her shoulders while he’s busy tasting her skin, and Sukuna eggs them on; removing the scanty piece of clothing and leaving her bare, firm body open to his scrutiny.

As thanks for her kindness in sharing such a gift with him, Sukuna rips open the package and tips it over her chest, leaving a well-practiced white line in between her tits.

Este giggles when she feels his hair tickling her neck, and Sukuna inhales the coke with a flourish, letting the drugs coat his neurotransmitters, bringing a zing of happiness all the way up into his brain. He kisses her, well and deep with tongue, and Este reciprocates, running her hands up and down his back; squeezing his biceps and grabbing his shoulders.

Blood rushes down his body, straight to his cock, and he can’t hold back any longer; he needs to reward her for her kindness.

“Keep your legs spread,” he commands, pushing the band of his sweatpants down to free his stiff cock. Those glassy vermillion eyes focus on her lips, using them as an anchor when he leans forward and kisses her; a distraction for when he pushes past her tight pussy.

“Ssh,” he mumbles, slapping a huge hand over her mouth. Sukuna would personally kill himself if any of the other upper echelon families found out about his affair with Este. “Shut up. No one can know you’re here.”

She nods behind his palm, and he keeps it there in case she can’t control her reactions. Moving inside of her, Sukuna feels her body rhythmically pulsing along with his, a dance the two of them were familiar with.

The coke messes with his mind, and his resolve weakens considerably, especially when he removes his palm and kisses her right on her parted mouth.

“I love you,” she whines past his lips, where he tastes her desperation and the truth he can’t spit out of his mouth. His bloodshot eyes devour her expressions, wondering how many times he’s put her in this position and he comes to terms with the fact that he’s lost count.

Sukuna doesn’t reply to her inebriated declaration, choosing instead to kiss her hard when she shatters around his cock with a soft cry of his name.

Throughout the entire trip, you’ve never exactly hung out with Sukuna one-on-one.

It was always chaperoned by your mother or an activity attended by the other important families so you two would never fully be alone. Since the Gojos sent their only son as a representative, you would hang out with Satoru on afternoons when your artistic inspiration was at its lowest.

Despite having every right to be reserved with you as your family was not on the level of vieux riche as theirs were, Satoru was easy company to keep throughout the day. Whenever you painted, he would hang around you, throwing jokes and chortles which distracted you from your rampant art block and eased your discomfort till you were comfortable enough to rib him back.

“Oi, Y/N, get your eyes off the canvas and let’s go for a soak,” Satoru whines, and you narrowly dodge a cushion he throws at you.

Scoffing indignantly, you pick the throw up and lob it back to him, catching him square in the face. “This is just an excuse for you to see me in a towel, Satoru.”

If your mother were here, she would chastise your blatant words, citing them as a flirtation tactic which would jeopardize your deal with the Itadoris. But, thankfully, she was having tea with the other mamas, and wasn’t around to hear you and giggling at Satoru’s betrayed expression.

“Then bring your damn fiance along and let’s get this show on the road,” he groans, tossing his head back and letting it thump against the sofa back. “I’m so bored out of my wits. The mountains have nothing. No clubs, no hot girls. I’m famished.”

“What if we went skiing?” you suggested. Not one for pursuing the slopes, this was a new adventure zone for you, but Satoru didn’t have to know about your discomfort. He perks up, grinning. You think that in another life, you and Gojo could’ve been the best of siblings.

“I think that’s great,” he claps his hands, looking like an overgrown 6’3 toddler with twinkling blue eyes. “We can take the pro slope! And then once we’re done, let’s go for some ochazuke—”

“What’s happening?”

Instantly, the air in the room nosedives to Hyperborean levels. Sukuna and Este stand by the second living room door, and you miss how Satoru’s bright blue gaze darts from between them, his mouth twisting at the corners.

You don’t sense his unease, back going ramrod straight as you shoot your fiance a smile. “Hey, Itadori-san. Satoru was just thinking we should go skiing. I’ve never done it before, so maybe you can show me?”

What was an innocent question was met with a smirk from him and a giggle from Este.

“Sukuna loves skiing,” she says, and you’re confused why they’re both sharing a look of knowing contempt.

“Oh,” you mutter. “If that’s the case then it’ll be great if you can join, too, Este-san.”

While you weren’t exactly comfortable with spending having Este onboard, it would be rude to not try and include her. Maybe you both would finally break the ice, figuratively and literally, and get to know each other better.

Sukuna opens his mouth, and you think he’s about to reject your offer, when Este butts in with a saccharine sweet, “I would love that! Wouldn’t you, ‘Kuna?”

If either men were thrown off by the sudden flirtatious note in her tone, they didn’t bring it up to you. Satoru looks away, coughing awkwardly, while Sukuna glares, his displeasure hewed out of stone cold annoyance.

Backed into a corner by his oldest friend and with nowhere to go, Sukuna raises his hands in defeat, tossing you a careless smirk which makes you catch your breath.

“I guess I have no choice. We should all go, then, Y/N. Does 3PM sound good?”

This time, it’s you who opens your mouth but is interrupted by Satoru who barks out a laugh.

“3PM is perfect.”

Sukuna levels him a look which Satoru doesn’t back down from. As one of the most important heirs in the country’s economic wheel, the white-haired man is a key player in any future biddings of mergers; Sukuna knows not to overstep in case he misses out on a pot of gold.

Flashing the other man a brief grin, Sukuna nods. “Fine. 3PM, then.”

As he disappears out of the room, Este trails behind him, looking like a lost puppy following after her owner’s heels.

The sight doesn’t give you any malicious afterthought, until it’s Satoru who clears his throat and you look up to find him frowning.

“Don’t you think it’s strange,” he starts, and confusion settles in for you when he nervously darts his gaze away.

“What’s strange?”

Instead of answering you, the Gojo heir lobs you a look of pure disbelief. “Um, hello? Don’t we both have eyes? I’m sure yours is still working, Y/N-kun.”

Your brows knit together, and you mumble a quick, “Huh?”

Satoru heaves in a dramatic sigh, as if he can’t believe he has to do this. “Oh my god, don’t make me spell it out for you—Este and Sukuna.”

You’re genuinely confused now, setting your palette and brush down. “What about the both of them?”

For the first time since you’ve met him, you’re confronted with Gojo’s annoyed stare. Shrinking back, you wait for his anger to overflow, as it tends to do with people in these circles who have little patience for you. And it does—just, surprisingly, not directed at you.

“They think they’re so slick being all cuddly and lovey-dovey right in front of us like we wouldn’t talk,” he hisses. “I’m sure the maids are already gossiping amongst themselves. Sukuna is shameless to act this way—especially to you of all people considering you’re gonna be his future wife.”

You’re struck mute by his observation and without warning, a dull ache pierces your chest. You wince, and look away from those glacial blue eyes, needing some time to compose yourself before you speak cautiously, as if every word you put forward has the potential to trap you under a crushing weight.

“Sukuna and Este have been close friends since they were in university together, Satoru. I trust my fiance and know he wouldn’t hurt me like this,” you pause, biting your lower lip. “Especially when he himself knows what’s at stake if he doesn’t marry me.”

Satoru wrinkles his nose. “Accepting it and actually having to live through it are two different things, Y/N. Imagine if you married him and it’s not the life you want? Would you still be this nonchalant about your fate?”

His intentions come from a good place, but you couldn’t help feeling like a little girl getting a thorough scolding.

Removing your paint-splattered overalls, you drape it over the chair, sighing. “It’s not like I had hopes we would be in love or even happy together, Satoru. As long as Itadori-san respects me, I’m willing to see this marriage through—for the sake of my family.”

The note of finality you elucidate is enough for Satoru to take heed and pause.

You can tell he’s still disgruntled on your behalf, but doesn’t say a word, shrugging his broad shoulders. “You know what, you’re stronger than most of us, Y/N. Anyway, just please be careful and—”

He surprises you by reaching out to grab your wrist, holding you in place. Those icy blue eyes of his melt, transforming into two pools of worry.

“—if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always reach out to me.” He lets go of your wrist, and in a show of kindness you don’t deserve, says:

“I’m here for you as a friend. You’re going to need someone soon enough, Y/N.”

Satoru’s words linger long in your mind as you gaze out of the sedan’s tinted window, dressed in your skiing gear.

The Gojo heir had an emergency meeting to handle and couldn’t follow you to the slopes, so it’s just you, Sukuna and Este.

Butterflies pool in your stomach, their wings collectively beating a disconcerting tune that threatens to spill out of your ribcage. You feel slightly dizzy when the car comes to a stop, right at the lobby of a nearby resort.

Disembarking, you accept your butler’s help to carry your gear, the rumbling of another pair of wheels catching your attention.

Sukuna steps out of the Jeep, Este right behind him as they’re laughter rings through your buzzing ears, dying down once they notice you at the entrance.

His grin takes you off guard, and he sweeps past her, surprising you both by wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Glancing up at him, it’s easy to be blinded by his effortless charisma, the indents of dimples on his cheeks whenever his smile grows too wide.

“Thanks for waiting for us, Y/N. Come on—you’re gonna enjoy this ride.”

You let him steer you towards the practice slopes, and he even bends down to snap on your gear for you, making sure to adjust your helmet and goggles. All three layers of your clothes and windbreaker makes you feel like a bobbing snowman, your grumbles making him snicker.

“At least when you fall on your ass, it’ll be well-padded.”

“What do you mean?” It’s easy to mishear his words as a provocation, especially when he couples them with that devilish smile you’re still getting used to.

Sukuna snorts, handing you the poles an instructor passes to him. “Come on, or we’ll miss the ski lift.”

In your periphery, another instructor helps Este with her boots, and you try not to pay too much attention to how even in multiple layers, she manages to look so effortlessly chic. Her sleek black gear strikes a contrast with the white powdery snow, and compared to your girlish pink jacket and board you borrowed from your mother, it’s clear who’s the seasoned pro.

“I’ll catch you both down the slope, okay?” She chimes as she passes by the two of you. Luckily, your back faces Sukuna, or else you would’ve noticed the slight frown he wore.

“Be careful,” he warns, and she waves him off.

“I know what I’m doing.” Tossing you a smirk, she adds, “Whatever you do, don’t fall flat on your face, Y/N—it won’t be pretty.”

Before you could retort, she’s gliding away towards the ski lift, and you’re left in an awkward state together with your fiance.

“Well, come on,” he mutters gruffly, dropping all pretext now that nobody’s here to see him pretend. “Your mother told us to get back in time for dinner. Let’s move now.”

You follow behind him, trudging in your too big boots and using your ski poles as support. The wind bites through the scarf pulled up high over your cheeks, and you swear your fingers are frozen around the pole. But, you don’t pay any of it too much attention, focusing on following Sukuna right to the ski lift.

He’s a natural with his movements, fluid and sure, and you follow his instructions to lift off the second your board touches the ground. For a split second, you’re cruising down the slope when you’re gaining too much momentum, and speed past him. A scream rips from your throat and you try to slow down, digging in your heels…

Only to fall flat right on your ass, like he predicted.

Soreness radiates from where you’re planted on the ground, and you wince, trying to stand.

Sukuna skids to a stop right in front of you, and instead of helping you up, he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” you whine, and try to stand. Unfortunately, your core muscles aren’t strong enough, and you flop right back down to the ground. He doesn’t assist you, arching a brow and waiting for you to stand.

“Come on. Just tuck in your tailbone and try to stand.”

“I can’t!” you shoot back, giving him a murderous glare. “Help me, damn it.”

Sukuna snorts, and you’re sure he would at least extend a hand, not shrug and kick up snow once he pivots away, joining the black dot in the distance that you recognize as Este.

Humiliation creeps up to you in burning waves, making your face all hot and splotchy.

The snow is starting to make your ski pants wet, and you’re close enough to disregard your dignity and flop onto your belly just for a chance to try and shuffle onto your hands and knees, when a tall figure blocks out the sunlight, casting you in his shadow.

“Damn, already kissing the ground, loser?”

You don’t expect to see Satoru right in front of you, bearing a smirk and an outstretched hand.

“Wait, why’re you here—?”

“Meeting ended early, so I came to watch you embarrass yourself,” he replies and giggles as if it was the funniest joke in the world.

Tossing him a glare, you don’t refute his help, especially when it comes after Sukuna’s rejection. He effortlessly tugs you up, scrutinizing you from head to toe for any injuries. Satisfied at finding none, he turns his attention to another pressing matter.

“They didn’t wait for you?” Satoru questions once you’re stable on your feet. Fighting back shivers from the frigid cold, you shake your head.

He doesn’t say another word, though you can tell the wheels in his head are turning. But, he chooses to shrug it off, gesturing down the peaks, looking tall and sturdy in his professional gray gear and UV protection goggles.

“Race you down to the bottom—loser has to buy the other one a beer!”

“Hey—”

For the second time today, you’re left tasting snow in your mouth when Satoru shoots past you, straight to the end goal. Without any time to waste, you push yourself downwards, maneuvering with the ski poles, hellbent on beating that lanky asshole and showing Sukuna that you could handle yourself.

You’re going faster than before, everything becomes white in your periphery; focusing on passing the break of fir trees faster than Satoru could. Someone calls for you to stop, and you bend your knees, snow flying everywhere, breathing hard when you realize you’re almost at the lip of another cabin.

Huffing, Satoru comes behind you, narrowing his eyes with his cheeks red and puffy.

“Oi, you could’ve collided into a wall with that speed,” he grumbles, but you don’t hear him.

“Did I win?” You look around expectantly, and notice Sukuna trudging towards you both.

“Satoru,” he doesn't sound the least amicable when regarding the other man; in fact, he sounds sort of disappointed. “Why’re you here?”

“I came to see if Y/N could beat your ass,” he smoothly changes his motive, and you gape, wondering if you should call him out in front of your fiance.

“Everything was fine,” he says and jerks his head towards you. “She didn’t die.”

“I wasn’t here for her,” Satoru snorts, and if you weren’t buzzing from the adrenaline, you would’ve noticed Sukuna glaring at him like a cat who’s had its prey snapped up from its jaw by another feline.

Their bickering is interrupted by Este sliding to a stop next to Sukuna, her pale cheeks glowing from the cold. You subconsciously touch your beanie, hoping it's not askew and your hair is not in a mess.

“Stop fighting,” she snorts, the winter breeze playing with the ends of her brown locks. Landing her gaze on you, you’re surprised to find a fond smile etched on her lips, as if you two were close friends rather than awkward acquaintances—another ruse meant to confuse you and Satoru.

“All that matters is Y/N has won and that’s it. I think we should rent a cabin and celebrate.”

Shockingly, it’s Satoru who’s all for it. “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” he enthuses, and you wonder what he has up his sleeve. “I’ll make a call. Excuse me.”

Within seconds when Gojo leaves and you’re left standing, dumbstruck with a frowning Sukuna and an aloof Este, you wonder what you had done in your past life to deserve such excruciating awkwardness. The Nara heiress is scrolling through her phone and Sukuna stifles a yawn, both of them looking like they would be anywhere else in the world rather than here.

“—thank you!”

Everyone perks up when Satoru ambles back to the group, a big grin in place. “Found a spot. Cabin 12. Come on. The owner says they’re usually booked but it’s a rare gem for vacant spots.”

Begrudgingly, you follow Satoru, Este and Sukuna, feeling out of place when the three of them strike up conversations about business and properties, your own knowledge of your father’s company being shoddy at best. All of them come from old money and have seen how their grandfathers ran these companies since they could walk while you, on the other hand, barely visited your father’s office if you could help it.

To say you were a fish out of the water was an understatement.

“... $5 million in notes, they should be launching an IPO anytime soon.”

“Nice,” Sukuna nods appreciatively, sparing Este a sly smile. “40,000 shares would suffice, don’t you think?”

She scoffs, and you wonder why out of everyone else’s word, hers is taken into more consideration than Satoru’s who is the literal heir to the great Gojo Corp.

“Make that 50,000. Projections on profits are at 13% come next quarter. You should bank then buck when January rolls around or else you’re going to suffer.”

Satoru hums, and turns back to look at you, the glint in his ice-blue eyes cajoling you to join in the conversation and not linger behind the group like a silent shadow.

“Dreaming of opening any big businesses, Y/N?”

Uncomfortable with the sudden attention on you, your eyes fall to the snow-packed ground, buying yourself time to reply. “Um… I told Itadori-san before that I wanted to open an art gallery—”

“Why?” Before you could even finish your thought, Este interrupts you with a scoff. She looks at you like you’ve failed a simple comprehension test, her mauve lips tautly pulled into a pout. “Art galleries are money drainers, Y/N. Even a child knows that.”

She scrutinizes you from head to toe, and you can’t help the shiver tearing through you which has nothing to do with the sub zero mountain temperature.

“Galleries are for bored wives of rich men who have nothing to do and nothing to show for.” She waves a hand towards Sukuna’s direction. “But, I suppose that’s all your life will be once you marry Sukuna, isn’t that right?”

You don’t know how to answer her, and you’re spared from this cringeworthy situation when Satoru exclaims, “We’re here!”

Saved by the bell, you hasten your steps, catching up to Gojo and leaving both Sukuna and Este behind.

Satoru leans close, and to anyone else it looks like he’s trying to tell you a joke, but the reality could not be any different.

“Don’t let her get to you, okay?” He advises, an easygoing smile on his lips though you can detect an undercurrent of tension from his words. “It isn’t worth it to get worked up over people like her.”

You want to ask him what he means by people like her when you catch your tongue, coming to the slow realization.

Both Sukuna and Este were two sides of the same coin, equally vicious and mean-spirited towards you when you meant no harm. Does Satoru know about how treats me behind doors and makes me sleep on the floor when we’re supposed to share a bed together? You debate telling him about it, wondering how he would react; if he would recoil in disgust or shrug as if such a thing were normal.

There isn’t any time to reconsider when he opens the door, leading everyone into a simple yet clean looking living room space with wide windows and a tiny fireplace belching out heat.

“Let’s rest here and reconvene later to go back up to our base,” Gojo suggests. No one refutes him, too tired to make the long trek back to the hotel lobby and wait for their Range Rovers to arrive. “Y/N,” he looks at you, “Do you want to help me in the kitchen?”

Satoru cooks? You wonder what else the Gojo heir can surprise you with. As you tag along and follow the white-haired man into the kitchen, you feel someone’s gaze on you.

Turning back, you see Sukuna’s sharp stare piercing through you.

But, before you can open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong, he drops his gaze and sinks onto the couch, ignoring your existence once again.

“... reports of a snowstorm ravaging Mount Hakodate... advised to stay inside... skiing operations are suspended for the time being…”

Heavy snowfall batters against the glass windows, the hail gusting outside rattling the cabin’s hollow walls as the radio cracks the news in the background.

You’re huddled up next to Satoru, close to the fireplace while Sukuna stays by your right, Este tucked right next to him.

The reason for such close proximity isn’t because of want, but because of the embers glowing faintly from the fireplace and the lack of firewood which spikes unspoken worries across the room. You fight back a shiver, imagining your mother’s frantic worry and your father trying to reason with the other parents to bring down a rescue team for his daughter and future son-in-law.

No one could’ve anticipated such a setback, the snowstorm warning coming in shortly after the doors started rattling and white snow blankets the outside world, covering the windows and effectively locking everyone inside until further notice.

Your stomach growls and you’re reminded that besides some spiked eggnog, you’ve barely eaten anything for the day.

“We should’ve left for the lodge when we had a chance,” Este grumbles. Sukuna echoes her frustration in a sigh.

“I’m going to lie down on the bed, it’s too cramped here,” he complains, mouth set in a sour line as he trudges towards a nearby room. Satoru watches and waits to see if Este would follow him, but she doesn’t, wisely staying put to not draw more attention to her.

Smart girl, he thinks. She’s playing the long-term game. He shudders to think what would happen if he wasn’t here with you—how she wouldn’t bother to hide behind a facade as she sinks her talons into your fiance.

Satoru casts a look towards you, and what he feels bubbling in his chest catches him unexpectedly.

He wants nothing more than for you to open your eyes to what he can clearly see right in front of him. But, you’re too innocent and sweet for your own good. You think no one has it out for you, when this world is made of thorns and deception, thriving on the strong devouring the weak. And as the strongest, he has a duty to watch out for those who can’t even protect themselves.

“We’ll get home safely,” he says to the quiet room. You smile at his attempt at trying to comfort the both of you, while Este rolls her eyes petulantly, ever the pessimist.

“We better,” she grumbles, inspecting her nails and frowning when she finds her pinkie nail chipped. “I need another dose of retinol… this cold is making me shrivel up.”

You can tell Satoru is resisting the urge to snort because you’re trying your hardest not to as well.

Catching his eye, you think it’s not so bad to be caught in this storm if you had him by your side.

“So,” he starts, ignoring Este and focusing on you. “You beat me at the race. When would you like to claim your free beer?”

You miss how the brunette gives you a look laced with shock and outward contempt. Satoru’s attention is not on her either, the both of you collectively deciding to ignore her like she was a piece of furniture in this room.

“I guess whenever you’re free.” Unable to resist subtly throwing Este’s words back in her face, you mumble, “Maybe after I set up the gallery because that’s all my life will be—boring—so you’ll have to brighten it a little, Satoru.”

He exhales a laugh, and from the corner of your eye, you see Este shooting you a look of vitriol.

Keeping up with your wit, the white-haired man snorts, shaking his head.

“Anything to liven up a bored, rich wife’s life, am I right?”

The minute all four of you return to safety once the snowstorm subsides, your mother calls for a party to celebrate.

Barely finding your footing out of the Range Rover and back to the warmth of the lodge, you’re whisked away to get ready for the night, this confusing turn of events exacerbated by Sukuna’s distance when you both have a chance to unwind in the shared room.

He doesn’t utter a word when you set your clothes on the bed, faraway gaze locked in the distance as if he couldn’t be bothered with your presence.

“Itadori-san, you didn’t catch a cold, right?”

His attention snaps back to you, and you shrink back, wondering if you’ve done something wrong judging from his bitter glare.

“Why don’t you ask Gojo instead, hmm? Seeing as you’re both being so chummy together.”

You pause from the motion of wiping your face, gaping at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Your fiance, who only a few hours ago barely cared to help you to your feet from the slopes, advances towards you, a sneer on his handsome face as he corners you flush to the wall, close enough for you to smell the threatening anger wafting off of him.

“Don’t you fucking play stupid with me, woman,” he snarls. “I saw the way you looked at him. Do you want me to tell daddy that his little girl is two-timing her fiance with another man?”

Grating and mocking. His words send a chill up your spine. You want to fight back—to tell him that he’s wrong and that if anyone is to be blamed, it’s him with his blatant preference for Este over you. But, the words can’t fall from your tongue. To say them would be to confront their existence, and you’re not sure if you have the courage to cross that bridge just yet.

The idea of your fiance preferring another woman, even if she’s his friend, doesn't sit right with you. Coupled with the fact that he’s never once spoken ill of her and solely chose to treat you harshly makes you wonder if Satoru’s words were right—if Este and Sukuna are more than just friends.

“You’re insane,” you splutter, pushing him away. “Satoru and I are just friends. Unlike you and Este.”

His sneer falters, and you swear for a single second you see a sheen of fear in his vermillion eyes. It’s instantly replaced with disdain.

“Now, you’re the one who’s insane. Este?” He scoffs and grabs your arm, dragging you close enough so you’re face-to-face with him. Heart in your throat, you feel the fear pressing close to you, breathing down your neck like a terrifying poltergeist.

“Don’t you dare insinuate something like that.” He lets you go, pushing you away, leaving you to stumble and hold onto the wall to right yourself. “Know your place, Y/N.”

The storm of his retribution passes, and he leaves you alone with your chaotic thoughts, mind racing a mile a minute.

Anger… fear… injustice…

It all coalesces in you until you feel its tightening grip around your throat. Your vision narrows to nothing but your trembling palms; your heart is beating so erratically you think it might claw out of your chest.

You hear nothing. See nothing.

Why? The unfairness crashes into you, clogging your mind, numbing to sensations until you feel like you exist in a vacuum, floating aimlessly in a void created by the lack of your fiance’s presence.

He hates you. Sukuna hates you with every fiber of his being.

You thought it was a joke; a blip of his personality where he takes time to open up and get to know a person. But, right off the bat, he’s never liked you.

For what reason? You try to wrack your brain for a hint of wrongdoing you’ve committed against him, shuffling through memories, micro-expressions, a change in the mood or tone which signifies the reason for his deep seated anger towards you.

Your rumination comes up empty.

You stagger back onto the bed, feeling its softness for the first time in days, casting your gaze to the alcove with a futon, blanket and pillow he’s made you sleep on so he doesn’t have to be burdened by your presence.

Humiliation grates you like a shredder, sloughing away your defenses until only anger remains and you stagger to your feet, fists clenched to your side.

You were going to ask him the reason once and for all.

Why do you hate me?

What have I ever done to you?

Do you even want this marriage in the first place?

What average people didn’t know about the ultra rich was that they were born with a different set of shackles—restraints which many of them couldn’t even comprehend.

Unlike the other individuals in your society concerned with superficial things like money, status or accumulated wealth, your concern has and always will be, your family’s well being. It didn’t matter what role you had to play. You understood from a young age how important you were to your father’s legacy—his position in this society—and you would do anything to help him advance it.

That was your role. These were your shackles.

And didn’t Sukuna have the same type of burden?

He, too, was raised with the idea of duty above all—duty above love. Above selfishness and lust.

If anyone is to understand your predicament, it would be the man you were set to weather these storms with.

Rounding the corner, you pass the in-house glass garden, about to wander towards the bar when you hear the unmistakable sound of someone sniffling. You hide in the shadows, the light of a mock gaslight throwing you into complete anonymity. Only a sliver of light graces the barely-lit hallway where the open door and a sudden, heavy sadness pricks your curiosity.

There’s a pause. An unsteady breath.

“He’s brought the wedding forward,” you hear the voice murmur, and it strikes you with his deepness—Sukuna’s richness and despair.

Inching closer towards the parted door, you hear him groan and exude a shuddering breath.

He’s crying. The astonishment doesn’t last, shattered by him cursing under his breath.

“I can’t marry her. I don’t ever want to marry. I’m not… not the type…”

He trails off and there’s another shuddering exhale.

It hits you then that he’s sobbing.

“Fucking Jiro. He won’t stop until he’s destroyed us. I will never forgive him for what he did to our family. Never in a million years—”

Sukuna breaks off, muffling a keen with what sounded like his palm.

“And Jin, he—” Sukuna curses. “He just fucking agrees with no hesitation? Like this? Fuck!”

The sound of glass shatters, making you flinch.

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t—” He chokes off, and you think this might be it; he’s going to call off the engagement tonight.

“But, what about the merger money?”

Nothing in the world could prepare you for such a shock.

Este’s soft voice ripples around you like a bomb that’s just been activated, shaking you so badly you have to cover your mouth to keep from gasping out loud.

“It’s just until the transaction is complete. That’s like, what—? A year? You can be with her for just a year, Ryo. Then, once it’s done—”

“I’ll divorce her,” Sukuna vows, and shards of pain stab into you with how resolute he sounds.

Like he’s already made up his mind even before giving you the chance to change it.

The wool is lifted from your eyes, and panic settles around you, muffling your every thought, making you sick to the stomach.

What should I do? Do I tell my parents? Do I go on with this? Is this real? Is he just drunk? Why is Este with him? Are they together? Is she conspiring with him? Will he hurt me? Why does he hate my family? What did my father do? What should I do?

What should I do?

a/n. ruh-roh

btw feedbacks and reblogs will always be loved <3 thank you for supporting my story this far i luv u

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my work, repost, change the sentence structures, translate across any other platforms. and claim as your own

#🦢 writes #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #jjk series #jjk fic #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #series: hopelessly devoted

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qiu-yan · 1 month ago

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all of the above are plot elements i've seen be called "plot holes" in various MDZS forums and discussions.

please explain your reasoning in the notes!!!!

explanations / possible fillings for plot holes:

qin su and abortions: one major reason why jin guangyao did not call off his marriage to qin su even after finding out that they were actually half-siblings is that qin su was already pregnant by that point, as the two had had premarital sex. it seems like this problem could be fixed, though, if jin guangyao caused qin su to miscarry somehow (eg. by sneaking abortifacients into her tea).

potential explanations:

abortifacients don't work on cultivators

jin guangyao wanted to respect qin su's bodily autonomy and did not want to cause her pain by causing her to miscarry, but he also could not think of an argument that would convince qin su to willingly get an abortion.

even if the pregnancy disappeared, it was still too late for jin guangyao to call off the marriage.

wen ning agreeing to help with the golden core transfer: at the time of the golden core transfer, wen ning already cares a great deal for wei wuxian - i mean, he betrayed his entire sect by smuggling jiang cheng out of the occupied lotus pier just because wei wuxian, who was nice to him once about his archery, asked him to. meanwhile, wen ning must have known what was actually going on once wei wuxian decided to transfer his golden core to jiang cheng, given that wen ning helped wen qing with the procedure. now, to me, it seems that if you care about someone, you should not allow them to literally give essential parts of themselves away and should instead try to prevent them from acting so self-destructively. to me, it seems that if wen ning really did care about wei wuxian, then he should have stopped wei wuxian from setting himself on fire to keep someone else warm.

possible explanations:

to wen ning, [helping someone do something they're determined to do, even if said thing is self-destructive] is a bigger demonstration of love and care than [imposing your own will over theirs by stopping them from self-destructing].

wei wuxian threatened to kill himself if wen ning and wen qing didn't help him with the golden core transfer.

wen ning legitimately thought that wei wuxian would be fine without his golden core and/or underestimated the negative consequences for wei wuxian, and thus did not perceive this as a self-harming act.

wen ning cared more about getting wei wuxian's approval and keeping wei wuxian happy than he cared about wei wuxian's physical and mental wellbeing.

once wen qing and wei wuxian committed to the golden core transfer, wen ning did not have the courage to speak up against them and/or saw that disagreeing would be useless.

wen ning also wanted to know if his sister's theory would work.

wei wuxian and lying about wen zhuliu getting him: one of the major factors straining jiang cheng and wei wuxian's relationship post-sunshot is that wei wuxian is no longer able to perform many of the second-in-command duties he had promised jiang cheng he would do, but he cannot tell jiang cheng why (ie. because he no longer has a golden core) because he does not want jiang cheng to find out that wei wuxian gave jiang cheng his own golden core. however, it seems like wei wuxian could get around this by telling jiang cheng that wen zhuliu also got wei wuxian later, which is both highly plausible and would explain why wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore without suggesting any sort of transfer.

potential explanations:

wei wuxian didn't want jiang cheng to know at all that he didn't have a golden core anymore.

wei wuxian worried that any hint of "wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore" would eventually lead to jiang cheng figuring out the truth about the golden core transfer.

wei wuxian doesn't want jiang cheng to feel guilty about "stealing" wei wuxian's "chance to meet baoshan sanren and get his core restored."

wei wuxian doesn't want to think about the fact that he no longer has a golden core at all.

wei wuxian didn't think of this. (plausible given wei wuxian's personality)

wen remnants not changing their names and going into hiding: after wei wuxian busts the wen remnants out of the qiongqi pass labor camp, he sets up shop in the yiling burial mounds with himself as their protector; this way, neither the jin nor anyone else can try to harm the wen remnants, because they'd have to go through wei wuxian first. however, what this decision also entails is that all of the wen remnants are now highly associated with wei wuxian; thus, once wei wuxian's reputation goes south enough, all the wen remnants under his protection get dragged down and killed with him. it seems that some of the less high-profile wen remnants (ie. the ones who are not wen ning or wen qing) could have avoided this had they changed their names and gone into hiding, preferably somewhere far away from this part of the jianghu, instead of all sticking together in the highly-visible burial mounds. even if lanling jin and the other sects have a high amount of influence in the local area, there's still an entire world out there; they could have tried fleeing to a different country. even if this option is not possible, at the very least, it should have been discussed and shot down (with an explanation) in the story.

possible explanations:

the burial mounds were under constant surveillance, so there was no chance for the wen remnants to escape without getting caught and killed.

lanling jin's influence is so far-reaching and powerful that there was no way the wen remnants could have fled far enough to go into hiding without getting caught first.

the wen remnants wanted to keep their family name and stick together with their family members.

the option was discussed and dismissed as implausible entirely offscreen.

jiang cheng not hunting down xue yang: the story's narration states that jiang cheng is widely believed to have consistently hunted down, tortured, and killed countless demonic cultivators, specifically because he believes they could be wei wuxian resurrected. meanwhile, xue yang is fairly well known due to his incredibly public massacre of the chang sect and then baixue temple and subsequent employment by lanling jin. furthermore, after xue yang was removed from jinlintai, xue yang set up shop in yi city, where he very openly killed a bunch of people and turned them into fierce corpses; in fact, one could consider the ghost-town status of yi city at the story's start to be due in no small part to xue yang's actions. however, despite xue yang being a very well-known demonic cultivator who has continued to openly demonically-cultivate, nothing in the text suggests that jiang cheng ever tried to hunt down xue yang. this seems to present a contradiction with the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down demonic cultivators.

possible explanations:

jiang cheng already knows that xue yang was not wei wuxian, so he doesn't care about xue yang.

jiang cheng fully believes that jin guangyao successfully killed xue yang upon becoming sect leader jin, and yi city is remote enough that no mention of xue yang's activities has ever reached jiang cheng.

jiang cheng got his ass kicked by xue yang entirely offscreen and it just never came up in the story.

the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down and killing demonic cultivators are not entirely correct.

lan wangji freely ditching lan xichen at the end of the story: the story ends with lan xichen basically getting put into the blender. first he finds out that his bestie jin guangyao actually orchestrated the death of nie mingjue and super lied about it, and then he's tricked by nie huaisang into stabbing jin guangyao. he's not doing too great. yet, at the end of the guanyin temple scene, instead of checking on his brother or even offering a single "are you okay?", lan wangji immediately fucks off into the sunset with wei wuxian. given that lan xichen was relatively supportive of lan wangji during lan wangji's 13 years of mourning, to many on this website, this reads as a failure of familial duties that lan wangji goes entirely uncriticized for by the narrative.

possible explanations:

it was an intentional writing decision and not a plot hole. MXTX thinks that, because lan xichen failed to see through jin guangyao's lies, lan xichen therefore deserves to suffer, so lan wangji is morally justified in ding dong ditching him.

lan wangji did screw up here, but it's an internally-consistent writing decision, not a plot hole. lan wangji is meant to read as a younger brother character who is more used to being taken care of than taking care of others.

no lube: at the end of the story, wei wuxian and lan wangji fuck nasty in some bushes. without any lube. the lack of some sort of lubricant, at least, doesn't seem to cause any problems with the anal sex itself.

possible explanations:

cultivator's asses are self-lubricating, or at the very least repair damage at an incredibly high speed.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian was a virgin up until now so he just thinks this is normal.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian is into it.

there was lube op just forgot (plausible because i only skimmed that section)

almost every sect leader unmarried: in this sort of setting, where blood and not ability determines inheritance, it seems like producing heirs and thus securing the future of the sect/clan should be of the highest importance. however, nie mingjue, lan xichen, jiang cheng, and later nie huaisang are all unmarried, and don't seem to have any heirs either. this goes doubly for the nie sect, who know themselves that they live shorter lives due to their cultivation style.

potential explanations:

cultivators live a really long time so it's not as pressing an issue.

there are wives and heirs, they are just offscreen.

gonna be real boss i got nothing else

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #wen qing #wen ning #qin su #xue yang #yanyan polls #mo dao zu shi

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springalwayscomes · 1 year ago

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Closer

Closer (Teaser) Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 27k

Content Warning: mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, pining, minor injury, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, masturbation, hand job, dry humping, multiple orgasms, love making, creampie

Author’s Note: Hello! I had the first line of this fic stuck in my notes for a while, it stayed there without really going anywhere, then inspiration came and the miracle happened in a few days. I like this so much so I hope you will like it too! There are some parts that just do things to my heart, one of these is inspired by Gaelforce. I don’t know if you follow him but if you do you sure will realise when you’ll get there!

Let me know what you think about it, again I hope you’ll like it!💜

If you want to be tagged in my taglis to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it.

He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it.

He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.

Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers.

Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance.

«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.

He licks his lips, shaking his head.

«Your vibrator still haunts me»

It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about.

«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»

«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»

«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun.

«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.

«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.

«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»

«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.

«Want some?»

You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.

«No, thanks. I’m full with these»

He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa.

«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»

«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.

«Hell, yeah» he laughs.

«You literally-»

«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.

«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.

«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.

It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been.

«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.

«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.

«That vibrator»

«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.

«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.

«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.

«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside.

«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend.

«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.

«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?»

You can’t believe him.

«Jungkook!» he laughs, bright and out loud, crystal clear. It makes your insides twist and turn with the need of shutting him up.

It’s not like it’s a everyday thing, sleeping together. It just happened three times, out of the blue. You both agreed that it’s not something big, something that will change your bond or friendship, it’s just something that… you both needed? In those moments, you guess. Maybe mentally? However you try to justify it, the answer is always the same: nothing is going to change between you. It’s just sex. But for the sake of your relationship, you try to keep it where it belongs: in bed. Talking about such things outside can be confusing, it can lead your friendship too places you don’t want it to be. You love Jungkook, as your friend. Being too sexual won’t lead to good places, just a fucked up friendship and a fuckbuddy living with you. So you both better keep your minds at bay, don’t pass the limits of friendship at least when you can.

«I’m going to get a shower» you announce, shutting the tv and getting up from the couch. His eyes are questioning, but you just tap his shoulder.

«Put this away, please?» you hand the pop corns to Jungkook. He grabs the bag.

«Why?» you’re already almost out of the living room when he asks.

«I’m going out tonight!»

«With the girls?» he raises his voice a bit to make you hear him from the other room, as he looks for a peg in the drawer to close the popcorns.

«Yeah, it’s Eunji’s birthday!» you remind him. Jungkook winces, he knows what that means. You will come back home late, and you’ll end up being awake until morning cause you hate going to clubs and will feel like you have to make up for the six hours you lost in there. You still do it, for your friends, but it’s something that you don’t enjoy a lot. If you add the fact that you don’t actually drink, that makes it all even worse.

«What about Jimin?» he’s out of your bedroom door, you can hear it from how close his voice sounds. Thank god he has a good sense of privacy, cause you’re naked.

«They were together the whole day, tonight is girl’s night» you answer. Jungkook nods, telling himself he’s going to ask him to come over later.

«I’m taking a shower now!» you let him know the conversation is going to end, already walking to your bathroom.

«She said it’s girls’ night, so» Jimin’s munching on a chicken’s wing with so much eagerness it looks like he hasn’t been eating for a week.

Namjoon nods at him, getting a beer from the fridge.

«You’ve been together the whole day, though»

«I know» he answers, «what can I do if I want to spend every second with her?»

«I feel like I’m gonna throw up» Yoongi murmurs from beside him, giving him the most disgusted glance ever. Jungkook laughs.

«What have you all been up to lately?»

Hoseok sits on the carpet, ready to start eating as he waits for the group’s answer.

Jin shrugs.

«Just work. The restaurant is always full, I think I might die from overworking»

«Listen to him bragging» Taehyung pats his hyung’s shoulder.

«I’m not! It’s going well, but it’s fucking tiring! Last night I came home to Hana and… nnghh, why am I so dumb?» he closes his eyes, breathing through his teeth.

«What happened?» Jungkook asks.

«She’d kill me if she knew I told you this,» he gulps a big sip of beer down «you have to promise me it won’t slip out of your dead-ass mouths»

«When did we ever say-»

«That time?» Yoongi’s question gets cut off, Jin’s eyes big as they remind him of what happened last time.

«It wasn’t me! It was Tae!»

«Yah, I didn’t do it on purpose» he fights, holding back a laughter.

«Alright, stop. Just don’t make it happen again» Seokjin gives him a fiery glance.

«She was like, really in the mood and… I told her I would take a shower and then go to bed with her but my muscles were so sore I decided to run a bath. I felt asleep. She waited up for me for a whole hour,» he takes a bite from the chicken «she was… god, what did I do? I was so tired I didn’t do it on purpose but she felt rejected or humiliated I guess… I’m such a-»

«Hyung, you were just tired» Jungkook stops his rant. Namjoon nods.

«You should talk to her»

«I didn’t get the chance, she left earlier this morning and didn’t answer my texts all day» he answers, eyes gloomy as he pours himself another glass of beer.

«Wait for her up, she’ll come back after they are done with the club» Yoongi proposes. Jin nods.

«What about you?» he asks.

«I’m good» he smiles. A little too much, actually. It’s too bright, too much.

«You’re good?» Hoseok smiles at him, already knowing that there’s something else. There has to be, with him smiling like that.

«Really good» he echoes.

At this point, Jin hits his shoulder.

«Yah, give us the good stuff!»

The music in the background fills the air as Yoongi ponders on how to explain what’s happening in his life at the moment, a big smile taking over his features.

«I’m…» he smiles again «I’m going to be a dad»

«What?!» it’s a scream that comes out loud, the same word coming from every single person present. The man nods, eyes teary. It makes Jungkook’s heart squeeze, to see his hyung so happy. The room is filled with happiness, as they all proceed to ask questions, hugs and congratulations getting shared. After all, he and Hyunjoo have been trying for the last year. The night is filled just like that, with jokes and laughs until Jin and Jimin decide that it’s time to go back home to wait for their girlfriends, the others deciding to stay until you will be back to say hello and goodbye to Jungkook.

It’s when the bell rings that they know that something is definitely weird. The knock on the door too sounds eager for you, and when Jungkook gets up to open it what they hear right after makes their eyes shoot right open.

«Fuck, are you drunk? Who took you home? Why did you drink?»

«Leave me alone» you stutter as you try to walk inside, Jungkook’s arm getting to your waist. You can’t even stand, how much did you drink?

«Who took you home?» to say he sounds worried sick is an understatement.

«Some guy with a really pretty dick» you laugh. Taehyung gets up, everyone following after him. They never saw you drunk, simply because you just don’t drink. You don’t like the taste of alcohol, can’t even gulp down a sip of beer properly without having to go brush your teeth, apart from the fact that you can’t hold it. Half of a glass is enough to make you the drunkest version of yourself; apparently now it’s not like that anymore.

«What?» the shock from seeing you like this makes Jungkook hold his words back, first he needs to make you sit somewhere.

«Grab a wet towel, or just… water, give me water!» he orders around. Someone gives him just what he asked for, and he doesnt even spend time in thanking them as he wipes the makeup off from your face.

«Water» Yoongi gives him a glass.

«Why- you’re here! Hello!» you wave to your friends, Taehyung smiling at you.

«My bestest friend! Tae, I missed you» you whine, grabby hands reach for his wrist, making him sit next to you.

«Yah! I’m your bestest friend!» Jungkook shakes his head.

«I missed you too» Taehyung scoffs, your head falling on his shoulder. Jungkook hisses, it’s harder to get your makeup off when half of your face is squashed like this.

«Why did you drink so much?» Taehyung tries.

«I was… feeling left out? I can’t remeber well» you murmur, chuckles coming out as you decide it’s time to mess with Jungkook. Every time he tries to wipe a part of your face, you just turn in the opposite direction.

«Will you stay still?» he shakes his head, annoyed.

«You’re a pain in the ass, Jungkook. I hate you»

«I think it’s better if you go home, she needs a shower» Jungkook turns to face Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. They look pretty shocked, but worry is weighting down on them more.

«Are you sure? We can help you?» Hoseok tries, but he shakes his head again.

«It’s fine, I got this»

«Don’t go! Why are you kicking them out! So annoying» you fight, holding Taehyung’s arm tighter.

«I’m not kicking them out, but you need to shower and get changed and they- just…» he turns again «Don’t worry, just go home and rest. I got this» he repeats.

It’s 5.43 am. And it’s so frustrating that you’re laying by his side, sleeping, while his eyes are wide open.

You might not feel good, so it’s better anyway, he tells himself.

Jungkook is annoyed. A lot, actually. Why, he doesn’t get it. Your words echo in his mind, making him bite on the inside of his cheek when he should be resting.

Did you sleep with someone? It very much sounded like it. A really pretty dick? He scoffs. The adjective sounds almost out of place, still he feels his insides burning even hotter. He wants to ask you right now, but you’re sleeping. Again, he should be too, actually.

He decides it’s better if he sleeps on the sofa, you’re asleep anyway, so you won’t make a fuss about it. He lifts the covers, gently and slowly, then sits on the bed, a leg already out and his foot laying on the ground. The cold makes him wince.

«Don’t go» you hold his wrist, digits caressing his skin.

«Stay with me,» you plead «I’m not feeling good»

His defences fall down instantly. It’s hard not to succumb when you’re murmuring against him. He does it without you having to ask twice, his foot back under the warm covers.

«Hold me?» you ask. It’s low, sweet and sleepy, and he guesses you’re still drunk but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, your head lays on his chest as you would do after having sex. Jungkook holds his breath and swears to himself, he needs to slow down his heartbeat because it seems like his heart is going to combust.

«I don’t hate you,» your voice is faint

«I’m sorry I told you I hate you, Kookie»

«It’s okay» he caresses your hair, trying to make you relax.

«Just get some sleep» he can’t hold himself back, not when you’re laying in his arms so defenceless and looking so frail and delicate. His lips land on your forehead, soft and gentle, incredibly caring. You don’t say anything though, you’re already asleep.

«Alright, what is it?» Taehyung snaps at him, eyes fixed on the maknae. Jin nods, eyebrows high.

«Nothing» Jungkook shrugs, going back to stare at the screen. The movie isn’t playing, stopped by Taehyung.

«It doesn’t seem like nothing» he answers back.

Yoongi taps Jungkook’s shoulder.

«Tell it to Yoongi hyung?» he smiles.

Jungkook scoffs. It’s something he used to tell him when he was younger, it would reassure him to know that there was someone older than him to relay on and to count on. Now, though, Yoongi can’t do anything about it.

«I’m your hyung too» Taehyung pats his other shoulder.

«Me too» Jimin adds.

«We’re all older, we got it» Namjoon looks at the two who are smiling wide at Jungkook.

«Talk to us? We could help» he prompts.

«I just… I don’t know» he doesn’t know where to start from. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling so bothered about it, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.

«I don’t know… why?»

«What? We can’t understand like this» the confusion is clear on Hoseok’s features.

Jungkook sighs, deep and shaky, head falling on the cushion of the couch.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» he declares, bringing the back of his hand on his eyes.

«What?» it’s Jimin and Jin, ready to ask why he didn’t tell them. Yoongi glares at them in a second, shutting them up before they even have the chance to start.

«And?» he coos.

«And- she… slept with someone else» he adds. It’s blurry, and the situation is not clear, but just seeing Jungkook like this makes all of them on the edge.

«Are you in a relationship? Or you just-»

«We’re not» he answers Namjoon.

«We’re not, but…» he doesn’t finish.

He can’t believe himself. What the hell is this about? It’s not like you agreed on being exclusive, you didn’t even talk too much about what happened, it just happened, three fucking times. And god, how fucking good it was. The best sex he’s ever had. Fuck, he didn’t even think about someone else after sleeping with you.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest of choices since he’s been fighting against his feelings for six years, but until now they were pretty good. He dated, you dated, he kept them at bay and they didn’t get in the way.

«You wish you were» Yoongi finishes his sentence.

Silence fills the air. Jungkook feels like he’s going to throw up. You wish you were, it’s the only thing playing in his head. He wishes you were. That’s the point, that’s the fucking point. He wishes you’d see in him what he’s been seeing in you for all these years, he wishes you’d crave his touch just like he craves yours, in the same way. He wishes you could share more than just a home and bills, friendship and bags of popcorns. He wishes for more, and fuck, he’s been so fucking stupid all along to think that a little taste couldn’t do too bad, to think that he could have at least that much.

«Have you talked to her?» Jin tries. Jungkook shakes his head, the back of his hand still pressed against his eyes.

«Why don’t you try?»

«Why would I? We’re friends»

«Fuckbuddies?» Jimin asks «How can you be-» Taehyung slaps him on the neck. A faint moan coming out of his friend’s lips.

«Shut up»

«No, friends. We’re friends» he slightly raises his voice on the last word, to make it clear.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

«You mean you… you’ve been sleeping together but you’re friends?»

«Isn’t it clear?» Jin looks at him like Yoongi has two heads, eyes trying to suggest something that no one gets. His head moves as to beckon him to something that’s right in front of him, Yoongi’s expression still clueless. Then, he gets it.

«Y/n! Is it Y/n? What the hell Jungkook!» he breaks out. Everyone’s eyes shot right open, Jungkook’s hand falling on his lap as he realises that there’s no way back.

«When? Why?»

«It just… happened» he sighs, eyes closing again.

«When?» Taehyung can’t believe what he’s hearing.

«Four months ago,» he murmurs «the first time»

«How many times? Oh, my god» Jin wants to know everything, every little detail. Not sexually, it would be awkward since you’re his friend, but every thing he can, he has to know.

«Three»

«Three?» He repeats.

«Three times,» Jungkook says again «I don’t know what to-»

«Is it because of the guy with the pretty dick?» Yoongi asks. Jungkook tilts his head, glaring at his hyung.

«Okay, it is»

«Talk to her» Hoseok prompts but he only gets a big, steady shake of the maknae’s head.

«She was drunk. Do you know what you’re doing? Like, have you talked about it at least? Are you exclusive with each other?»

«We didn’t, and I guess we’re not» Jungkook answers Jin, not really in the mood for all of his questions.

«Jungkook, you have to-»

His phone rings, cutting Hoseok off. Your name comes up on the screen, everyone’s eyes and ears ready to steal information, Jungkook’s thumb stopping before hitting the green icon. He takes a deep breath, then answers.

«What-»

«Jungkook, please help me»

Something inside him snaps, worry filling every part of his being. Your voice is shaky, fragile. It sounds like you’re crying.

«What, what happened? Where are you?»

«At home,» you whimper «I’m in the tub. I slipped and, I can’t move. It hurts»

«Fuck, wait I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone, don’t move. Please, don’t move, okay?» he’s already on the way to the door of Taehyung’s house, their eyes fixed on him in worry. He waves goodbye before closing the door, mouthing “emergency” at their inspecting eyes.

«Fuck, are you okay?»

To say he’s worried sick is an understatement. His eyes travel to every part of your body to make sure that you’re not hurt, until they reach your arms covering your chest.

«Don’t look! Give me the bathrobe» you want to cry, you feel so embarrassed that you actually could.

«Yes!» he passes it to you quickly, helping you as best as he can with his face turned to the side. He wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter if he sees you like this cause it already happened but he guesses you might feel embarrassed or just not at ease, so he shuts up and does what he has to.

«It’s fine, I…» your voice trembles. You hold his wrist on the side of the tub, fingers cold and wet.

«It’s fine, it’s alright. Ssshh, don’t cry» he kneels down, his arms wrapping around you and leading your head to his chest.

«I’m not crying» you whisper, gulping down.

«You’re about to,» he caresses your hair «I’m here. I got you» he feels his throat tightening. He was so fucking worried he run two red lights while coming home, all the ones he met.

«I always got you» he coos.

For some reason, his words make you shake in his hold, a faint whimper coming out as you let the tears fall. The embarrassment and the stress about the situation, the pain of your ankle and his presence seem to mix together to combine into a perfect crying solution.

«You won’t tease me about this, right?» you mumble, voice muffled. Jungkook’s heart feels slightly reassured at your words, a weak smile gracing his lips.

«I won’t, baby. I promise» he whispers.

Your faint sobs fill the air, and he feels like his poor heart will break only by listening. His fingertips dig into your bathrobe so much it’s like you feel them on your skin, his other hand caresses your hair, his breath shaky.

He waits for your weeps to summer down and stays like this a little longer, his presence reassuring and his touch relaxing you.

«Let’s get you out of here, okay?» he asks. You nod. He’s gentle when he parts his arms from around you, gentle when he tells you to relax, gentle when he smiles at you, soothing.

«Where does it hurt?»

«My ankle» you let him know. His eyes travel down, hands getting wet in the water as he lightly feels both of them.

«There» you hold back your breath, the pain makes you grimace.

«Okay, just… can you get up? Just lean on me and don’t put weight on your right leg. Lean on me» he instructs. You follow his words and try to get up as best as you can, leaning your weight on him and keeping your ankle up. Jungkook helps you out of the bathtub, his hands coming to your back and the back of your legs to pick you up. He makes sure not to hurt your ankle with any movement, eyes on your face to check in with you without having to ask.

The path to your bedroom is silent, he lays you on your bed and tells you he will change the sheets himself afterwards because of the wet bathrobe.

«I think you need a pillow, you need to keep your ankle up» he works diligently, worry guiding him until he realises you’re set. On the bed, with the pillow underneath your ankle, comfortable, kind of.

«Do you want ice? Wait, I’ll get it with something to drink» he lets you know. He vanishes out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the ice, then goes back to the bathroom to get a towel to wrap around it so it isn’t too cold.

When he comes back, he smiles at you.

«You need to drink at least a bit» he hands you the glass. He sits next to you, looks as you gulp down the entire glass with a proud smile, his hand reaching out to take the glass back and put it on your nightstand. You stay with your mouth closed, still too embarrassed to say anything.

He puts the ice on your ankle, careful not to hurt you more than what you’re hurting already. It’s an instinct he doesn’t think of or can fight back, when he strokes your hair tenderly. It makes you gulp, heart swelling in your chest.

«I was so fucking scared» he admits, low and shaky, almost a whisper.

«I’m sorry» you really are. He was enjoying his night with your friends after a hard week of work, and you called him and made him come all the way home, worried and-

«It’s okay, don’t worry» he smiles.

«But we should go to the hospital, your ankle is a bit swollen and-»

«Not now, please» you refuse.

«Y/n, you really should»

«I know,» you nod «just please not now? In a bit»

Jungkook sighs, but he nods. He keeps the ice on your ankle, eyes on your face to check if he’s hurting you in any way to the point you feel your ears burn.

«Come here?» you ask, patting beside you. He raises his eyebrows, looking at your hand on the mattress.

«Please?» you ask sweetly.

«The ice» he says. You shake your head.

«Just for a little, please» you gulp your beating heart down. You want him close, closer and closer. You don’t know why, but you want him so close it’s getting hard to breathe.

Jungkook can’t say no to you, not when you’re in your most fragile state, telling him to lay beside you. He puts the ice on the nightstand, next to the empty glass.

When he lays on his side, his eyes instantly fall on your face, a bit of worry still painting his features.

Your hands move on their own, reaching his and bringing them around you.

The atmosphere is dreamy like, a pinkish feeling invading Jungkook’s chest as he stares at you, his arms squeezing you and your eyes getting lost in his. It’s odd, how you can feel you heart pulsate, the sound echoes in your ears until they become numb. His hold seems to calm your racing mind a bit and you find yourself craving for something you can’t really touch, get a grasp of.

«Jungkook» you call.

«Mmh?»

«I want you»

Jungkook feels like a leaf about to fall. Swept away by the wind, scared to fall but what if the fall is so sweet, so gentle? What if he can’t say no? He wants you just as bad as he wants you to want him. He wants you sweetly, he wants you lovingly. He wants you. Every part, every shiver, every fear and every night. Every fucking night. If he can’t have that, he’ll have to settle for this at least. He can’t say no to your love. And now that he realises, he thinks, this is the last time. The first time loving you and the last.

«Fuck, come» he holds you tighter.

«Come into my arms» as if you weren’t already. He stays like that, seconds passing by and his breath getting rougher, he tries to slow down his heartbeat but it’s to no use, you probably can feel it even through your bathrobe and his clothes. He wonders what are you thinking, if you want him as bad as he wants you at least sexually. It makes him breathless, how much he wishes you were his.

«I need-» he gulps «I need you close»

His body moves on top of yours, his legs in the middle of your thighs, eyes glancing at your ankle to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with his movements. It kills you, how he takes his shirt off and the light of your room kisses every single inch of his abdomen. His beautiful skin, the muscles flexing as he removes the cloth, his brownish nipples hard at the cold hair. You want to lick it, every part of him. You want to touch it, chase every ripple with your fingertips.

«Can I take this off?» he asks.

When you meet his gaze his eyes are made of something you’ve never seen. It’s not want or need, you’ve seen those already the other times you had sex, it’s just something else that you can’t quite grasp; you don’t focus on it too much, nodding your head and reaching you hands for the knot of the bathrobe.

«Wait, let me» his fingers graze yours. You stop your ministrations, watching as he unties the knot, slow. There’s something. There’s definitely something. When he took your clothes off the last time, there was eagerness in his motions. There was need.

He was scared, of course he was. You guess that now he’s just glad you’re okay and trying to not hurt you in any way. You’re glad. Glad that he takes such good care of you, glad to have him as your friend.

«Thank you» you smile. Jungkook feels his heart clench. He wishes your relationship wouldn’t be like this, for you not to thank him with that smile so uninvolved, so clear.

He nods, hands getting by your sides to not put any weight on you.

«Keep your ankle up, please. Don’t wanna hurt you» he says. You nod, again.

His bicep flexes as he puts his weight only on his left arm, his fingers of the other caressing your clavicle. He sees the shivers on your skin as he travels lower, grabbing the edge of the bathrobe to reveal your chest. He wants to squeeze you, squeeze you so tight you don’t have any space left between you, hearts beating against each other.

Your skin glistens, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. He raises on his calves, opens your robe so that every part of you is revealed, takes off his pants and his socks. His cock is hard, so fucking hard he’s afraid he’ll come just by the sight of you, but he wants to hold back. He has to, cause he wants to do this right, in the right way. He wants to love you even if you don’t notice it, at least for once.

«Sit up for me, princess» his tone is like honey, and you do as he says without complaining. The pet name leaves a weird taste in your ears, you’re not used to it.

He helps you out of the bathrobe, finally having you naked on the bed. So pretty, so exposed just for him. Something inside him doesn’t set right, though.

«Hold tight onto me»

You’re in his arms, getting up from the bed and out of your bedroom. You wander what the hell is he doing until you get to his bedroom, confusion invading your features.

«Why?»

He lays you on his bed, getting a pillow again so that you can keep your ankle elevated.

He looks down at you from the end of the bad, cock twitching and eyes fixed into yours. He wonders if it was too much of a bold move, but he guesses you wouldn’t see anything behind it.

«Want you in my bed» he simply answers, transparent and straight to the point, his dark doe eyes drinking yours in.

You just nod a little astonished.

Of all the times you had sex, it was always in your bed. Never in his. Never your perfume stayed on his sheets, never he got to swim in the illusion of having at least a little more to keep to himself, just for him. A part of you to keep, to protect in a world that isn’t yours.

He takes his boxers off, and god you wish he could be faster cause you think your eagerness will make you lose your mind. You want him deep inside you, close as soon as possible.

«Open your legs for me?» he coos. He looks at you from the edge of the bed, still standing. Your eyes travel all the way from his face to his cock, it stands straight up to his belly button, the tip red and angry, veins displayed. If you’re not seeing wrong, there’s a bit of precum leaking out from his tip, but maybe it’s just the light playing with your eyesight.

You do as he says, opening your legs as much as you can for him to see, careful with your ankle. He bites down on his lips, his hand getting to the base of his cock and wrapping around it, just squeezing it.

«I love your pussy» he breathes out. The way he sounds makes you clench around nothing and when you see his hand stroke up and down his needy cock your mouth opens in awe.

«I’m obsessed, want it every day»

You squeeze your thighs together, how can he speak so filthy but sound so angelic?

«That can’t happen» you warn him.

Jungkook nods.

«I know» he answers. It kills him. It fucking kills him, to have a taste and then having to let go of it.

He gets to the bed, kneeling in front of you, his eyes on your face.

«I want you on my tongue»

Your yearning is making you crazy, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping by now.

«Please, Jungkook»

It sounds so good, to hear you say his name like that. In such a filthy way, totally unfiltered.

«Gonna give my baby what she needs»

His hands touch your thighs, he gropes your skin with his digits, so soft it makes him want to fucking lose himself and get lost just in the desire. His sentence makes you wetter, but your heart beats louder for some type of reason.

«Please» you plead again.

«I got you» he reassure you, he lays down on your body, face close to yours. His lips are close, so close you think he’s going to kiss you but he just lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

«I always got you» he whispers, his eyes looking into yours. His hand caresses your cheek, something that adds too much to this, to you, to the both of you. It leaves you wordless, shaking.

A second later, he’s back between your legs, his hands grabbing your thighs in the gentlest way he ever did.

«So beautiful» he murmurs to himself as he looks at your pussy juices leaking out. It’s so fucking inviting that he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth lands on your clit, so soft and pillowy, he kisses it. A strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and he lays another, and another. His tongue starts to glide between your lips, up and down he gathers your juices and then sucks onto your clit, your back arching on the bed.

«Oh, fuck» you moan. It makes him eager. Eager for more, eager for you, ciclo by fervent. He wants it all.

He sucks on your clit again, harder and for a time that seems endless, the pleasure that takes over you is tingling and consuming and your mouth opens again in a silent moan. He lets it go with a popping sound, he blows on it, kisses it again, sucks again as his tongue plays with it. Your hands reach his hair, they tug at the strands as you moan out loud. It’s so good, so good you’re not going to last long.

«So good» your hips shoot up, whines come out of your mouth.

He feels drunk, lost in the taste of you.

«Yeah?» he coos. His tongue rubs your clit deliciously, the pattern changing from up and down to side to side and circles, it makes you lose your mind.

«What if I do this? Take all of you in my mouth?»

It’s unreal, how good he can make you feel. He takes you all in his mouth, from your clit to your hole, sucking on every part he manages to get, then sucks on your lips. His hands move on your stomach, eyes on your face as he grabs your breasts in his palms. He squeezes them softly, fingers rubbing your nipples, filthy wet sounds filling the air. It’s embarrassing, the amount of wetness through your folds, how your juices keep leaking out at just a look at him. You don’t think you can hold back. Not when he’s sucking on your clit again, his fingers grazing your nipples as he moans on it in his mouth. He doesn’t think he can get any other pussy, after yours. It’s too good, it’s perfect. Just perfect.

«Gonna- Jungkook» you shiver.

«Tell me, talk to me, baby» he moans on your pussy, his tongue poking at your hole.

«Fuck, I think I’m going to- cum»

His tongue feels so good inside you, your walls tight around it and your juices wetting all of his chin. He wants your wetness everywhere, on his chest, on his thighs, on his fucking bed.

«Please, let me see» he begs.

«Cum for me»

One of his hands come down, his fingers rubbing your clit. You don’t have the time nor the voice to tell him that you’re going to, cause god, it feels so fucking good you don’t even know how to speak anymore. You just see him, his eyes staring at you from between your legs, nose brushing against your folds, his tongue deep inside you. Your legs shake, your breathing is rough.

«Cum for me, angel»

And you do. You cum so fucking hard, you don’t even realise what is happening, how your juices flow out and drip onto his sheets, how Jungkook presses down onto the mattress to get some sort of friction, how he gulps down your juices as if they were the tastiest thing he ever drank.

He kisses your clit, your lips, every part of your pussy he can get a taste of, your inner thighs.

«Fuck, I only want your pussy» he moans, the fingers that left your aching clit now wrapping around his thickness, your juices on his cock make his skin glossy. You’re such in a haze that yes, you nod.

«Fuck, yes» you sigh. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you, he simply can’t. You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you’re so vulnerable and exposed for him that you make him helpless, totally fragile.

«You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum» his voice makes you open your eyes, finding him still between your legs.

«Come here» you struggle to let your voice out.

«Want you close»

His heart shakes.

«Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you» he breathes out, laying on top of you. His voice is shaky and you feel his hands travel from your thighs to your stomach, then to your chest. They reach your shoulders, one of them cups your cheek, his eyes study every part of your face. He looks at the flush of your cheeks, how they turned to a reddish tone, your lips swollen from your teeth biting at them, your hair messy all over his pillows. In his bed, his at least for now.

«I want you, only want you» you whine.

«You have me» he wishes you could notice, that you’d realise, look at him and mean your words just how he means them. He just rubs his cock against your folds, though.

«Right here» he moans. Cock rock hard, so fucking ready for you.

«Please» you just keep pleading, you can’t hold back. You don’t even care if you just came and your pussy needs time to recover from the tremendous orgasm you just had, you just want him inside you.

His cockhead brushes against your clit, a strangled moan coming out from both of your throats, your eyes focusing on his just to see that’s they were already there. Jungkook smiles at you so softly as his cockhead finds your hole and pushes in that it feels too much. Too much affection, to much loving. Too lovingly. It makes your insides twist and turn, and you wonder what the fuck is going on, but you don’t have time to voice your feelings cause a second later his cock is deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.

You just shut your mouth, take everything he has to give. You want it all, you don’t care.

«Fucking perfect» he whines. His cock never felt so good, your walls squeeze him perfectly, your pussy so wet he can feel your juices already pour down to his balls.

«Wrap around me,» he moans faintly «please»

Your legs move on their own, the pain of your ankle shooting up to your leg. You grimace, eyes squeezed shut.

«Careful with your leg» the worry makes him still.

«Lay it on the pillow, up» he whispers, his hand reaching your calf to guide it back down.

«Like this» he kisses your temple. You sigh when you feel the softness of the pillow and your weight supported, the pain untying a bit.

«Does it hurt?» his words soothe you and you open your eyes to look at his face. You shake your head.

«It was just for the movement. It’s going away now» you answer. Jungkook nods, his fingers brush away a little strand of hair that’s keeping your beautiful face away from him.

«Like this it’s good, is it okay for you?» he asks. His hand holds your hip, your leg wrapped around him, the other on the cushion and Jungkook’s cock buried deep inside you still. You can feel it throb even when it’s still, you wonder how is it possible that he’s holding himself back so much.

«It’s perfect» you whisper. His eyes, smile first, as they always do. His smile comes right after, and you don’t know if it’s the atmosphere or your vulnerability for everything that happened but it makes your heart swell. You want him around you, you want him everywhere, all over you, inside of you.

He looks down at you, moves his pelvis back and then forward again, you wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your arms come around him, his passes under your back as the other stays on your hip, his cock rutting inside you makes you whimper. He kisses your neck, sucks on your skin, moans in your ears.

«Love it so much,» he shivers, eyes closing from the pleasure «getting to have you like this»

«Feels so good, Kook» you whine.

Jungkook fucks into you slow, but his motions are firm and he knows exactly where your buttons are. Apparently, it didn’t take much for him to learn, it seems like he knew them all along, from the first time.

«Yeah?» he coos, his digits dig into your skin.

«Yes» you moan out loud, only guiding him closer. His cock is perfect. You love it, could never imagine a better dick.

«Tell me, baby. Wanna hear you» he doesn’t stop, only squeezes you tighter. Your breasts against his hard chest, your nipples brushing against his skin, every curve of your body against his.

«Your cock is so perfect» you tell him. He wants to look down to where he’s inside of you but doesn’t want to miss a single thing, not even a crumb of the pleasure taking up your features.

«I love it so much, the best cock ever» your voice is muffled and your fist comes out from behind his neck to press against your lips as you speak.

«Please don’t» he whines, looking down at you.

«Wanna hear you, don’t hold back»

Your fist goes away. Your fingers dig into his skin again, surrendering to his request and letting your voice come out free.

Jungkook makes love to you. It’s so sweet and so slow but so good that you’re lost. Lost in him, lost in the feeling and the pleasure.

«Keep your leg up» he instructs, letting your hip out of his grasp. He kisses your nose, his hand travels between your legs, his middle finger on your clit.

«Oh, Jungkook, fuck» you wail, the pleasure adding up. He moves his finger in circles, up and down, from side to side, just like he did with his tongue before. It makes him jerk inside you, throb with every thrust, bite down on his lips as he looks at your face and feel your walls clench around him. Your mouth opens, eyes looking at him through your lashes, pillowy lips ready to be kissed.

«I want to make you feel so good,» he groans, «want you to think about this when you’re alone» he moans.

«I want you to give it to me, all to me. Mine» he whispers onto your lips, breath hot on your face.

«All mine»

«Fuck, yes»

Your walls are so tight, pulsating so hard.

His finger keeps rubbing your clit, he moans when he brings it a bit lower, feeling his cock pounding inside your pussy, your pussylips spread around him, your wetness gathering at the base of his cock. His balls slap on your ass, the sounds filthy and wet, so incredibly wet.

«I’m going to- yes, feels so good» you breathe hard, his finger back on your clit rubbing faster. Your legs shake and you feel his cock dripping precum in your cunt, all of his length pulsating.

«I want you to look at me when you cum,» he pleads, tone shaky «please look at me» he whines. If you weren’t on the edge already, you think you would probably be just by the way he sounds. He’s so sexy you think you won’t ever be able to get over this. You’re going to think about this for sure, hell if you’re going to.

«Kook, I- I…»

«Ssh, let go. Just let go and look at me» he coos sweetly. He’s holding back, he’s trying so fucking much to hold back that his cock is over sensitive and he doesn’t think he will last much longer. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, so fucking soft and warm around him, so wet, so beautiful.

«Give it to me, love» he doesn’t notice, not until he says it. It just slips out, naturally. You don’t say anything, head burying deeper in his pillow and your walls tightening around him.

You come all over his cock. Your juices make it harder for him to control his pace as you contract sp tightly all over him, his cock still moving inside of you, your arms wrapped around him. You’re trembling but you still find the strength to cup his cheeks, eyes looking at him for all the time just like he asked you to. You watch him as he moans, fucking into you with the same pace, his cock so hard. One of your hands travel down, between your bodies and down to his cock, his tight balls in your hand. You cup them, massage them a little. Jungkook’s features grimace, a loud whiny moan filling the air as your fingers on his cheek caress his skin.

«So beautiful. Cum for me, please» you plead. His heart beats so loud it’s going to explode, and a second later he’s shooting his cum right deep inside of you, hot, thick and long spurts of cum filling you up to the brim. His lips touch yours, as he keeps cuming. They brush against each other and a second later he’s succumbing to them, moaning into your mouth as his hips fuck his cum into your pussy, your leg still keeping him close and you fingers on his cheek.

The kiss is slow and not really controlled, his tongue touches yours and brushes it, your lips eager for each other but moving slowly. It kills him, the way you wrap your arm around him to bring him closer as if he wasn’t all shattered into pieces already.

You kiss for long, he still fucks himself into you slowly even after coming down from his high, your body still tight to him. When you part, you feel your chest on fire. His eyes look glossy, his lips red and wet, his baby hair sticking to his forehead. His movements stop, the last trace of a kiss on your clavicle right where it all started, and then he comes out of you. He lays beside you, eyes staring at your face. Silence fills the air, your breaths the only thing audible.

«Kook» you call.

«Yes?» he hums.

«I need another shower» you laugh.

The atmosphere is odd. It’s thick. You want to go out of your bedroom and ask him what is going on exactly but for some type of reason, you’re holding back. There’s just something in the air.

Last week has been weird.

You would come home when Jungkook was already there to find the dinner on the table, covered with a plate so it wouldn’t get cold, some days with a post it.

I already ate, I’m going to bed, I’m a little tired.

I’m going out, but I cooked you dinner. Rest well.

Work was hard today, I’m going to sleep.

Since the two years you’ve been living together, you’ve always made sure that the one coming home later had something to eat, without having to cook when you’re both too tired. You do it for him too, when he comes home late. That’s what you did on Thursday and Friday, but when he came home you weren’t expecting him to literally eat and go to bed after putting his dish in the sink.

The dinner was odd too, he made small talk, but there was something that didn’t feel right, as if it was a bit awkward. When you both stayed home on the weekend your friends filled the place on Saturday, and on Sunday, he just spent the day in his bedroom beside coming out to make lunch and dinner together.

You knocked on his door once or twice, asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or just chill together, but he said he was tired.

Something is off. Maybe he’s really tired, at dinner today he mentioned that work has been hard lately.

You start to wonder if you should be worried. If Jungkook is stressed and needs someone to talk too, if you’re being just a shitty friend and shouldn’t give him all this space, if you should grab him by the shoulders and tell him to talk to you about what is going on. He doesn’t seem to have closed up with your friends though, on five days he spent three evenings at their place this week. Maybe it’s just you seeing things.

You should talk to him, cause you’re worried, and you miss him. You miss your friend.

«Jimin’s on his way too» Eunji announces, grabbing a pile of glasses. She places one for each of you on the table, then takes a look around.

«I think everything’s set?»

You nod, Hana and Jin appearing by your side with the side dishes.

«Let’s put them on the table» Jin grabs six of them all together.

«Yah, don’t order us around. This is my house, not your restaurant» Yoongi slaps his hyung on the ass, his friend glaring at him. Hyunjoo shakes his head at the scene in front of her, her belly has just started to grow, three months into pregnancy. She looks so beautiful and happy that your heart throbs in happiness.

«Where are Namjoon and Jungkook?» she asks.

«Namjoon will be here in ten» Hoseok answers.

«I’ll call Jungkook» you announce.

You’re about to go to get your purse, but the door rings, so you wander towards it. Jungkook stands behind it, soft hair reaching almost his shoulders, his bangs framing his pretty face. His eyes stare directly into yours, eyebrows cocked.

«Oh, you’re here?» he asks, as if he wasn’t expecting it. He stays still on the doorway, hands by his sides.

«Yes?» you smile as best as you can, not really knowing what to do.

«Everyone is here» you remind him. Jungkook nods eagerly.

«I know» he nods again. You move to the side to let him in.

«I was about to call you» you say. He takes his coat off, hanging it with the others.

«I was stuck in traffic,» he shrugs «I thought it was the same for you, since you worked late too today»

«Oh, no. I left earlier» he nods. And then, it’s silent again. You just stare at each other.

He doesn’t know. How to do this properly, how to go back to who he was, the friend you had before he realised it was too much to hold back. Every time he looks at you, it’s too much. He feels like you’re taking all the oxygen, leaving him with the smallest amount and not able to breathe properly. He tried. He really tried. He told himself that yes, it can be fixed. He repeats it to himself everyday, but something just makes him stop. He’s too… he guesses he just needs space. To get over you, to learn how to look at you differently, just like before he knew, when he was younger. Maybe he won’t ever be able to go back at that point, but at least to when it was bearable to look at you from afar and just have a small part of you?

«Jungkookah!» Teahyung yells from the kitchen. Yoongi peeks out from the living room, he smiles brightly at his youngest friend, his arm wrapping around his shoulders.

«Leave him alone, he just got here» he yells back at Taehyung. In a bunch of minutes, everyone is gathered in the living room, sitting on the carpet and ready to have dinner. It’s been a while since you all gathered to have dinner together, and the atmosphere is light. Everyone is laughing at something, new jokes being made and happiness shared. It makes you appreciate what you have, how every single person in this room means something to you, something beautiful. You’re lucky, very so.

But as you go on, you can’t help but go back to your old habits. Searching for Jungkook’s smile in the midst of the laughters, look for his eyes when you start to talk about something that happened to you during the day. You find him nodding at someone, eyes going back to his dish when you speak. And you can’t help but feel in the wrong. He’s mad at you, maybe you did something to make him upset, something that apparently is very much important to him. This has to be the reason why.

You realise how much you value him. His thoughts, his words, the way he makes you feel like there’s someone you can lean on, someone who’s got you. You realise how easy it is to enjoy his company, to feel happy thanks to him, to feel loved. And how cold it is without him, lost.

You’ve always been inseparable, since you were sixteen and he was nineteen. Your pieces fixed together so perfectly that you didn’t have to worry about fighting with each other, cause you both knew that nothing was going to change between you. You went through so many things together that you can’t even remember all of them clearly now. He’s your safe place. And even though you know that this is perfectly fixable and actually nothing too dramatic, you just feel lost without his complicity.

«Y/n?» Hyunjoo shakes his hand in front of your face, her striking smile brings you out of your thoughts. You nod.

«Oh, yes I’m listening»

«You don’t know what you’re doing» Namjoon’s hand falls on Jungkook’s thigh, lightly slapping it. He shrinks on his side of the sofa, eyes shutting down.

«I know» he whines.

«That’s at least something» the hyung scoffs.

«Did you talk?»

«No» he lets out. If it wasn’t already clear enough, Jungkook is in very much need of advices.

«We just…»

«What?»

«We don’t speak-» he stops to gulp «like we used to»

Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing.

«What? Why?»

«Cause we simply don’t, it’s complicated»

«It really isn’t» he fights back, slapping his hand on his thigh for a second time.

«Why?»

Jungkook sighs.

«I just… I think I need time to- get over her or whatever this is, I-»

«You have to talk to her, Jungkook,» he shakes his head, unbelievable «if you don’t, she’ll think there’s something wrong. You have to be clear and-»

«I can’t» he bites down on his lips, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Sleep is getting to him and the fact that tonight he didn’t sleep well makes it even worse.

«I can’t tell her»

«It’s worse if you don’t! Your friendship is not going to be fixed magically»

«That’s the reason why I need time» he blubbers.

«And the reason why she’s looking so gloomy» Namjoon’s response dejects him even more.

«I know I’m being a dick,» he stares down at his feet in the slippers «but I can’t lose her»

Silence is the answer that accompanies him. The cheers coming from inside the room sound muffled, the light of the moon softly grazing his skin. Just the thought of you not by his side sends a shiver of fear through his spine. He doesn’t want to get to know what it is like to be without you, he can’t.

«Don’t you think that maybe a part of her… at least a small one-»

«No,» his voice is faint «not a small one, not even a bit»

It stings. So fucking much, it burns.

Namjoon sees it clearly, the pain written all over his features. To be truthful, he’s always noticed it, even when Jungkook didn’t know. He saw the way he looked at you, his smile when someone mentioned you, the way he would talk about you or what happened to you the day before, the way you made him laugh while doing the dishes, how he was ready to put you first, even before him. It actually makes it hard for him to understand, how it took all this time for Jungkook to realise.

«Even when you were- like intimate?»

Jungkook’s eyes shoot right to his hyung’s face. He always tries not to think about that, for as much as he can. Even though, some nights your hands on his skin haunt him, your moans in his ears, your taste on his lips.

«I don’t think so»

«Did you kiss? Like, or I don’t know, was like- two friends having sex or- what was it like?»

Jungkook wishes he didn’t ask. Cause bringing the thought of you looking so vulnerable and ready for him in his arms sends back feelings he tried so hard to hold back in the last two weeks.

«It was…» he takes a deep breath, letting the air out from his mouth.

«Consuming» his breath gets stuck in his throat.

«We were just…» he shakes his head «it wouldn’t be the same for her. I loved it in a different way»

«Maybe,» Namjoon pats his shoulder gently «but how was she? Like, was she like the

Y/n you always hang out with? Like- you know, how awkward it can be when two friends fuck, come on» he chuckles lightly, not really wanting to be explicit about the two of his best friends.

«She was sweet. Like, so sweet. The last time, she…» he closes his eyes, munching on his lips. The scene playing in his mind leaves him in agony, it’s pure torture to remember you in such a crude state, all for him.

«She was in pain. When she called and we were at Taehyung’s place-»

«That night?» Namjoon’s eyes shoot wide open, mouth hanging as the youngest nods.

«She was in pain, she hurt her ankle. But the way she looked at me, kept me close… the way she opened up to me just- it kills me to remember her in that way» he sniffs. His eyes are glossy. He wishes there would be a better way, an answer written somewhere, a safe recipe to follow.

His friend understands that he can’t ask more. Jungkook is in pain. And he wishes he could do something about it, even though he knows he can’t. So he just hugs him, his hand patting the youngest head to comfort him at least a bit.

«Jungkook!» you yell from your living room. You’re tired. It’s becoming too much, and you need to talk, right now.

You don’t hear any answer, so you stride to his room. The knock on his door makes him grimace, eyes staring directly at it.

«Come out,» you stare at the white wood, arms crossed in front of you «please» you add, voice softening.

He lets go of his clothes, laying the folded pieces on the bed more carefully than the others.

«I cooked you dinner, I left a post it» the door opens, revealing him in all his height, hair still a bit wet from the shower. The black hoodie he’s wearing makes him look smaller and it involuntarily warms your heart a bit.

«You said you were going to sleep» you murmur.

«I am» he says.

«You’re not,» you shake your head «you’re mad at me. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me, it’s killing me»

Jungkook stares at you blankly. His eyes scan your features for what seems to be an hour. He shakes his head slowly, guilt takes over him, the displeasure clear on his face. He softens, a step towards you and all of his defences fall down.

«I’m not mad at you» he’s sweet, voice covered in honey.

«You aren’t?» your arms fall at your sides.

«You’re mad. There’s something off, you’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks»

«I-» he cuts himself off, closes his eyes for a second.

«I wasn’t… I…»

«Please, just talk to me» you plead. You can’t stand this atmosphere, not with him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, it’s all he can do.

«I’m sorry. It’s just that work has been rough and I’m all over the place, just- I’m sorry»

The knot in his throat is getting thicker, but he can’t say more. He knows he’s been a dick, a total idiot.

«You say that but I…» you shake your head on his shoulder, your arms move around him and you feel him sniff.

«I promise there’s nothing wrong» he whispers, he moves his hand up and down on your back to soothe you, the other keeps you close.

«I’m sorry»

«Talk to me»

His hair tickle your skin, the itch makes you rub your face on his shoulder to tone it down and his hand fists the cloth of your shirt.

«If you feel like you need to vent or just… anything» your back shakes, and he knows you’re about to cry. Tears don’t fall though, you try as best as you can to not make your sensibility take over you even though your eyes are burning.

«Ssh, don’t cry, please» he sounds pleading, voice faint and shaky. It’s killing him for real, to not open up to the person he loves the most, you’re his best friend, his person. And he just wishes so much his feelings never showed up, that he didn’t look at you so differently from the way you look at him.

«I will. I will, I promise» he blows.

The atmosphere in your house feels light. It’s back to normal, with Jungkook walking around the place on a Thursday night, his voice echos in the kitchen as he wipes the floor, one of the songs he’s been listening to lately getting sung over and over again.

«Jungkook, you need to see this» you call from the sofa. His eyes travel to where you are, the light of the kitchen shines stars in his irises and the beanie he’s wearing makes him look so cute. He leaves the broom carefully balanced on the side of the counter, his feet tiptoeing towards your spot. He squats down, eyes squinting at your phone.

«Woah!» his excitement makes you giggle as his hands zooms in the picture.

«It’s our niece? I need to call Yoongi hyung! Did he send it to you?»

You nod, a big smile on your face.

«Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?»

Jungkook shakes his head.

«I can feel it» he beams.

«Where is my phone?»

«I think you left it on the sink» you answer. He nods eagerly, getting back up. The way he hops all the way to the sink makes your turn and laugh, he’s so dorky you want to slap his cute little ass.

«Fuck, I stepped on the dirt!» he whines, stopping right away. You laugh even harder, hands grabbing your stomach as he huffs and gets his phone. He comes back to the couch, falling on it with a thud and raising his feet on his knee.

«Don’t do it here!» you scold, still laughing. He simply giggles, wagging his toes at you.

«Clean it for me?» he laughs. You want to puke.

«Ew! What’s wrong with you?» he laughs so hard you start laughing again too, looking at him as he just simply wipes it on the carpet. You roll your eyes, pinning a mental note to vacuum it later.

«Aigoo, I never walk without slippers and now this happens» he complains, shaking his head.

He quickly finds his hyung’s contact and puts the call on speaker.

«Jungkookah» Yoongi’s voice fills the room, the younger smiles brightly at the screen.

«My hyung is going to be a dad! Yah! Bring us out for dinner» you slap his thigh, glaring at him. Yoongi laughs, totally expecting his request.

«I will. You saw the ultrasound?»

«Of course I did,» he nods «I feel like it will be a girl. Am I right?»

«We don’t know yet. It’s too soon, but I don’t think so. Hyunjoo says it’s a boy»

«Really?» he narrows his eyes.

«How was it?» you ask, the excitement is uncontainable. You’re so happy for your friends, can’t wait to meet the little one.

«I cried,» he laughs, «I thought I would hold it in but I cried. Fuck, I’m so happy Y/n»

«I know,» you chuckle «how are the cravings?»

«Ugh, getting worse» he whines.

«I came home and she was eating pickled cucumbers,» he moans out of disgust «made me go back to the supermarket cause she needed mustard. Couldn’t she just send me a text before» he shakes his head even though you can’t see him.

Jungkook chuckles, his body getting limp on the cushions.

«That’s what you get for making me clean the ten servings of noodles you spilled the other day»

«Yah! I had to set the table!»

«You were the one who spilled all!» he fights back.

Jungkook is really trying. And it’s going fine, it’s not hard to enjoy his days with you, it is never been. You just have chemistry together, you laugh almost all the time and never find it boring to be together. It’s just.

It’s just the way his eyes linger on your rosy cheeks too much, he has to remind himself to look away, back to the movie playing on your tv. Or last night, when you were dancing to your favourite girl group’s new song, the way your lips curved into a beautiful smile, hair flying in the air and he had to hold back his smile, too big.

If he looks back to all these years, it makes him laugh, how fucking long it took him to realise how much you had of him. You spent entire days together and he would still do the same as he does now, stare at you mindlessly just for the sake of admiring you, then getting back to what was happening around him. It’s always been here, this feeling. It just took him so much to come to surface and even when it did he tried so hard to make it go away, push it down inside him until it became too much too bear and it hit as fucking hard as what you mean to him. All he repeats to himself is that he just has to do what he’s been doing all along, right? He lived with this for years, a day more won’t hurt him.

«What are we doing tomorrow?»

He eats the last bite of pizza, cleaning his hands with the tissue.

«Yoongi’s taking us out for dinner» you answer, getting up to clean around. You grab the boxes and the glasses, the coke under your arm.

«We have to go grocery shopping» he adds. He sees you nod, you put the boxes on the counter and the glasses in the sink, make sure the coke is well closed and then put it in the fridge. It’s almost empty, the redness of the gochuchang box parked on the first shelf stands out too much with nothing beside it.

«Yes» you nod.

«Are we going early? We can have breakfast out»

He gets up from his spot, waddling to you. A big smile is all you need to understand his answer. Breakfasts out are the best.

Breaksfast out means getting up on time. Something you both struggle with, since you spent yesterday night awake until late. Jungkook has the tendency of staying in bed until he’s at least a bit awake, staring blankly at something as he sits up, eyes puffy and hair messy. You just storm out of the bed knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall asleep again in a matter of seconds.

You knock on his door, no answer in sight.

«Jungkook!» you call again. You hear the shuffles of the covers, his cute mumbling words that haven’t been invented yet.

«Get ready, let’s go have breakfast» you say. You hear him moan as he stretches, take it as your chance to go back to your room and shower.

It takes you both twenty minutes to kind of be ready for your day, your eyes both puffy and a bit red. You decide to go to your favorite cafe and when you arrive a wave of excitement washes over you. It’s been so long since you had a nice and relaxed breakfast outside, the feeling of being free the whole day and not having to worry too much. Jungkook watches you smile as you order and play with your phone as you both wait for your food, his pinkish lips curling up into a beam. It feels good to see you like this; relaxed, happy. It reminds him of when you were younger, with less burden on your shoulders.

When you go grocery shopping together it usually ends up with him pushing the cart and you filling it up, he points at a snack from time to time and you end up adding it to the rest. You come home for lunch, watch a movie right after until your eyes start to fall shut, so you decide it’s time to take a nap. Jungkook stays on the couch, wanting to see how it ends. You fall asleep well, sleep for two hours straight until your alarm rings. Silence fills the house when you wake up and you guess your friend is probably napping too, so you tiptoe out of your bedroom to get a snack, until you hear him.

He’s working out judging from his grunts coming from the bedroom in front of you. You’re used to it, Jungkook likes to stay active and just fills his time like this from time to time when he has time.

Just, this time your mind wanders. You hear his sounds, picture him sweaty and with his muscles flexing, his eyes focused and his jaw clenched, his breath rough… until you’re wet, pulsating. You hold your breath, close your eyes. And you go back to your room, shut the door.

Scenes of him eating you out play right in front of your eyes, his moans. You end up on the bed, your trousers off and your panties pushed on the side of your lips. There were times when the thought of him in this way turned you on after you stared fucking but you always pushed them away, telling yourself that it’s not right. Just, this time they hit you harder. It’s been a while since you had sex and the way he sounded just makes you want to open his door and… you shouldn’t do that. Just focus on you, you think.

Your fingers graze your clit, go lower to get your wetness on your fingers then go back to their initial place. You see him between your legs, his fingers inside you and his dark doe eyes staring directly at you. You hear him whisper, telling you how good you take his cock, how your pussy wraps so good around it, how good you make him feel.

The image of his cock fills your mind, leaving you with the need to suck it and hallow your cheeks around it, his grunts filling up your ears, the sweetest sound ever. You feel his fingers, delicate and warm, they touch you and caress you, his kisses on your lips.

You see him on top of you, telling you to be careful with your ankle, eyes worried and arms wrapped around you. You feel loved, for a second. A kind of love that doesn’t belong to a friend. You feel admired, beautiful. The way he looks at you with pure affection makes you hiss, his words in your ear and your bodies tight.

Feels so good, getting to have you like this.

See him pounding into you at the slowest pace, his fingers gracing your clavicle, his hair on your shoulder. The way he checks in with you to make sure that you’re enjoying this as much as him, begging you not hold back your moans.

Gonna give my baby what she needs.

You shiver, legs shaking.

His fingers on your clit, his cock brushing against your walls with each thrust, his whines. The way he called you.

Ssh, let go, his voice faint as the pleasure takes over him, his balls tight, give it to me, love. You cum, silent and incredibly hard your orgasm hits you like a wave during a thunderstorm, impossible to hold back and too good to decline.

You lay on the bed, breath stuttered and eyes shut. Your heart beats too loud.

The first time you had sex it just happened. You don’t know what exactly went through your mind, the reason why you had to start it all; your body moved on its own. Jungkook was tired, arrived late at home and was sleepy. You cooked him dinner, kept him company while he ate even though you had dinner already. You listened to him whine about his day, the tiredness evident in his voice. A few minutes later you were on the way to your bed, already too intertwined with each other and with the new feeling bubbling up between you to stop whatever the hell was happening.

The second time, it was pretty much just the same, you didn’t go to each other with the intent of fucking, but you ended up just like that, with his cock in your mouth and his eyes on your face.

The third time, it was because you ended up talking about what was happening and how you should behave, how you should keep your friendship away from your rendezvous. It stared just like that, but again, you didn’t really behave that much.

And then, the last time.

You never once went to each other with the intention of fucking. You wonder when is it going to happen again, in what way, the reason that could start it all. Would it be so bad if you just grabbed him and started it? Does that make your relationship different ? It would, you guess. But is it any different not looking for it but don’t say no when it happens? You don’t even know why you’re thinking about such questions, when you should be focusing on work. Today was stressful, you had a ten minutes lunch break because you had to go back to the papers on your table. You’re tired and your period is on the way which is probably the main reason why you’ve been feeling horny for the last four days. You should just leave it as it is or take care of it on your own, not really into casual sex with strangers or clubs. You wish you were more like Hana sometimes, enterprising and more likely to be ready to have some fun before she used to date Jin.

Your phone rings, displaying Jungkook’s name.

«Hey» you answer.

«I’m bored» he whines from the other side. You picture him with his head falling back and his eyes shut, pouty lips.

«What should I do?» he stretches the last word out, childish tone.

«Cook me dinner please?» you try.

«Already did,» he huffs «when are you coming home?»

«I have so much work to do, I don’t know»

He whines again, leaned on his stomach his cheek is squashed against the cushion of your couch, arms by his sides and his legs kicking the air.

His voice comes out muffled: «Please, I’m so bored» he complains.

«Jungkook, I’m working» you sigh.

«Can I come?» he stares at the screen pleadingly, his ankles crossing as he flexes his toes. He eagerly takes the phone in his hands, eyes stuck on your name. He had a long day today, and even though he wishes he could go to bed already even though it’s only 8 pm, he’s not feeling sleepy nor tired, quite the opposite actually. Being alone in the living room is boring him too much, and he doesn’t feel like going to to someone else’s place, giving the usual noisy meeting they usually have. He just wants to relax, but not on his own.

«Kook-»

«I’ll let you work, I promise» he begs, «I just want company»

If he could be an emoji, he’d probably be the one with the moist pleading eyes. You know it, the expression he makes when he craves for something, and that’s exactly your weak point.

A deep sigh makes his way out of your mouth, he can hear it from the phone. Silent follows right after.

«Okay, bring me food though please? I’m starving»

«Yes!» he punches the air with a fist.

«I’ll be there in ten, I think. Just text me what you want to eat»

«The dinner you already made?» you ask. Jungkook licks his lips, this time the silence fills his part of the call.

«Okay, then be there in twenty I guess» he huffs.

You shake your head, what a moron.

You realise in this period you’re really all over the place. And you also ponder, how long is it been since you had sex with someone? Not Jungkook, someone else. Jungkook is your friend, you shouldn’t think about him when you’re touching yourself to get some stress out or just when you’re craving for sex. It’s not right, it’s not the place of a friend. It’s making you stressed, to think about sex and link it to his face in your mind. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you think. You also thought about telling him that it can’t happen again, but it seems like it’s not going to happen anyway. You’re glad.

So for once, tonight you let Eunji and Hana take you to a club, with just the intention of trying to take your mind off of it. Your methods didn’t work until now, so maybe theirs will. Your friends know you too well though.

«There’s something wrong, I smell your frustration from here» Eunji inhales dramatically, a grimace forms on her face right after.

«Ew, it smells bad. Like onion and soju mixed together» she likes her tongue out disgusted. You laugh, Hana shakes her head.

«That’s the guy behind you» she points at the man dancing his ass out on his own, totally drunk.

«For real though, what’s wrong?»

Both of their eyes linger on you. You sigh.

«Just feeling a bit overwhelmed» you shrug. Your friendship it’s deep, meaningful, full of memories, you know you could tell everything to them and they would understand. You could even tell them about the rendezvous you had with Jungkook, but that would put you and him in a not so comfortable position with your friends, the last thing you want is for them to think that you have sex with each other consistently.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» you announce. Eunji coughs on her drink, Hana’s eyes shoot right open. They stare at you as if you have two heads, still on the dance floor.

«Oh, come on! It’s not that shocking. I-»

«We need to sit» Hana takes you by the hand, Eunji following right after. The couches are not really big, but you fit into one without any problems. The people are less here, the smell of alcohol and sweat too, thankfully.

Their attention goes back to you; «Is he someone we know?»

«Why would you? No,» you shrug «you don’t know him»

«Is he good?» Eunji sips from her drink. That’s a weird question, not the one you would firstly expect from her.

«What? Why?»

«You seem stressed and you said it yourself that you’re overwhelmed, so it’s either one of the two: he’s so fucking good that you can’t stop thinking about it or he totally sucks» straight to the point. Hana caresses your shoulder, glaring at Eunji for her ways even though you know that deep inside her she wants to laugh.

«No! He’s- I mean, he’s… good. It’s something else that bothers me»

«What?» Hana coos.

«He’s my friend, and it just happened. Different times» you explain.

«So you’re fuck buddies now?» Eunji raises her eyebrows.

«No! It just happened, we don’t do it often. I just… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not like we see each other in that way. We have a good friendship, like- we value each other. Every time it happened, it’s not like we were expecting it or-»

«That’s worse, I guess» she shakes her head. You’re about to say something, but her words leave you wordless.

«What, why?»

«Listen, I don’t think you can be friend and still sleep with him. If you had sex, that means you’re attracted to each other. Even if it’s not in a romantic way, it just… If it just happened, girl, there was sexual tension between you. I guess» she adds the end just because your expression is giving her shivers. The look on your friends’ faces screams panic.

«It would be better if you had a clear answer on what you are. Like… mmh, you know I’m bad at explaining things!» she whines, «Hana, please help»

Your friend sighs.

«Y/n, is this thing still happening? Like, are you still sleeping together?»

You shrug.

«It’s been a while,» you let out «actually, that’s the problem»

«You want to-»

«No, I don’t» you cut her off.

«I realised that it’s getting too much. Like, I think of him too much in a sexual way it’s making me feel uncomfortable»

«That’s what I meant» Eunji nods.

«I’ve been there. Remember Hyun?» she chuckles.

Of course you remember him. The guy was not really close to her, but it was the start of a friendship still. They used to have sex everywhere, their friendship ended up with them fucking each others brains out, after two months, they couldn’t bare it anymore. The atmosphere was heavy, too much sexual tension without even really having a conversation. The fact that Jimin started to find interest in Eunji made her end it even faster.

«We’re not like that though. We have a good friendship, we trust each other and-»

«And you have sex. Not regularly, it happens without any expectations. So it means that you don’t see each other as fuckbuddies, but there’s sexual tension. That’s the base for a relationship. If you put sex into the mix, you end up with butterflies in your stomach. I’m just saying that if you value him that much you should be careful. Understand what you want» her voice softens at the end, but you’re too upset by her words to notice. Eunji hates to be the one saying this, but she has to try at least. You need to know what you’re doing, set some boundaries wether you decide to do something or the other.

«Y/n, you know that we love you. Eunji’s just trying to-»

«I know» you nod, a knot in your throat.

«I just… I need to go home, need to clear my mind and sleep over it» you sigh, monotone. Your hand grabs the pochette laying by your side, eyes scamming the club that suddenly seems to little. You shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. You know that you don’t feel feelings towards him, but thinking about him in such ways… it makes you feel guilty, like your friendship could lose its meaning, like it’s stained. Like it could get out of control. It’s too much to think about him when you’re alone deep at night, like the last one, his face invading your mind when your fingers are deep inside you, even though you’re trying not to picture him.

«Now?» Hana asks, the worry in her eyes is clear. A glance towards Eunji and they’re both nodding, communicating with each other without having to speak. They know you too well, they could see the panic in your eyes even with theirs closed.

The way back home it’s short, the music playing in Eunji’s car does nothing to ease your mind even though it’s your favorite girl group, your friends glance at you from time to time from the rear view mirror. When you get off and say goodbye, they wait for you to shut the door behind you to look at each other, eyes wide open and jaw hanging.

«Jungkook» the name is crystal clear, both of them letting it out with a shocked expression.

«It’s fucking Jungkook» Hana nods.

Jungkook didn’t think that coming back home early meant this.

You said you had company, texted him twenty minutes before he got off work, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of company. He was expecting Eunji and Hana, maybe Taehyung or some of your friends, a coworker maybe. Definitely not you getting fucked in your bedroom by someone he can’t identify.

This is torture, it’s all he can think. When he arrived nothing seemed weird or odd, expect for the fact that he found the living room empty. As he started getting closer to his bedroom, he realised. And fuck, the slap he got on his face, the punches that hit him on the stomach and on his chest left him breathless, his injuries in pain and itching, his eyes shutting.

This is torture, it really is.

He moves from the hallway, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wet his face with cold water.

He can’t stay here, not in such a moment. Not when he can hear you like this, with someone else. It hurts. Fuck, it fucking hurts, it stings, it tears him wide open all the way from the inside to the last layer of his skin. His eyes burn, lips twitch. And suddenly, he’s sobbing. Sobbing in his bathroom, his reflection pitiful and broken. His breath is rough, cheeks stained from the tears, vision foggy. A whimper comes out of his mouth and he bites on his lower lip, repeating to himself that it’s okay. But it’s really not.

Jungkook’s eyes are swollen, puffy. You think it’s because he’s still half asleep, but when you meet his eyes you’re taken aback. He looks tired, as if he didn’t sleep well, but they’re a bit red. He cried? You didn’t hear him coming in yesterday night, you knew he worked late and left him dinner ready, but when you woke up today his food was just where you left it, the table still set.

«Kook?» you coo from the counter. He hums in return, head hanging low on his shoulders and eyes staring down at his legs, he sits on the couch with the tv playing in front of him.

You turn around, wash your hands quickly and dry them with a paper towel. You tiptoe to the sofa, glance at him from the side. Your senses are tingling, there’s something wrong.

«Kook, look at me?» you ask sweetly. He stays still, fingers fidgeting on his lap. He thought you were still sleeping, his room felt too tight to stay in it any longer. He wishes you had different opinions on open spaces, when you were looking for a house. Maybe you wouldn’t have seen him with a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen, and he would be tiptoeing back to his bed already.

«Please?» you try.

It’s to no use. All you can do is gulp, worried for what’s going on.

«Is something wrong?» you ask.

«Did something happen?»

He doesn’t answer. He knows if he opens his mouth now he will start crying again. Maybe you should just sit beside him and wait for him to open up. You turn around the table, take a sit next to him and pat him on his shoulder.

«Koo» you call again. He doesn’t even look at you. Your hand stays there, trying to give him some comfort but it only makes him want to break in a loud cry.

«Please» you whisper.

Yesterday, he thought about going over to Namjoon’s place or just anyone else’s, but he didn’t want to show how miserable he was. Thankfully, that guy was out ten minutes later. What a fucking joke, if he found just a bit more traffic coming home he wouldn’t be feeling like shit now.

Your hand leaves him, you get up and for a second his lips tremble, his walls falling down as he thinks you’re giving him some space. But then, you kneel down. In front of him, right between his legs with your fucking beautiful eyes staring at him. Your expression changes; the worry gets more urgent, pressing.

«What happened?» you’re breathless. You’ve never seen him like this, it scares the shit out of you and he can see it perfectly. You reach your arms around him, his breath cuts off.

«Don’t» he whines, voice faint, pleading. You don’t understand what is happening, your head is spinning. You put your arms back down.

«Talk to me» you whisper. He has tears in his eyes, his lips are red as if he’s been biting them all night long. He turns to the side, his eyes burn when he stares at the wall without blinking. His lips tremble.

«Koo, please. I’ve got you»

The dim breaks. His chest shakes, expression contorting as the first tears start coming out. He sobs faintly, shakes his head to himself and looks down to the ground. It’s physically painful, to see him hurting this much; you wish you could take it all away from him and make it yours, if only that was possible you’d do it even if it hurt ten times more. It couldn’t hurt more than this, though.

Your hands wrap around him, holding him so tight to you that you feel his sobs vibrate against you.

«I’ve got you» you soothe him, caressing his hair. With your warmth around him and your caresses, everything falls down into pieces. Every part of him breaks harder, the tear gets wider and deeper, your words of reassurance fill the wounds up but don’t sew them, they just make them heavier to the point that they pierce him and make him empty. Your hold suffocates him and your warmth is painful, your caresses bluffer him.

«I- I c- Please I-» he shakes in your hold, not able to speak. Your eyes burn, seeing him like this it’s atrocious.

«Breathe» you beg, holding him tighter.

«Please breathe for me Jungkook, breathe»

He hears how your voice is shaking, sniffles as he tries to breathe properly, sobs bubble up from his chest when he inhales. Your cheek brushes against his neck, you leave a kiss out of comfort and his hands instinctively fist your shirt. He tells himself to slow down, think properly and hold back but with your loving arms around him it’s a nightmare.

«Ssh, it’s okay. I promise» you whisper. Time slows down, you just focus on his breathing. One thing at a time, you tell yourself. You, need to calm him down first, you need to see him breathing properly, at least a bit lucid. Stroking his back up and down you think about what you can do to make him relax. You’ll make him some tea as soon as he’s doing better, it will soothe him at least a little bit.

«I’m here for you»

Jungkook’s breath moderately calms down, his sobs still come from time to time, but you have all the time in the world. You don’t care about how long it’s going to take him to stop crying, you just know that you want to be here, need to. It’s desperate, the need you have to make him feel better, almost consuming.

«I’m- ngh- I’m sorry» he hiccups. He buries is face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks are still wet and his hair tickle you.

«So sorry- I’m really-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» you repeat. You keep stroking his hair, Jungkook seems to quite down the more you do it, his hold gets firmer too as if he’s trying to anchor himself.

«Did something bad happen?» you try.

He moves in your hold, making you squeeze him tighter until you realise that he’s looking for a way out, so you let go. He wishes it was this easy, that his feelings could let him free just as easy. With you between his legs, it gets hard to breathe again. The way your eyes linger on his face, scan every feature and every expression, even the way he bites the inside of his cheek.

«I… I’m sorry» he mumbles low. This time, his eyes look at you. Clear, transparent, vibrant fear lingers in them with so much weight that it takes away your braveness. Jungkook’s eyes stay in yours even while they fill up with tears again, they don’t budge. The knot in his throat gets back, your presence suddenly feels blissful and he wishes he could just linger in this feeling. The feeling of you being close even if it’s only like this, keep being satisfied with only having a part of you.

«It’s- too painful» he breathes.

«What is it?» you look at him from down, with your glassy eyes and he just-

«I- I… I love you» his voice trembles.

Silence fills the room.

His words make a dull sound in your head, your body stiffens, lips ajar. Jungkook is frightened, totally stuck in place. His heart beats so fucking loud that it will explode.

The shock it’s too big and it stops you from letting the three words sink in, all you can do is stare at him blankly as he holds his heart in front of you.

«I’m- I can’t,» he shakes his head «it’s too much. I just… it’s killing me»

«You…» you gulp «you don’t mean it that way, right?» your voice trembles.

«It’s just- we-» you shake your head, take in a deep breath.

«We shouldn’t have- it’s because we had sex. It has to be because of that cause you didn’t-» you stop talking.

Jungkook stays silent, his chest burns, the tears in his eyes get uncontainable, until he breaks again. His shoulders tremble and he sniffs but it’s so silent that it’s even more consuming. He looks at you with such eyes, such vulnerability and fear at the same time, as if he was a stray puppy and you his possible saviour or his next predator. It scares you. And you understand his answer, because you know him, because it can be seen from miles away.

It’s not because you slept together.

«I need-» it’s hard to breathe properly «I need air»

He’s confused, he mistook his emotions, most surely. It has to be that. How can- how can it be not? You’re his friend, his best friend. The one he likes to tease, the one that knows him almost as deep as he knows himself. The person he- this can’t be right. It simply can’t.

You can’t come back home. You really can’t, he needs space to think this through; you need it. You need peace, somewhere to relax, to just don’t think. If you go to Eunji’s place maybe- she will ask. Hana too, and what about Jin and Jimin? Maybe a hotel room is the best choice, in that way you won’t receive questions, no one will get curious.

Thank god you had your phone in your pocket when you went out and weren’t wearing home clothes. You book an hotel room not too far, call a cab since you left your car keys at home.

You can’t face him now.

You walked a lot today, wandered around without a destination and ended up sipping a bottle of strawberry mogu mogu on Han river. Your phone buzzed at lunch time, then again at four pm, another time just fifteen minutes ago, but you didn’t take it out of your pocket. It scares you, because you know that it’s him.

Your hotel room is a beautiful one, has a big double bed with fluffy pillows, big bathtub, snacks in the fridge, a beautiful view on the eighteenth floor. The big buildings and the city lights make you feel small, the look of the man at the reception desk too. He probably doesn’t care about the reason why you’re here instead of sleeping at home, but your mind does. Maybe then, you’re the one who makes yourself feel small. Still, you don’t want to care. You can’t go back home, not now. What would you do? What would you tell him, how would he look at you? You need time.

When you lay on your bed, your phone buzzes again. You breathe in as you open the messages.

From Jungkook🐰 12.37pm

I’m sorry. I cooked you lunch, I left the food in the oven so it will still be warm when you come back. I ate early to give you some space. I’m really sorry

From Jungkook🐰 4.13pm

Where are you? Please be safe. Your car is here, do you want me to come and pick you up? Or I can call a taxi. Just, please be safe

From Jungkook🐰 7.54pm

Y/n, I’m worried. It’s dark outside and I went out to look for you but I just don’t know where you are. I cooked you dinner, so if you come back it will be in the oven too. Just text me so I know that you’re safe at least, please

From Jungkook🐰 8.33pm

I’m really sorry, please come home. I’ll go to Taehyung’s place if you need to be alone. Where are you? It’s dark outside and I’m really worried

Guilt takes over you, makes his way through every single part of your body until there’s not a single piece of your skin that isn’t drenched with it. Your fingers move on the keyboard, eyebrows pinched together.

From Y/n🧸 8.36pm

I’m safe. I booked a hotel room for tonight, so don’t worry. I need a bit of space, so I don’t think I will be back tomorrow.

Jungkook’s fingers never typed an answer so fast.

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

I was so scared that something happened

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

Please eat dinner and don’t skip your meals

From Jungkook🐰 8.37pm

I won’t text you if you need space. Just, do you want me to bring you your car keys? You left them here

From Y/n🧸 8.39pm

No, it’s fine.

From Jungkook🐰 8.39pm

Okay

From Jungkook🐰 8.45pm

I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I just need to tell you this: I will always have my arms empty for you, whenever you need a safe space I will be here. As we’ve always done with each other. Please remember this. Sleep well

You wonder how is it possible, to be friends with someone for so long and don’t notice that there’s more. You wonder when it begun, how. Where did the friendship end and the love begin, the boundaries. Which one of his gestures where made out of friendship, which were made out of love. How did he realise. Why you.

For the three days after you left home, all you told yourself was that he was confused, that he mistook his feelings, that it can’t be true. After you spent yesterday night walking in the streets, took another walk on the Han river and even dared to eat dinner on the riverside, a good look at the waters took your mind back to his eyes. To the way he looked at you, his eyes clear, transparent and full of vulnerability and fear when he opened up to you. What if, he’s always been in love with you, it’s always been this way. What if he’s not misinterpreting his feelings, what if he really loves you.

It scared you even more than the day before.

You never saw him that way, your friendship has always been just friendship for you. Until- well, it’s still friendship. Eunji wouldn’t say so, but for you it is. So where does love start for you? With attraction most of all, you guess. With the want and the need to feel someone in more ways, physically, emotionally, sentimentally. With wanting to be whole. Love is… butterflies, feeling loved, giving love, taking care of each other. So where is the boundary? The boundary of friendship.

Because fuck, today you start to wonder, you think that Eunji is right.

What do friends do? Are you not allowed to feel all of that and still call it just friendship? What if, what if you are the one mistaking yourself? What if it’s something else, what if it’s not just friendship anymore. When did it start, when does it end. You’ve always craved this things with Jungkook. Always craved for physical touch, maybe not in a sexual way before, but what if you just didn’t ponder on it too much because you’ve always restrained yourself into thinking that you were just friends. You’ve felt the need to share, to the point that you got a home with him. You’ve always wanted him emotionally, always were ready for him in whatever occasion, always felt close to him. You’ve always felt loved, you’ve always gave love back. You always took care of each other with all yourselves.

Would you do all of that for any of your friends, for Taehyung, or Namjoon maybe?

You’re not too sure. You don’t think so.

Is it the same with them? Of course not. You would do anything for them, but you guess it’s not in the same way, not as deeply.

What about before, even before the first time you had sex. Because maybe, it could be that you’re thinking this just because you slept together? Like, you could be the one mistaking your emotions now.

You still felt this kind of connection before, though. With the Jungkook who was just your best friend. You don’t feel it for Namjoon who’s just your friend. You don’t feel that kind of tight embrace around you when he lingers his eyes on you for too much, his laughter doesn’t make you giggle like Jungkook’s. You don’t feel lost when he’s not talking to you or not meeting your eyes when you look at him. You wouldn’t want to have anything more with him in the first place, cause he’s just Namjoon. And for god’s sake, you wouldn’t have wanted it with Jungkook neither, if you didn’t feel already more. The fact that you were already ready to just welcome him in when the opportunity of being closer knocked on your door, well… that’s the answer. You still remember it, the frustration of seeing him so tired and the need to make him feel better after a shitty day, the need you had to take care of him when you first slept together.

You were never just friends. Maybe in the first place, maybe at the beginning, maybe when you were younger. You just simply got used to him and his presence, never really gave your eyes a chance to see clearly, never really made yourself look at him differently because he was just… your Jungkook.

But, what now? Is he still- Jungkook? Like, your best friend? Now that you realised, now that you understand the reason why you wondered when the next time was going to be, how; the reason why his eyes slipped in your mind at night, his words, the way he called you the last time you slept together.

Now that you realise that, could you go back to who you were before? Just, craving for his touch but telling yourself that it’s not okay, looking at him and wishing you could take away all of his tiredness but thinking that it’s normal, for a friend. Wanting to take every part of him and know it all, looking from far away, peeking out and stealing some but not getting it whole. Could you still do that? Cause before, you didn’t know at least. Now, could you? Sentimentally too, would you be okay with it?

Jungkook just wants to go to sleep and forget about the shitty day he had. He didn’t sleep well tonight, the house feels to empty without you and last night his brain just wouldn’t stop working, kept wondering about you. If you had dinner, what time did you go to sleep at, how much did you work, if you finished the last drama you were watching.

Today, it was pretty much just the same. The fear of you not coming back insinuated in his mind at some point during work, he even took a break and had a snack but he just kept picturing himself inside your house, all alone. Him without you, his best friend and his person. He typed on your chat for multiple times, asking you if you were eating your meal correctly, how work was going, if you were craving for ice cream just like he was, he texted sorry too, but he always ended up not sending the messages.

He’s tired, work was rough and he wishes he could just go back in time to ask you what you want to eat for dinner, he’d cook it even though he’s tired as hell. He wouldn’t sleep for three days straight, if that would be able to bring you back just to have dinner together.

He hates to know that you feel uncomfortable with him, can’t come back home because he’s there, that you won’t look at him in the same way as you did before. He hates to not have you by his side, when just a look could make him happy.

The guys packed him on the shoulder, told him that he did the right thing, but he doesn’t think so. These days have been hell. There’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about the way you looked at him, how he stuttered those words out and doesn’t regret it.

Today they all had lunch together, with Eunji, Hana and Hyunjoo too. It was so odd to not see you there that he kept spacing out all the time. The girls didn’t talk about you and he even though he wanted to he didn’t ask because probably you didn’t tell them what happened.

The elevator doors open and the end of the hallway looks so far from here that he wishes he could teleport. Even the passcode of your door seems too complicated to enter now. He types the first three numbers, his eyes glued on the screen.

The door clicks, a grimace on his face, lips pouty in confusion. Then, your face.

Jungkook looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were one of them. His eyes open wider, lips ajar, his shoulders fall down. He feels like he’s dreaming. Is it real? You’re home. When did you come, why? What- fuck, he feels like he’s going to cry.

The way he looks at you with his big starry eyes, it makes you gulp. How your fingers tingle for the need you feel to squeeze him tight and never let go. There’s a knot in your throat and all you can do is stare at him and linger in the feelings that hit you like a fucking bucket of cold water. And it’s bitter that they taste like they always did: the sweetness is the same, the audacity just bolder now that you let the door open: but they taste just the same. All this time, all these years. They’ve always been in front of you, you’ve always been way to deep and only realised after so much.

«I… I- I cooked you dinner»

He doesn’t budge, still on the doorway and with his eyes glossy. You reach your hand to him, Jungkook still stuck in place as you gently grab his wrist to make him come in, his body almost stumbling at your touch as he enters.

You close the door behind him, leave his wrist.

«You- you… what? Are you…» he shakes his head, totally astonished.

«You cooked?» his tone makes your lips stretch into a smile.

«I cooked,» you nod «I cooked us dinner»

You didn’t think your heart could beat this fast. You really didn’t notice it for all this time. Every time it happened you always blamed it on something else, not the man in front of you. When his words would make you feel comforted, when you’d search for his eyes in the room, when just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease; in every moment the emotion you’re feeling now would bubble up in your chest just for you to push it aside without even noticing, a tag with the label friendship covering its true pinkish colour.

«Take your coat off» you coo. Jungkook stands still for a few seconds, still stunned. His eyes stare at you blankly until he nods. He puts his bag on the ground and hangs his jacket, you watch him move, eyes lingering on every part of him that you missed too much. His long hair, the bangs on his forehead, the mole on his nose, the one right under his lips. When he raises his eyes and finds you staring, you don’t move your eyesight. His eyes pierce right through you, deep and transparent just like the last time. They are scared, vulnerable and totally defenceless; if you looked closely enough, maybe you would’ve always seen it.

«Jungkook, I…»

His arms wrap around you.

It’s tight and soothing and the fucking consuming. You squeeze him in your hold, your head falls on his shoulder and you know that you can’t hold it in any longer.

«I’m so sorry,» you sniff «I was selfish. I’m sorry. I- I just-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» he sniffs too. The tears burn his eyes as he tries to keep them in but having you here in his arms makes it harder. He feels you hiccup, your back shakes, your hands fist his shirt, and your nose muffles into the crook of his neck. He clenches his jaw, squeezes you tighter.

«I’m sorry too»

«I was so scared. I just- I didn’t realise»

He knows, fuck he knows. He just wishes you wouldn’t vanish away. Don’t, just don’t cause he doesn’t think he will be able to forget himself.

«It’s okay, you don’t- just please don’t leave me» he whimpers.

Jungkook breaks down in your arms. He loves you too much, values you too much to not have you in his life. He doesn’t care how much he has to hurt or hold back, he can’t do this without you, without his best friend. The house felt so empty without you.

«I won’t,» you sob «I promise I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry and left. I needed time and- I- I needed to think» you sniff. His hands stroke your hair and you let go of a deep breath. You missed the feeling of his caresses, how his touch is always been enough to sooth you.

«You didn’t do anything wrong» he whispers. A tear streams down from the corner of his eye, it tickles his cheek and makes him loiter in the warmth of you even more.

«No, I- I was selfish… you opened up to me, and I- I left you. I’m-»

«You’re here,» he whispers «you came back. You’re here with me, you- you didn’t leave» his voice breaks and you feel him tremble. Your heart clenches and stings in your chest as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

«Just- please,» he pleads «stay with me»

Your dim breaks. You shake your head, lay your lips on his neck. He whimpers as he hiccups and when you lay a soft kiss on his skin Jungkook feels like dying inside. Your lips are so soft. Your nose brushes against him, another kiss laid on his skin just right upper, then another one and another one until you’re just under his jaw, his breath unstable as the tears wet his skin. Your hands leave his back, your body parts slightly, his hands reluctantly let go of the hold he has around you. You cup his cheeks, soft and reddish from the crying, look at him in those beautiful stars. They’re a bit swollen from the tears, his cheeks are damp, his lips trembling.

«I was so fucking scared that I didn’t realise»

«Me neither,» he nods «but it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. Just don’t leave. I can’t-» he gulps harshly.

«The thought of not having- you by my side, it killed me. I- I couldn’t sleep, work was hell, I-»

«I’m not leaving you» your hand tenderly strokes his hair. Jungkook stay still as you dry his tears with your thumb. You want to slap yourself for causing him so much pain, he must’ve felt so scared already and you just- you just made it harder. You should’ve talked to him, should’ve faced him.

«I promise» you smile softly. Jungkook could implode for how happy he feels right now, with you smiling at him just in the same way as you used to. Your lips tremble and a new hiccup comes out. His arms go back to where they were before, they squeeze you to him and it’s so familiar and bittersweet, it smells like home and trust and all you can do is let go in his embrace.

You let the rest of your tears come out, hear his breathing slow down, feel his heartbeat against you. You kiss his jaw, your lips tickle his wet skin, your hand reaches behind his neck and Jungkook wishes he could just take his heart out of his chest and step on it, make the feelings go away. But it’s just too saccharine, the way your lips linger on his skin for a second too long, how you perfectly fit in his arms.

«I want you,» you whisper «I want you whole» you lay another kiss on his mandible.

«I want every part of you, every- everything you can give» you peck his chin, look at his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t understand, his eyes wide and glossy stare at you as if you were telling him to solve the hardest mathematical problem ever. Still, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes your insides twist. He’s lost, totally.

If his love could be represented, he’d paint you in pinkish colours, then in black and white, in blue and all the colours in the world. He’d make a different version every time just to admire at your face some more, to keep the next one to himself when the lights will make the one before fade, so he’ll always be able to meet your eyes just like now. Remember the feeling you light up in him.

«I love you»

It’s odd, how lives intertwine. How people can take and give from each other pieces that can’t be seen, how two roads that never meet can lead to the same place. It’s beautiful, the way you speak. It’s dreamy. Its dreamy, the way you look at him, the way he used to look at you for all this time, it’s beautiful how your lives intertwined, how you became each other’s mystery and answer at the same time. How you’ve walked together for all this years, silently hand by hand but without ever looking down at them, not even knowing.

Jungkook laughs. He laughs as his tears fall down and he thinks that maybe the world will end, cause his head is spinning. You chuckle and your eyes are wet, and suddenly your hands cup his cheeks again.

«I love you» you repeat. He shakes his head, sniffing totally in disbelief.

«I do» you laugh, nodding. His head stops. His eyes widen slowly, the look on his face makes you bite down on your lips, it’s like seeing the sky clear after a thunderstorm, as if the sun was peeking out from behind the dark clouds. His mouth opens.

«I do» you whisper.

Suddenly he wants to cry even more. Your lips lock with his and it’s so gentle and sweet, and oh god, so consuming. You take all the space, every cellule of his body, all the air in the room, in the house even. You leave him breathless, lungs burning on fire. His lips are soft, wet with tears, salty. Jungkook whimpers in your mouth, his hand reaches your face and fuck, there’s no end. No end to how fucking much you have of him, how much of him is yours.

His thumb strokes your cheek, his other hand falls on your waist. His tongue is warm, his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, both of your hearts pounding. You kiss slowly, sweetly, lovingly. You wish you could never let go, have him like this forever. And for the first time your thoughts are the same as Jungkook’s in this moment. If he could read your mind, how big would be the smile stretching on his face. Jungkook smiles on your lips, his teeth brush against your tongue, his digits on your waist lightly dig into your skin. When you part, your eyes are still shut, foreheads pressing against each other.

«I’m sorry,» you mumble on his lips, he shakes his head, pecking your lips with such tenderness «I’m sorry it took me so long to realise»

Jungkook is the happiest man in the world.

You came back, you’re in his arms, you love him. You fucking love him, you do.

«It’s okay, it’s perfect. You- just please come to me» he guides you close to him again, you shut your mouth when his warmth wraps around you, his eyes shut. You don’t want to let go, you won’t.

«Jungkook» you call softly. He hums against you neck, his lips dare to peck your skin and he can’t fucking believe that he gets to do it cause he simply can.

«When did you realise?»

«I already knew» he murmurs.

«But… on Eunji’s birthday… you came back home and were so drunk. You slept with someone else and I just- I guess my feelings were so strong that I couldn’t control them anymore»

«I slept with someone?» you ask, your head shooting up too look at him. Jungkook nods.

«You said he had a pretty dick» he chuckles for your choice of words, even though he can still fill it sting. Just the thought of you in someone else’s arms makes him heart clench.

«Oh! No!» you laugh, «Jungkook, I didn’t sleep with anyone. He was peeing outside of the club and I was so drunk that I kept repeating him that he had a pretty dick for all the way home» you explain.

«Ew, it’s so embarrassing. Eunji made him take me home because he’s her brother’s best friend»

Jungkook can’t believe his ears. His eyes are about to roll out of his sockets for how wide they are.

«You- I thought…» he shakes his head.

«I didn’t, you know I don’t feel comfortable in those type of situations» you shake your head.

«Even though… last week I-»

«I know» he murmurs.

«You know?» he nods.

How does he? You don’t understand, how is-

«I came home early and- I… heard» his words are faint, a thin line that holds all the pain his heart was stained with. It echoes in the room, gets back to your ears until your eyes widen and you feel disoriented.

«So you-» you can’t even process your words properly «I’m so sorry, fuck» you really don’t know how to apologise. He was at home, while you were under another man. He heard you. His eyes were swollen the next morning, that’s why. He couldn’t even look at you.

«If I knew, I wouldn’t- I…»

He smiles softly, his heart clenches.

«You’re in my arms now» his lips tremble slightly.

«I just kept thinking about you and when it was going to happen again. I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t have slept together in the first place, I felt guilty that I thought about my best friend in such ways and- I- I told myself that it was happening because I hadn’t slept with anyone else for a while»

You do your best to explain without getting your words intertwined, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change into an angry one, he doesn’t glare at you, doesn’t budge. He just nods, smiles sweetly.

Love can be blind. It can blind you to the point that you can’t see straight, can’t decipher what’s happening. You were scared, lost.

«I hurt you so fucking much» you whisper.

«Maybe it had to happen, for us to be here» he whispers.

«I don’t care about anything,» he strokes your hair «It hurt. But you’re here with me and I just- I just want you close to me»

His arms hold you just for the sake of it.

His warmth is intoxicating, the sound of his breath too. You wish you realised sooner, you wish that he didn’t have to hear you in such circumstances cause the pain on his face the next day was unbearable. When he saw you the next morning, all he could think about was you under someone else, your skin against his, your eyes looking at him in the same way you looked at him. The same thoughts that teared him apart for all night long. But now, it doesn’t matter. It was just a step that had to be taken, in a way or another. It was just something that guided you to him, in his arms right now.

Something in the air shifts. All your senses tingle, they scream for him and his touch just the same as Jungkook’s. He wants to have you, the most vulnerable part of you, like no one else ever did. You want his lips and his caresses, his eyes deep into yours.

«Let’s go to bed?»

His breath catches in his throat.

«I want you closer than this»

The path to your bedroom never felt so good to walk on, with Jungkook’s fingers digging in your hips and his lips on your neck. It’s thrilling, the feeling running through your body. It’s saccharine, sugar coated. Your hands in his hair fit so good, the way you whimper when you stumble cause you can’t see in front of you, how he chuckles on your lips.

«I want you in my bed,» he breathes on your lips «wanna keep you there all night long»

Fuck, the way he makes you melt in his arms with just a few words. You nod eagerly, letting your hands run on his back. Jungkook can’t hold himself back any longer, gripping you by your thighs and kissing your neck, his lips are wet and with the air your skin fills of shivers. His fingers dig into your skin as he moves towards his bedroom.

«I want you so bad» you whine.

«Gonna give it to you baby, everything you want»

The door is shut and Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to let go of holding you as he kisses your lips. It’s too much to ask of him, after loving you for so long. You’re too breathtaking, too perfect.

«Let me» he kisses you again «open the d-» another kiss. You laugh on his mouth, his giggles fill the air as he keeps pecking your lips.

«Kook, the door»

He smiles big, turns around to make you open the door without letting you go. It stays open when he walks inside, doesn’t care at all and just walks to the bed, leans you down on his sheets.

«Take it off» you mumble. He moans when your hands reach his skin under the shirt, nuzzles his face into your neck. You lift the cloth, Jungkook kisses your clavicle, his lips get as low as your shirt permits, his nose brushes against the swell of your breasts. You pinch his back, giggle when he whines.

«Want you naked» you remind. He laughs and looks into your eyes, totally drunk.

«You’re so impatient» he sniggers, making you smile and turn. Your cheeks grow red as your eyes look at his nightstand.

«Look at me»

His fingers reach the hem of his shirt as you turn again, he lifts it more and takes it off from between your legs; the view makes you salivate, his muscles on full display, his brownish nipples getting hard with the cold air.

«Want me to take my pants off too?»

You want to smack his ass but you refrain yourself, you know he’s just teasing you like always.

«Shut up» you shake your head. His fingers reach the button of his pants, he slides it through the hole, pulls the zipper down.

«Let me» you sit on the bed. You kiss his neck, let your fingers graze the skin of his chest, your touch makes his cock twitch, hard and swollen in his boxers. You let your hand pass over his navel, down until you reach his dick.

Your hand lingers on it, Jungkook’s head falling back.

«Fuck, you’re too much» he moans.

«Make me so hard by doing nothing» he hisses. Butterflies fill your chest, your hand squeezes him through the cloths and you feel yourself getting wetter as he lets out a rough breath. God, the sounds he makes. They make you want to surrender to him and his pleasure, you feel the need to take him in your mouth as if your life depended on it. His hands go back on your body, fast fingers fist the material of your skirt.

«You’re too impatient» you mock. He hums a soft giggle looking at you.

«I am» he admits. Your sneaker in response makes him smile big and he lays his forehead on yours. He looks at you with those eyes, all the stars in the world couldn’t be as bright and magnificent as them and you can’t help but dive deeper and deeper.

«I want to make love to you, wanna make you feel so good» and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud. To let you know.

You kiss him, really too impatient to hold back any longer. He helps you out of your skirt, takes your shirt off, makes you lay on the bed as he takes his pants and boxers off, his socks too. And fuck, the way he looks. How fucking gorgeous this man is when he’s just standing in front of you with his cock hard and standing proudly, cockhead red and swollen, skin exposed and the tattoos on his arm on full display.

«Fuck, come here» you beg. Jungkook doesn’t let you repeat it twice, his body hovers yours and you open your legs to welcome him. He kisses your right hip, his lips are wet and they tickle your skin, make you squirm under him as he cups your breast from over the bra.

«Fuck, I love you» he hisses as he looks up at you. You can’t control the beat of your heart, too lost in him and how much youu’ r been missing. You can’t believe it took you so long to finally understand. Your lips part as you stare down at his face, his dark eyes on you. He kisses your stomach with his eyes in yours, the scene makes you so wet that you wrap your legs around him and Jungkook’s cock brushes against your panties. He moans, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, his mouth is still on you and the lace of your panties feels so fucking good on the underside of his cock that he shuts his eyes. He can feel your wetness even through them, they are soaked. Fucking hell. Your legs squeeze him more as you look at him, his mouth open and eyebrows pinched together. You lift your hips, to give him some friction. Hic cock twitches against you and you let out a breathy moan that makes him open his eyes.

«Oh, fuck» he moans. It’s guttural and so fucking sexy. You can’t wait to hear more, you want to make him crazy.

«Grind against me» you breathe. His cock twitches again, his jaw clenches. He lets you pull him closer with your legs, keep him tight against you until his cock is practically glued to your panties, your pussy totally soaked. His hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them gently while looking at you, your head digs into the pillows, a moan escapes your lips and Jungkook can’t help but do the same. His hips move tentatively, his cock rubs against the lace and the pressure gets to your clit. Your moan makes him whimper, your voice so sweet that it makes him repeat his movements. He can feel the outline of your lips from your panties and it’s fucking killing him.

«Fucking panties» he hisses, somehow making you laugh.

«Mh, what?» he smiles at you, his cock still brushing against your throbbing clit. You bite your lips.

«Nothing, just you» you shake your head. The pleasure is so good. Jungkook keeps smiling as he kisses the tip of your nose.

«Me what?» he asks, his fingers get under the strap of your bra, he pushes it down on your shoulder.

«Just you,» you smile «I don’t know»

He’s so fucking happy.

«Am I funny to you?» he bumps his nose against yours. His movements are slow and controlled, his thighs glued to the back of yours, eyes right deep into yours. He moves his hand under your back, his fingers fumble with the opening of your bra.

«Sometimes» you laugh, cupping his cheek. You kiss him sweetly, Jungkook smiles on your lips as he lifts the bra from your chest, he guides the straps down your shoulders and your arms until he lets it fall on the ground. He pecks your lips once more, finally fondles your breast with his hand. Your nipples are hard and he wants to tease them until you squirm under him. His cock jerks when you moan under him, the pads of his fingers brushing against them.

«Kook» you whimper. He kisses your neck all the way down to your chest, his lips lock around the pebble of your nipple as he teases the other with his fingers. Your back arches, mouth opens.

«Feels so good» you breathe. He flicks his tongue repeatedly, sucks lightly as he ruts his cock up and down on your clit. Your legs tremble, he lets go of your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. It feels too good.

«Fuck»

His hand travels on your stomach, his fingers pass your hip and reach the inside of your tights to caress it softly, tickling your skin until he presses his cock against you with his palm, his cockhead heavy on your clit. You squirm under him as he kisses your neck, his moans fill up your ears as he works his cockhead on it.

«Tell me you’re mine» he nuzzles his face into your skin. His balls are so tight he could cum right now.

«Jungkook, I’m going to-» you can’t even speak, you’re so close your blood is running hot in your veins. The pleasure it’s too much, it keeps building up and you just want to succumb.

«I’m yours»

«Only for me» he grunts.

He parts his cock from your pussy. You want to ask why but a second later his fingers link around the hem of your panties and he pushes them down onto your thighs and over your knees until they pass your ankles and get lost in the room. The need to take a good look at your wetness stops him from pushing his cock back to where it was. He stares down at your lips, parts them with his fingers and fuck, he wants a taste. Your juices are leaking out from your hole so deliciously that he can’t hold back and gathers them with his thumb.

«So fucking wet» he praises.

His lips wrap around his thumb, sucking on it and tasting you, his cock twitches as it stands angrily. You taste so sweet, so delicious for him that he promises himself he’s going to make you cum like this tonight, eat every drop, swallow all your sweetness. And then start all over again.

«Wanna be the only one who gets to taste your beautiful pussy»

Your hands grab his wrist on your leg as you nod.

«I promise» you whisper.

Jungkook lays on top of you again, he lets his wet thumb brush against your nipple as he his cock parts your lips and slides back between them. Your folds feels so good against him, the sensation makes him bite on his lips as he suppresses a loud moan. Your nails dig into his back as you look at his face, so fucking beautiful. It’s paradoxical how you think he looks like an angel when his cock it’s sliding against you so agonisingly.

«I want you to cum like this» he breathes.

He pushes his cockhead against your clit, rubs it in circular motions and then up and down, from side to side. Your juices mix with his precum, it’s so fucking wet that your juices drip on his sheets. He wants them to smell like you, to remember the way you smell when you’re working and he’s waiting for you at home, wants your juices to fucking claim his sheets.

«Can you do it? Cum all over my cockhead, baby. Do it for me»

Fuck, how couldn’t you. It’s too much. Especially when he’s asking you like this, looking at you like you’re the essence of his world.

You nod quickly, your chest raises up and down at a torturing pace and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you. He loves you so fucking much, you’re his. Fucking his.

«I’m- fuck, I’m going to cum»

«Me too, baby. Cum with me?» he sweetly brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, he kisses your cheek with such tenderness and sincerity and your heart just can’t process it. It explodes in your chest, your legs shake and suddenly you’re whimpering and squeezing your eyes shut, your head digs into his pillows, your walls tighten. Jungkook grunts, pushing all the length of his cock against your folds and wrapping you closer to him in his arms. He cums so hard that his head falls on your chest, his moans muffled against your skin. His cock jerks, his cum wets your stomach and drips down your thighs and onto the sheets, a bit of it on his abdomen and chest too as he lets himself lay on top of you.

It’s blissful, the way your fingers stroke his hair as he breathes harsly, he feels his heart pound and his insides melt. You stay silent, look at him just laying in your arms. You never felt so light, so free as now. Love can be blind, so blind that something so special had to wait all this time to finally be seen; all these years and your souls intertwined in every way possible, the roots of your plants were always in the same pot. You were so used to his presence and his leaves that you didn’t realise how much soil you shared, how deeply were intertwined your roots, how they held each other up with such tenderness and love. You want to see his flowers, want to share your water with him, you want to bloom and wilt with him, you want it all.

«I love you»

You caress his cheek even though you can’t see them, his eyelashes flutter against your chest and he raises his face to look at you, then rests again on top of you.

«I love you too» he answers. A big smile. Starry eyes, rosy cheeks, messy hair, totally love drunk. And you couldn’t love it more. You pinch the apple of his cheeks, he scrunches his nose and pouts his lips.

You feel attacked, seriously.

«Why are you so cute?» you whine. His giggles fill the room as he gets up. He lays beside you, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

«I want to spoon you» his fingertips dig into your hips as he kisses your shoulder. You huff contently, turning around. His legs intertwine with yours and Jungkook rests his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, his chest tight against you.

«Are you comfortable?» he pecks your cheek. It’s perfect.

You nod and shut your eyes, lingering in the feeling of the moment.

«Don’t sleep» he whines, pinches your hip.

«I haven’t finished with you yet»

«What? I’m tired» you laugh. You really aren’t, but you like to tease him. Your eyes open, head turns slightly to look at his eyebrows furrowing as he frowns.

«It’s not true» he blubbers. Fuck, how can he look so adorable in such a situation? All naked, tight against you.

«It is,» you pout back «I’m really tired» you fake a yawn. His head falls on the pillow.

You stay still for a little, then decide that you want to look at his pretty face. He wails as you turn around, clearly not okay with it.

«Let me spoon you at least»

«Wanna look at your pretty face» you puff at him. His body relaxes and when you turn around the view hits you like a truck on a highway. His hair are messy, long strands following sweetly the roundness of his cheek as he stares at you. His eyes are round, doe-like, incredibly profound they capture the light of the room and exhibit it perfectly, stars scattered across their skies. His lips are red, and it’s because of you. You caress his cheek, brush the strands away. He smiles largely, his hand grazes the back of yours and squeezes it, his other one behind your back so sweetly that you melt.

«You can fall asleep on my chest» he murmurs. You shake your head.

«I was just teasing you,» you giggle «don’t wanna sleep now»

He huffs, faking annoyance but it’s just really endearment.

You graze his chest with your fingers, tickle him with the nails as you slowly move up and down. His cock is still hard, the tip red.

«You’re… you’re still hard» you breathe.

Jungkook looks at you, the way your eyes stare at his cock on his abdomen, a big smile stretching on his lips as his cheeks grow a little reddish.

«Can’t help it baby,» he simply says «it’s what you do to me»

He doesn’t lead the conversation anywhere else, as if he doesn’t intend to do anything about it, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips. He stares at you in awe, he can’t believe he gets to do this. In his arms, you naked and relaxed, laying down to stay. You don’t get up to leave his mattress and go back to just being friends, close but not close enough, a heartbeat away. Laying with you feels ecstatic. It’s the forbidden fruit, the one he always craved for; the intimacy of it, being in your rawest states and still trusting each other in such a profound way, getting to see each others fully in every way possible, physically, emotionally.

«Love» you whisper. His big eyes look straight at you, his heart stumbles in his chest.

«Last time… you called me love»

«I… couldn’t hold back» he shakes his head, nuzzling into you.

«It felt different from the times before, it was…»

«I was making love to you» he mumbles. The way he clings his chin to the fist of his hand on the pillow right after makes your stomach clench. The silence creates a foggy haze in the room, but you still see each other clearly. He must’ve hurt so much, for so long. You want to make him smile. You want to reassure him, make him feel loved just as he did to you that day.

«My baby» you whisper, leaving a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it and smiles big at you.

«Let me do the same- » you kiss his lips and although the intention was to go for just a peck Jungkook’s lips keep you attached to him like a magnet «and make you feel good?»

«Mmph…» he moans as soon as your hand reaches the base of his cock. You feel it twitch, watch it as it gets even harder in your hand. Jungkook gulps, shuffling on the mattress to get comfortable. The view of your pretty little hand around him makes him longing, yearning to have you all over him. He doesn’t even have to wait after cuming already, he knows he could be ready for you right now. And when you stroke him, oh god, the sound he makes… you wish you could record it and play it all over again and again.

He folds his arms, rests on the back of them to look at the view properly, head up and chest raising roughly.

«Fuck, I love it» he hisses. You lick your lips, get closer to him on your side as you let your hand pull his foreskin back, his cockhead furious and leaking precum already.

«You like it?» you coo. He looks at you, your lips wet and your eyes gawking at him. You make him powerless just by doing nothing. Your thumb touches his slit.

«Shit, yes» he moans.

«Love it, I love it»

You smile at him. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off your face and your hand, not even for a second. When you gather his precum and stroke it all over his cockhead he breathes hard and suddenly he craves for a taste of you. His chin points at you, lips pouting as his cock pulses in your hand.

You peck his lips, tighten your hand around him and twist your wrist. He moans loudly, his head falls back.

«Fuck» he cries.

«You’re so beautiful» you whisper.

«Want you to feel so good»

He nods lazily, his eyes shut. Your hand is… perfect. Just perfect. It makes him thaw under you, for you, until he’s just whining and moaning, totally lost.

«You- nnngh- you do»

You push his hair behind his ears, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this feeling. This kind of excitement while doing something for someone else, only for him. This part of you is his, tied and bound to his soul.

«All the time» he shivers.

«Every fucking time you- fuck» his moan is high pitched, desperate. He’s losing his mind, it’s too much when you stroke his cock and have your pretty eyes looking at him so sweetly, holding all the love he always wished to get from you. It’s too much, and he just wants to explode.

«Every fucking time, you don’t even realise,» he shakes his head «you- you just, fuck I love you»

It’s brutal, how he takes your face in his palm and pushes your lips onto his, brutal for your heart. Such a crook.

The kiss is messy, sloppy, totally heedless. He just wants you close, it’s just for the sake of feeling you more, and it makes you so wet you feel your juices drip down your asshole.

«Love you- so fucking much» he whines. You kiss him more, stroke his cock until his balls are tight and Jungkook is squirming on the bed, his sounds creating the perfect melody for your ears, his pleasure skyrocketing until he just knows he has to stop you.

His hand wraps around yours, stopping your movements.

«Want you,» he hisses «wanna cum inside you while I feel you close» you couldn’t resist such a plea even if you wanted to.

You smile at him and nod, your skin is on fire just at the thought of it. Jungkook’s hand tickles your side as it descends on your hip, his digits dig into your skin. He goes to sit up but you stop him with your hand on his chest.

«Huh?» he hums puzzled, his lips forming an “o” and his eyebrows high.

«Let me» you smile. Fuck, he feels like cuming already.

«Let me take care of you» you whisper. Jungkook hisses as he lays back down, soft strands of hair spread on the pillow and starry eyes look at you while you straddle him. He doesn’t know if you resemble more an angel or the devil himself with your love surrounding him and your dangerous touch, but maybe you’re the collision of both.

You lay down to kiss his lips, a soft and gentle kiss that makes him yearn even more just because it’s ohso lovely.

He must’ve been blessed, cause when you let your hips grind against him and he feels the warmth of your core he feels like he’s in heaven. Maybe you’re an angel, most definitely the prettiest of all.

Your lips feels so fucking good that his cock jerks and he has to hold back himself from cuming.

«Fuck, wait-» he hisses.

«I don’t think I can- I need to desensitise a bit or I- I’ll cum»

You stop your movements and lean down to kiss him some more. You caress his cheek, Jungkook’s arm can’t help but keep you close and tight against him. Your soft breasts feel so good against the hardness of his chest, your hair hanging down from the side of your face. His hand squeezes your asscheek and a cheeky grin appears on his face.

«Feels so good to get to do this» he pipes.

«You used to do that before too» you snigger and he squeezes your flesh once more.

«Only in bed» he laughs. You shake your head and pinch his right nipple lightly, watching as he keens and brings his hand to cover the injured part.

«Why?» he whines with his eyes closed. You lay down and kiss the tip of his nose.

«I get to do this too» you coo. He sighs deeply and glares at you, lips pouty.

«You used to do this before too» he murmurs. You smile at him.

«Not in bed? I should’ve and could’ve but I didn’t. I had to try»

«Fuck, you’re so annoying» he groans even though a big smile is already stretching on his lips. It’s beautiful how the change of your relationship didn’t change the way you act around each other, the same old habits and teases.

«Should I kiss it for you?» you laugh. Jungkook peeks at you from his half lidded eyes.

«Do I get to kiss your ass when I’m outside of bed?»

Your laugh fills the room, the apples of your cheeks full. He pushes you onto him, his hand coming to your face, he kisses your lips, pecks your nose and your cheeks, your forehead too. Silence spread in the air as he pours his love onto you with caresses and little sighs, totally rapturous.

You kiss his neck, his clavicles, his shoulders and his pecs, lick on his nipple. Jungkook squirms under you and a second later you’re… kissing it. He laughs out loud, his giggles are high pitched and he scrunches his nose as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. So fucking cute, you think. You want to keep him in your pocket and never let go.

«Are we ready to go?» you giggle as he still laughs. Jungkook nods, eyes bright. His bangs are messy and you take some time to brush them with your fingers as his chuckles summer down.

«It’s gonna be messy again, come on» he whines.

«So impatient,» you sigh «let me make my baby pretty» you coo. Jungkook whines again.

«Please,» he strokes your back «wanna be inside you»

«Mmh, ‘kay baby» you hum against his lips. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, blow on it just to hear the sound of his humming when he shudders under you as you take a hold of the base of his cock. He’s so hard that you let out a dreamy sigh, totally in love with the feeling of him in your hand. Jungkook’s hips stutter up, his cheeks paint of red when his eyes meet you and you wonder if it’s just the warmth of the room or your effect on him.

Your core brushes against him and he releases a soft yearning hum. You sit up, breast on full sight and eyes on him as you push yourself onto him. It’s so fucking wet and tight and delicious that he doesn’t ever want to leave your pussy. Fuck, he’d spend every second of the day inside you if he could.

«So tight» he moans. You slowly fill yourself up with him, he grabs your breasts and squeezes them, fumbles your soft flesh as you start to move unrushed. You’re so beautiful on top of him, so pretty. All for him and him only.

«Talk to me» Jungkook wants to hear your words as you ride him. The position is totally new to the both of you but fuck, it feels perfect. He fills you up so good that your walls pulsate all around him, getting to see him under you with his big dark eyes on your face makes you want to spoil him in all the love he showered you with the last time and even more, you want him to feel totally engulfed by it, from how much you love him.

«Love it, I love your cock» you moan. You put your weight on your hands on the bed, leaning back a little as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you. Jungkook pinches your nipple, your breasts look so good that he wishes he could kiss your skin. He watches them bounce with every move, feels his cock throb and leak precum inside you. It’s so fucking wet, your juices mixed together and god, the sounds you make could make him crazy.

«How much?» he hisses. You bite your lips.

«So much baby» you whine. His hand reaches your clit, he rubs it gently with his thumb and looks at your face. His heart pounds wildly, you turn him on so much that he has to restrain himself every time. However, now he wants you close and even though he’s loving the way you’re taking him so good, your body is too far for him.

«Love» he calls out putting both of his hands on your hips and staring up at you. You look down at him, his skin is a bit sweaty and his lips red from all the kisses you shared. Jungkook sits up.

«Want you closer, please» he maffles.

«Let me open my legs so I can hold you»

You let his cock pull out, the loss of contact makes you grimace and Jungkook smiles endeared as he pinches your cheek. He opens his thighs, his cock stands proud against his abdomen, so pretty. He guides you onto him, your thighs over his and your pussy back on him. His hands grab the flesh of your ass, his face hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent as you take him back into your heaven. Like this, he thinks he could die happily. Fuck, so close and perfect. The contact of your skin makes him breathless, the feeling of you all over him, so tight that not a single inch isn’t against him. The way you hug his cock makes his head spin, how you grind your hips into him and dig your nails into his back. Your moans in his ears, he captures every single and makes sure that the next one comes out because you’re feeling even better. He rubs your clit, sucks your nipples, kisses your neck, keeps you close until your sweats mix and all he can do is breathe you in.

«You’re perfect» you whisper. His heart trembles, all the defences he had to put on for all these years without even realising are down on the floor, totally scattered in pieces. They burn into ashes, fire takes over them completely until there’s nothing left but haze, and then there’s you. You on top of him, you under him, you on his lips, you in his mind, just you. You’re everywhere, part of him.

«I was so stupid-» you hiss as he kisses your cheek «fuck, how could I not see it?»

His nose nuzzles into your cheek and he pecks your skin repeatedly, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit.

«Ssh, we’re- nngh fuck, we’re here now» he reassures.

«Never wanna leave you,» you mumble «never»

Jungkook feels like crying suddenly. There’s a knot in his throat that tastes like pain, like all the tears he shed and every night he spent thinking about you. All the worry that he felt when you weren’t with him, the feeling of loveliness without you by his side, the feeling of not being enough to be seen, to be considered as more. It all gets back to him and his eyes burn, his vision becomes foggy, his breath ragged for the pleasure of having you here.

«Baby,» he whines «feel like crying» his voice trembles.

You stop your movements, totally focus on him. Jungkook shakes his head though, pushes you onto him more to make you keep going.

«Just make love to me» he whispers.

«I still can’t- still can’t believe you’re mine»

«I’m yours» you don’t wait a second more to let it out. You watch him beam with his eyes glossy and can’t help but kiss him. You kiss all of his worries away, every single one. As you make love to him so sweetly, they all melt. He cries, salty tears mix with your kisses, your hands dry them and you kiss the path they walked on. You spoil him with your touch, your caresses, even your breath on his skin. Jungkook can’t even speak properly from the feeling in his chest.

«I love you, love»

«Fuck, oh god- call me that again» he moans. He lets his head fall back as you keep moving, the expanse of his neck displayed for you. You let your hand trace it and then do the same for his chest, rub his nipples and hear him moan.

«My love» you repeat, breath rough.

«Mine, you’re mine»

«Fuck yes,» he whimpers «yours baby»

You want to make him cum. You want to see him shake in pleasure and contract his abs, you want everything he can give and more. Your hand travels farther down, Jungkook squeezes your ass again as he feels your touch graze his skin until you get to his balls. They’re wet with your juices, so tight and full of cum for you. He moans loudly, his mouth attaches your neck as you caress them sweetly in your hand. Your touch is so gentle and his cock feels so fucking good, his body feels like levitating from how much you’re giving him. It’s too much to hold back.

«God, you’re- you’re going to make me-» he howls «cum» he shudders.

You kiss him deeply, your tongues in each others mouth and your eyes closed, foreheads touching and hearts glued to each other.

«Cum for me» you breathe on his lips.

«Cum inside me, show me how you cum for me, love»

His eyes open, eyebrows furrow as he moans. You kiss him more, spoil him totally. You whisper how much you love him, how good he feels inside you, how beautiful he is. Until it’s fucking unbearable, his cock twitches and all he can do is let go. Jungkook groans, digs his nose into your neck in such a desperate way that you feel your heart being wrapped tightly and squeezed almost to the point that you can’t breathe anymore, his whimpers come out muffled on your skin, his cum filling you up totally as you keep moving on top of him and in his hold. You cum with his moans in you ears as you milk him dry, the room spinning and your legs shaking. You collapse in his arms, feel him sob in your hold. Even when you don’t realise it you kiss his hair, stroke his back as your body feels light and wobbly, totally lost in its high. You cup his cheeks and peck his lips, the mole right under, the one on his nose, his forehead. Jungkook never wants to let go.

«Cuddles» he murmurs on your neck right after, hiding from the world. You nod lazily, his cock still inside you.

It’s weird, the roads that love takes and the path it walks onto. It’s odd, how it can blossom without asking for permission, how it grows and spreads, takes over everything it finds on its way. It’s beautiful, how Jungkook clings onto you like you’re love itself and you do the same for him, roots intertwined and shared soil in the same pot, one soul fixed together with pieces of each other, like it’s always been. Since you were sixteen and he was nineteen, for all these years. And for many more to come

Read more about Closer here: Closer: Too Close (Teaser)

Read my other works here: Masterlist

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