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simpxxstan · 5 months ago

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HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗

But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??

Thank you!! Have a good day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.

word count: 13k words.

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.

"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.

y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.

choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.

nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.

"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"

"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."

you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.

the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.

"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.

the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.

mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.

this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.

at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.

however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.

it doesn't work.

it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.

it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.

moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.

"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.

"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.

seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."

his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.

you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).

as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.

the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.

"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."

his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.

on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.

y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.

you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).

so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.

"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."

but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.

"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.

"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."

you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.

he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.

i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.

after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"

you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.

"knowing your opponent."

"i already know you."

"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."

your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"

"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"

"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."

"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."

"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."

seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."

you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."

"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"

"and what if i do?"

seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."

"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."

fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?

"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"

by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.

finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.

lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.

it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.

the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.

the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.

but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"

"they're not going to come today, y/n."

seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.

"sorry, what?"

"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."

"and how do you know?"

seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."

you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.

it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.

when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.

when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"did you bribe them?"

he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"

you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"

"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."

"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"

seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"

"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."

"only me?"

"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."

"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"

you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"

"you're the one making false allegations here, really."

"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"

"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."

as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"

"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.

your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.

"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"

"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."

you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"

seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.

you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.

after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.

"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."

"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"

"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."

seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)

it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

y/n's words ring in his mind.

as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.

he's a failure.

he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.

that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!

he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.

stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!

and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.

appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...

all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.

he's disappointing you too.

he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.

or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

you remind him of himself.

but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.

you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.

because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.

no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.

the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.

after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-

"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.

"get in, rookie."

you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.

he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?

"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.

"so late at night?"

"it was important."

"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

"no."

you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.

"where's your home?"

you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."

"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"

"you're out of your mind."

"huh?"

"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."

"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"

"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."

"y-your home?"

"yes. do you have a better idea?"

you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.

"i'll always be grateful to you."

seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.

seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.

when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.

he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.

there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"

seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?

he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"

"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.

"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"

"are you also a lawyer?"

"did you get caught in the rain?"

"do you work with appa in his office?"

"do you want fresh clothes?"

you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.

about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.

"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."

seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.

the idea of a family.

the idea of giving them a new mother figure.

as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.

"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...

except right now.

right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.

maybe he's found the one.

and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.

you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.

"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.

he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.

"hi. tea?"

you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.

"i didn't know you were a father."

seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."

"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."

"that's deep."

"but it's true."

seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.

"i still have about an hour and half left."

"will you go home and then-"

"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"

"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."

and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.

now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.

your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.

the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.

seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.

but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.

"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"

"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"

"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."

seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.

"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.

"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"

"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."

"you're bluffing me."

"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."

"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-

"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"

seungcheol's heart skips a beat.

"do not bring them into this."

"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."

"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"

his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.

"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.

"what have you been hiding from me?"

"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"

"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."

"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."

"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."

"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"

"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.

"i didn't think it would be important-"

"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."

there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.

"there's an outstation branch..."

the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.

there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.

but you'd proven them wrong.

yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.

and yet you feel empty.

seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.

but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.

it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.

your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.

"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"

he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.

"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."

"and how do you know my birthday?"

he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."

there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.

"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"

"it did help me get into your house."

you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"

you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?

"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.

"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.

"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.

"fuck that. this isn't about that."

you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"

seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"

"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.

"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"

"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.

"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"

your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.

"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"

he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.

"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"

your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-

seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.

"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."

then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.

"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.

"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.

"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."

"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?

you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.

"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.

"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?

"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"

"maybe, yes?"

he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"

seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.

"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.

"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"

you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?

seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.

and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.

but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.

"let me return the favour, darling."

you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.

"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"

"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.

you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."

"i've never done this before..."

"what? sex?"

"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."

and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.

thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.

"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.

"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.

"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.

"do you have a condom?" he asks you.

"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.

"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.

and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."

you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.

"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."

something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.

you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.

you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.

you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.

when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.

"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.

he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."

seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.

everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.

but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.

he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.

today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.

and he knows why.

it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.

you're his.

finally.

well, hopefully.

jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.

and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.

so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.

"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."

as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.

"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"

"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"

and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.

"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.

"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.

"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."

never forget.

"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-

"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.

"i can't. you're too cute."

"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."

after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.

"you're very romantic today, mr choi."

"do you not like it?"

"no. on the contrary, i love it."

at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.

when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.

"come lie down next to me."

"no this view is prettier."

seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.

"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.

you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.

so he counts to three and says it.

"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."

a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.

"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."

well that was easy.

"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.

"don't laugh at me."

"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."

"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"

"am i not handsome now?"

"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."

seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."

you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.

"how long has it been since your last relationship?"

"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."

"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."

and then he lets out his breath.

"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.

he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.

and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.

you laugh.

"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"

"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.

but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"

"yeah."

you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."

seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."

you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.

when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."

"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"

girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."

you burst out laughing. "what?!"

"i'm much older than you, y/n."

"so?"

"i'm thirty-six, y/n."

"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."

seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."

"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.

"y/n, be serious."

"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"

"darling, i don't think that's how death works."

darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.

seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.

you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"

a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.

"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."

he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

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J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

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hier--soir · 1 year ago

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a lover's pinch | four

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: after a conference in new york, you and j miller phd take things a step further. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, i think i describe reader as having sweaty palms about 1500 times so it deserves a warning, alcohol consumption, the plight of being a woman in academia, oral [f receiving], unprotected piv sex [IN A BED ??? GASP] for you filthy animals, prone bone, a little roughness and then not much at all, uhhh pet names during sex.... uhhmm intimacy errrrrr.... soft!joel... feelings... okay bye word count: 9.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: hey folks, thank you so much for all your patience as i took my sweet sweet time writing this. we get to know our prof a little better in this one so a fair amount of dialogue for you but yeah anyways i hope you enjoy it, and i'd love to hear what you think! [and if i Fell Off because of the depression, don't tell me lol] A WORD ABOUT THE TAG LIST: i will continue the taglist for this part and for part five, and after that i will rely solely on my notifications account @hier--soirupdates so pls follow that and turn on notifs to be told when i post writing x this is part four of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three.

Saturday.

The conference centre is vast.

A large space that protects you from the threatening clouds that loom over New York City, and exposes you to countless dense conversations.

An NYU teacher’s assistant is glued to your hip, parading you through the centre with a wayward index finger that points out the bar, the room where the keynote speech will be given [large, with an imposing stage], and the room where you will give your presentation [less large, with a far less imposing stage].

Your presentation.

You fight the urge to pull up the email for the thousandth time while she explains how there will be fifteen minutes to set up beforehand, and advises on when the doors will open for guests, and reminds you that you have a strict allotted time of 20-minutes, do you understand?

But the email is branded on the inside of your eyelids after this morning’s flight was spent reading and rereading and rereading the words. So you nod and smile and placate her on the tour of the centre, as you run through it in your mind.

We look forward to welcoming you to NYU’s Annual Classics and Ancient History Conference. Our team was intrigued by the presentation devised around your translation study in Athens…

“Did you hear me?”

You wish she wasn’t dressed so casually.

Loose balls of lint are collected on the back of her cardigan like trinkets, weighty and threatening to fall off in a sort of bread crumb trail behind her every movement. It makes your dress feel all the more serious, all the more formal. Navy blue and a little tight, with sleeves that slant across the middle of your bicep and a hem that cuts modestly across your lower thigh. Professional, smart, sexy, but not too sexy. You and Nora spent two hours at the mall picking it out last weekend. And you can see people in suits, in blazers, in dresses, everywhere you turn, but your eyes keep returning to the TA’s cardigan. Little pills, sad morsels of broken fabric.

She says your name sharply.

“Yes,” you snap to attention, and clock her poor attempt not to roll her eyes. “You were saying?”

“It’s an open bar,” she continues from a few steps ahead, slowly back away while raising her voice to be heard over the countless others sprouting across the room. “And food is served after the Keynote.”

Finally free of her and her cardigan, you scale the edge of the hall, curious eyes glancing across faces familiar and not. You notice some other postgrads from UNE, and some professors from your alma mater. But it isn’t until three hours into the conference that you notice him.

You’re in a painfully long conversation with Professor Carmichael, an ancient history department head from Boston, when you notice them.

“Well you see,” he’s saying, slowly. “The First Roman Triumvirate was very unique. Surely you agree with me there, my dear?”

“Of course,” you nod amiably. A waiter floats past you holding a tray of glasses. You grasp one with a grateful smile, and turn back to face him with a sip of cold white wine moving down your throat. “The Big Three, it’s all very interesting. Although I must say, I am personally more interested in the second triumvirat—”

“Oh they all say that,” he waves his hand. “Everyone is so taken by Antony and Octavian that they forget about Crassus! So tragic.”

“A very tragic death,” you offer an exaggerated frown. “I agree.”

Carmichael hums, eyes narrowing as if you’ve said something wrong. Sipping your wine, your eyes float over his shoulder, determinedly trying to spot any sign of food, gaze spilling across countless faces and tables and waiters and professors until one set of people makes you pause. Wild dark hair atop a floral dress floats in your vision, her pale hand hovering over the sleeve of a tall man in a suit. You watch the backs of their heads; the way the woman tilts her chin upward to speak to the man and laughs at what he says in return. That laugh. You frown, and feel yourself take a step forward, a step in their direction.

“Is something the matter?” Carmichael asks and you halt, flash him a sweet smile and shake your head.

“No,” you rush, practically tasting the opportunity to escape the conversation. “I’m sorry, Professor, I thought I saw someone waving me over. If you don’t min—”

“Always so many people to talk to at these things,” he says in a sing-song tone of voice, smiling obliviously. “All in due course, dear. You’ll find them later I’m sure.”

It’s not until fifteen minutes later that the tap comes on your shoulder. You turn and feel relief wash over you as you come face to face with Rachel, with her tangle of curls and bright orange dress. But then a jolt shudders through your frame, for you spot the man accompanying her; the man you watched her traipse around the room with, the man in the sleek black suit—Joel, hovering a step behind her.

“Rachel,” you blink. “Joel. Hi—”

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Rachel says. Her eyes are wide, lips pulled back into a crooked grin that immediately sets you at ease. Joel, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable to say the least. You watch him tuck his hands in his pockets and then take them out again quickly, lips pursed together in a tight line as he glances between you and Professor Carmichael.

“Joel,” she grips the sleeve of his blazer and tugs him forward to stand beside her. You watch where her hand grazes him - the ease with which she jostles him around. “Did you know?”

“No.” He stares for a moment, lips parted and eyes darting across your face, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I’m giving a presentation,” you explain quickly, eyes darting between the two of them, fingers tightening around your glass every time your eyes settle on him. He trimmed his beard again; the hairs are shorter, neater—almost too short and too neat for your liking. His shirt is pressed and crisp, shock white beneath the midnight black of his jacket. He’s wearing different glasses. Tortoise shell glasses. Someone clears their throat to your right, snapping you out of your reverie. You apologise quickly, “This is Professor Carmichael.”

“Of course,” Joel nods, stepping forward to grip the older man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Professor.”

“And you, Professor Miller,” Carmichael chuckles, patting a shaky hand against Joel’s shoulder. “When was the last time we crossed paths? A year ago?”

“Must’ve been a year,” Joel smiles easily. His eyes slip to look at you every few seconds. “The conference in Ottawa.”

“The conference in Ottawa!” Carmichael cheers, nodding away. A weight sinks in your stomach like a cinder block as you watch the Professor gear up to wrangle Joel and Rachel into another conversation about Crassus’ untimely demise. But then Rachel slips away, called out to by someone across the room. And before Carmichael can open his mouth, Joel is speaking again, that honeyed drawl like music to your ears.

“Excuse me, Professor Carmichael,” he smiles again. Two of his fingers grip your elbow, tugging you a step backward. “Do you mind if I steal my star student for a few moments?”

Joel tilts your body to the left, and then the two of you are veering off into the crowd, wandering through throngs of people, his warm fingers pressed against the soft flesh above your elbow.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say under your breath, glancing around warily, trying to spy any curious eyes that might notice the two of you.

“Could say the same thing,” he murmurs, dragging you to a stop at the edge of the hall with his eyebrows raised. “When’s your talk?”

“At one. Overlaps with the Keynote, which I’m a little relieved about,” you smile, a pinched, tense thing. “Hopefully everyone will go to that, and I’ll have a smaller crowd.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. You think you notice his shoulders stiffen. “S’that right?”

A persistent pang of hunger stabs through your stomach, you rub a hand over the front of your dress and nod. Curious brown eyes follow the movement.

“Here,” Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. His fingers graze your skin as he tucks the shiny rectangle of foil into your palm. “They don’t put out any food until after the Keynote.”

It’s a granola bar. Peanut butter and banana. You stare at it for a moment, almost dumbfounded by the kindness of the gesture. By how attentive he is; how much he notices without you even having to speak.

“Thanks,” you say. Nestle it into your purse and give him an appreciative smile.

“Sure,” he nods jerkily. Adjusts the glasses on his nose. “I’m disappointed to miss it.”

“Oh?” you blink. Your eyes focus then, flitting downward to focus on the badge hanging from his lanyard.

Joel Miller, Ph.D.

University of New England.

Keynote Speaker.

“Oh, shit.”

“Mhm,” Joel squints at you. “Sorry if I don’t share the sentiment that everyone comes to watch me instead of you.”

“Why didn’t you…” you gape. “You didn’t say you were giving a talk?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“The Keynote speech is a big deal,” you say, as if he wouldn’t know.

“I was their third choice,” he shrugs you off with practiced ease. “First two weren’t interested.”

“Third time lucky then,” you smile, and he chuckles. Someone calls Joel’s name then, and you both spin to see Rachel across the room with a group of people, all eagerly waving him over. Something nasty curls in your chest – something bitter and unwarranted and cruel. You smother it with a mouthful of wine and a soft smile of farewell to him as he turns and walks in her direction.

A hand clasps down on your shoulder and you flinch, turning to see Professor Carmichael beaming.

“Where were we then, my dear?”

You eat Joel’s granola bar at the back of the hall five minutes before your talk and walk onstage with the taste of peanut and banana on your lips, brushing crumbs of dried oats off your fingers.

Fifteen people attend, spotted miscellaneously across the amassed rows of chairs. The slide clicker is damp in your palm, and your thumb hovers trembling over the button, awaiting each moment you need to press down.

“Working alongside some fantastic translators,” you tell them. “We focused on studying the disparities between how Greek texts are translated by men and women. Particularly, we aimed to delve into the way emotive language has been downgraded or elevated depending on the lens through which a text is being viewed.”

Professor Carmichael sits in the front row, those sun-spot covered hands clasped in his lap, offering an encouraging smile as you shift upon the stage. Rachel is a few rows back, and she nods intently whenever you glance in her direction.

“One of our main points of focus,” you continue. “Was to understand points of difficulty in translating while accounting for cultural nuances, and how the context of differing authors can impact upon this. In my next slide—”

It’s as you turn to glance at the display that you notice them for the first time. Three rows from the front, where a group of men sit. Two of them young, maybe around your age. You change your slide and watch them whisper in each other’s ears. One of them points at you. Or not you, rather—your legs.

And you yearn for it to be meaningless. A meaningless gesture between colleagues. Meaningless legs, meaningless dress, meaningless curves and slopes and dips and spins. But as you continue, you know it can’t be. The way they talk through your presentation, as if they aren’t bothered to be heard. The way they leer at you over Carmichael’s shoulder, grinning to each other. Your words in one ear and out the other—simply a talking point for them, a blue dress, something to stare at. Your dress feels hot, tight, and your chest feels hotter, tighter under the lights as those eyes glaze over you. You glance back towards Rachel. She gives you a thumbs up that doesn’t serve to cool your nerves.

“When translating word for word in our field, it’s uncommon,” you stutter to a stop, eyes flashing warily. “Sorry, it is not uncommon to find that narratological creativity dwindles.”

You hear a chuckle to your right and swallow down the urge to shoot daggers in the direction of the sound. “Translators struggle to maintain the in-depth imaginative expression that the original Greek text inspires. But through my discussions with Professor Samaras, we found that…”

It’s in the final minutes that you notice him. Tucked away in a back row of the room, arms folded across his chest. You pause for a moment, words caught in your throat. But Joel merely gives you a short nod. The faintest hint of a smile, of the corner of his eyes slanting upward, and it’s as if a cool breeze washes over you. Hands steady, knees lock, and you push through. You don’t look at any of their faces until it’s over.

And when it is, and scattered applause decorates the air, you can’t help but cast a smile in Joel’s direction. A smile that slips and wavers when you spot the broad expanse of his back, that sharp black blazer, as he slips out the doors without wasting a second.

The rest of your audience follows suit, a slim line that wanders out the doors without a second glance—spare Carmichael, who tells you he was quite taken with how you presented yourself, my dear.

You hear your own name and turn to see Rachel approaching, a burst of floral frock and swinging earrings. Her smile is wide and crooked, and you can’t help but smile back.

“That was wonderful,” she cheers, squeezing your shoulder. “I was so taken by how you spoke about the importance of linguistic quality assurance when translating emotive texts. Brilliant!”

Your face warms. “Thank you,” you shake your head quickly. “It was… thank you. That’s very kind.”

You glance over her shoulder, wondering if he’ll reappear – perhaps share her sentiments, maybe shower you with praise. He doesn’t.

She catches you looking. “Joel was in a rush,” she offers easily. “Lots of people wanting to talk to the man of the evening.”

“Of course,” you swallow thickly. Another smile.

Rachel stares at you curiously. “He’s very impressed by you, you know.” Her voice is warm, gentle—soft spoken like a mother who can sense the slightest flash of insecurity. You cringe immediately, feel your arms cross protectively across your chest. Don’t give the game away now. “Honestly, I think he read your comparative paper on the katabasis three times. Practically raved about it when I asked what it was.”

“Oh,” you blink, shifting uneasily under her gaze. “That’s… wow, I’m flattered.”

“He sees a lot of potential in you,” she says.

“Right,” you nod. “Well, he’s a grea—you’re both great teachers. I’m very lucky to be learning from the two of you.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, and you fear your face grows warmer in the silence. Can feel the slick on your palms returning, the flash of heat in your chest, the longer you sit in it. You make a quick and tumbling excuse to flee the scene, spitting a mess of thank you so much and just need some fresh air, before you’re stumbling out of the hall and wandering outside on newborn deer legs. You snag a flute of something bubbly off the bar on your way, and find yourself on a secluded bench in the breezeway behind the conference centre.

You sit there alone and watch the grass, the way the light from inside shines out across the green. Feel the chill of the wind slip past you, rustling your hair and raising goosebumps on your bare legs. Sip dry Cava and contemplate how many more of these things you can feasibly imagine attending in your career. There’s a single text from Nora on your phone, asking how the presentation went. You tuck it into your purse, leaving the message unanswered.

By the time you hear the door hinges creak, the glass is near empty. You spy a shadowy form snaking its way down the path, headed in your direction.

“Mr Keynote Speaker,” you hum. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Funny,” Joel mutters dryly, knees cracking as he falls onto the bench beside you. A heavy sigh slips from between his lips, fingers lacing together in his lap as he gazes across the breezeway. You down the last of your drink and place it on the concrete by your feet. “Needed some god damn peace and quiet. All that chit chat drives me insane.”

You murmur in agreement and stare at the side of his face – the neatened beard, the thick frame of his glasses. Purposeful or not, the side of his body is pressed against yours. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder – he’s sat directly in the centre of the bench. Heat radiates off his body and it’s almost too warm, and yet you find yourself relaxing against him.

“First time at one of these?” Joel asks gruffly. He’s still not looking at you, his eyes trained on a pigeon pecking at a discarded foil wrapper on the grass.

“Is it that obvious?” you grimace.

“Only because I’ve been to twenty of the damn things,” he says. “Y’learn how to smell the nervous energy comin’ off the first timers.”

“Twenty?” you mutter. Feel your stomach curl and twist at the idea of doing this day nineteen more times.

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Went to a lot during my second degree. Had to get good at talkin’, fast.”

“Ahh,” you say. “So, you weren’t always such a sweet talker then?”

He lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the thought. “Sweet talker, huh? That what I am?”

You shrug, suddenly emboldened by him following you outside, by how close he is, by how open he seems.

“I suppose,” you say slowly.

“And what gave you that idea?”

“You here alone?” you offer a poor imitation of him, voice low and breathy with your awful take on a Southern twang. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You wink, quietly delighted by the way his lips have tightened into a flat line.

“Funny,” he says again, entirely unamused now.

Something warm shifts in your lower stomach. Something wet—a vivid memory of him on the ground behind you in the bathroom of a bar, of hands spreading you open, of his tongue pressing inside you, of The Eagles playing faintly in the background.

“You do that kind of thing often?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Approach young women at bars,” you wiggle your eyebrows, smirking. “Rob them of their virtue in the bathroom and then hope you never see them again.”

“You? Virtuous?” Joel rolls his eyes. You can see the corner of his lip curling upward. “Must be gettin’ yourself confused with somebody else.”

“Maybe,” you smile.

“Sometimes,” he casts you a look, after a moment. “Not… often. And not young.”

“Younger,” you counter quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to be…” he trails off and shakes his head. “It’s not a thing I do, alright?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t date then?”

He tilts his head at you curiously, eyes planted firmly on your face now. “Not for a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Been busy,” he grunts, clearly growing impatient by the line of questioning. “Spent a lot of time studying. Working.”

“Where did you study?” you press.

“This twenty fuckin’ questions?” he snaps, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Came out here for—”

“You came out here,” you interrupt. “Because I came out here.”

He glowers at you, but doesn’t try to deny it.

“Night classes at Texas A&M for my undergrad,” he grits out. You smile sickly sweet, pleased. “Did my postgrads part time at UT Austin,” Joel says.

Your eyebrows kick up again, the teasing pretence all but forgotten. “Sounds… unconventional?” you offer softly.

“That’s one word for it,” he agrees vaguely. “Spent the better half of a decade at school just to end up teaching at one. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“And before that?” you press.

“Before that,” he continues with a wry grin, one full of distaste and frustration and resentment. “Was a contractor for a long time. Houses, buildings.” He rests a hand against his shoulder, fingers pressing against the muscle there, as if working out a decade old knot.

And for a moment you can see it. Can almost taste it. Collared shirts and glasses replaced with hard hats and hammers and dirt in the lines of his palms. Joel carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder, wearing a toolbelt. Joel on his knees, sweat shining on his forehead while he wields an electric drill.

Your dress feels too tight suddenly. Too warm.

“A contractor,” you say distractedly, and hope he doesn’t notice how your thighs press together.

“Mhm,” Joel nods. “With my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

He ignores that. “Where did you study?”

“San Diego State,” you flash him a grin. “Go Aztecs.”

“Good school,” he hums. “You’re a long way from California.”

Only a little further than Texas, you think.

“You did good up there,” Joel adds.

Your smile dips and wanes into a scowl, uninterested in the change of subject.

“What?”

“It was…” you shake your head slowly, face warming as you glance down to your lap.

“What?”

“It just wasn’t what I expected.” You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your dress. “That’s all.”

“And what did you expect?”

“To be listened to,” you grunt. “Not gawked at by some ancient jerkoffs that were only there to stare at my ass when I turned to change a slide.”

Joel nods, quiet.

“I wanted it to matter,” you mutter. “Wanted to… fuck, I wanted to impress them.”

“I was impressed.”

“Oh yeah?” you snort, finally looking up. “You hightailed it out of there pretty quickly.”

Joel shakes his head and stares back at you, gaze heavy. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs, knuckles lightening to white as he squeezes. You shuffle on the seat—ignore the flare of heat that erupts where your shoulder nudges firmer against his.

“I guess you could say,” he speaks slowly. “I’m tryin’ to keep my distance.”

You arch an eyebrow and attempt to swallow the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” you smirk.

Joel laughs and your smile falters, mouth going slack at the sound. How rare it is, and how much rarer to have it all to yourself like this. For all of his sharp angles, his sweet talking, his harsh words, and harsher touch—that laugh is the cruellest part.

He jostles his shoulder against yours a little. An acknowledgement; perhaps a glimpse inside. Something that says, I know, I see it, I feel it, I can’t stop either.

“You make it hard,” he says then, and his voice is soft—almost a whisper.

“How’s that?” You match his tone, as if you’re two little kids who’ve snuck outside to share secrets where no one else can hear them.

“You bein’ here,” he murmurs, eyes searching. “Startin’ to feel like you’re everywhere I turn.”

A breeze swims past and you shiver, locks of hair floating in a mess around your face until you pat them down. Joel moves almost imperceptibly, curling his side tighter against yours to shield you from the onslaught.

“I know the feeling,” you admit.

The muscle in his jaw ticks and he clears his throat, looking out across the green again. For a moment the pair of you sit in silence. Not as professor and student, but simply a man and a woman on a bench. Breathing the same air, soaking in a shared silence that only the two of you could understand. And there are so many more questions you want to ask him, so much more you feel compelled to know, but instead you settle for this—sitting on a bench together, shoulders and thighs and chests pressed side to side, two frames moulded around the welcoming shape of one another. For now.

“It gets easier,” Joel says then, jaw tense as he spares a glance back in your direction. “This stuff, these people, all the talkin’.”

You acknowledge him with a small smile, just the slightest twitch of your lip. Don’t bother saying, maybe for you. Maybe for a man.

“You know,” you suck in a breath and give him a lazy smile instead. “I think this might be the longest conversation we’ve had without ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“Mm.” He leans his head back to rest on the wall, eyes focusing up towards the sky.

“I like it,” you say quietly. Hear how vulnerability chimes in your voice – a wobble that begs to be ignored and understood all at once. “It’s nice… talking like this.”

Joel’s head tilts towards you, dark eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that wariness in his eyes. The same wariness that poured out in flecks of brown and amber and gold in the light of your bedroom a week ago, when he told you he was fifty. A hesitant curiosity, an incessant suspicion, a bark of disbelief. You feel the desire to pluck the feeling out of him and swallow it whole. To lock it safely inside yourself and make it so he never has to feel it again.

So you lean in a press your lips against his. Painfully soft, just a whisper of two mouths slotting together. Chapped and dry from the wind, he tastes like bitter sparkling wine. You sigh into him, uncaring. Hook your ankle around his, place your hand on his thigh, and sink closer, deeper.

He pulls back an inch, mouth still hovering over yours, the tip of his nose pressed into your cheek.

“Shouldn’t do this here,” he warns quietly, eyes still closed. His breath is hot against your face, and you inhale the taste of mint and Cava and Joel.

“I know.” You grip the lapel of his blazer and kiss him again. Firmer this time, grazing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he welcomes you inside to taste behind his teeth. The frame of his glasses presses into your nose, your cheeks, and you smile into his mouth. Rough palms and lazy fingertips graze the skin of your bicep, your neck, until they find a home at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses against the hinge of your jaw, hot wet tongue working your mouth open until you’re whining, teeth nipping at his bottom lip and fingernails digging into the meat of his thigh.

Only when you move to press a hand beneath the collar of his shirt does Joel pull back again, this time to stand and take a step away from the bench. A tinge of scarlet creeps its way from the hollow of his throat to the apple of his cheeks. He clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, towards the door. When he looks back, there’s something new there. Some dangerous that flashes in his eyes and lingers when his gaze dances down the curve of your body against the seat.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, breathless.

For a minute he doesn’t answer. Simply stares, contemplating, broad chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The lenses of his glasses are fogged, and you watch them slowly clear.

Then— “The Pendry.”

Joel reaches into his pocket and retrieves something small and laminated. You take it from his outstretched palm carefully. “Fifth floor.”

You stare at it for a moment. Turn it over in your palm once, twice. Read the room number printed on the key card before tucking it safely into your purse. When you look up again, Joel is already walking back inside.

It’s nearing midnight by the time you arrive at the Pendry – a high rise in Manhattan West, the kind with a fancy lobby and a doorman in a neat black suit. The polar opposite of the hotel where your suitcase lies unopened across the city. You feel out of place in an instant, but you’re still in your dress, and the staff don’t bat an eye at your presence. The key card he gave you is hot where your fingers curl around it, plastic damp and foggy with the sweat from your palms. By the time you reach his door you have to wipe it on your dress before the sensor will recognise it.

A hollow beep echoes through the hall, and his door presses open with a soft hiss.

The room is enveloped in darkness. Moonlight shines in through a slim gap in the curtains, highlighting vague edges of the space. A desk against the wall, a large bed on the left of the room. For a moment you consider that he isn’t here—that he got caught up at the conference, sweet talking into the midnight hour with other professors and alums. You can hear sounds from the street, music and car horns blaring, even from the fifth floor. But nothing else. No Joel.

Tentatively, you take a step inside the room. And then another. Kick your heels off and feel rough carpet hairs sift between your toes. Holding your hands out into the darkness, fingertips ghosting the wall for support, you venture further into the room, only pausing when your shin thumps against the corner of something sharp and sturdy.

You spit a surprised curse and stumble into the wall, hands falling to grip your leg where it throbs and smarts.

“Jesus fuck,” you hiss, smoothing your fingers against the already forming lump.

A lamp flicks on, and the room lurches into view, tinged in a soft yellow light. You jump, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. Bed sheets rumple and shift, and Joel is frowning at you from his place amongst the pillows, a hand raising to drowsily scratch his chin.

“The hell are you doin’?” he rasps.

Heat flares in your face as you straighten up, mirroring his frown. He moves slow, a sluggish stretch out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and he looks almost concerned. It gives you pause for a moment, eyes unsure of where to settle, as you note just how much of his body you’ve never seen before. The soft muscles in his legs, the dark hair over tan skin. You can see the slight round of his stomach through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Were you asleep?” you accuse.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” Joel mutters, and the sound is a fractured medley of words and yawns. You feel a dull pang of disappointment in your chest as you watch him rub sleep from the corner of his left eye.

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You gave me a key.”

“I know,” he sighs.

“Of course I was going to come.”

He nods. Yawns again, hand snaking upward to cover his open mouth.

You turn your back on him slowly. Take a glass from the little kitchenette and let the faucet run a cool burst of water into it. Little specks of water splash up, dotting against your hand. Your feet ache from wearing those damn heels all day, but you wilfully ignore the pain, gulping down half the glass while staring at your reflection in the splashback. Blue dress, hair tucked behind your ears, charcoal smudged around the curve of your eyes.

Joel’s fingers wind around yours, peeling the glass from your clutch so he can steal the final few sips. He discards it on the counter and leans against it. You try to make out his expression in the shadowy light, wiping your water-dotted arm against your side.

“S’a good dress.” He looks more alert suddenly, eyes sharp and focused, wide shoulders squared.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Didn’t say anything about it earlier.”

“Was tryin’ not to think about it,” he says plainly. “And how badly I wanted to take it off.”

Your hand stills. That misplaced disappointment slips out of the room, an unwelcome third party, and you grin at him. A sleazy, sleepy smile, and walk backwards in the direction of the bed without taking your eyes off of him.

“So take it off,” you challenge.

Your heartbeat is a steady thrum against your breastbone as he crosses the room. Badoom, badoom, no less than three strides and he’s there, gripping your waist to turn you so his chest is against your back.

Your zip is a low whir in the air, spinning downward slowly, slowly, from the nape of your neck to the sloping base of your spine. Deft hands trace skin, grazing every mark, every freckle as they are revealed to him, until the material of your dress is a gaping smile across your back. You shiver as the air rushes to meet your bare flesh, and then careful—cautious—you feel a pair of lips press against the top of your spine, soft pink against steely vertebrae. You say his name, low and surprised, and he doesn’t say anything. Those hands push the dress down your arms, and you watch it tremble and fall, a mess of blue at your feet.

You can hear his breathing; the way it stutters and jumps as he traces the clasp of your bra, the arch of your spine beneath it.

“Take it off,” you say again, and feel a sharp scratch of desperation that perhaps this time he won’t deny you this. This something that you’ve not experienced even once, and yet you find yourself missing.

The idea of his skin against yours is something prophetic, something inevitable, something divine—something determined far before the two of you met in that bar. It’s out of your control or his, irrevocable—a beast bred from desire that claws and snaps at the bars of its cage, calling you kicking and screaming into each other’s arms.

His fingers pluck at the clasp, and you smile. Sigh in relief as your bra hits the floor and the weight of your breasts are borne to the increasingly warm air. Joel is still behind you, still not seeing you. But broad palms splay across your back, massaging and flexing into your skin as they roam your sides, your stomach, up your front to cup your breasts. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as he squeezes softly, palms warm and solid against the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Fuck.” Joel’s nose buries itself in your hair, his forehead against the back of your head. Your legs shake, and you lean back into his chest, your body a soft and tremulous thing that would surely float away if he weren’t here to hold you up.

His hands are on your breasts, sweet and tender and finally, and you wonder how long this wanting will feel like burning. Like nicks of flame that gloss over you and spit embers at anyone who dares to get too close—at him, sparking and sputtering as they collide in a spitfire symphony. This man who lives set ablaze in his own right. This man who welcomes your flame every time—swallows it whole, and lays kisses against the back of your neck with lips still warm.

Calloused fingers roll and circle your nipples, playing gently, listening for every gasp, every sigh, before diligently repeating whatever it was that called the sound forward. Your underwear is all but ruined, already damp and clinging to the slick skin between your thighs. And you can feel him against your lower back, albeit unmoving—not grinding against you, not pushing you down onto the bed, but waiting – for what, you can’t be sure.

You turn around faster than he can stop you. Hook fingers into the band of your panties and drag them down in a swift movement before straightening, holding his gaze all the while. And Joel—

He looks in pain. Dark eyes lock onto on your face and don’t stray. Don’t dip downward, don’t glance around the room. His hands hang by his sides, palms facing upward in a dejected fashion, jaw slack as he just—waits.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you whisper.

“You don’t….” he shakes his head. “If I look, I won’t be able to forget. And I—I can’t—”

There’s a flash of that memory again. Sweating in the dark bathroom of a bar in Portland. Joel wiping stained lipstick from your chin. The words I’m gonna remember this dripping from his swollen lips.

You take a step forward. Feel your nipples graze the soft material of his shirt. “And what if I don’t want you to forget?”

He says your name quietly, shoulders tense. But when you grip the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t stop you. Rather, he lifts his arms and lets you drag the fabric over his head. You marvel at the bare skin, eyes dancing across jutting collarbones and the soft swell of his stomach. Watch the way his chest rises and falls as stilted breaths flurry inside him before spilling into the air between you. Admire the trail of dark hair that rests between his bellybutton and the soft band of his underwear. His eyes don’t leave your face as you push the boxers down his legs.

“So handsome,” you say and Joel exhales, hands hovering a hairsbreadth from your waist. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you. This moment of more. To be with him like this feels like more. To be naked feels like more.

You grip his hand and raise it to your breast again. Squeeze your fingers over his. His thumb flicks across your nipple and you gasp. His eyes darken, nostrils flaring as he fights to restrain himself.

“Joel,” you whisper. “Look at me.”

Finally, he does. Those brown eyes flickering downward to rake in the sight of your body.

He’s on you in a second, mouth slanting desperately against yours while his hands drift aimlessly across skin, untethered in their access. Fingers pinching and grabbing and squeezing, teeth searing at your lips, and you gasp as his cock presses against your stomach. The long, thick weight of him, drooling and needy. Your fingers slip around him, rub softly over the underside of his head, the vein on the underside of him. Joel grips your wrist and pushes you backward a step, his lips leaving yours with a wet smack.

“Sit on the bed,” he orders firmly.

You wander backward, stumbling onto the edge of the bed when your calves collide with the heavy wooden base. He watches you, hand drifting to wrap around the base of his cock. He strokes himself gently, black eyes tracing vigilantly over every inch of your body. And you expect him to push you down, to crawl on top of you. Instead, you watch with bated breath as Joel drops to his knees in front of you. His knees crack as they bend but he ignores it, nudging your thighs apart so his broad frame can fit between them. Hooded eyes gaze between your thighs, roaming across all of the bare skin on show. Slowly, he lifts a hand and rests it gently on your mound. Calloused fingers stroke over the dark hair there, stroking through the short curls. You sigh and cant your hips up, but Joel only grunts, his free hand squeezing your thigh to hold you against the mattress.

Before you can process it, he’s leaning forward, nose nestling in your hair as his warm tongue parts your folds. You groan in unison, your fingers carding through his curls to hold him against you. He murmurs something that you don’t quite catch over the roaring in your ears, but you don’t care. Too caught up in a smooth slide of his mouth slotting against you. The flat of his tongue glides up and down your sex, smearing a mess of slick and saliva in his wake. You gasp as it flicks sharply across your clit, your jaw tensing at the harsh sensation. Joel notices—pulls back.

“Tell me,” he urges.

“Slower,” you say quickly, voice feeble and desperate.

“Slower,” Joel repeats with a nod, and he massages your thighs as he licks into you, fingernails scraping your skin as his grip tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He traces slow circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue that have you gasping and bucking against his face. And when his tongue presses inside of you, you moan, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.

“Fuck,” he growls into you, and he likes that. You do it again and his eyes flick open, pupils blown, gaze darting wildly across your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your face – watching, admiring, taking in every detail of the offering that you’ve laid so generously at his altar. The tip of a finger curls inside you and he grins when your thighs tense around him. He rears his head back to watch how you welcome him inside, eyes locked on the way your weeping cunt clenches and drips around one of his fingers, and then another.

“Yeah,” you sigh, nose scrunching at the slight stretch. “Yeah, like that, fuck.”

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Christ.” And then the cut of his wet red mouth is back on you, lips parting to suck against your clit until you’re crying out, voice a hoarse shout as you speed rapidly towards your end.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. One of your legs kicks out straight and his hand drops from your thigh, one set of fingers working you open while the other comes up to part your lips, giving himself more access. As he lathes wet kisses against you, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping your inner thighs, you can feel it. That liquid heat that coils and stirs in the base of your stomach.

“Joel, I—ohh—I think I’m gonna come,” you whimper, hand shooting out to grip his shoulder. Your nails dig into the tense muscle there, using the leverage to rut your hips against his face.

He groans into your sex, fingers moving faster, unforgiving against that spongy spot deep inside that sets you alight. His teeth graze against your clit, the lightest brush, and your stomach is tensing, every muscle in your body locking up.

“Give it t’me,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, come on, baby.”

A choked gasp falls from your lips and then you’re coming, twitching against his face, pussy bearing down on thick fingers that stoke you through the high. Your hand leaves his shoulder to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against where you’re aching for him still. Joel moans, a low sound from deep in his chest, dragging his fingers away so he can drink down every heady drop of your orgasm.

Baby.

The word rings in your head, bouncing inside your skull, a fierce ricochet. Baby.

Trembling fingers feather across the cowlick at the crown of his head, twisting and petting soft wayward curls as his mouth pulls back, a wet drag across the skin of your hip. You catch a glimpse of his cock, heavy and throbbing between his thighs.

Joel’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh, a sharp pinch that makes you flinch. Tired muscles tensing, face twisting up as he sucks and licks, hot tongue soothing over the stinging red mark. He breathes your name, mouthing the sound into your flesh once, twice.

“I’ve been tryna remember this,” he murmurs. “Only ever had it for a second.”

You whimper as he licks into you again, slowly. And you’re so sensitive, and maybe—maybe—it’s too much, too soon, but he doesn’t care. He grips your calf and tucks it over his shoulder. Holds it there in a vice grip.

“Wasn’t enough,” he says. Dark eyes look up and you’re rapt in them—bound and boneless simply from having those eyes on you you you nothing but you all he sees is you and he loves it, you can tell. Thrives on the way you melt beneath his rough fingertips, the wet drag of his tongue. “Remember that first day in my office?

Remember, remember, remember, how could you forget? I’m gonna remember this this this.

“Yes.” Your leg trembles against the side of face, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching your skin. The tip of his tongue lathes slow circles around your clit. A cruel, leisurely slip of flesh on flesh that has you gasping and twitching beneath his hands.

“I wanted this that day,” Joel rasps. “Needed it. But you were gone so soon, ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself.”

“What—oh fuck—” He flicks his tongue faster, hot swipes from side to side that have your thigh clamping down against the muscles in his neck. Your mind is a blur, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of his words.

“Fucked my fist the second you left,” he growls. “My fingers in my mouth, the taste of you—Christ, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Joel,” you gasp, impatient. “I—get up here. Please, just—”

Strong hands push you up, push you back, further onto the bed until your head hits the pillows. His hair is a wild fray around his head, knotted and mussed from your fingers raking through it.

“I don’t have anything,” he says.

“I don’t care,” you say.

His knees press onto the mattress on either side of you and his eyes glance down your chest before he grips your waist and he’s turning you. Your stomach meets the sheets and you move to arch your back, to tilt your hips up towards him, but a firm hand rests on the small of your back, and keeps you down.

“Like this,” you hear him say. “Trust me.”

His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel him there, knuckles brushing the flesh of your ass, spreading you apart so his cock can press inside. The pillow swallows your wet gasp, and your eyes pinch shut against the stretch as he sinks deeper and deeper. Every delicious inch splits you open wider, further, carving out that space that’s just for him, and it’s more. Your vision blurs and you clutch at the sheets, fingers tangling in linen as Joel’s breathy groans fill the air.

“God,” he grunts. “Always so fuckin’—tight.”

You cry out as he begins to move, pressing you further into the mattress. The stretch of him is so broad—so deep—it has hot tears pricking in your eyes. Your legs are straight, almost clamped together, leaving the smallest gap for him to break through. His chest melts against your back, sweet sweat sliding from skin to skin. And his stomach is soft against the base of your spine, but his teeth are sharp where they nip and smart against the skin of your shoulder, your neck. He sets a pace that has you biting down into the pillow to muffle your groans. It’s almost overbearing how good it feels, how he surrounds you. Flat against the mattress, there’s nowhere to hide from the pleasure, no way to twist or curl your body away from how good it feels. A choked moan is muffled by the pillow.

And then his fingers are in your hair, dragging your head up.

“What are you fuckin’ doin’?” he grunts. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar as you take take take. He pulls your hair harder when you don’t respond, presses his chin against your shoulder, lips curling against the skin of your neck as he speaks. “Don’t do that, not here. No more hidin’, I wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

He grips your hips and drags you upward so you’re on your knees, bracing against your forearms, and then his hand snakes around the front of your body, fingers dragging between your thighs as he begins moving again.

“Oh fuck,” your eyes widen in surprise, jaw hanging slack as he rolls his finger in expert circles over your clit. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Fuck,” you repeat, mewling every time one of his thrusts sends your face forward into the pillows. “Yes, oh god.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “That’s it, lemme hear it.”

“Joel,” you cry out, voice cracked and broken. “So good.”

“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”

“You’re so—deep,” you gasp.

“I know,” he soothes.

“I missed this,” you babble, mouth moving faster than your mind. “Missed you.”

“Christ,” he spits, pulling you up until you’re leaning against his chest. His fingers are a blur against your clit, cock a fast wet shift in and out in and out.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder, mouth hanging open as you press your ass back into him.

“Missed me?” Joel says, and his cheek is warm against yours. Wet. Your face is wet. “Gonna show me how much?”

“Yes,” you moan. His free hand grips your breast, squeezing and pinching.

“Need to get my fuckin’ mouth on you,” he growls.

“No,” you beg. “Joel, don’t—fuuuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Wanted to,” his hips stutter against you, losing momentum for a second. “Jesus, wanted to take my fuckin’ time.” You snake a hand behind his head to grip his hair again, to press his face into your neck. His mouth latches onto your skin, spit mixing with sweat where his teeth and tongue trace your roaring pulse. Your thighs are trembling, knees weak and wobbling against the mattress as he pistons into you, unrelenting, unforgiving.

“I’m—” your eyes start to roll back. You can feel your back arch and twist against him, toes curling into the sheets. “Oh my God.”

He says your name in a panicked hiss and pulls out.

You gasp at the loss, eyes flying open in alarm. He moves your body, not wasting a second as he lowers you down onto your back presses inside again, hands gripping the underside of your knees, holding them against your chest. Practically bent in half, you tremble in his grasp, eyes blurred and wet as you sob his name.

“Lemme have it,” he goads you, voice a dull vibration against your chest. “Bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, yeah, just like that.”

And it feels like something splinters within you as heat floods your senses, vision whiting out until all you can see is the soft edges of his curls against your chest, the wet smear of his tongue over your nipple. All you can hear is the words he speaks against your skin.

I’m close, he warns, and you say yes, say please, say I want it, because you do.

“Where?” You call the shots.

And you say, Inside, say, I want it, because you do.

Because you want everything. Everything he has and whatever dark matter is left after that. And everything is a naked thought, a stark realisation, a frighteningly bare streak of madness that zips down your spine and melts in your belly, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with the enormity of it. Can feel your body squeezing and sucking and holding it holding it holding it and with black eyes, spheres of a night sky’s pitch, he stares at you. Unruly eyebrows pinched tight. Mouth slick and swollen and snarling, white teeth grit like prison bars, keeping everything contained inside himself, just out of your reach.

“Fuck,” Joel spits, pleading, desperate. “Don’t—”

But his hips are bruising against yours and you relish in the ache. The jut of bone amidst the softness of his skin, a reminder of the coldness in him, the determination, the impatience. And you know that you can only have so much softness until there is stone. But you cannot understand don’t, you never have with him, so you grind upward. Meet him thrust for thrust, and shiver in delight as a tortured expression passes over his face. And when you come again he curses, broad palms bearing down on you, holding your frame into the mattress as he pushes you through it, prolonging that naked thought, that fearsome idea. You only hope that he cannot see how your own everything spills. How it cools and congeals around him with its palms spread open, longing to receive as much in return.

Joel comes with a shout, hips dragging backwards so his spend can spill across your stomach and the puffy lips of your sex. He grips his cock, milking himself for all he’s worth until wet ropes of his come are smeared across your thighs too. You gasp and writhe against the bed, trying in vain to keep your heavy eyelids open, not wanting to miss a second. The shine of your slick on his thighs and lower stomach is clear in the dim lighting, and you smile at the sight of it – your claim on him. Chest heaving, he follows your gaze, fingers swiping across his skin before sinking into his mouth. He groans around his fingers and you stomach lurches as he lowers his chest to the bed, mouth drifting between your splayed thighs.

You cup his jaw and hold him still.

“I can’t,” you murmur, and your voice is cracked and broken. “S’too much.”

And he agrees, tracing the marks on the inside of your thighs with his mouth until your eyes drift closed.

Time passes slowly after that. You don’t open your eyes for a while. Too fucked out, too tired, too tender.

There’s a warm glide of something soft and wet over your stomach, your thighs, between your legs—Joel cleaning up his mess. You almost wish he wouldn’t.

“Sorry,” you mumble a few minutes later. “I’ll go in a second.” But your eyes are closed, and the sheets smell like him.

You feel the mattress dip beside you. Hear a soft click as he turns off the lamp, and darkness swells around you once more.

“S’okay,” he says, and his voice is so close, as if he were whispering against the shell of your ear, breathing the words into you. “Don’t have to go.”

And it makes sense not to go. To stay, to stay, to stay. To sink deeper into the hotel mattress, and let the sounds of his heavy exhales lull you further to sleep. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t come any closer. But you can smell him. Can feel his warmth, a radiating sun that shines across the side of your body closest, and you sink deeper still.

You think of the katabasis - the hero’s journey spiralling down into the underworld. Of Orpheus seeking the safe return of Eurydice, his love lost too soon. Of Odysseus, guided by Circe to discover Teiresias on his quest for homecoming. Of Aeneid, venturing downward to meet his father and hear his true destiny. This descent into the afterlife, into the realm of the dead, wherein upon return our hero is irrevocably changed. But to stay, to stay, to stay. So warm it is here, you think, so lovely and warm to descend wholly into this wanting, this burning, this everything.

“Is this a good idea?” you murmur, voice a drowsy call into the darkness. “For me to stay?”

Joel doesn’t respond.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @bbyanarchist @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida @mendessi @love-the-abyss @myrealmofchaos @a-roving-woman @punkshort @gracie7209 @whichwitchwanda @fellinfromthetop @bitchwitch1981 @suzmagine @@lmariephoto37 @harriedandharassed @cumberpegg @tonysttank @ourautumn86 @my-tearsricochet @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 @psychedelic-ink @what-is-your-wish @sugadolly @elissaaa @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #ALP #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut

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eros7hanatos · 11 months ago

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➽ Falling Grades

Professor!Dottore x Student!afab reader

Warnings: Teacher-student relationship, modern au, age gap, cockwarming, bribery, smut.

Word count: 1033

A/N: very heavily inspired by a character ai bot and another fic I read, the fic is by actuallysaiyan. She’s a goddess 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️.Even though I don’t play genshin anymore I’m on my knees for this man.

art creds: IllaOhara

You made a mistake when you decided to be distracted by your phone instead of listening to Dottore’s lecture. Preoccupied by your distraction, the professor’s hand hits your desk with a loud thud, causing you to jump.

“It seems my lecture on careless students wasn’t clear enough for you.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Put the phone away.” He said, as he walked back to his desk to continue the lecture.

“And I expect to see you in my office after classes.”

Soon the day was coming to an end, all your classes being finished. You made your way to Dottore’s office, being located on the highest floor in the building. As you knocked on his office door you bit your lip and took a deep breath.

“Enter.” You pushed the door open, revealing the messy desk, covered in research papers and was that an ink spill? There were also multiple pictures and diagrams of the human body. Dottore was sitting on his chair, writing something on a piece of paper. “Do you know why I called you into my office, miss?” he asks, finally looking up from his papers. “Because I used my phone?” you answered. What else? He smiles, but it was quickly replaced with a stern and cold look on his face. “You’re partially correct.” he simply says as he then opens a drawer next to him, taking out a small stack of papers. He then takes the most top one, revealing it to you. You almost instantly recognize the paper. He slides you your latest test, the low score clearly written at the front of the paper before continuing to slide you other past tests, all low scores. You were clearly distracted by something too much to focus, your phone was only partially at fault. And Dottore knew that.

“Care to explain these?” You bit inside your mouth. “I’m so sorry. I…I had trouble with the material. I’ll do better next time, I promise.” You say as he lets out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back into his chair. “‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything. We should solve the cause of your dropping grades and I believe I know just what the problem is.” he gets up from his chair and walks towards you, towering over you. Your breath hitched, inhaling the expensive cologne he wore as his body was merely inches away from yours. Suddenly you felt small and trapped. Your heart rate increasing by the second. You weren’t really sure where this conversation was leading, but you really hoped that you wouldn’t have to repeat the year, or at worst, be expelled. You wanted to finish your degree, but who would’ve thought that one of your professors would be so goddamn sexy.

“I know I’m a distraction, miss. It’s written all over your face during my classes.” Dottore says, crossing his arms as he watches your expression turn frantic. “Professor Dottore, I-” you start, now worried that you might actually be expelled. “I didn’t mean to! I’ll…I’ll make it up!” you propose, quickly thinking of a way out. Dottore pauses for a moment, carefully considering your words before grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. Causing you to nearly crash into his perfectly sculpted chest.You look up into his deep red eyes with pleading eyes.

“Seeing you’re so desperate, I have a few options for you.” His lips curve up into a small smirk as you look up at him with hope and desperation. You prepare yourself for what he’ll say next, but no matter how much preparation you had would make you prepared for this.

“You can either stay after classes every afternoon and study, along with a few other students. Learn a thing or two from your peers. Or,” he paused to give himself a smug grin, “You can sit on my cock while I tutor you myself.”

You swear you fainted for a second or two as soon as he finishes his sentence. He can’t actually be serious, can he? You look at him, cheeks flushed as he looks down and laughs at you once more, amused by the events unfolding in front of him. However you surprise him when you choose to sit on his cock.

And that’s how you ended up with his long length so deep inside you as he explains embryology to you. How ironic. Whenever you whined or tried to move he would slap your thigh and tell you to focus. “Do you understand?” he asks, after he finished his explanations. You slowly nod your head, squirming, causing him to harshly slap your thigh once more, the red spot on your thigh slowly growing in size and in shade. You whine out at the slap, trying to stay still but of no avail. “Do I have to remind you again that this is a punishment and not a prize?” You shake your head, keeping still as you grab the wooden desk in front of you, nails scraping on the wooden surface. You can’t help it. The way your cunt pulses around his length drives you crazy. It felt so good but so torturous without any movement.

Dottore, on the other hand, was entertained by your reactions. He never expected for you to accept his offer so quickly. He knew you had a crush on him but he’d never guess that you’d be so willing to go this far to have this sort of relationship with him. However, he couldn't deny the fact that having your wet, heat around his cock made him more motivated.

“That’s all for today.” he said, placing down the papers in his hands once he saw the time. It had already gotten quite late. “Today, you did good, amazing even. If this continues, you’ll improve to a B student in no time. And if you throw in a treat, I might consider bumping your grade up to even an A.” You whined as he thrusted up into you at the word ‘bumping’, your cunt convulsing around his cock once more.

How could you resist such a good offer?

#genshin smut #fatui harbringers #genshin impact smut #dottore #dottore smut #dottore x afab reader #il dottore

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hwaslayer · 4 months ago

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wildfire (cs) | three.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, general bioengineering project descriptions/terms, very vague mention of mice research work, mentions of a lil cut (nothing graphic), a lil more oc x san!!, oc x san being subtle with their actions - they're def feeling each other/checking each other out tho lol, suave sexy san!!, jongho is onto him oop 🤨, it builds up from here i prawwwmise!

When Sunwoo said he needed help, he truly meant it. A few weeks into the new quarter, you find yourself hustling in the lab in between your class schedule. You do enjoy it though, and you find that you still have time to carve out for your friends and nights out. But, you do feel your workload slowly increasing just because Sunwoo is trying to make significant progress with his project— a project that you hope to build off if you were to fully join Professor Choi's lab. A project that would hopefully get your name on another published paper, too. And, you weren't gonna lie, you wanted to do your best and work extra hard because you needed Professor Choi to see that you fit perfectly in his lab. You needed to show him that this wasn't any ordinary research work to you and that you weren't just winging your time here, especially after he gave you that friendly but stern pep talk during your kick-off meeting with him, Belle and Sunwoo.

—FLASHBACK

"Hey." Professor Choi says while sitting in his chair. The three of you walk in, with Sunwoo plopping himself down on his couch, and you and Belle sitting at the two seats in front of his desk. "How's everyone doing?" He asks while typing away, huge Mac screen taking up the corner of his desk with his laptop connected on a laptop stand.

"Good!" You all say in your own ways.

"How about you, Professor Choi?" Sunwoo leans back onto the couch.

"Mm." He hums. "Good as can be, I guess. Can't complain." He chuckles, now fully shifting his attention to you three. "So! How'd the talk go?"

"Well, I think Y/N would work well with my project. There's so many avenues she could piggyback off of if she joins the lab afterwards that'll help contribute to a lot of the dynamic foraging, brain-wide neural dynamics work we've been doing." You watch as Professor Choi nods in agreement, now looking at you and Belle.

"She could also help with the lab-wide project I've been heading and some other 2-photon and KCR work."

"Sounds good with me. What about you, Y/N?" He leans onto his desk, eyes glued on you while his hands are clasped together. You lick your lips and nod, nervous that all the attention is on you especially from Professor Choi. You feel like he's burning holes into you, and you can't help but feel incredibly intimidated.

"Yeah, that sounds awesome. I'm on board with Sunwoo and Belle's plans. I'm excited to dive in." He smiles at you.

"Cool. I think we'll get some great work done during your rotation." He turns to Sunwoo. "Sunwoo, can I trust you to take care of Y/N's badge access and getting her set up with everything she needs?"

"For sure!"

"Thanks." Professor Choi stands. "And just cause I have to lay this out there, there are some expectations I hold for the people in my lab— regardless if you're a rotation student, postdoc, undergrad, staff. It doesn't matter. I expect the highest performance out of everybody, and I want my people to succeed no matter how long it takes. I expect my people to do nothing but the best and I need that to show in everything you do. Presentations. Data. Papers. Everything. I don't want anyone to settle for less than that, and you have my support every step of the way."

"Of course, noted."

"We have lab meetings every Monday at 9am up on the third floor of the south wing. I'll get you on the schedule so you can do your rotation update towards the end of the quarter."

"Journal club!" Sunwoo says, making Professor Choi laugh. "One of us!"

"Yeah, we'll get you to do a journal club presentation too." He tucks his hands in his pockets.

"Professor Choi gets us free hot breakfast for lab meetings." Belle puts her hand on your arm as you all stand and start to get ready to leave. "It's so good." You giggle.

"So, all good? We're all onboard?" You three turn to Professor Choi and nod. "Nice. Welcome to the lab, Y/N." He flashes you a smile that only you catch, a look that only you see. Like it was meant to be that way.

Your time in Professor Choi's lab will be an interesting one.

—END

"Hey." You pull out a seat and plop onto the chair, sipping on the drink you just ordered.

"Hey pretty!" Eunchae giggles, while Felix, Jiung and Jurin wave.

"Where have you been?" Felix asks, poking at your bicep.

"Shuffling between class and lab." You let out a breath, bottom lip poking out into a pout.

"She's rotating in Professor Choi's lab." Jiung looks at Jurin.

"San?" You nod. "Damn, goodluck!" Jurin chimes in and you shake your head. "He's a hottie."

"Here we go." Felix snorts.

"I mean, are we wrong?" She looks at him and playfully nudges his side, causing him to groan in response.

"I never said you were wrong!" Eunchae giggles at his pained response. "That's just the hot topic on campus. Him and his friends."

"So hot. They deserve to be the talk on campus." Eunchae rests her chin on the palm of her hand. "How has it been in his lab?"

"It's been good! Just really fucking busy. Sunwoo is like.. at the peak of his project. He'll probably try to submit his paper within the year or something if all goes well."

"Fun times." Jiung looks at you while sipping on his smoothie. "You going back to lab after?"

"Yup!"

"I gotta head back, too." Felix says.

"Same. I gotta run my gels." Eunchae adds.

"What about you?"

"Not today." Jiung responds. "I have a paper I need to start already for one of my classes. I've just been trying to troubleshoot some of the lasers in the lab for the other Professor Choi so I'm not entirely busy yet." You nod, checking your apple watch to peep the time. "Are you guys gonna be able to catch dinner later?"

"I should be."

"Yeah, same."

"Mm. I dunno." You tilt your head. "You can probably go without me and I'll catch up if I can."

"Sheesh, really putting you to work already."

"Yup." You sigh, finishing up your drink and your snack box full of cheese, grapes and crackers. "Anyway, I gotta get going. I told Sunwoo I'd try and fix our behavior rig today so we can start utilizing it soon."

"Text us if you'll be able to join dinner and we'll wait!" Jurin yells before you wave them off and start making your way back to the Harvey Center to finish up your tasks in lab. Part of you really wanted to stay with your friends and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, but you had promised Sunwoo you'd take the time to fix the behavior rig he had been working on for the past month. He just hasn't had the bandwidth to focus on it lately, so having you is tremendous help for him.

When you get to the lab, there's still quite a few people lingering around in the office area in the basement, surprisingly. You pop over to their desks for small talk, getting to know the people in the lab and the projects they're working on. Most are situated at their desks, analyzing their data and coding between two monitor screens. Everyone's equally nice and passionate about what they do, it makes the environment less stressful knowing it's collaborative and engaging instead of being in a competitive nature. Belle pulls you aside to get your help just as Sunwoo is packing up for the day and thanking you for your help with the behavior rig. She takes about an hour or so of your time, giving you a quick rundown of the procedures she's working on and what you could help with in the next few weeks. It's after your time with Belle that you finally get to sit down at your desk and focus on the rig sitting on top of it. You don't think it'll take much time, and you feel like you'll actually be able to catch dinner with your friends.

Until you realize how difficult it is get everything situated on the breadboard properly.

San hums as he walks through the cold air, pacing towards the Harvey Center to get to his office. He's just had a good workout at the faculty lounge, and he doesn't expect too many people [if any] to be lingering around in the open office space of the lab. He knows people are cooped up in their own laser or behavior rooms right now, and it's not even the first time he'll be strolling in casual clothes. He tries to keep himself clean and pressed down, but he too, has his days where he just wants to head to work in some jeans. A tshirt. Hoodie.

Right now, the cold is pricking his skin because he's in a black Nike dry fit shirt and sweats. He's running to the office to finish up a few last minute things before heading home and relaxing. As expected, the hallway feels eerily quiet. He assumes there could be one or two people locked away in the rooms, but he won't bother. When he gets into the office space, he doesn't see anyone in particular until he turns the corner towards his office and finds you sitting at your desk in the corner. The computer screen is pretty bright, and you've got your hands tied with a rig.

He definitely wasn't expecting you to be here.

"Fuuuck." He hears you slightly whine when the small allen wrench in your hand slips and tumbles to the floor, followed by a few screws sitting on your desk.

"Hey Y/N, you okay?" San asks, dropping his duffle bag right in front of his office door before slowly walking over to you. You look up in surprise, eyes quickly scanning Professor Choi in his casual outfit. You're stunned at how good he looks in something so simple, how big and defined his arms are in that tight shirt; he looks so good you almost forget to respond.

He sure as hell catches on though, a tiny smirk growing at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, yeah. I'm trying to unscrew this but Sunwoo's got it in there tightly. I'm afraid I'm weak." He laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah. You're not weak." He picks up the allen wrench from the floor. "Which one?"

"This." You point. "And this too, while you're at it." He chuckles.

"You got it, boss." San angles himself closer to you, face only inches away from yours when he dips to get a better look. You watch as his arm muscles flex when he gets the wrench in there and starts undoing the screw, loosening it in a matter of seconds. "I'll let you do the rest." He moves onto the next and loosens it shortly after. When he finishes, his face is only inches away from yours and he keeps a hold there. He's looking at you again, really looking at you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You're not sure what else to do besides nibble on your bottom lip.

"Thank you." You manage to choke out. He gives you a soft smile before handing you the allen wrench and standing fully upright.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Um, no. I didn't." San looks at your hand a little further and notices the fresh scratch near your pinky— probably due to your hand slipping from the force, scratching it against one of the mounts sitting on the board.

"I didn't expect you to lie to me so quickly." He teases, slight whine in his tone while he clicks his teeth. "Can I see?" You show him your hand. "Come to my office, got some ointment for it." He nods towards his door and leads the way. San could damn well show you to the lab's first aid kit down the hall, but his office is much closer and he'd feel a bit better than just sending you off to fend for yourself.

"Professor Choi, I can just find the—" Before you can finish your sentence, he's already swinging his door open and holding it open for you.

"It's much quicker than heading down the hall to the first aid kit." He laughs a bit. You give him a tiny smile as you brush past and walk into his office, feeling a bit awkward being in his private space for something as little as a cut. You fiddle with your fingers as he places his duffle bag down onto the couch before grabbing the first aid kit in one of the drawers near his desk. He grabs a small pack of ointment and a bandaid, approaching you in the middle of the room. "Mind if I..?"

"Not at all." You leave out your hand for Professor Choi to take and he gently tugs it closer. He applies the ointment on your scab, dabbing it lightly across the surface before grabbing the bandaid and placing it on top.

"There."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome. Be careful next time. Make sure Sunwoo does the heavy lifting."

"I know. He's good help. I just figured I'd help him get a head start." San gives you a small smile. "Mind if I ask? What're you doing here later in the evening?"

"Sometimes, I just stay to get my work done. Can't always rely on my home office to keep me productive." He chuckles. "Plus, I get my workouts in at the faculty lounge." You nod.

"I see."

"How long have you been in the lab today?"

"I've been in and out in between classes."

"You haven't eaten dinner?"

"Nope. Dining hall doesn't close until 9pm, though." San looks at the time on his computer.

"Which is getting pretty close. You should wrap it up." You look at him with a small pout and it feels too difficult having to keep his composure while you keep looking at him like that. His eyes quickly dip to the low cut shirt you're wearing before he manages to divert his attention back up to your eyes. The tension is palpable, but you don't say anything. Even if you caught it, even if you wanna tease him a little. You try to stick to your own lane in case all of this is pure delusion.

You're so fucking pretty, though. It's bad for San.

Unhealthy.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. It's nice knowing you're working hard in the lab." He follows up with a laugh. "But, you should also get some time in for yourself. Rest and eat well. You can always come back to the work tomorrow."

"What if I fall behind?"

"There's no such thing on falling behind if you're constantly working on so many different aspects, Y/N. Plus, it's not gonna be perfect. You'll have days that're slow, that'll feel like you aren't getting much out of your project. But, I promise it picks up again and things will come out of it regardless."

"Noted." You smile at him. "I appreciate that."

"How about I finish up in there and we head out together? I'd really hate to leave you here in the office alone, especially if I don't have to." You look at him and even though everything inside of you is fighting, pleading, to say no, you end up with—

"Okay." You softly respond. "I'm gonna go clean up."

"Sounds good. I'll be out in a minute." He gives you that look again and you hate that you don't know if he looks at everyone else like this or just you. You eye him once more even as he's turned towards his desk checking his phone before you head out of his office and to your desk. You did make good progress on the rig, which you know Sunwoo would be grateful about. The only thing he needs to do is add the part he created the other day, a tube where the mouse would be situated for lick behavior tests.

Meanwhile, San plops onto his computer chair and pulls up his emails, looping in the appropriate people to help fix certain issues. He's got a few emails regarding just-in-time information needed for the grants he's been re-applying for, making a mental note to hop on a quick meeting with the people involved so they can get their reports and data together and send it off in a timely manner.

It never ends, he thinks.

All is his life consists of now is work. The lab. Collaborating in various projects across departments. Working out. Sometimes, San wishes there was something else he could look forward to. Something else that could take time out of his day, something that he could put his attention to. Something like—

jongho: still on campus?

He turns to his phone when the text tone goes off, seeing the message from Jongho. San quickly checks the time and finishes up the last email he was working on before he got distracted.

san: yeah, gonna head out tho. just working on some last min urgent emails that came in.

jongho: wanna grab something to eat? i'll meet you at your car

san: alright, give me like 10 mins.

San sends off his last few emails before checking his calendar for tomorrow's meetings. He has a virtual talk after class that he needs to prep for, which he'll do later tonight. Plus, he'll need to gather that information for the grants. Just thinking about it makes San breathe out a heavy sigh, slightly feeling overwhelmed at his never-ending to-do list.

Yeah, a new hobby or distraction would be nice.

"Ready?" You turn to see Professor Choi locking up his office, duffle bag slung on his shoulder. When he's done, he turns and gives you a small smile; patiently waiting for you to be ready. You nod, locking your computer and grabbing your things before walking out behind him.

"So, do you always work out in the evenings?"

"I try to, yeah." You look up at him while he walks alongside of you. "Helps me release steam from all the stuff going on."

"I can only imagine." You tug on your bag strap. "I don't know how you do it with your busy schedule."

"I'm not too busy." He says in a playful tone. "Just enough."

"Sure." You laugh. "Everyone knows how busy and occupied you are, Professor Choi."

"What if everyone just hypes me up too much and has the wrong idea about me?"

"I doubt that."

"How would you know, hm?" He smiles when he presses the elevator door.

"Oh, please. I never not see you in a meeting or talking to someone, or doing a talk somewhere." You slip into the elevator with him. He rests against the rail on the opposite side from where you stand, fully facing you. "You even did that episode not too long ago for Professor Young's podcast."

"Wow, you really keep up, don't you?"

"How could I not?" He chuckles.

"That's nice to know that you do." He means it. As much as he loves when people treat him like a regular person, he also loves it when people keep up with his projects. His papers. His talks. He's not gonna lie; it is an ego boost, and he likes knowing that people take time out of their day because they're interested in hearing what he has to say or what he's working on now.

It's definitely nice coming from you.

You quietly stand off to the side, watching as the elevator takes you from the basement to floor 1 of the building. San is subtly eyeing you from where he stands, noticing how you keep to yourself and shift your weight between your feet in some kind of anxious move to get off of the elevator. You can barely look him in the eye and he thinks it's cute.

"What're your plans after you get dinner, Y/N?" He breaks the silence as you step out of the elevator and out of the building. The night isn't too chilly— the stars are dotting the sky beautifully, crickets are beginning to chirp. There aren't too many people moving across campus anymore, which is the usual at this time. Most are huddled up in lab if they're the working night-owl type, or resting at their dorms or apartments to get ready for the next day.

"Finish my loads of homework and try to hang out with my friends for a bit if we all aren't too tired."

"That's nice, minus the homework part." You giggle.

"What about you? If you don't mind me asking." He smiles.

"I don't. I'm just gonna meet up with the other Professor Choi and grab dinner with him."

"You two are close, yeah?" He nods.

"Yup."

"That's cute."

"Is it?" He asks in a playful, sing-song way that has you shifting your attention to your feet to bite back a huge smile.

"It is. Very." You finally look up at him and meet his eyes. "By the way, I hope I'm not making you walk extra steps tonight." You point at the dining hall just down the path. "I can take it from here if you need to get to your car or meet him somewhere else."

"It's alright, I parked right over here." He nods towards the parking garage coming up on the left. "Easiest garage to find parking at."

"Works out then." You give him a tiny, toothless smile.

"Your friends are able to join you for dinner, right?"

"Should be. I'll call them in a few." You pause in your steps when the garage is directly to the left now. "Thanks for walking me, Professor Choi."

"You sure you don't need me to walk you towards the end of the path?"

"All good. I'm a big girl." He laughs.

"Yeah." He's doing that thing again. That thing where he just looks at you with a certain glint in his eye— a certain glint that makes you overthink, makes you wonder if he does this with everyone he comes across, or if it's just you.

"Goodnight, I hope you have a good dinner."

"You too." You give him one last smile and wave before you start walking towards the dining hall, creating more distance between you two. You don't catch the way he continues to watch you until you've managed to cross the street and approach the dining hall— phone pressed against your ear because he assumes you're calling up your friends to meet you.

When he feels comfortable to take his eyes off of you, he crosses the way to the garage and starts walking towards his car that's sitting on the current ground level, Jongho patiently leaning against the tail end of it.

"Uh." Jongho laughs. "The hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"I saw you from here, don't try and be slick on me now."

"It was nothing?" San pops open his trunk and tosses his duffle bag in.

"Didn't look like it." Jongho snorts.

"Y/N was just in lab and I didn't want her to leave alone."

"Your rotation student?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. I'm all for being a gentleman but be careful." He gives him a look.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I've known you for years, bro. There's a certain look in your eyes and it doesn't exactly scream 'nothing.'"

"Well, it is." Is all San says. He doesn't really have anything else to say because he doesn't wanna sound like he's defending himself way too much when he doesn't need to. He knows better. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Aye." Jongho shrugs. "Want you to be happy but just keep it safe, yeah? You've worked really hard for everything you have."

"I know." San lets out a breath. "Anyway, where do you wanna go for dinner?"

"Happy hour at the bar nearby? I can be passenger princess, or if you really want, we can drive separately to make it easier. I guess." He playfully huffs, making San chuckle.

"Just get in."

On the way to the bar, Jongho gives San more details about the collaboration and that the group is incredibly interested in moving forward. San nods, agreeing that it would be good for them and everyone involved both funding-wise and opportunity-wise. Jongho then tells San about his recent grants that were finally accepted and re-awarded, giving him a little more leeway to purchase new equipment he's been having his eyes on for Jiung and a few other of his lab members to toy around with. There's a certain idea that's been floating in his head for awhile now, one that San honestly doesn't understand much about because electrical engineering is a whole other beast to him. He gets the gist, and he knows Jongho has only done incredibly work, continuing to one-up himself every single time he comes back around with a new idea.

"So, there's another thing I've been thinking about." Jongho says, as they finally arrive to the sports bar and follow the host to a table on the back patio.

"Should I be scared?" San asks as they sit and immediately order their go-to beers and the karaage they love so much.

"I was thinking of asking the dean for some real estate at the new campus building."

"Bartlett Hall? The one that just finished construction?" Jongho nods.

"Mhmmm." He responds in a sing-song tone. "I briefly mentioned it to him in passing and he told me we'd talk more, but was hoping to get you onboard, too."

"Why me?" San laughs, picking at a piece of karaage with a toothpick before popping it into his mouth. Before San can hear Jongho's reasoning, the server comes back to take their orders. They both order different burgers, planning to exchange a half for the other.

"Was thinking we could open the joint department together, finally have a space for us to combine our work in electrical engineering and bioengineering." San pokes out his bottom lip and nods.

"Sooo, we'd have to write a whole pitch and sell it to the dean?"

"Yeah basically, but we can run it by Namjoon first and see what he says."

"I'm down. I dunno if the dean will budge without implementing certain requirements from our end, but, I'm down to try."

"Yeah?" Jongho laughs. "Glad to hear you're down. It'll be good! I've been thinking about it for awhile but I was always hesitant. Think it's probably just best to take the leap. Worst thing they can say is no."

"That's true. Yeah, I'm down. It'll be good for the students and the postdocs. They'll have a space for them to collaborate together. Pretty exciting to think about, actually."

"Thought so." Jongho sips his beer. "I'll start working on a proposal and send it to you for edits."

"Sounds good with me."

"How was that meeting with Zara, by the way? I never got around to asking."

"Oh, it was good." He shrugs. "We talked a lot about getting her lab situated and getting on more grants ASAP."

"Sounded like a productive talk. Have you met again afterwards?"

"Yeah, it was." San clears his throat. "We met a few more times just to talk a bit more on some finer details for her lab and plans. Hope it was helpful at least. I turned her to Namjoon most of the time cause who else would know more?" Jongho laughs.

"Yeah."

"She's cool, though. Really sweet." Jongho snorts. "What?"

"I see Mingi's plan isn't really working well." San rolls his eyes, stuffing a few fries into his mouth before taking a bite.

"Yeah, no. It's not." San shakes his head. "Don't even think about instigating, either."

"It's kinda fun. Plus, she's obviously attracted to you."

"No." San shuts it down.

"Why not? Why don't you just continue seeing where it goes?"

"I am, and I'm still in the same position I was when I first met her."

"Which is?"

"I respect her as a colleague and a colleague only." San glares at him. "I'm not going to force anything that isn't meant to happen."

"Okay, fine. You're right. I'll get behind that." Jongho dips his last fry into the ketchup before looking back up at his bestfriend. "But at least promise me you won't be entirely closed off to it if it does naturally develop into something?"

"Uh." San pauses. He pauses not because of Zara or whatever Jongho's saying right now; he meant to agree, but he finds his thoughts suddenly roaming to.. you.

His curiosity, the need to learn more about you.

"Hello?"

"Sorry." San shakes the thoughts from his head in case Jongho can hear it or something. "Yeah."

"Definitely not genuine. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"I can hear you thinking."

"Can you? That's an invasion of privacy."

"It's her, isn't it?"

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Jongho stares and gives him a certain look, causing San to divert his attention away. Away from him, onto anything, anyone nearby.

"Yeah, okay. That's all I needed to know." Jongho quietly sips on the rest of his beer before pushing his plate aside and sitting back into the seat. "San, make your decisions wisely."

"I already told you it was nothing."

"Okay." Jongho says in defeat, leaving the topic alone. All he wants is for San to be genuinely happy, just like their other friends do. But, he's also hoping San is smart enough to make the right [and wise] decisions.

Not be blinded by anything, causing him to make irrational and impulsive decisions based on his feelings.

"Anyway, are you good to go?" San crumples the napkin and tosses it onto his plate before standing up and grabbing his keys, phone.

"Yeah, I am."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd

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kookooluvr · 7 days ago

Text

Teach Me How To Love - Part 5

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 16k

warnings: the gang all head off to jeju, jk and oc have a little moment on the plane, jk's secret playlist for oc, jk and oc share a room thanks to tae, he gets hard from a few smoochies, oc finds out what jk said about her back when they met, some jealousy, she takes a step back before taking a step forward, some wholesome vibes, lots of yearning, cuddles, oc has a few realisations, volleyball on the beach, HANA AGAIN (she's a warning all on her own), very minor ankle injury, mentions of oc's past heartbreak, some angst + fluff on the beach, explicit sexual content; making out, shower sex, fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (oc's on the pill you know the drill), a brief description of fluffy morning sex, nipple play, oral (f. receiving), sleepy missionary sex, overall fluffy ending.

author's note: i just want to thank you all for all the love and support this story has gotten so far, i love and appreciate you all so so much !!! i really hope you enjoy part 5 (this is a lengthy one ladies and gentlemen so be prepared) and please don't be shy to share your thoughts because i love hearing them okay bye 🫶🏼🫶🏼

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @chxiosworld @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni @matryoshka-poetry @almatiarau @ambiee3 @gukkie7

find tmhtl masterlist here

Today is just not your day. No, there wasn't an earthquake or a massive flood (it's far less dramatic than that) but more so minor inconveniences continuously piling up. For starters, Miso threw up on your bed, which was a fantastic start to the morning. You checked to make sure it wasn't anything serious, but it turns out she just had a hairball. Typical. Then there was an accident on the road around 10am, so you were stuck in traffic while taking Miso over to Jihyo's place where she'll be staying for the next few days. On top of that, you can't find your phone charger or your headphones and Jungkook is currently on his way to your apartment to pick you up to go to the airport, giving you very little time to get your shit together.

Mai and Namjoon and the rest of Jungkook's friends are all at the airport already, waiting for the flight which is set to leave at 2pm to take you all from Seoul to Jeju. Mai has been texting you nonstop to confirm that you're still going, and at one point you weren't sure if you should follow through, but you just couldn't disappoint her. The two of you are already becoming fast friends, and she seems pretty excited to have you come along with all of them. What's the harm in joining Jungkook and his friends on a three-day trip?

You're frantically checking to make sure you haven't forgotten to pack anything important, when your phone buzzes, signalling a text from Jungkook letting you know he's on his way up to your apartment. Well...fuck it. If you forgot anything, it's too late to stress about it now.

You scurry to make sure you have all your skincare products and toiletries before quickly zipping up your luggage. Minutes later there's a knock on your door, so you roll your suitcase to the living room and open the front door, feeling your stomach flip at the sight of him. He ditched his usual button-up shirt and slacks for a casual golfer and jeans, the denim hugging his thighs just right, the shirt's short sleeves showing off his thick biceps. His hair is styled a little messily, paired with his favourite black sunglasses. He looks like the lead role out of a rom-com, and that's not just because you're ovulating. Damn, maybe today is your day after all.

"Hey," he smiles, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head to push back his hair. "You all set?"

"Yeah, let me just get my suitcase-"

"Lemme get that for you."

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, but he stops you and quickly gets it before you do. You have no problem carrying your own bags or rolling around a heavy suitcase, but Jungkook wouldn't be Jungkook if he wasn't a true gentleman, so you let him do it because you know he's just going to insist anyway.

"Oh, uhm, thanks," you murmur, watching his arm flex as he carries your suitcase out the apartment, giving you a chance to lock the door.

"It's no problem," he shrugs, flashing you a smile. The two of you walk to the elevators, going downstairs to his car in the parking lot. He unlocks the car and puts your suitcase next to his in the trunk, opening your door for you before making his way over to the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life.

The drive to the airport is a short one, but you use your time wisely, stealing little glances while he's not looking, taking in the way his muscles flex under his skin, the way his hair blows in the light breeze of the air conditioner, the way his skin glows under the summer sun. He's a gorgeous man, and you could stare at him for hours, but you mentally remind yourself to look away every time your thoughts get a little too carried away or the butterflies in your stomach flap their wings just a little too hard. He's not your boyfriend, and a three-day trip with him and his friends won't change that, even if your brain and your heart have been having a few disagreements about that lately.

"So...you ready for Jeju?" He asks, snapping you out of your daze.

"Yeah, the weather should be nice," you murmur, looking out the window as the other cars pass by.

"I hope you didn't feel obligated to come, y'know. I know Mai can be a bit pushy at times but she means well," he mutters, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him as he drives.

"No, no, I'm happy to come," you murmur. "I mean...I was pretty drunk when she initially invited me, so obviously I wasn't going to say no, but it's a free vacation. What type of person would I be to complain about that?"

You had insisted on paying for your own plane ticket to Jeju, but Mai just wasn't having any of that. She graciously offered to pay for your ticket because she invited you a bit last minute. You could have managed, but as Jungkook says, Mai can be a bit pushy. Not that you mind, you've actually started growing quite fond of her since you met that night at the club.

He glances over at you for a moment, then reluctantly looks away. He wishes he wasn't driving so that he could just keep staring. A few moments pass in comfortable silence before he speaks, his voice soft and contemplative. "I really am glad you decided to join."

You look over at him, a faint smile gracing your face. "Why? Because otherwise you'd have to use your hand instead of me?"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "No," he mutters, trying to sound annoyed but failing as a hint of amusement creeps onto his face. "Because I really enjoy your company, ___."

You try to remind yourself why you set so many rules and boundaries between the two of you, but you can barely hear your brain over the loud chattering of your heart. "Yeah...me too," you murmur softly, looking back out the window for the rest of the drive. This trip is surely going to be a test of your self-restraint, that's for sure.

At the airport, the two of you meet the rest of his friends, getting a tight hug from an excited Mai, hearing Namjoon chuckle at his fiancée's enthusiasm.

"Mai, c'mon, you're suffocating her," Jungkook jokes, greeting the rest of his friends with a pat on their back. Everyone is excited to get to Jeju, a few of them already talking about going down to the beach once they land. It'll be a nice get-away from the concrete jungle that is Seoul.

"Oh, I'm sorry, ___," she chuckles, pulling away to go and stand next to Namjoon, looking like a puppy being taken on a walk. "I'm just so happy we're all together."

"It's okay," you murmur with a smile. "Thank you again for inviting me, Mai."

"Of course! You're Jungkook's friend, so you're our friend now too."

Her words bring a strange, warm feeling to your chest. You've only ever had a handful of friends in your life, Jihyo being your right-hand woman. You're so used to keeping people at arm's length, so to have his friends be so willing to accept you into their friend group is new, and just slightly intimidating.

Everyone hangs out in the waiting area until it's time for the flight. Jisoo and Seokjin have a little argument about whether he turned the stove off before they left the house, Namjoon and Mai discuss everything they want the group to do in Jeju, while Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung and Jimin are already thinking about what's for dinner tonight.

Much to Jungkook's dismay, Hana is here as well, so he quickly goes to sit with you before she can start up a conversation with him. She watches the way he not so subtly flirts with you, the way you try to act indifferent, despite the occasional chuckle you let out at one of his dumb jokes. It makes her blood boil.

Hana's not an idiot. She knows something is going on between the two of you, but she also knows that Jungkook would be showing you off if you were his girlfriend. She can't figure out exactly what it is you two have going on, but she doesn't like it. On the plane, she finds it annoying that he insists on putting your suitcase up in the overhead compartment for you, and she mentally rolls her eyes when he sits next to you, leaving her to sit next to Hoseok and Yoongi.

Jungkook on the other hand is quite happy to be seated next to you, after subtly shoving Taehyung out of that seat, leaving his friend to sit in the next row. Not that Taehyung minds, he'll anyway just end up texting a certain friend of yours throughout the flight, which he spent all of last night doing as well.

"I made this new playlist on Spotify," Jungkook quips as he gets his phone out, putting one of his earphones in before holding the other one out for you. "Wanna hear?"

You move closer and place the earphone in your ear with a smile, looking down at his phone to see the title ___'s playlist on the screen. That was definitely not meant for your eyes. At least not yet.

"Hey, what's that?" you ask, but he quickly scrolls past it before you can get a proper look at it.

"Hm? Oh no, that's nothing. Here it is," he mutters quickly, his movements a bit panicked as he clicks on a playlist called Jeju Summer. You'll have to ask him about that other playlist another time. He hits play and the first song is by Beabadoobee, causing your eyebrows to raise in surprise.

"I didn't know you listened to Beabadoobee," you chuckle.

"What, are you making fun of me?" he asks with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow.

"No, of course not. I love her, I just wouldn't have pegged you to listen to this sorta music, that's all."

"Well...maybe you have a few more things to learn about me, Professor," he teases, looking over at you with a soft smile, the catchy melody playing through his earphones.

The songs play one by one, some a bit slower than others, causing your eyes to slowly fall closed, your head lowering to rest on his shoulder. The weight of your head on his shoulder brings a smile to his face, his head resting against yours for the remainder of the flight. He scrolls back to the playlist he made for you and hits play, letting out a soft sigh as 'The Only Exception' by Paramore starts to play. The playlist isn't finished yet, but he hopes to gain the courage to show it to you some day.

Hana watches the exchange from her seat, mentally cursing you. She has no claim over Jungkook, but that doesn't make it sting any less, and if her eyes were daggers, you'd be dead by now. She has to force herself to look away from the two of you, her face growing hot with jealousy. She can't quite remember why she even wanted to come on this trip in the first place.

Once the group arrives in Jeju, everyone splits into separate groups to go over to Mai's family's beach house. Seokjin, Jisoo, Namjoon and Mai share a car, while Yoongi, Hoseok, Hana and Jimin all drive together, leaving you, Jungkook and Taehyung to drive together in the third car.

Jungkook packs everyone's luggage in the trunk of the rental car and gets the engine running. You sit in the passenger seat, leaving Taehyung to sit on the back seat. It's a beautiful day in Jeju, the waves crashing as you all drive down the scenic route. Jungkook occasionally steals glances at you while he drives, causing Taehyung to stifle a big grin. He can't tell if you're oblivious to his friend's obvious affection toward you, or if you're just choosing to ignore it. Either way, it's quite amusing for him to witness first hand.

"I wonder how many rooms there are at this house," Taehyung mumbles, looking out at the view. "I'm sure a few people will have to share, huh?"

"Well, obviously each couple will share a room," Jungkook murmurs.

"Right...Joon and Mai, Jin and Jisoo, you and-"

"Wow! Look at that view!" Jungkook interjects before he can go any further, shooting his friend a narrow-eyed look in the rear-view mirror, Taehyung pretending to seal his lips. The rest of the drive is filled with the soft sounds of the radio playing, paired with the sounds and smell of the ocean outside.

It's a thirty-minute drive before you all get to the beach house. Jungkook pulls up into the driveway and gets out, going around to open your door for you. Once you get out the car, your eyes widen in awe of the stunning house. It's a big two-story home with six bedrooms, large windows and the beach right at its feet. Some of the others are already there, Jisoo and Mai already setting up and unpacking the groceries in the kitchen.

You, Jungkook and Taehyung get your luggage from the trunk and make your way inside. Mai makes sure to give you a little tour of the house while the others chat in the kitchen, showing you around the bottom and top floor to make sure you know where everything is. Once everyone has arrived at the house, the group gathers in the living room, getting comfortable to decide who's taking what room.

"We hope you all don't mind but Mai and I will be taking the master bedroom," Namjoon grins, already heading upstairs to take their luggage to their room, the one with a king-sized bed and a gorgeous view of the beach, leaving everyone else to decide on their rooms. Seokjin and Jisoo get the second biggest bedroom, the one upstairs with a queen-sized bed and a big tub in the en-suite. Hoseok suggests him and Yoongi share one of the bedrooms with two single beds, and he accepts, mainly because he could care less where he sleeps.

As everyone begins to pair off for the remainder of the rooms, the reality of the situation slowly starts to sink in. There are five people left, and only three more rooms.

"Jimin and I will share a room," Taehyung calls out, shooting Jungkook a look, subtly gesturing over to you with his eyes. He knows his friend wants to share a room with you, better yet, he knows his friend does not want to share a room with Hana.

"___, you're new to the group. You should get your own room," Mai suggests.

Dammit Mai.

Jungkook looks over at you, swallowing thickly at the thought of having to share the last room with Hana, who happens to be visibly pleased.

"I think that's a great idea!" Hana quips with a sly grin. "Kookie and I can share, and his friend can have her own room. I mean, who doesn't want their own room, right, ___?"

"Oh, uhhh..." You don't quite know what to say. You glance over at Jungkook, his eyes boring a hole through you, practically begging you to decline. You're a guest in Mai's family's home, so you should probably just take what you get, even if the thought of Jungkook and Hana sleeping in a bed together makes your stomach turn.

"Hana, why don't you take the single room instead?" Taehyung blurts out with a sickeningly sweet smile, causing Hana to whip her head in his direction. "___ is Jungkook's friend so I think it would only make sense for them to share a room. You said it yourself; who doesn't want their own room...right?"

Hana's eyes dart between you and Jungkook, her jaw clenching. She had clearly hoped to get a room with Jungkook in hopes of getting closer to him, but with everyone's expectant eyes on her, Taehyung leaves her no choice. She forces a smile and pretends to be thrilled about having her own room for these next three days.

"Yeah, perfect," she mutters through gritted teeth.

Jungkook keeps his expression schooled, even as his heart bangs against his ribcage. The two of you will be sharing a room. He shoots Taehyung a grateful smile, silently thanking his friend for doing what he couldn't do. Internally, he's ecstatic, but externally he remains nonchalant. He knows you still have your boundaries and your rules and all that, so he leans over to whisper in your ear from his seat on the arm of the couch, making sure no one else can hear. "Are you okay with this?"

You turn your head to look up at him, your heart racing at the thought of sharing a room with him for three days. You're not sure if it's nerves or excitement, but you nod and give him a faint smile. Some rules are meant to be broken on vacation anyway.

He mirrors your smile, his eyes having a hard time looking away from your face. "It's fine with us," he announces, standing up to grab your luggage and take it to the room.

You follow him to your room and gently close the door behind you, your eyes trailing over the double bed you'll be sharing. The room itself is quite spacious with a big window, allowing the late afternoon sea breeze to travel inside. There is an en-suite bathroom and a waterfall shower, but all you can think about is that bed and what might happen in it in the nights to come.

You both start unpacking, the room slowly starting to feel like your own, your skincare products placed neatly on the bathroom counter, your clothing hanging in the shared closet. You hang up the last of your clothing while Jungkook goes to sit at the edge of the bed, watching you with a faint smile on his face.

"You sure you're okay with us sharing a room? Because I can sleep on the couch in the living room if you-"

"Don't be ridiculous," you chuckle, walking over to stand between his thighs, your hands on your hips. "I'm not letting you sleep on the couch on vacation. You'd probably just end up complaining about a crick in your neck and I don't wanna have that on my conscience."

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "I guess you're right, yeah."

His laughter dies down, his face softening into a smile, his big brown eyes staring up at you, his hands reaching out to trail up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your leggings. "Seriously though, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Jungkook, I'm okay."

"Can I get a kiss to prove it?" he whispers, staring up at you like he's been dying to ask since he picked you up from your apartment.

You let out a soft scoff and lean down to cup his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft peck to his lips.

"Another one please," he whispers, his lips just millimetres from yours, his big brown eyes pleading as he stares up at you. You smile and close the gap, pressing another kiss to his lips, this one lasting slightly longer.

"One more."

"You're greedy."

"For you, yes."

You're about to respond, when there's a knock at the door, causing you to jolt up straight, backing away from him to avoid getting caught by any of his friends. "Come in!"

Jisoo peeks her head in, completely oblivious to the moment you had going on. "Hey, we're getting started on dinner, okay? It shouldn't be long."

"Thanks, Soo," Jungkook murmurs, standing up to subtly adjust his jeans, his back turned to her.

As soon as Jisoo leaves and the door closes, your eyes trail down to see Jungkook's situation, a little chuckle bubbling up your throat.

"Are you seriously hard from a few kisses?"

"Shut up, your kisses feel good, okay?" he mumbles, a faint pout on his lips.

You bite your lip to hold back the smile spreading across your face, his words sending a rush of pride through your chest. You glance over at the bathroom door before grabbing some underwear and a flowy dress from the closet to wear to dinner. "I'm gonna go take a shower before dinner, okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, his eyes growing wide as you turn around and press one last kiss to his lips before disappearing into the en-suite, the bathroom door shutting behind you.

Jungkook plops down onto the bed with his arms splayed out, a big grin spread across his face as he stares up at the ceiling. A few kisses and he's putty in your hands.

The smell of food fills your nose as you leave the room for dinner, the others coming in and out of the kitchen. Jisoo sets the table while Seokjin and Yoongi finish up on dinner, with the others hanging out in the living room. You want to make yourself useful in any way that you can, so you go to the kitchen to check if anyone needs any help.

"___, can you help me set the table?" Jisoo asks, handing you a few plates.

You get to work, placing a plate at each place setting while she adds the utensils and the glasses. She doesn't seem to talk much, which is quite the opposite of Mai, which is probably why they're best friends. They balance each other out. That seems to be the case for Jungkook's entire friend group. Each person has their person who seems to balance out their personality. Yoongi has Hoseok, Jisoo has Mai and Mai has Namjoon, and so on. This leaves you questioning who your person is. Maybe it's the man who can't seem to keep his big brown eyes off of you for more than a few seconds at a time as he attempts to stay focused on his conversation with Hoseok and Namjoon.

"You know," Jisoo murmurs, keeping her eyes down as she gently places the utensils next to each plate. "You must be really special for Jungkook to bring you around."

Her words puzzle you. "How so?"

She looks over at you, a soft smile spreading across her face. "You're the first woman Jungkook's ever introduced us to. Even if you are just his friend...you must be a very special friend."

You look down at the stack of plates in your hands, her words ringing through your head. "I suppose so..."

As if on cue, Jungkook walks into the dining room, slowly rounding the table to get to you, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. "Need any help?"

"I think we can manage," you murmur softly, looking up into his eyes.

Jisoo looks between the two of you with a knowing smile, leaving to get the salads from the kitchen. She knows that look, the way you look at him. It's the same look she used to give Seokjin in university, the look she still gives him even after three kids. She doesn't know you that well yet, but she has a sneaky suspicion she'll be seeing a lot more of you.

Everyone eventually sits down for dinner, Jungkook sitting on your left and Mai on your right. The atmosphere around the table is bubbly, everyone chatting and discussing their plans for the next two days in Jeju.

"We're so playing volleyball tomorrow," Hoseok announces. "Everyone in?"

"Soo and I will be sitting this one out," Seokjin murmurs with an apologetic smile.

"Boooo!" Jimin teases, rolling his eyes. "Hyung, c'mon!"

"Sorry, we're going for a walk," he shrugs.

"A walk?" Namjoon scoffs. "Is that code for sex?"

Seokjin lets out a hearty laugh, giving Namjoon an exasperated look. "You try having three kids. Cut us some slack!"

"Okay, so Jin and Jisoo are out," Hoseok says, rolling his eyes at the couple who don't seem to care, Jisoo placing a soft kiss on her husband's cheek.

"Me too," Yoongi murmurs, chewing on some of the samgyeopsal. "I wanna catch up on some reading."

Hoseok scoffs, muttering a teasing, "Get a load of Stephen Hawking over here".

"I'm in," Jimin calls out. "I still have to kick your ass for the last volleyball game."

"Yeah, me too. I can't believe we lost to Hobi," Taehyung sighs, shaking his head. "Kook?"

"I'm still deciding," Jungkook murmurs with a faint grin, taking a sip of his beer. His response is mostly just to tease Hoseok.

You look over at him, then over at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for your verdict. "I'm in."

"See, I knew I liked you, ___," Hoseok smiles. "Kook, why didn't you bring her around sooner? I'm already starting to like her more than you."

Jungkook doesn't protest. He simply glances over at you with a soft smile on his face, watching as you talk to his friends. It feels so natural to have you here, like you're a puzzle piece that's been missing all this time. You just fit.

All throughout dinner, he finds little ways to maintain contact with you. He touches your thigh under the table, he rests his arm over the back of your chair, he lazily plays with the ends of your hair while you make conversation with Taehyung about work. It's his subtle way of showing his affection without outright saying what he feels.

After dinner, his friends decide to sit around the patio and roast some marshmallows on the fire that Seokjin lit. Hana chose to go to her room with the excuse of not feeling too well so that she doesn't have to tell the truth, which is that she would rather bang her head against a wall than sit and watch Jungkook make heart eyes at you for another second.

Everyone else gets cozy outside. The sun has already set, the moon and stars illuminating the seaside while the waves crash in the distance. You sit next to Jungkook on one of the patio loveseats, the fire crackling as he holds out a charred marshmallow on a skewer.

"Mai, is everything finalised for the wedding?" Jisoo asks, snuggling up to Seokjin under a thick blanket on one of the other loveseats.

"I have my final dress fitting next week and the venue is stunning! We can't wait for you guys to see it," Mai gushes, her eyes sparkling as she talks about her wedding. "We're really excited."

"Damn, the second couple in our friend group is getting married," Yoongi sighs. "We're getting old."

"Speak for yourself," Taehyung scoffs, playfully elbowing his friend.

"Weddings are always so exciting," Jisoo sighs blissfully. "I remember how happy I was at our wedding. I think that was honestly the happiest day of my life...and when the boys were born of course," she chuckles.

You stare down at the fire burning away, your eyes slightly glossy as you zone in on the low flames. Wedding-talk always gets you a bit choked up, but the last thing you want to do is take away from Mai and Namjoon's moment, so you blink away the moisture building in your eyes and swallow the lump in your throat.

Of course Jungkook notices. He can sense something is wrong by the way your shoulders tense up, the way your eyes remain fixed on the fire. He doesn't want to draw any attention to you, so he leans closer, keeping his voice down. "Hey, everything okay?" he whispers, gently snaking an arm around your waist.

You snap out of your daze to look at him, inhaling sharply, the cool evening breeze working fast to dry your eyes. "Mhm," you nod, looking out at the ocean in the distance. "I'm fine, just...a bit tired."

"You wanna head inside?"

"No, I'm fine."

He doesn't push. He takes your word for it, even though he knows you're anything but fine. He knows you won't tell him what's on your mind, so he lets it go and gently squeezes your waist through the fabric of your dress, a simple way of saying that he's here for you through whatever it is that seems to be bothering you.

"Hey, she was hot!" Jimin exclaims exasperatedly.

"She threatened to hit you with her car," Namjoon laughs.

The conversation seems to have taken a different turn while you and Jungkook got distracted, his friends reminiscing about their failed relationships. Namjoon and Mai's upcoming wedding has them all thinking about their own love lives, some a bit less significant than others.

"What can I say, I like my girls with a touch of psycho," Jimin laughs, earning an amused snort from Taehyung.

"Hey, remember that woman Kook told us about a few years ago who was apparently sooo gorgeous," Hoseok chuckles. "What ever happened to her, man?"

"Yeah, you never told us her name," Yoongi chimes in, giving Jungkook a puzzled look. "You went on and on about how smart and-"

Jungkook clears his throat loudly, subtly signaling for them to 'zip it', his eyes briefly flickering over to you before you even catch it. "She died," he deadpans, earning a loud laugh from Hoseok.

"You're so full of bullshit," he laughs, shaking his head. He would never laugh at something so tragic, but come on. It's so obvious Jungkook just wants this topic to end.

You glance over at him, seeing the way he looks down at the wooden patio floor, his cheeks flushed. You wonder who they're talking about and why you've never heard him talk about this "gorgeous" woman before. You don't want to ask him about it. You don't want to know. Or do you? You feel weird. It's like you're...jealous or something. You're not jealous, that's ridiculous. It's just curiosity. And possibly acid reflux. Well, good for her, whoever she is.

Jungkook lets out a silent sigh of relief when the guys don't question him any further, the topic changing to something else, something you don't really take notice of because you're still too busy wondering who this woman is, or was. Maybe another professor at work? Or maybe she was a neighbour, or even just someone in passing, like a cashier at the grocery store or a waitress at a restaurant.

You're so busy wondering who it could be, you don't even realize you're shivering until he mentions it. "Are you cold?"

"A little," you murmur, rubbing your arms, feeling the goosebumps that have risen.

"I'll go get you a blanket. I'll be right back."

You watch as he gets up and goes inside the house to get you a blanket, your eyes following behind him even when he's out of your line of sight. Mai notices and scoots closer.

"Are you thinking about what Hobi said? About the woman Jungkook wouldn't stop talking about?"

"What?" Your eyebrows raise in faux surprise. "No, why would I be thinking about that?"

Mai smiles, seeing right through your lie. "Okay, well...just so you know...if Hobi actually paid enough attention, he'd remember that Jungkook went on and on about the gorgeous political science professor he met at work...but you didn't hear that from me," she whispers, playfully zipping her lips.

Mai's words make you freeze in your spot, your lips parting, the lightbulb going off in your brain. You know he finds you attractive. Obviously, he's having sex with you, for God's sake. But hearing that he spoke to his friends about you all those years ago when you first met...it feels different. It has a different connotation. You don't speak about a friend like that, do you? Well, you're not just friends, but you're not his either. Being his is a concept you've noticed reoccurring in your head a lot lately, but one you have yet to acknowledge. It's scary to think about. Being his doesn't feel scary, but the thought of being vulnerable enough to lay yourself out there to be hurt is scary.

You're snapped back to reality when Jungkook returns and sits down next to you, gently draping a warm blanket around your shoulders, an even warmer smile on his face.

"Better?" he whispers.

"Better," you whisper.

That look on his face. It makes everything feel less scary. It makes your heart beat faster and your stomach feel all tingly. It's a look you've grown accustomed to. It's a feeling you've started growing accustomed to.

The evening slowly draws to a close and everyone starts saying their goodnights, going off to their rooms. Jungkook goes to your room and you're about to join him but you're stopped by Mai in the hallway.

"Hey," she whispers. "Please don't tell Jungkook I told you about the whole 'gorgeous professor' thing. He'd probably kill me."

You chuckle, storing the information in a locked safe in your brain. "I won't say anything."

"Okay. I just don't want him to think I'm meddling, y'know."

"There's nothing to meddle in, Mai. We're just-"

"Friends...right," she chuckles, nodding in understanding, even though her facial expression tells you she still doesn't believe you. She knows there's more to the story. The chemistry between you and Jungkook is too strong to be just friends.

"Don't give me that look."

"What look? There's no look," she laughs.

"There so is a look," you chuckle, shaking your head.

"I'm just saying...I'm not trying to pry, I just...l kinda have a feeling there's more going on. There's a whole vibe between you two."

"The 'vibe' is called friendship," you deadpan.

At this point you aren't sure if you're trying to convince Mai or yourself, but it's a habit at this point to deny any romantic connection between you and Jungkook. It saves you from answering a million questions.

"Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you," she chuckles, holding her hands up in surrender. "I'll let you go before your 'friend' starts looking for you," she teases, biding you goodnight before going upstairs to join Namjoon in the master bedroom.

You make your way into your room and close the door behind you, finding Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he murmurs with a soft smile, holding his arms out as you make your way over to him, his hands sliding up to hold onto your waist, his eyes looking up at you. There isn't too much light in the room except for the bedside light and the moonlight streaming in through the large window.

"What were you and Mai talking about out there?"

"Girl stuff, I can't tell you," you tease, you lips curling into a grin.

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, girl stuff, huh? So secret and exclusive," he murmurs with a mock pout.

"Yeah, it's confidential. Sorry," you chuckle, reaching out to gently run your fingers through his hair.

"Not even a hint? C'mon, baby..."

"My lips are sealed, Jeon."

Jungkook tilts his head back to look up at you properly, a hint of yearning in his gaze. He can barely focus on your words when you look so pretty standing before him. He can't wait to break in the bed with you, but he'll remain patient for now.

"Yeah?" he grins, biting his bottom lip. "Maybe I could get you to open them, hm?"

"Behave yourself," you whisper, your eyes slowly trailing down to his lips and back up. "Your friends are just down the hall."

"So? Let them hear us, I don't care."

You have to mentally remind yourself that you're not alone and that you don't want his friends hearing the things the two of you get up to behind closed doors. You muster up your strength to pull away from him, feeling like a magnet resisting his pull.

"You're crazy. I'm gonna go get ready for bed." You go to get your pyjamas from the closet and make your way to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

Jungkook waits for you while you change, chewing on his bottom lip as he stares at the bathroom door. He slowly removes his shirt and his shoes, leaning back on his hands. He looks up as you emerge from the bathroom, standing in the open doorframe, your face glowing from the serum you used, your toothbrush in your mouth. He sees the way your eyes trail down his bare chest, the way your pupils dilate ever so subtly.

"You look cute," he murmurs with a lazy grin, his head tilted to the side as he watches you from the bed.

"Don't I always?" you tease, spitting the toothpaste foam into the sink before rinsing your mouth and walking out of the bathroom.

"Yes, but...I like you like this, in your cute pyjamas, your hair up, bare-faced," he murmurs, getting up from the bed to make his way over to you. He stands behind you at the sink, his hands trailing around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"You gonna let me take these cute pyjamas off you?" he whispers. "I'll do that thing you like with my tongue."

His words go straight to your core, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. You turn around to face him, your hands resting upon his bare chest as you look up into his eyes.

"What do you say? You wanna break in the bed?"

You look up into his eyes, your heart telling you to give in and let him do whatever he wants with you, your brain telling you that the walls are thin, that it's risky. Taehyung and Jimin's room is right next door, and if you can hear their muffled conversation, they'll be able to hear all the things Jungkook so badly wants to do to you.

"Maybe we should...wait...until we get back home..."

His brows furrow in confusion. That's not what he was expecting.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Your friends could hear us."

"___, I meant what I said. I don't care if they hear us."

"But I care," you whisper, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. "I just...I don't think we should risk it."

He sighs, but he understands why you're hesitant. He already let it slip to Taehyung that you're hooking up, breaking his promise of keeping it between the two of you. He doesn't want the rest of his friends finding out, especially not by hearing the two of you have sex. It would just bring about a million questions that he himself does not have the answers to.

"Okay. I understand," he sighs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "I'll just take a quick shower and get ready for bed."

He closes the bathroom door once you leave, but he doesn't lock it. A part of him wants you to walk back in and tell him that you changed your mind. He wants you to stop worrying so much and just let him love you the way he wants to. When he stands under the hot stream of water and lathers himself in his body wash, he wishes you were in there with him, letting him lather your body as well. He wishes you'd allow yourself to be taken care of. Sure he takes care of your sexual needs, but who runs you a nice warm bath after you've had a stressful day at work? Who makes you soup when you're sick or holds you in the middle of the night when you're having a bad dream? He could be that person for you if you'd just let him.

He wants to say 'fuck it' and change your mind, convince you to just let loose of the reins for a bit, but when he opens the bathroom door and finds you laying on your back in bed, with tired eyes and a soft smile on your face, all he really wants is to just lay by your side. He doesn't need the sex. A simple touch of your hand on his cheek is enough for him if it means he gets to be close to you.

He gets in bed, propping his head up on his hand, his eyes looking down at you. His hand snakes around to the side of your waist, keeping his grip gentle. "Those eyes look heavy. I thought people are supposed to stay up late on vacation."

"Yeah, when you're twenty-one. I'm not twenty-one anymore," you mumble through a soft chuckle, your sleepy eyes gazing up at him.

"Right, I forgot you're sixty-three with a hip replacement."

You let out a huff of laughter, the sound bringing a wide grin to his face. As your laughter dies down, you notice the way he looks at you, as if he's hypnotised by you.

"What?"

Jungkook's lips curl into a little smile when he realises he's been caught staring. "What?" he echoes, playing coy. "Can't I just admire a good-looking view?" he quips, his tone light and playful.

"I suppose I can't blame you," you murmur, your grin turning a bit more playful. "I'd stare too if I were you."

"Oh, you're so modest, aren't you?" He scoffs.

You chuckle, your eyes fluttering closed, and Jungkook's heart swells in his chest. Your smile is so soft, so genuine, it's infectious. He can't tear his eyes away from you, the way your lashes lay gently against your cheeks, the way your lips curve up at the edges. He reaches out without thinking, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, his touch light and tentative.

"___," he whispers.

"Yeah?"

There's a moment of utter silence before he speaks, his voice soft and delicate.

"You're an incredibly beautiful woman."

Suddenly, words are lost on you. You can't seem to find a response that would appropriately correlate with the way his words make you feel, so you show him instead. You lean in and press a gentle, tender kiss to his lips, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his jaw. It's slow and soft, and it steals his breath for a second. When you pull away, his eyes look slightly dreamy and his smile looks a bit dazed.

"Can we make that a regular thing?"

"What?"

"I mean...can we forget about the whole no kissing outside of sex thing? I just wanna kiss you...whenever it feels right..."

You pause, contemplating his words. You can't lie and say that you don't want that, because lord knows you do.

"We'll see," you whisper, smiling as you lean in for another kiss, and then another.

He knows what that smile means. It means you want it too, you're just too damn stubborn to outright admit it, as if him kissing you is so scandalous. He doesn't care, your unclear answer doesn't upset him. The way your lips can't seem to stray from his for longer than a few seconds tells him everything he needs to know.

"We'll see, huh?" He smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, rolling onto his back with your body halfway on top of him. He enjoys the simple intimacy of just having your head on his chest, his fingers languidly running through your hair.

"Yeah, we'll see," you whisper, laying your head down on his chest, where it remains for the rest of the night.

You're very cautious about cuddling. You don't cuddle after sex, and don't usually cuddle outside of sex either. Your heart is far too weak for that and you know that one good cuddle from the right man will have you throwing all your rules out the window, so when you wake up and that man isn't cuddling you like you had secretly hoped he would, you're met with disappointment.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking in the bright morning light that streams through the large window, the sea air drifting through your nose. As you come to, you notice that the other side of the bed is empty. Your thoughts linger on the person who is supposed to be on the other side of the bed, and you find yourself missing him, yearning to see his face, his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes. You slowly push yourself up into a sitting position, contemplating getting out of bed to find him.

Just as you're about to get up, however, the door to the bedroom opens and Jungkook walks in, carrying two mugs of coffee. As soon as his eyes land on you in bed, his face lights up with a smile.

"You're awake," he murmurs, his voice still a little groggy from sleep. He walks over to the bed and hands you one of the mugs.

"You went to get me coffee?" You still feel a bit groggy as you look down at the mug in your hand, smelling the delicious aroma.

"Of course," he smiles, sliding onto the edge of the bed beside you. "I figured you might need some caffeine to fully wake up."

Jungkook watches as you take a tentative sip of the coffee, enjoying the feeling of seeing you this early in the morning, still so sleepy, your hair a little messy, your lips slightly swollen, your cheeks flushed. He cherishes these moments, seeing you so vulnerable and unguarded in the morning. It's a side of you that he rarely gets to see, and he'll never take it for granted.

"Once you finish that, you have to get up because we're heading down to the beach around 9:30-ish."

"Damn...Hoseok really takes his volleyball seriously, huh?"

"He does," he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm gonna go get ready while you have your coffee."

He rounds the bed to get to his suitcase, pulling out his swimming shorts before making his way to the bathroom to change, giving you a moment to yourself.

You find yourself missing his presence as soon as the bathroom door closes, which is odd. You're not a clingy person. You like your space. You don't like spending every minute of every day with someone. Yet, here you are, impatiently waiting for his return after a simple trip to the bathroom to change. Maybe it's because you know that when he walks out of that bathroom, he'll be wearing half the amount of clothing he wore going in, or maybe your impatience is your body going through withdrawals after asking him to withold sex until you get home, which you think you're starting to regret.

You don't know what's going on with you lately. First, last night's jealousy at the thought of Jungkook finding another woman attractive (and the immediate relief when said woman turned out to be you), then the cuddling in bed, and then the disappointment of not waking up in his arms this morning.

It's not long before the bathroom door opens and he walks out in all his glory, his torso bare and toned, his shorts adorning his hips. A fresh cup of coffee and a nice view of a very attractive, half-naked man all within twenty minutes of waking up is surely a good way to start the day.

His presence alone is confirmation that you definitely regret asking him to withhold sex until you get home. It's confirmation that you were jealous last night, and that you were disappointed when he wasn't in bed with you when you woke up this morning.

"Actually, uh..." He stops in his tracks, his attention back on you. "You guys go and I'll meet you at the beach in a little bit."

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head in confusion.

"Yeah, you go, I'll be down in a bit."

He's hesitant to leave, having planned on going together, but he assumes you just want to catch up on a few more minutes of rest. "Okay...I'll see you down there," he murmurs with a smile before making his way out to join the others.

You set your coffee down on the nightstand and plop back down on the bed, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. You have so much going on in your head and your heart, and the two won't stop butting heads. You know this feeling. You know what love feels like. You've been there before, and you didn't like how it ended, which is exactly why you locked the big padlock on your heart and threw away the key. Yet, when you close your eyes and Jungkook's face pops up in your head, and his voice rings through your ears, a soft smile works its way onto your face.

When you're with him, you just want to kiss his cheek and listen to him ramble on and on about international trade and supply and demand. You want to suck his dick, then hold his hand and tell him how smart, and kind, and pretty he is. Oh how pretty he is. You want to partake in all of his nerdy interests with him and ask him questions about it just to see him get excited.

You threw that damn key away and you thought you'd never need it again, but somehow, Jungkook must have stumbled upon it and picked it up because it seems to be in his possession.

You can't stay here and let your thoughts run wild any longer. You have to get out of this room and get down to that beach.

It's still quite early yet the sun is already scorching, the sand warm and toasty beneath your feet. The smell of salty air and sunscreen fills your senses, a perfect combination for a summer day. You spot Mai in her cute bikini, tanning on the sand, so you make your way over to her while some of the others set up a volleyball net, Hoseok and Namjoon's excited chattering echoing in the distance.

"Wooow, hot mama," Mai hoots, her chin resting in her palm while she tans her back, her sunglasses pushed up to the top of her head. The 'hotness' she's referring to might be the red bikini adorning your body, the red bikini you picked out with Jungkook's reaction in mind...but who knows for sure?

"Speak for yourself," you chuckle, laying down beside her, the sun beating down on your back. "I bet Namjoon loves that bikini, huh?"

"Honey, he'll be taking this bikini off of me later," she cackles, shooting a flirty wave over to her fiancé in the distance.

Namjoon's eyes aren't the only ones occupied. Jungkook can't help but stare, his eyes hungrily raking over your form. He's supposed to be partaking in a conversation with Taehyung and Jimin, but he's so distracted, his thoughts consumed by the sight of you in that bikini, his gaze firmly planted to your smooth skin, the roundness of your ass, those legs. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours yet and the lack of sex is already proving to be rather difficult.

"What're you guys talking about?" There's that damn nagging voice, Hana joining their conversation, the conversation Jungkook couldn't care less about right now.

"Jimin and I were talking about what we'd do if we were the only people left on earth," Taehyung quips. "And Jungkook appears to no longer be with us."

Jungkook lets out a scoff, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes still glued to you while you converse with Mai in the distance.

Hana follows his line of sight and subtly rolls her eyes, letting out a soft sigh of frustration. "Kookie, what would you do if you and I were the only people left on earth?"

"Probably buy a gun," he mutters under his breath before walking off in your direction, leaving behind two highly amused friends and an offended Hana.

He makes his way over, sitting down next to you without a word, both of your faces turning into a grin at the mere proximity. "Hey ladies," he murmurs, getting comfortable while a few of the guys play a practice round of volleyball.

"Kook," Mai nods in acknowledgement, her eyes shifting to the water ahead. "I was just saying how hot your friend is."

"Mm, she's okay, I guess," he shrugs with a teasing grin, leaning back on his hands.

"I'm right here you know," you scoff.

"Trust me, I see you."

You're lucky Mai's eyes are on the water a few feet away, because if she were to turn her head and look at Jungkook, she'd see his hand trailing up your thigh, giving your asscheek a quick squeeze before you silently swat it away, a bashful smile on your face. You turn your head to him to mouth a silent 'stop' but he simply shoots you a mischievous wink.

That face paired with that wink gets you, and you might have let him continue if Hoseok hadn't called everyone to start the game of volleyball.

Everyone gathers and divides into two teams on opposite sides of the net, the air already filled with playful bickering and competitive banter. Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and you are on one side, while Namjoon, Mai, Hoseok and Hana are on the other.

The game begins and the competitive spirit sparks, everyone focused on their team winning. When you agreed to play, you didn't expect the game to be so intense, full of spikes, blocks and a few dives. You especially didn't expect to bond this well with his friends, the group making you feel like you've known them for years. You share high-fives and amusing words with his friends every time something exciting happens, feeling the synergy in the air.

Jungkook watches you as you run across the sand to get to the ball, admiring your agility. You certainly make a good team, sharing a bit of a competitive streak. The two of you work together to score against the other team in a tough back and forth, your excitement too much to contain when Namjoon fumbles the ball on their side of the net.

The point given to your team is shoved to the back of your mind when Jungkook rushes over to wrap his arms around your waist, spinning you off your feet. The adrenaline mixed with the contact of his skin on yours sends a dizzying, electrifying feeling through your body. The two of you laugh and cheer while Taehyung and Jimin shout taunts at the other team, the others playfully 'boo'ing and rolling their eyes.

Hana feels her face heat up in a simmering rage of jealousy and frustration, her eyes narrowing as she watches the two of you, the flirty undertones, his winks every time you score, the bashful smiles all starting to grate at her.

"Not fair, ___'s good! I want her on our team," Hana calls out, clearly up to something.

"But-" Jimin is about to protest but she's already made up her mind.

"___, why don't you swap with Hobi for the rest of the game."

"Wha- hey! I thought I was good," Hoseok laughs.

Hana's tone is just a little too sweet. You can feel the shift in her demeanour, and you know it's not just about the game anymore. You glance over at Jungkook, seeing the crease between his eyebrows, the tension in his jaw. It's clear that he is not happy.

"No way, ___'s our star player," Taehyung calls out, playfully nudging your arm, oblivious to the underlying tension.

Hana doesn't back down, her smile turning sly. "Oh whatever, don't be so greedy," she chides, her voice sickly sweet. "Come on, ___."

You don't want to reject her in front of everyone, so you offer her a weak smile, feeling put on the spot. "Sure," you mutter, reluctantly swapping places with Hoseok. You shoot Jungkook a confused look, his expression mirroring yours.

The game starts back up, but Jungkook is still suspicious of her intentions. He knows what she's like, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

The game goes on, everyone playing as normal, the vibes more or less okay, until they aren't. Jimin hits the ball in your direction and you run a few quick steps to reach it, when suddenly there's a foot blocking your way, sending you tumbling to the ground, your body landing in the sand, your ankle taking a bit of a beating.

"Oh shit, ___, I'm sorry," Hana gasps, the emotion in her voice not reaching her face. Everyone looks concerned, worried looks crossing their faces.

Jungkook reacts within seconds, sprinting over to you as soon as you hit the sand, his heart racing in his chest, his eyes wide with worry. He crouches down to check on you, his hands gentle as he inspects you for any injuries. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

You look up at his face, seeing the genuine worry in his eyes. "My ankle hurts a bit but-"

Before you can get your sentence out, he's already checking your ankle, looking like a first aider who desperately wants a raise.

"It's fine, really, it's nothing to worry about."

He looks into your eyes, his movements coming to a halt, his chest rising and falling from rushing over to you. He doesn't care that his friends are watching, he doesn't care that his feelings are as clear as day. All he cares about right now is you and your ankle.

"You're sure?"

You nod, slowly getting up. You take a step, but your ankle is tender, causing you to hiss and stumble. Jungkook reaches out to steady you, his hands holding onto your waist, his grip firm.

"___, I think you should rest your ankle, honey," Mai murmurs with a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, maybe put some ice on it," Namjoon nods, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry. It was an accident," Hana pipes up, a faint, apologetic smile on her face. The apology is almost as fake as her nose.

Jungkook's eyes narrow when he looks over at her, his anger showing clearly on his face. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he bites back a response. As much as he wants to lash out at her for purposefully hurting you, he holds his tongue, not giving her the attention she wants.

"I'm gonna go take her back to the house to get some ice on her ankle," he says, his tone brokering no argument. "You all can continue playing." The rest of the group nods in agreement, their faces filled with sympathy and concern. Hana stays silent.

Your injury really isn't that serious for you to not be able to walk, just causing a little limp, but when Jungkook decides you need to be carried bridal style, you don't protest. You actually have to hold back a giggle when his arm muscles flex as he carries you, quickly composing yourself.

He cradles you against his chest as he takes you back to the house, his grip on you firm but gentle. Once you reach the house, he sets you down on the couch, propping up your ankle with a pillow. He disappears into the kitchen, returning moments later with an ice pack, which he gently applies to your ankle. He takes a seat on the edge of the couch, his eyes fixed on your face, studying your expression for any signs of pain or discomfort.

He notices the small hiss that escapes your lips, his gaze softening as he looks at you, his hand resting on the ice pack, keeping it in place. "Does it hurt?"

"It's just really cold," you chuckle, looking down at the ice pack.

"Cold is better than pain, right?"

"Yeah, cold is better than pain," you smile.

You feel him remove the ice pack, watching him inspect your ankle with so much care, so much tenderness. Seeing him run over as soon as you got hurt, having him take care of you like this...it's a glimpse of the care you haven't allowed yourself to indulge in for a long time.

"Thank you," you whisper as you look up into his eyes, your body language a bit more vulnerable.

His gaze is soft, his expression filled with a tenderness that matches his touch. "Of course."

There's a moment, just a brief one, where time seems to still, his eyes holding yours, the space between you feeling almost electrified with a quiet intimacy.

"You got over there pretty fast," you murmur softly.

"Of course, I was worried about you."

He leans in, his face inching closer to yours, his fingers gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before he cups your cheek in his palm. "I don't ever want to see you hurt...no matter how minor..."

"I'm okay," you whisper, a faint smile on your lips, your nose just barely brushing against his.

"How's the pain?"

"What pain?"

He rolls his eyes, a small huff of amusement leaving his lips. "I'm serious," he whispers, a hint of a smile on his face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You're sure it's okay?"

"I'm sure." You voice is soft, and the kiss he presses to your lips is even softer, your mouths moving in sync. Your lips might not be able to say everything you're feeling, but the kiss sure does. It's a silent confession that he cares for you and you care for him, more deeply than either of you can put into words.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes still closed after that kiss, but the sound of the guys returning from the beach is like a cold shower, both of you suddenly pulled back into reality, the moment between you interrupted.

He holds the ice pack firmly against your ankle but his eyes are on your face, trying to read your expression, trying to find even a hint of what you're thinking or feeling. His heart is racing, but he forces himself to appear calm, to mask the flurry of emotions he's going through.

The guys burst through the door, their voices loud and full of laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet and charged atmosphere between you and Jungkook. They're blissfully oblivious to what they've interrupted, their brains still on the beach. They all make sure to check if you're okay, the attention thankfully on your ankle and not on Jungkook's and your flushed cheeks and flustered faces.

It's around 7pm when you find yourself on the patio, curled up on one of the loveseats, listening to Mai and Jisoo discuss wedding preparations. The sun is halfway set along the horizon, casting pretty pink and orange hues across the sky.

Some of the others have already retired to their rooms, probably knocked out after eating the mountain of dumplings Yoongi made for dinner. You had contemplated speaking to Hana about what happened on the beach, but you ultimately decided against it. You know that her intention was to hurt you, but you're an adult and you refuse to indulge in her petty games.

"Are you stressed out? I know I was when I was getting married," Jisoo chuckles, taking a sip of her tea as she curls up one of the patio sofas.

"Big time," Mai sighs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm so excited to finally marry Joon, but wedding planning is a lot more stressful than I thought it would be."

You listen as Mai vents, going on about the caterers, and the venue, and the dress. You're a part of the conversation, but you shift in and out of being emotionally present. Your eyes drift off into the distance, staring out at the water with a distant look on your face, the pain in your ankle long forgotten.

"Joon and I even got into an argument last month because we went over budget...or, well, I went over budget," she scoffs.

"That's normal," Jisoo shrugs, giving her a reassuring smile. "Jin and I had a few arguments throughout the planning. I get it. As long as you don't let the stress come between you."

You might be here physically, but mentally, you've checked out. It's as if your thoughts have grown legs and ran off on their own, taunting you with Jisoo's words.

As long as you don't let the stress come between you.

Jisoo's words take you back to that time in your life, when you thought your life was perfect. It was perfect. You had the man of your dreams, a ring, and the promise of a long life together. Then you 'let the stress come between you'. At least that was Sunghoon's excuse for having sex with a friend of yours. He told you he was stressed out and the wedding planning just became too much for him, and you were always studying for your masters, never giving him the attention he deserved.

It's a strange thing, grieving. To grieve, not a person, but rather a bond that you spent years building with a person, is a feeling you can't quite explain. Grieving the loss of a relationship is not linear. The sadness and the anger come and go. Some days you're completely fine, laughing and going out, feeling like yourself again. Some days you're on your bedroom floor, crying as you clutch onto the wedding dress you never got the wear. You grieve Sunghoon, not because he died, but because that boy you fell for at sixteen no longer exists.

You envy Mai and Namjoon's relationship. It's clear how much they love each other, how much he loves her. It's clear how much he values and respects her, how his eyes don't prioritize anything that isn't her, how kind and gentle he is with her. It's a reminder of the love you once had. The love that was crumpled up and thrown in your face on a random Tuesday evening.

You have to excuse yourself when the feeling starts to get a bit too much, all this wedding-talk making your eyes sting. You go down to the beach, the sand feeling rough beneath your feet, the air much colder now that the sun is fully set. You sit down with your knees held to your chest, your eyes looking out at the water, the waves crashing loudly. It's what your brain sounds like. So, so loud. It's overwhelming and the lump in your throat is starting to hurt.

Then there's a voice behind you and it's like everything goes still, your thoughts finally quieting down.

"There you are," he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle, the sound enough to warm you up in the cold breeze. "Mai and Jisoo said you were out here."

You don't respond, your heart feeling a little lighter when he sits down next to you, his eyes trailing from the water to your face.

"Why are you out here alone, hm?"

"Just...needed some air."

"There's air in the house too, you know."

A faint smile flashes across your face before it fades, your eyes trained straight ahead of you. "It's better to think out here."

"I suppose that's true."

He looks over at you, sensing the sadness in your eyes, in your demeanour. He doesn't know what it is, but he wants to protect you from it. It might be greedy of him, but he wants to pick apart your brain and understand exactly what it is that's burdening you. He wants to know your past, your fears, your regrets. He doesn't want to push, but he wants to be let in.

"___, what's making you so sad?"

You scoff humourlessly. "What makes you think I'm sad?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't hide from me," he murmurs, looking at you with so much tenderness. "I can't force you to tell me what's bothering you...but I know it's not nothing."

"You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

"Maybe."

He doesn't even know the half of it.

You stay silent, chewing on your bottom lip. You can't lie to him, and that kinda scares you. It scares you that you feel so strongly for him, strong enough to want to completely bare your soul for him.

"Listening to Mai and Jisoo talk about the wedding...it reminded me of..."

He doesn't rush you. He lets you take your time, holding his breath as he waits, sensing you want to open up about whatever it is that's weighing so heavily on your shoulders.

"It reminded me of a love I lost years ago..."

He isn't sure exactly what he feels. A part of him is relieved that you're finally letting him in, finally showing him this vulnerability. It's all he's ever wanted, yet the thought of a man hurting you, a man who once had the privilege of loving you (the privilege he so desperately longs for) and still throwing that away...it makes his head spin. This is the first time he's heard of you being with anyone in the past, and it reminds him of how little you've actually shared with him about yourself and your past.

"Do you...want to tell me about it?" He keeps his voice low, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear of scaring you away.

You take a deep breath before speaking.

"He was my first love...we met in high school. We were together for...a long time," you murmur, looking down at a vague spot in the sand. "And he cheated on me."

You don't tell him everything, just enough for him to get an understanding without sharing too much.

Your confession almost knocks the air out of his lungs, his brows furrowing, his eyes growing wide. He's angry. He's furious at the man who dared to betray you like that, he's confused why anyone would do something like that to a woman like you. He's sad, so terribly sad that you had to go through that. He can't imagine what that must have felt like, the pain you must have gone through. It pains him to think about you ever being hurt like that.

"___, I'm so sorry," he whispers, slowly inching closer to you.

"Don't be," you murmur, the faint smile on your lips not quite reaching your eyes. "It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it was wrong. ___, you deserve...everything. You deserve someone who wakes up everyday and feels blessed to have you, who would go to the ends of the earth for you..."

There's a pause, the air feeling thick.

"You deserve a man who loves you with all his heart."

His words fade into a quiet whisper, as if he's just bared his deepest secrets. He looks at the side of your face, his heart pounding in his chest.

"___," he whispers, practically begging you to look at him.

Your gaze meets his, your eyes shining with a thin sheen of unshed tears. His words hold so much feeling, so much desperation.

"Yes?" It's almost too soft to reach his ears, your voice trembling.

He leans in, his face inching closer, his fingers gently brushing your hair behind your ear.

"If you were mine...really mine..." He takes a sharp inhale through his nose, his eyes boring into yours. "I'd never break your heart."

It's like a dam breaks.

You close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his, your eyes squeezing shut, a tear finally rolling down your cheek, quickly being brushed away by his thumb. You crawl into his lap, the kiss growing passionate, your fingers sliding up into his hair, gripping onto his strands to steady yourself. You feel everything and nothing and all that is in between.

You love him. You really do, and it took you four years of knowing him to admit it to yourself. It's scary and it's uncertain, but it's love and it's real and you can't keep running from it.

It makes you shiver, the overwhelming feeling mixed with the cold evening air.

"Are you cold?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

"A little."

"Why don't we get you in a nice warm shower?"

You know what his suggestion implies, and you can't deny yourself of the pleasures of loving him and letting him love you.

"Okay."

You get up and make your way back to the house. It's completely still, everyone else already in their rooms. Jungkook leads you to your room and shuts the door, locking it for good measure. He looks over at you, the two of you silently communicating that you want this. He crosses the room and takes your face in his hands, crashing his lips into yours.

You walk backwards to the en-suite, pulling away only for him to open the shower door and turn the water on, the hot water slowly filling the room with steam. He turns back to you, searching your eyes for any hesitation.

"Are you coming in with me?" Your voice gives away your desires, your eyes begging him to give you what you want.

"Do you want me to?"

"I do," you murmur, leaning in to press a few quick pecks to his lips. You pull away and hold your arms up, a faint smile playing on your lips.

He gets the hint and reaches for the hem of your top, slowly pulling it up over your head, with big smiles spread across both of your faces. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, slowly sliding the material down your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he presses soft kisses to your collarbones. He kisses down your body until he is kneeling before you, his eyes trailing up to your face. "God, you're gorgeous," he mutters softly, hooking his fingers into the sides of your pants, pulling the fabric down your legs.

He presses a gentle peck to your lower stomach beneath your belly button, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulls your panties down, tossing it aside with the rest of your clothes.

He stands up straight and smiles as you start undressing him, pulling his shirt over his head before moving onto his pants and boxers, letting the clothing pool at his feet.

He presses his lips to yours and leads you into the shower, the warm water cascading down your bodies. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the wet hair at the base of his neck. "I thought we were waiting until we got home," he whispers, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm tired of waiting," you whisper, moaning as he kisses down your neck.

His hands slide over your body, the water making everything slick, his fingers tracing along your curves. He pulls your body against his, his mouth moving up your neck to your ear, where he takes your earlobe into his mouth. "I'm gonna make you feel so good...gonna make you forget all about that other asshole."

He gently presses you up against the shower wall, kissing a line down the side of your neck. He holds onto your waist to steady you while his other hand finds its way between your legs, running his middle finger through your folds.

"So wet, baby," he mumbles into your neck, his voice a low rumble.

He gathers some of your slick on his fingers and starts rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moan softly and tilt your head back against the wall, your fingers gripping his biceps. He makes sure you're wet enough before sliding a finger into your pussy, slowly thrusting it in and out.

"F-fuck," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut.

"That feel good, baby?"

You nod.

"Want another?"

"Mhmm," you sigh blissfully, feeling him insert a second finger, his lips and tongue attached to your neck.

He groans at the sound of your slick, his fingers moving in a 'come here' motion, pulling soft moans and sighs from your lips. "You like that?" he mumbles, his voice a little deeper, his breathing a little ragged.

"Y-yeah," you manage to breathe out, your eyes squeezing shut and your eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure builds. Your nails dig into his biceps when his fingers pick up the pace, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten.

"Gonna...c-cum..."

He smiles against your neck as starts rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb, his middle and ring finger moving faster. "Cum for me, baby."

Your muscles tense up as the knot unravels, your orgasm washing over you with a loud moan. He slows his fingers, helping you through it by easing the pressure on your clit. "You did so good for me," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth.

You hand trails down his abdomen until it reaches its destination, wrapping your fingers around his semi-hard cock. He moans into the kiss, slipping his fingers out of your pussy to grip your hips, needing something to ground him while you stroke his cock.

"Wanna make you feel good," you whisper into the kiss, trailing your lips down his chin and neck, moving lower until you're down on your knees in front of him.

He looks down at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his stomach muscles tensing in anticipation. He slides his fingers through your wet hair, resting his free hand against the wall. He watches as you part your lips, his cock twitching in excitement.

"Gonna take it like a good girl?"

You nod up at him before pressing a teasing kiss to the tip, listening to the soft moan that falls from his lips. You start stroking the shaft, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Fuck, that feels good," he sighs, taking hold of your chin, pushing his thumb into your mouth. He groans as you swirl your tongue around it, the way you would with his cock.

You suck on his thumb, making sure to hold eye contact while you stroke his cock, the tip already starting to leak a bit of pre-cum. Once you get him fully hard, you release his thumb from your mouth and replace it with his cock, feeling the delicious weight on your tongue.

He watches as you start sucking him, focusing your tongue on the head before taking him all the way to the back of your throat, pulling a deep groan from his throat. He fists his hand in your hair, letting out shaky breaths as the pleasure flows through him. You're a sight to see, with wet hair and a mouth full of cock.

He can't decide if he wants to cum down your throat or fuck you against the wall. He likes the sound of the latter.

"Baby...b-baby, stop," he mutters breathlessly, tugging at your hair to get you to release him from your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to be inside you," he breathes, helping you up before he slides his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting you up in one swift motion. "Need this pussy," he mutters, pressing you against the wall to grind his cock against your sopping folds.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning as he grinds into you, welcoming his lips against yours. He reaches down to align his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing into you with a guttural moan.

"F-fucking Christ, you feel so good," he groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he starts thrusting into you, his cock filling you up like nothing and no one else can.

Having him inside you is something you'll never get tired of, his cock fitting in you like you were moulded just for him. You were made for him, and he was made for you. His thrusts make your head spin, the steam coming from the shower making everything feel more romantic, more intense.

"You're perfect," he sighs, his voice almost too quiet to hear if it weren't for the fact that his words are whispered directly into your ear. "So...so beautiful..."

All you can do in return is moan and whimper as his thrusts get deeper, the pleasure getting stronger. You lose all ability to form a coherent sentence, your eyes squeezing shut as he pounds into you. He slides his tongue into your mouth, gently digging his teeth into your bottom lip, giving it a little tug.

His thrusts start getting faster, sloppier, an indication of his impending high. Your own orgasm starts creeping closer, his cock hitting that special spot inside you that makes you turn to mush. "Oh my God, don't stop...so...so close..."

"Me too, baby...gonna cum s-so hard..."

He thrusts harder, hitting that same spot over and over again, his nails digging into your flesh. The coil in your stomach tightens, threatening to snap with each deep thrust. The air is thick with passion and desire, your body trembling in his hold, your moans bouncing off the wet bathroom walls.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans deeply, holding onto your thigh while his free arm wraps around your waist, holding onto you like you're his oxygen supply. "Oh f-fuck, ___!"

A few sloppy thrusts and your walls start spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He paints your walls with thick white ropes of pleasure, his arms clutching your body like you might disappear into thin air.

"Holy sh-shit," he sighs, both of you slowly coming down from your high, giving you a few slow thrusts before pulling out, letting his cum leak out of you.

You're completely spent, smiling like a giddy schoolgirl, your cheeks flushed, your heart hammering in your chest. The warm water runs over your bodies, slowly bringing your brain back down to earth. "Let's just stay like this for a little while," you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your hands before pressing a light kiss to his swollen lips.

"Okay," he smiles, pressing soft pecks over your cheeks, your nose, your chin. He brushes some of your wet hair out of your face, looking at you like you hung the stars in his sky.

He slowly puts you down and reaches for your body wash, lathering some on your loofah. You're about to take it from him but he stops you. "Let me."

You look up into his eyes, seeing how much this means to him. Sex is one thing, but what you do after says everything. He doesn't just want the sex, and neither do you. He doesn't want this moment to end here, and neither do you, so you let him lather your body in the fragrant body wash because this is about so much more than sex.

He washes you with so much care, making sure the soap reaches every inch of your body. The last man you let wash you after sex was Sunghoon, but with Jungkook it somehow feels different. His hands are softer, he touches you more gently, and his gaze travels down your body like you're a work of art and he is lucky enough to get to lay his eyes upon you. It's difficult to just forget about the past and the heartbreak, but in this moment with Jungkook, you want to try to take the steps to move forward.

You rinse yourself off under the hot stream of water before taking his loofah from the shower hook and lathering it with your body wash, returning the favour. You run the soapy loofah over his body, running your free hand over his muscles, a soft smile settling onto both of your faces. You run your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the firm flesh. You lean in and press a soft kiss to the area, kissing all the way up to his lips.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just kissing under the warm water, the steam surrounding your bodies, partially blurring your vision. This level of intimacy feels so different and new to the two of you, and yet it feels so right, like you were always meant to be with him like this, like you were born to be loved by him.

You love him, and it feels like too big of a mouthful to say in this moment, too heavy on your tongue, too frightening for your brain to comprehend, so you keep it stored away for the time being. Admitting it to yourself is enough for now.

You stand kissing under the water until it starts turning cold, so you turn it off and step out. He dries you off with a fresh towel before moving onto himself, letting you dry his hair with your hairdryer. The two of you get ready for bed together, which again, is new for you. You stand next to him and brush your teeth, stealing glances at him in the mirror every chance you get.

You change into a t-shirt and panties and slip into bed with him, facing him while he languidly rubs your back beneath your shirt, his body bare except for a fresh pair of boxers. He smells like your body wash, like his skin has been stained by you.

"___, about what I said on the beach," he murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip.

"What about it?" you ask nervously, seeking his eyes for any sign that he regrets it.

"I meant every word I said," he whispers, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

"I know, Jungkook," you murmur, your voice barely reaching his ears before your lips seek out his in the dark room.

He kisses you until you're too sleepy to kiss back anymore, and when you fall asleep in his arms without protesting, your face reflecting how peaceful you feel, he finally rests. He knows what you're too afraid to say out loud, and he doesn't need to hear it from your lips to know that it's real.

He will continue to love you in silence until you're ready to be loved out loud.

The next morning, you wake up to sound of the waves crashing, the birds chirping, and the feeling of the sun on your face and Jungkook's lips on your cheek. You have to admit it's a damn good way to wake up.

"Morning," he mumbles, his voice still laced with sleep, the deep rumble going straight through your body. You've never had a thing for the 'morning voice' guys tend to exaggerate to sound sexy, but damn. He could read your grocery list after waking up and you'd get down on your knees for him.

"Morning," you smile, your eyes still feeling too heavy to open fully.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Really good," you murmur softly, holding the side of his jaw in the palm of your hand, feeling his warm skin. "You?"

"I slept amazing last night," he grins, his hand slowly sliding down your thigh to hook it over his hip, letting you feel his bulge.

At that, your eyes open, letting out a sleepy chuckle. "Someone's up early," you tease. "Is 'little Jungkook' excited to see me?"

"Don't call him little, it'll hurt his feelings," he groans, pressing his face into your neck as he rolls you onto your back, laying his weight on you. He presses a few lazy kisses to your neck, slowly grinding his hips into you. "He's big and manly."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you murmur, sighing as the head of his cock rubs over your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. You loosely wrap your arms around his neck, letting your eyes flutter shut once more. "Maybe his lady friend can apologize for me."

"Yeah? Is she awake?"

"Mm...she's definitely awake."

"I should get her ready first," he whispers, pressing a final kiss to your neck before pulling away to pull your t-shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

"She's a little lower down, you know," you chuckle, biting your bottom lip as he starts kissing your breasts, enveloping a nipple in his warm, wet mouth.

"I know," he mumbles with your nipple in his mouth, giving it a suck and a little nibble before switching to the other side. "I just wanted to give my girls some attention too."

"Your...your girls?" You sigh in pleasure as he sucks on your nipple, running your fingers through his messy hair.

"Mm...my precious babies," he smiles, planting a kiss to your sternum before making his descent down your body, his head disappearing under the duvet.

He spreads your thighs to accommodate his shoulders, not bothering to remove your panties. He simply pulls them aside and starts pressing soft, feather-like kisses to your clit. He knows you're still sleepy, and he is too, so he takes his time, languidly licking and sucking on your clit before sliding his tongue through your slick folds, gathering some of your essence on his tongue.

"Fuck, you taste good in the morning." His voice is muffled against your pussy, the duvet drowning most of the sound, but it reaches your ears and it makes your walls clench.

He flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling moan after moan from your lips, your back arching off the mattress as he eats you out. You're not sure why, but cunnilingus feels even better when you're sleepy.

Soon enough, you're cumming on his tongue, lacking the energy to last any longer than necessary.

He crawls up to stick his head out from under the duvet, his tongue darting out to lick your slick off of his lips. "Love the taste of your pussy in the morning."

"Jesus Christ," you laugh, your cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and his filthy words. "Do you have to be so vulgar?"

"I absolutely have to be so vulgar, yes."

He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It's early and neither one of you have gotten up yet to brush your teeth, but you don't care. You kinda like the way he tastes in the morning. It's natural, it's unfiltered and, you dare say; romantic. It makes your body heat up at the thought alone.

Morning sex is always a treat, a rarity for you and him. It's slower, and softer, and you don't have to think too much because your body just does what feels good. When Jungkook pushes his cock into you and presses his lips to yours to swallow your moans, you feel like you're on cloud nine.

"You're so pretty," he whispers into your ear, his voice deep and low, his hands sliding into yours to intertwine your fingers next to your head.

"You too," you sigh, your eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts, making sure to roll his hips slowly and deeply.

"You think I'm pretty?" he grins faintly, keeping the pace nice and languid.

"S-so pretty..."

Your words pull a soft groan from within his chest, his face smooshed against your neck.

It doesn't feel like he's fucking you, but rather making love. There's no rush, the house still completely quiet in the early hours of the morning, giving him over enough time to pleasure you. The sun shines through the window, heating the skin of his bare back. His hair stands up in all directions from sleep, making him look extra soft and fluffy. He's so much more than pretty when you open your eyes to look at him. He's magnificent.

He kisses your lips as his thrusts pick up momentum, his body chasing his high. He reaches a hand down to rub circles over your clit, wanting you to finish with him, and as good as you feel, and as close as you are to cumming, you don't even care about that right now. All you care about is getting to share this intimacy with him.

He presses your body into the mattress when he cums, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist, his cock throbbing inside you.

You slide your hands around him, rubbing the skin of his back to soothe him, feeling the way his muscles flex beneath your palms.

His chest rises and falls unevenly, his whole body trembling, the feeling of pure bliss coursing through his veins. "Damn," he mumbles, his voice rough from his ragged breaths. "I might have just ejaculated my soul out of my body."

"That good?"

"So good," he chuckles, still a little breathless. "Wanna go take a shower?"

"Together?"

He leans on his elbows, looking down at you with a sheepish smile. "Yeah. Together."

You smile and push his frazzled hair out of his face, feeling your heart start to beat faster. "Okay."

The two of you take that shower together, sneaking in a few soft kisses and slow touches, trying your best not to get carried away. You kiss while you dry yourselves off and get dressed, and you kiss after brushing your teeth, and then before leaving your room to have breakfast with the rest of his friends, making sure to get in as many kisses before you have to be his "friend" again.

A part of you is sad to be leaving Jeju, but it's not the beach or the house you'll miss, although both of those things were quite nice. Instead, you'll miss opening your eyes in the morning and turning your head to see him next to you. You know that once you get home, you won't have any excuse to wake up next to him except for the fact that you're in love with him and you want to spend your mornings, your afternoons and your nights with him. That would just be insane to tell him that, so you won't, yet it's all you can think about on the plane ride back to Seoul.

He drives you home from the airport and carries your suitcase up to your apartment, handing it back to you at the door. You open the front door and walk in, expecting him to join you, but he doesn't.

"You coming in?"

"I want to but I should really get home to Bam," he sighs, giving you an apologetic smile.

That shouldn't disappoint you as much as it does. You understand, you love Bam and you know he needs his dad, even if you need his dad too.

"Right...yeah...I have to go get Miso from Jihyo's place anyway, so..."

He watches you as you try to hide your disappointment, an amused smile spreading across his face.

"Don't pout, baby," he teases.

"I'm not pouting," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "You should go, Bam-ie's waiting for you."

"Okay," he smiles, not making a move to leave just yet. "Can I get a kiss?"

"I don't know, can you?"

He scoffs and steps forward, cupping your face and pressing a few quick kisses to your mouth. "Before I leave," he murmurs against your lips. "I have a question I've been meaning to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Will you be my date to Joon and Mai's wedding?"

Your disappointment is replaced with surprise and an overwhelming heat that starts to spread throughout your chest, bringing a flush to your cheeks.

"O-okay," you murmur shyly, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Yeah? Gonna wear a pretty dress for me?"

His smile and his words almost turn your knees to jello, but you manage to keep yourself composed, at least on the outside.

"Yeah."

"You gonna let me take the pretty dress off afterwards?"

"Yeah," you whisper, smiling as he presses another lingering kiss to your mouth, your hands holding onto his shirt to steady yourself.

"Good. I'll see you later, yeah?" He nudges your nose with his, his smile not faltering as he pulls away, sliding his hand down your arm until it reaches your hand, giving it a little squeeze before slowly releasing it.

"Yeah...see you later," you smile, watching him walk down the hall.

He walks until he reaches the elevator, pressing the button and stepping inside. He turns around to look at you down the hall, blowing you a quick kiss as the doors close. You have to wait until the elevator is fully closed before you let out a squeal, feeling like you're sixteen again.

< Part 4 || Part 6 >>

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