The Silver Spoon Net.

Soon enough, everything piled onto each other. The smell of coffee and the smile of a customer weren’t enough to mask the tremble of your hands, the dullness of your smile and the short naps you would take during your break. You moved robotically at work, the smiles you’d offer your customers merely a well crafted mask. It seemed to do the trick, until a lonely writer decided to stop by your cafe and order an unusual amount of coffee and an even more unusual amount of sugary treats. You silently got to work on his order, first the coffee shots to go into the americano and cappuccino, but your eyes were following his every move. His mid length hair, bangs covering his forehead in curls that made it look shaggier than intended, his high nose bridge that offered him an air of finesse despite the long brown trench haphazardly thrown over a deep green silk shirt. You took it all in. He exuded mysteriousness but if you were to throw in your two cents, you would have placed your bets on him being an artist.

“Would you like them put in a bag?” You called for his attention as you packaged the three slices of cake he’d ordered. Broken out of his thoughts he jumped slightly at your voice, “Huh?” You pointed to his order, trying your hardest to hide your amusement.

“Ah!” His overly expressive response was so dramatic you couldn’t help yourself, and the laugh you’d been holding back slips out. He looked embarrassed for a second before a boxy smile took over and you swore you saw the most beautiful piece of art in your life. His bright smile and his unruly hair made you think of a pet dog who has just been praised, for a split second you almost peeked around him looking for a tail.

“So, bag? No bag?” You offered again, “it can’t be too easy to carry all these to your friends.” You assumed but when he shakes his head making the curls sitting atop his forehead bounce your hand stops reaching for a bag.

“Ah, no that is for staying in.” He points behind him in the general direction of the tables. You nod in acknowledgement humming to yourself.

“Would you like me to wait until your friends join you before I make the drinks? They are definitely better when they are freshly made.” You wink at him, his response immediate as you spy his cheeks turning red. Giving you an embarrassed smile he laughs.

“Ah no, they’re all for me, actually.” The redness of his cheeks deepens.

Not one to judge you shrug at him offering a reassuring look. “Hey, nothing bad about that. As soon as I started working here I decided to sample everything off the menu.” As you say that your eyes widen comically making him mirror you. Leaning over the counter as if to share a secret with him you whisper, “for research purposes of course.” He is silent for a moment before he bursts into laughter. His laugh is deep, just like his voice, the timbre of it causing an explosion of butterflies in your stomach.

Turning your back to him to finish his drinks, you miss the way his eyes take you in, his gaze lingering on every single one of your features, committing them to memory. Months later, Taehyung would admit to you that it was the first time his heart had started beating like that; as if it would pop out of his chest, and when you turned back around to hand him his order and you smiled at him, he knew he couldn’t afford to let you slip through his fingers.

“There you go.” You slid the tray towards him, a warm smile on your face. Caught staring he coughed and took the tray with a quick thank you, before rushing off to take a seat by the window. Following his movements you smile softly to yourself, he was an interesting character and you wouldn’t say no to getting to know him better.

For once your smile was genuine; and to your surprise, for the first time the future seemed colourful.

======

He knew now that this was not how it was supposed to go. The fights, the arguments, everything in between. It was all he could think of, every little spiteful word you said to each other, every little hurtful comment; it all led to this moment. The moment when you said goodbye to him.

He was not a good person. He’d never been one, never tried to be either. He couldn’t even call himself a person, not when he still held onto his status as a paid assassin. Until he met you, he was content with the reds and blues that coloured his days. The duality of his life seemed like a joke even to him. At night when the skies would become dark, and the stars would guard the moon - he was always angry, always ready to cause a fight. He was always ready to rip into anyone. It was his pent up anger ready to burst out of him, and he took it out on his targets.

On the other hand, during the day, he was a gentle writer, calm and barely raised his voice at anyone. The two personas clashed so much that sometimes he felt as if he was living two lives in parallel universes. The writer and the assassin. That was him, Kim Taehyung.

When he met you, everything melted into one. His calm demeanour suddenly turned into excitement, his excitement turned into fear, his aggression turned into precaution. He knew he shouldn’t have dragged anyone into this mess he called a life. Yet, he couldn’t stop his heart from yearning for you. He couldn’t stop himself when he asked you out on that first date; and for the first time in his whole career, he missed a job.

He didn’t show up to take down the man he’d been paid to kill. All because he was too preoccupied with fretting over whether or not he should grab your hand that night. He did not look in the face of death, because he was too busy staring at your face biting his lip in nervousness as he leant in to kiss you. All he could think of that night as he held you close, body moulded into him, hearts beating together in tandem was - thank God.

=======

He should have known that good things were never meant to last, he needed the money, he needed the rush of adrenaline his job provided. He craved the thrill of the danger coursing through his veins to feel alive. He needed to know that the world was free of assholes and most importantly he needed to keep you- his lifeline, safe. There was no end to his job and no end to his anger. Not even when he held you in his arms, his breath slowing down to the rhythm of your heart. He itched to fight and the dark side of his life would win.

When he was certain you’d fallen asleep he would slowly detangle himself from you, and with a soft kiss to your temple he would leave, pulled in by the thrill of the black and greys of a new job offer.

You weren’t ignorant, you knew that he was hiding something from you. You could feel it in the way his hands trembled as he caressed your face, you could feel it in the hesitant way he kissed your lips before he left the house at night and you happened to be awake. You weren’t ignorant, but you willingly chose to ignore it. Until you woke up one night to the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. Unbothered by the coldness of your apartment you jumped out of bed, concern written all over your face.

“Tae?” Your voice croaked from lack of use, and you felt your hands tremble with panic. The sounds became more and more apparent as you approached the small bathroom that the two of you shared. Guided by the light creeping out of the small crack in the door you found him easily. Peeking through you spotted his hunched up form, lying over the sink, shoulders squared and shaking from the effort of his heaving. The pitter patter of the water running from the tap echoed like a waterfall in your skull.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. So, so, so sorry.” You could barely make out his words, the syllables punctuated by heaves and you almost barged in, your instincts yelling at you to embrace him and comfort him. when he spoke again you realised he was not addressing you directly.

“I promised I would stop, for your sake, for mine, for our future. I just–“ his fist made contact with the tiles and you jumped back at the sound. “– I can’t do it, I can’t keep away from this. Not for all the colours in the world.” His voice cracked, his shoulders shaking violently. You stood there completely frozen, your heart suspended in your throat, claws made of ice digging at it. You didn’t realise your trembling hands had reached to push the door open until it creaked open at the slight pressure against it.

The violent jolt of his body at the sound of you calling out his name told you he was not expecting anyone to enter. You paused in your step, your heart constricting at the sight of him. You’ve never witnessed Taehyung display anything but a calm and poised manner, however, this time he looked so small and vulnerable you immediately rushed to him. You didn’t care about your knees bruising as you fell in front of him, you didn’t care that he was desperately trying to pull away from you, his harsh words reassuring you that he was fine. Taking a hold of his hands, pulling at his shirt as if he was trying to conceal something from you, you shushed him gently as you would a child. You didn’t care that, as you took his face in your hands, your thumbs rubbing away at his tears, you also rubbed away at blood.

“Taehyung, please look at me.” Your grip on him lessened and he pulled away forcefully.

“I am fine.” He pointedly reassured, the coldness in his voice making you reel back so suddenly you lost your balance. Falling onto your backside didn’t hurt as much as his words pierced at your heart. You’ve never heard him talk like that with anyone, let alone with you.

“Taehyung, please talk to me.” Scalding tears ran down your face and you wiped at them carelessly, uncaring. “P-ple-ase.” You hiccuped from the pain of seeing him turn his face away from you. “What did you do?” The pain you felt turned into fear. Fear for him and what he was hiding from you. Looking at him you realised you didn’t know him, he may have been the one intended for you, but at that moment all you saw was a stranger.

His eyes were wide, his breathing laboured; the way you demanded an explanation caught him by surprise. Seeing the determination in your eyes he knew then that he was close to losing you. That was something he could not afford.

“Y/N, I… You trust me right? You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m not who I used to be and I won’t ever go back to it.” He pulled you to him, his hands shaking. You tried your best to ignore the metallic stench that emanated off of him, mingling in your nostril until it mixed with the memory of his own smell in your brain.

“I do trust you, Taehyung. I need you to trust me too.” It hurt to say what you’d felt for a long time. Your friends pointed out he was acting odd and you were quick to dismiss it, but deep down you knew that something was wrong. Little by little no matter the time you spent together, the colours dimmed until they became as muted as an old photograph. But they were still there, and you hung onto that hope. It will get better.

Hours later, you were still in the same position, none of you uttering a word - it felt calm but somehow you were unsettled. It was too quiet, the sound of the water dripping from the tap didn’t even register in your brain, the sound of your thoughts too loud, When the numbness of having sat on the cold floor for so long settled over your bodies, you softly pulled him towards the living room; a sigh of relief escaping you at the feel of the soft carpet against your frozen toes.

“Dance with me.” It was not the request that surprised you as much as the pleading tone in his voice did. You pulled away from him as much as he would allow, his hands still wrapped around your waist grabbing at your pyjama top.

“Tae, you’re not well. You should sleep.” Trying to reason with him felt like an impossible task when he brought you closer to him, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Please.” He breathed. The desperate cry for help in his voice made you pause. Biting your lip, your feelings in conflict with each other, you nodded. You’d give him the world if he asked, if only to see him smile once more. Because without his smile, your world didn’t exist.

That night you danced in your empty living room, the cold air nipping at your feet, heated bodies intertwined. You never questioned him on his night, nor did you question the lack of colour in your life as you rested your head on his chest, waltzing to the rhythm of his heartbeat. When you closed your eyes, your hand firmly gripped by his, the red smears on his collarbone were all you could envision.

=====

You knew that it was soon to be over; the warm smiles, the secret touches, the pads of your fingers brushing against each other. You could feel it in the hugs that would end up with you, a giggling mess swept off your feet, the loving stares, the kisses you would steal from each other during your short break. You knew, behind all that, there was heartbreak lurking, waiting to strike. Your foundation was not strong enough to hold everything up.

That night when the phone rang at 11pm on dot, you did not hesitate to answer. As soon as you picked up the phone, your heart started pounding in your chest. It was an evil that needed to be done, but you felt like you were suffocating. “Hello?” His deep voice greeted you on the other end. You did not respond for a second, taking a deep breath in to recollect yourself. “Hello?” He hesitantly tried again. “Taehyung.” You breathed shakily. It was as if your body was aware of the mistake you were about to make. If the pool of tears gathering in your eyes wasn’t a clear sign you did not know what could be. You heard his sharp inhale over the line, he knew you never called him by his full name. Ever since he told you his name, even before dating, you always called him Tae. In fact, you couldn’t remember if you’d ever called him Taehyung. But this time, the name just escaped through your lips.

“Y/N? Is everything ok?” Even though you couldn’t see him you could read the hesitation in his voice. That knowledge only made a fresh pool of tears spill out of your eyes.You closed your eyes allowing the hot trails to make their way out of their confines, and onto the apples of your cheeks.

“Tae, can we talk?” Your breath was shaky, all the pent up emotions threatening to overflow. The silence that greeted you for a few seconds made your nervousness skyrocket. “Of course.” His voice was calm and levelled and for a second the despair that gripped at your heart gave way to anger. How could he be so composed, you were not asking him about the weather, why was his demeanour so serene. It was infuriating, especially after you’ve fretted the whole day about how to approach the subject. Instead of voicing your displeasure you only huffed, “meet at the usual?” He hummed in approval and you ended the call without waiting to see if he had more to add.

Even though it was late, the sight of the green grass near your accommodation felt like home to you. Each night you would come here and meet with Taehyung, share hopes and dreams in the dark of the night with nothing but the trees as your witnesses. The empty playground near the benches where you’d normally cuddle called for you. So, with a quick stride, you sat yourself on the seesaw, its position giving you a good vantage point. Taehyung was easy to spot, his tall stature dredging through the wet grass with a confident stride. Watching him make his way towards you, in all his glory, his brown trench coat billowing behind him, you felt your breath catch in your throat. His hair tousled as if he’d ran his hands through it more than he should have, his eyes locked onto your form, and his self assured pace- he looked beautiful. Like a prince heading into battle. Your heart sped up and your hands clutched at your own coat in an attempt to keep them from trembling. Had you seen him for the first time that day you would have fallen- straight away. But you were already in love with him, and the feeling was mutual. A love too young, too fresh, too precious for you and your shared demons.

Stopping a couple of feet from you, Taehyung inhaled deeply. The smell of freshly cut grass and the remnants of the rain from before surrounded him. It was peaceful, similar to the calm before the storm. His eyes took you in, your hunched form, your wide eyes, glossy from unshed tears. Your countenance read sorrow, yet the love in your eyes spoke volumes to him. He felt a hot searing pain course through him, the knowledge that you still loved him did nothing to console him. On the contrary, it was fuelling the heartbreak, the uncertainty of your future was not an exciting thought to him anymore. It was pure torture.

“Tae,” you whispered, his name carried by the wind. He approached you slowly, as if he was walking on hot coals not on wet grass, each step he took calculated and weary. The corners of your mouth lifted in a sombre smile, your emotions at war with each other.

That was the first time he lost you- almost. He pleaded, he held you, as you both cried out your feelings, hidden truths poured out painting your world and soul like paint spilled in water. “Please Y/N, don’t do this. We can make it work.” He whispered in your hair, his heart breaking with each sob that wrecked through your body. “I can’t let you go, letting you go is like letting go of the only good part of myself.”

“Taehyung, every time I see you go I feel like I am losing a part of me. You never tell me anything anymore, I love you but how can I trust you?” You sounded desperate to your own ears but you didn’t care. You wanted some answers from him. Even if he spewed lies in front of your face, you needed to hear at least something.

“Please Y/N trust me, just - I can’t tell you much...all I can say is that I am working at bettering myself and the world. I want everyone to have the chance to see the colours that we can.” He explained, praying that you wouldn’t ask him for more than that.

You tasted the lie that fell off his lips in his kiss. The soft caress of his mouth against yours, breaths intermingling, wiped away any concern you may have had. You loved him too much to care about your own heart. You would break it over and over again if it meant he was happy.

When you fell asleep in his arms he held you until his arms were numb. “I am so sorry.” He whispered, promising himself he would never make the same mistake again. You were the best thing that has ever happened to him, the only good in his life, the only colour he had. He would hold onto you with all his might. And if that meant he had to carry on lying to you, then so be it.

“Ma’am, we are going to have to make some space for the couch to come in.” One of the men hired to help you move interrupted your lament and you awkwardly nodded at him, shifting from one foot to another. You would have time later to think about the mess your new house was in – if a glass of wine could make its way into your hand whilst that was happening, even better.

“If you could bring it up, I will move some things around.” You said appreciatively. As soon as the door closed after him you moaned in despair. The stacks of boxes would take you forever to move, and you certainly didn’t have any ideas of where to place the couch. You’ve barely had time to explore the place, let alone think about its interior design. If they left it in a place that was not suited for your taste later on it would be up to you and your back to move it around. And you certainly didn’t possess the strength of three grown men.

“It’s ok Y/N, you got this.” The encouragement sounded meek to your own ears, but it did its job. For the next few minutes you occupied yourself with moving boxes out of the way. Your back protested against the constant strain but you couldn’t help and let out a small shout in triumph at the sight of the mahogany floor.

So preoccupied with moving the boxes you didn’t even notice the squeak of the door as it opened fully until a gust of cold air hit your back. Shivering from the iciness of it you turned around ready to ask for some time as you weren’t done yet.

“Have you already ret–“ You stopped, a look of confusion on your face at the sight of the empty corridor. Cautiously you made your way towards it, the fleeting thought of someone playing a prank on you making you feel irked.

“Hello?” Calling out, you reached the doorway. Nothing was amiss except the lack of people or a doorstop that could hold the door open in such a way. Hand cautiously reaching out to touch the darkened wood you checked the hinges, the springs. Knowing they should have closed the door on their own, and not being able to feel the breeze anymore, you sucked in a deep breath and took a step back, your eyes widening. It was impossible for the door to stay like that, what was holding it open?

The thought of something supernatural made you scoff, you weren’t a believer, regardless of your family’s past. Not wanting to believe that anything but a fault in the mechanism could have caused the door to open and stay like that, you stepped out into the corridor.

The feeling of being submerged under water overtook your senses. You couldn’t breathe, speak or hear, everything felt muted. You shivered, the coldness making your nerves on edge. Unable to move, your limbs felt like lead, spots of white dotted your vision and you found it hard to focus on anything but your clenching stomach. You tried to call out, desperate for air, but you realised soon that your throat was constricted; your airway clenched as if someone’s hand was slowly closing over it, squeezing it like a wet rag.

With the familiar feeling of a panic attack making its way up your spine and the splotches of black painting the corner of your vision, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Eyes darting along the corridor searching for something to help, they settled on the far end of the corridor where you spotted the men bringing up your couch. Upon hearing them shout instructions at each other you almost sighed in relief before attempting to call out to them– nothing but a gargle to your ears which didn’t manage to get their attention.

Panicked you willed yourself to move, to try to get at least one foot out of the door, your brain somehow knowing that whatever was immobilising you had a direct link to it. The movers were getting closer and closer to you and you felt your knees shake underneath you. They didn’t seem to notice you as the man facing your way looked at you, you noticed his eyes glazed over, as if…as if he was looking through you.

Desperately your eyes darted back towards the apartment, hoping to find something that could aid you. The sight that greeted you made you pause. The man sitting in the middle of your open lounge, casually leaning against a stack of boxes, his tousled black hair covering his forehead in soft waves, framing his deep onyx eyes. Eyes that were trained on you, a smirk pulling at his plush lips, something dark painted on his soft features. If you would’ve gasped if you could. He looked ethereal, alabaster skin almost glowing in the artificial lights bathing the room, yet his presence exuded darkness and danger. Still smirking at you he pushed himself off of the stack of boxes, eyes locked on yours as he languidly licked his lips.

“It isn’t nice when you’re not able to move is it?” He never opened his mouth, his lips still trained in a mischievous smirk, but somehow you knew that the smooth soft voice belonged to him. Gulping with difficulty you went to open your mouth, forgetting for one second you were restrained. “Nuh uh,” the tut echoing through your head was followed by an airy laugh. It would’ve sounded beautiful if not for the dark tone seeping through it like ink blotting on a piece of paper. “Good try puppet, but you can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m through with you.” His voice promised a dreary ending and your spine stiffened as you shivered.

Taking a few steps towards you, his face dropped into an unemotional mask – long gone was his smirk and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. Smirk gone you could easily drink in his almond eyes, and his smooth skin so white it made it seem like the light was passing straight through it. You felt entranced as you followed every step he took towards you. His movements were smooth and natural yet there seemed to be a trail behind his movements, as if he was too fast for your eyes to catch. It made him seem so fluid that it almost transcended reality. Unknowingly, you let a whimper escape as he got closer and if you’d blinked you would’ve missed the way his face morphed into a snarl.

“You don’t get to play victim here Y/N.” This time his mouth moved with the words making your heart clench at the ominous tone in his voice. “You have sins to pay for.” He was closer - so close that you could see the lashes framing his eyes. You couldn’t move your body so instead you tried to turn your head away. Almost crying in relief when you found that you could, you closed your eyes. forcing the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes to trail onto your cheeks, your mind pleading for this to end.

“Ah, little Y/N is scared, good. You can pray however much you want. There is no escape.” In hindsight, you should have never turned your face away from him. You’d hoped that if you didn’t see him, he would disappear like a figment of your imagination. When you felt the cold brush of something against your neck you gasped wanting to look back but finding that you were completely trapped. “You’re now in my territory.” The coldness wrapped around your neck. It felt as if you’d put on a choker that was left in the fridge for too long; it clung to your skin, it burnt.

“Good luck.” The tight feeling around your neck felt suffocating and it took you a second to realise that it wasn’t ice, the imprint of it tightening on your skin felt like fingers – he was choking you. Before you could react, the feeling of being trapped underwater and the heaviness in your limbs let up, and your ability to breathe returned. A strong breeze passed through you, almost knocking you over. At the same time the lights down the corridor fizzed and flickered. The unexpected sound of them exploding made you jump, the loud crash causing your knees to buckle, and you lowered yourself to the ground. With half of the lights in your apartment gone you could barely make out the end of the corridor, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was there. And he was waiting. Seokjin.

=====

“Ma’am. Could you please move out of the entrance? We can’t bring the couch in if you are blocking the way.” For what it felt like the umpteenth time that day, you jumped feeling your heart take refuge in your throat. Blinking you realised you could not only move, but you’d never even crossed the threshold nor fallen to the ground. Eyes raking across the room you noticed that nothing was amiss, the lights were working and intact and there was no beautiful danger anywhere in sight. You’d been standing still in the middle of your entrance. You went to turn around to apologise when you realised the feeling of your hands unclenching hurt as if you’d been doing that for a long time.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way now. Just drop it wherever.” You apologised to the slightly miffed men watching you with mild irritation. You reveled in your ability to move, breathing a sigh of relief, as you got out of the entranceway.

Watching as they brought the couch in, your eyes barely focused on anything of substance, your mind too preoccupied with undoing the puzzle of what just happened earlier. You could easily deem it to be your imagination – and you would’ve, if not for the name stuck on your tongue like honey setting your body on fire. Seokjin.

Diary entry #40

They’ve not allowed me to see her but I got a glimpse as they transferred me to a different cell. Even from afar she looked so beautiful like a flower in full bloom on a sunny spring day. She was warm, she made me happy. I wanted to go to her but those wretched bastards only laughed at me as I begged on my knees to be allowed to see her. They dragged me by the neck. But they don’t know. They don’t. Just wait until I have theirs.

=====

The slight anxiety that gripped you when the movers finished bringing everything up and left, should have been a good indication to pick up your phone and call a friend. Regardless of what happened, or didn’t happen- as you kept trying to convince yourself, the house was unfamiliar territory. Its cream coloured walls, accentuated by the mahogany floors, combined with the wide entryways and tall ceilings, were by far what you’d call comfortable.

Your grandmother passed it on to you, her sole inheritor, but she’d never once mentioned an apartment of this size - and you could barely even remember visiting your grandmother in your childhood. As an adult, you’d moved away for work and never looked back. If that didn’t scream broken family you didn’t know what else did. You didn’t know much about your family, immediate or removed. Not ones to talk about themselves much, nothing worthwhile was mentioned during your make believe family reunions, and so you rarely bothered to ask.

Looking around the room, you sighed at the sheer amount of work you’d have to do. The boxes that once pretended to be stacked neatly were haphazardly scattered round - you immediately spied the one labelled kitchen sitting on its side and rushed to set it straight hoping nothing smashed. Tired and overwhelmed, you sat down on the couch – the couch that never ended up where it was meant to. Instead it was carelessly left crooked in the middle of the living room like a totem. You wanted nothing more than to sleep but a slight remnant of fear from your earlier experience nagged you to stay awake at least until dawn.

Glancing at your watch you felt the pull of sleep at your eyelids. Combined with the familiarity of the couch, if not the room, you conceded that you could maybe take a short nap. Curling in on yourself, you felt your body relax; tendrils of sleep made their way into your tired thoughts and a familiar haze engulfed you. Earlier you were cold, as the stale air in the apartment was not warmed up by the heating. Whereas in that moment, you felt warm as if a blanket had been placed over you. Your eyelids drooped to the rhythmic tik tok coming from the grandfather clock down the corridor. You basked in the sound for a second, until, through muddled thoughts, you realised it was increasing in tempo, now accompanied by a tap in the pipes and…whistling?

The familiarity of the tune was enough to awaken you, but no matter how much you tried to pull yourself out of sleep you found that you couldn’t. What was it? Hamlet? No. Danse Macabre! Leaded limbs and head stuffed with cotton balls, you could only be still as you tried in vain to convince yourself it was your overactive imagination combined with the day’s strenuous activity. Surely it was the old piping system. That, or the wind from outside making its way through the unseen cracks in the windows; your mind could’ve conjured the rhythm to a classical piece you’ve heard more than once. As the sound of the pipes’ metallic banging increased in volume you desperately shut your eyes, hoping that you would fall asleep somehow. You could deal with the apartment’s disrepair, and your regret about moving in, later.

Dots of white danced behind your eyelids, and you could feel the goosebumps rising on your skin from the cold air that caressed you through your clothes. Shifting as much as the heaviness in your body would allow, you fought to get yourself more comfortable, the soft couch against your back. The light touch of air against your ankles crawling further up made you jolt your leg. You felt awake with thoughts rushing through your brain but muddled with the desire to let yourself sleep.

“Oh come on.” Mumbling into your arm, you shook your legs again bringing them closer to you. Lying on your back now, with your feet planted firmly onto the couch, knees bent as you crossed your ankles, you hoped this would protect you from the chill permeating the house. You refused to get up and try to fix the heating – not until you had a satisfying amount of sleep and some food in the morning.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the banging had stopped. You smiled in relief- Peace. “Finally, I can sleep.”

“Think again, little lamb.” Jerking on spot at the familiar voice, you tried to sit up, only to find yourself unable to move once more. Eyes wide open, you looked around looking for its source, until you zoned in on the intruder.

Him. You opened your mouth to speak but only a garbled whimper made its way past your lips.

“Shhh, Y/N, you don’t have to speak. Just feel.” His voice was enticing, the way his lips moved with each syllable enraptured you, and you closed your mouth obediently. You tried to squirm in hopes of breaking free from whatever was holding you down. But his tut drew your attention towards him once more. He was beautiful with his red blood lips, white skin and eyes as piercing as lightning. You were so bewitched by him that you were too late to realise that the ticklish feeling you’d felt along your ankle was not the draft coming in through the windows. Crawling its way past the inside of your knee, slowly tracing the soft skin underneath your clothes, you shivered. Glancing down, you almost missed the mist that enveloped your whole body. On closer inspection, you could see the way it bent and trailed across your clothes, within the opening of your trousers, almost moulding to the nooks, moving like water - slowly but surely reaching higher and higher up your leg.

A breathy moan made its way past your lips when it reached the inner part of your thigh, a sensitive spot for you. The sensation was too much for you and you tried vain to move away. As your breathing came out in raspy pants, your eyes found the man once more, silently pleading - for what you didn’t know. The more you felt caressed in intimate places the more you didn’t want it to stop.

“Please.” You stuttered, the spark of joy at being able to talk gone in a flash as the airy tendrils reached the edge of your underwear tracing the seams not quite touching you where you needed it.

The ethereal man smiled crudely at you, his darkening eyes piercing right through yours. “Say my name, pet.” He demanded and you glanced at him confusedly. “You know it, you must have heard of me.” He insisted and you opened your mouth to admit to his statement.

“Seokjin.” Gasping in surprise you shut your lips tightly. At the same time you felt the pressure against your pussy lips increase in response to the name. It reached right above your panties slightly teasing your inflamed clit causing sparks to travel up your spine in pleasure. “I–“ You could barely think, the sensation of your panties slowly being teased, the hems being lifted slightly to allow more room. When the material clung to your mound you whimpered in shame, eyes flitting around the room. You realised how wet you were already, and only from the ghost-like touches.

“Eyes on me, pet. I need to see you, I need to watch the shame in your eyes as you come for your worst enemy.” Confused at his words but unable to produce anything but a wanton moan you felt the pressure move from your mons to your clit. The slight thrumming and rhythmic circles that the tendrils were subjugating you to, created goosebumps on your skin.

Even if your eyes snapped back to Seokjin you barely noticed when he moved, the speed with which he did was too fast for your eyes to catch. Smirking down at your flabbergasted expression he knelt down by the side of the couch dangerously close to your immobile legs. Surprised but still under the spell of the sexual ministrations, you resisted the urge to let yourself succumb to the pure unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Let go little lamb, let me control your needs. Look at you, so desperate for release. You’re so wet I can smell you.” Seokjin sang enticingly and for a moment you found yourself ready to let go, your head loling backwards as a loud moan was ripped out of your throat.

“Seokjin, please just-“ You couldn’t finish the sentence, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. To fuck you? To make you come? To let you go? All these were running through your head, the second of clarity gone as the light touches against your clit became increasingly insistent, pushing on the nub, rubbing it side to side, making you squirm at the tightness you felt in your abdomen. Your own slickness became louder and louder to your ears and you let your head drop completely as you pushed your hips upwards in an attempt to increase the pressure onto your pussy.

“Ah little lamb, that’s it, let yourself go. I want to see your beautiful pussy as you come for me.” His words barely made it through your pleasure riddled brain. When you felt your clothes being removed from you, the sensation of molten chocolate once again caressing your skin as if you were bathing in it, you lifted your head. The surprise of seeing your clothes just melt away from your body didn’t deter from the way your pussy clenched, it added to it. You didn’t know whether it was a dream or not but your brain decided it didn’t matter, its sole goal was to release the tension you’ve been feeling for weeks. And if all it took was a hallucination of yours, you would more than happily take it.

“Ah look at you, so wet and so ready for me. You’re so eager and look so delectable that I can’t resist you, pet.” Seokjin hummed in appreciation and for a second he looked less angry, the smile of satisfaction making him look younger, freer. He was attractive, and you voiced that out loud without a second thought.

“You’re beautiful.” You mused breathily regretting from the moment you watched his face morph from a smile to a grimace.

“Stop!” He yelled out. The anger radiating off him seeped through you, cold and ruthless like the winter wind. “Do not call me that!” At the venom in his voice you wanted to reel back, but, unable to move, you settled for closing your eyes as a shiver ran down your spine.

“It seems like you need to be reminded, pet, that I am not here to please you. I am here to hurt you, make you scream until your throat goes raw, make you beg for release. Just like I begged for mine.” Seokjin spat out. “Now look at me!” Your eyes flew open at his demand, the harsh slap against your thigh. You wanted to protest, rebel against his hold on you, but the cold touch of his fingers on your heated skin and the constant pressure on your clit were making it hard for you to think of anything but the fire coursing through you. Bucking your hips, you bit your lip and moaned as you locked eyes with his dark obsidian ones.

Smirking in satisfaction he dug his fingers into your skin. For a moment you sputtered realising how pale he was close up, and if you squinted at him hard enough you could see the outline of the boxes behind him. Confused for a moment you disconnected from what was happening around you, your mind reeling with possibilities.

“What are you?” You whispered. Trying in vain to lift yourself onto your arms to get a better look at him you gasped when you felt the coldness wrap around your wrists, holding you in place. Ripping your eyes off of his you spotted the wispy coils tightly secured around your arms, tight enough for you to feel the pressure, but not to hurt you.

“Later pet,” Seokjin hummed, eyes flitting between your face and your wet pussy. “Now you’re going to watch me as I taste you.” Gasping not only at his words but the intrusion between your cunt, his fingers separating them as he basked in how wet you were, and all for him.

“Fuck, wait–“ Your hips jolted as the two fingers found your entrance and plunged in without a warning. The squelch of your pussy as his fingers pumped in and out mercilessly and the sight of his hooded lustful eyes watching it as if it was the most delectable meal made you moan. The shame of your wanton abandon made you hotter, edging your orgasm on. “Ah, Seokjin.” You cried out fighting to keep your eyes on him.

At the mention of his name, he roughly pushed his fingers in as far as they would go, making you instinctively want to lift your hips up, forgetting about the weight of the mist holding you down. “Do not say my name, not when you’re moaning my name like a whore, it’s Master to you pet. Understood?” Glancing at you for a second, his free hand pinching the side of your hips he waited, fingers stationary in you. The feel of him so deep within but unmoving, made your walls clamp around him, desperate to feel the friction again.

“Understood?” He asked again, his voice expressing the lack of patience at your unresponsiveness. Nodding at him, you knew it was the wrong response when the fingers that still dug into the side of your hips painfully pressed harder making you yelp. “Out loud.”

“Yes… Master.” The words, as degrading as they sounded to you, served their purpose and you sighed when his hard eyes softened, his fingers resuming their activity within your hungry pussy. Realising you were getting more turned on by the minute, Seokjin’s dominance over you– a catalyst, you moaned out in shame. His fingers were filling you up and the friction was enough to set you on fire.

He pumped them mercilessly within you, a hungry look in his eyes; the need to see you fall apart under him; the need to see you suffer in pleasure, fuelling his rage. Not stopping his ministrations, not even when you begged him for more, your slick walls craved to be touched and handled rougher. You were reaching the edge of release when slowed down, lazily feeling you, his fingers slowly pistoning in and out.

“Seokjin, please, I’m close.” You whimpered, raising your hips as much as you could to match his movement.

His eyes trailed up to yours slowly, the hungry look tainted by a spark of pure pleasure. He enjoyed seeing you suffer. Pulling out of you, he presented to you the fingers that were once in your pussy, the wetness shining in the overhead light. Everything went quiet, you couldn’t even hear the sound of the old pipes barely withstanding the water passing through them, and for a second you remembered you were dreaming, this was not real. Ashamed at yourself for being so lewd you wanted to look away but could only blink enraptured as he lazily traced them over your stomach, leaving wet trails all the way back down to your cunt.

“So beautiful. Such a shame.” He whispered to himself and before you could question his words, his fingers pressed onto your sensitive nub once more making you arch your hips in surprise. The hand on your thigh tightened its grip, holding you in place preventing you from reaching your high.

“You’re not coming until I say so, pet.” He chuckled at your distress, disregarding your pleading look. Not giving you a break, he continuously played with your clit, rubbing it back and forth making you tremble in pleasure. “I want you on the verge. I want to see the satisfaction in your eyes when you're close to the edge.” He paused his movements, his eyes glinting with mischief as he licked his lips. Breath caught in your throat you gulped anxious to know what he would say but also desperate for him to keep touching you. When he descended his mouth over your mound you didn’t even bother holding in your sob of pleasure. His tongue parting your folds prodding you, slurping every bit of wetness you had to offer. He relentlessly drank you in, his tongue fucking into you harder than anyone’s done.

The tremors in your muscles were not giving up and you knew you were close. If he carried on he’d set you over the edge, the ball of pleasure tightening in your abdomen ready to be released. Still held tight onto the couch, your hands gripped at anything they could.

“Seok– master, I can’t–“ you whimpered, unable to stop yourself.

Hearing the despair in your voice he glanced at you, his mouth still on your pussy, savouring you as if he was a starved man. True to his promise, as soon as he felt you clench around his tongue, he retreated completely. Both of his hands gripped your thighs, preventing you from moving.

Sobbing in despair, you squirmed to get your hands free to touch yourself. You were so close, almost ready to go over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. But now as he left you alone, open to the cold air around you, your hands still unable to move, you couldn't do anything but whine as your cunt muscles clenched around air. You wanted to beg for your own release, yet you couldn't find the words necessary in between your desperate sobs and his touch on your thighs that spread you further open, smearing your wetness all over your sensitive skin.

The hunger in his eyes intensified as he took in your glistening pussy, the feeling of your muscles trembling under his touch giving him the satisfaction that he needed. He could feel how hard he was for you, yet he promised himself he would not seek his own release yet. He had no need to breathe, but the smell of you was so strong around him that he couldn’t help himself but inhale deeply, his nose buried in your folds, the tip almost touching your clit.

The lewd display and his actions did nothing to console you, he was not touching you as you wanted him to. Your voice was croaking as you sobbed, your fists clenching and unclenching as you squirmed around trying to feel some sort of pressure on your mound. Something to help you come.

“Maybe,” he crooned, “if you are good enough, I will let you come.” His nose still buried deep into you he punctuated each word with a small flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, Master.” Completely letting go of any inhibitions, you begged and pleaded promising you would be good, if only he’d fill you up once more - you were so close and his tongue teasing you was keeping you on edge.

Seokjin felt the anger rage within him once more and his hand came down to slap your thigh, earning a yell from you at the sting. He didn’t stop, not even when the tears streamed down your face. Mercilessly he let his palm marr the sensitive skin only stopping from time to time to caress it. Once his slaps drew closer to your mound you felt an animalistic growl leave your throat. Your brain felt fuzzy and the pain and pleasure mixed so well that you didn’t care which one you were getting - to you it was all the same.

“Fuck.” The invasion of three of his fingers in your unprepared cunt made you howl out, your walls clamping around his hand.

“That’s it little lamb, cry for me.” He cooed, the hand that was not pumping inside of you softly stroking the reddened skin that he’d just slapped. “Good girl.” He praised you, the softness of his voice shifting something inside of you.

“Now you can come.” He demanded, his lips sucking at your clit, teeth grazing the nub as he roughly scissored the three fingers that were filling you up.

“Fuck Master, I’m coming.” You cried, the edging and yout senses on fire for a while making tears pool in your eyes, slowly trickling down your face. The sensation of being bathed in cold water as your nerves burnt with your release prolonged the feeling and you sobbed a moan, muscles cramping from being under tension.

“That is it pet, you’re so beautiful like that, desperate for my touch, desperate for me. Just like I was for you.” Seokjin smiled ruefully, a spark of sadness blooming behind his eyes. If you were not crying before, you would have then as you felt a desperate need to wrap him in your arms. Reaching out, the tips of your fingers barely touching him, settling on the stray wisps of his hair, your teary eyes widened when you couldn’t feel him.

“What are you?”

Diary entry #125

She came to see me today. She hid from the guards and I couldn’t have been more proud of her. She was upset, she didn’t tell me why, but I could see it on her face – I could see from the streaks of tears that she cried well into the night. I didn’t ask, I have a feeling I know what she would say. I didn’t even talk to her. I embraced her and held her to me as I gave her my strength. We stayed like that until we could hear the shackles of the doors as the new guards came. Only then as I could see the back of her dress turning the corner did I tell her to find the grimoire.

=====

You couldn’t tell when the dream bled into reality, or if what you experienced was a figment of your sleep paralysed self. You could only feel the material of the couch against your naked lower half, the wetness that coated it making it rough against your skin. The pounding against your head felt like a jackhammer brought to your skull, and as you tried to lift yourself up, you realised how sore you felt.

Confused, in pain, and your brain still battling the shocks of the orgasm that woke you up, you let yourself fall back down onto the couch. Not moving a muscle until it suddenly felt cold once more, the fluids that coated you became sticky. All you could smell was your own cum as it dried out onto the couch and your legs. You struggled to push yourself off the couch with heavy limbs and sighed when you were greeted once more with the sight of the boxes strewn around you. You didn’t remember it to be this haphazard before you laid down to sleep – but then again you remembered very little from the previous day, the mental and physical strain blending it into a painting akin to a Dali.

I’m hurt little lamb. The melodious voice paired with the slight laughter sounded familiar, and your eyes widened. Seokjin, the beautiful but vengeful man that haunted your mind. You easily remembered the way his skin glowed as if transparent and the way he looked at you as if you were a prey. You shivered – what you mostly remembered was the tight grip he had on your ankles, holding your writhing body down as his skillful mouth on your pussy brought on your release.

Clenching your legs together trying to get a hold of your bearings, you remembered your nakedness. It surely was all a dream, it’s been a long time since you got the opportunity to release any tension; whether it be by sleeping with someone or your own fingers and shiny vibrator. It all explained why you’d conjure up such a man and such a descriptive dream so suddenly.

Never trust your mind, it will try to trick you into believing what it is easy for it to believe. You recalled what you had heard your grandmother say to you more than once. You were young and obnoxious. Not one for caring too much about an elder's advice - even now, you found yourself dismissing quite easily the testament that you were given, along with the news of her passing away.

When the grandfather clock struck the hour, the loud metallic sound made you jolt in panic. Still high strung and naked on the couch you realised you didn’t even know what time of day it was. Careful to not pull a muscle, you sat yourself up, tasting the bile slowly making its way up your throat.

“Ugh, that is disgusting.” You pulled a face, eyes searching for something to indicate how long you’ve been asleep for. The blinds were shut but not as fully and you could see the crack of dawn slither its way in, bathing the room in shadows. Fully awake but still too early to start unpacking you decided that a proper tour of the place was in order.

“Ouch.” Sliding off the couch you scoured the place for your trousers wondering how you managed to throw them all the way across the room. Slowly limping, your back and legs sore from the position you slept in, you reached them only to realise they were not only ripped to shreds but also soaked. As you bent down to pick your bottoms up, flashes of the moment you came violently as Seokjin, the man your mind conjured, fingered you ran through your head.

“How in the world–?” You pondered, heartbeat increasing in pace as your breathing got more ragged by the minute.

Across the corridor connecting the living room to the rest of the house, hidden in the shadows, Seokjin watched bemusedly as your mind kept trying to piece the events together, to make sense of what you experienced. He could still smell you, your fragrance still fresh in his mind and he basked in the memory of it, the need to have you once again, fully was making him impatient. Knowing that he had to wait for longer until then, his plan not yet executed, he sighed. His blood was singing with the need for revenge, the need to possess you, the need for you. But to you he was but a figment of your imagination. Eyes gleaming with excitement at what he had in store for you, he decided that keeping himself hidden would be a waste. So when you started muttering to yourself about the state of your trousers he lazily made his way out of the shadows.

“Little lamb,” He addressed you, ignoring the way you swerved round, eyes and mouth wide open. “I am surprised you can still walk, it was a wild rough night for you wasn’t it? Even worse for your trousers- I’m also not sorry about that by the way.” He shrugged emotionlessly, his eyes watching every move you made, like a cat waiting to pounce.

“You, what… am I still not awake?” You sputtered rushing to cover yourself, looking around for a second trying to find a clue for your answer. When you couldn’t see anything amiss, not like you would’ve been able to tell with the state of the apartment, you resorted to pinching your arm.

“Tsk, did you really think you were creative enough to make this whole thing up?” He laughed and you couldn’t help but stare at him, the sound was so unique and specific that you were entranced. You’re beautiful. “Is that what you were told? ‘Don't believe’?” You gasped as his face morphed once more into a mask of rage. “I knew your family was full of liars, but I didn’t think they’d keep this much away from you.” He seethed, fists clenching. The rage that coursed through him made him vibrate with hatred.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at him open mouthed. Your state of undress was not even important anymore – you watched in awe how the smoke like tendrils expanded once more from his body, lashing at everything and anything that was in his vicinity. When a stack of books hurtled your way you yelped and ducked, throwing yourself to the floor.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, eyes closed and arms covering your head as an attempt to protect yourself from the objects flying around the house.

“Why should I? Hm? Did they stop when I asked them to?” He raged, his spite so strong you could taste the venom on your tongue.

“Please, I don’t know what or who they are but I have nothing to do with it.” You sobbed, the pain from hitting the floor blossoming behind your eyelids, you knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise.

Only when the commotion seemed to die down, the coldness surrounding you disappearing along with it did you chance to look around, your heart struggling to get a grip of its own rhythm. Eyes widened you staggered to straighten yourself up, the man whose rage you tried to escape from now motionlessly standing in the middle of the room. He was not moving, and if you hadn’t experienced his mobility earlier you’d think he was just a statue, a prop in the middle of your living room. Your clean living room.

You glanced around mouth wide open, despite his rage, he managed to rearrange the furniture neatly, not one thing out of place. If your heart wasn’t acting like a frightened mouse inside your chest you would’ve laughed at the irony. The couch was placed in line with the middle of the living area, the bookshelves were all neatly hung and the books that ominously came for your head were lined up in a row... you squinted, alphabetically. Separate boxes, intact by the looks of it, were situated by the archway to the kitchen, and if you tried to crane your neck enough you could see the dark pans lining the shiny red tiles on the wall.

“You…” he spoke loudly, his voice so clear it echoed through the room. “You have everything to do with it.” Despite the words filled with blame, he looked tired and defeated. His face blended in a mixture of emotions, pain, regret, exhaustion. For a second you almost reached out to him, your hand already off the floor ready to comfort him. Then you remembered that he was not to be trifled with. He didn’t need your consolation - he hated you.

You also knew nothing about him, what he was, where he was coming from, why he was there? All these thoughts plaguing your mind you didn’t even notice him approach you until he crouched down next to you, his face so close to yours you could see the creases in the corner of his eyes, his irises mirroring his saddened expression. You could almost touch the smooth expanse of his skin, but upon closer inspection you realised you could see through it.

Gasping you reeled back distraught at your discovery. “What exactly are you? And why are you here?” You gulped, hoping your questions would not trigger another fit of rage from him. When nothing happened, you felt your shoulders lose the tension in them, grateful for the wall supporting you. It hadn’t even been a full day since you’ve moved, you were overwhelmed. You couldn’t even sleep on it–

“Wait if you’re real, does this mean…?” Looking down at your state of nakedness you all but blushed. Rising up, you quickly made your way towards the couch – the couch that now with his help stood in the exact spot you wanted it to, and grabbed the blanket off of it.

You turned around ready to wrap it around yourself when a hand, too cold to be comfortable, grabbed your wrist preventing you from moving.

“Little lamb,” he whispered, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey. The palm holding your wrist travelled up, tracing patterns over your skin, making it tingle with goosebumps. “Pet.” He sang again, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you to him and you gasped instinctively closing your eyes. Letting your head drop backwards onto his shoulder, your fist clenched as did your abdomen. It was all coming back to you. The memory of your orgasm, the way it ripped out of you like a storm. Your knees trembled and you bit your lip.

“My pet.” He breathed into your hair, his words trickling down your spine making you shudder as you released a breathy moan. “You are mine to use, and mine to play with, and right now, I don't want you covered by anything.” The blanket was ripped out of your hands and you whined, the last object that grounded you gone from your grasp. You held your breath waiting for him to touch you, your muscles already tense anticipating his next move. But when all he did was grip onto your hip tighter, leading you slowly towards the couch, you almost sighed. Conflicted, unsure whether or not you were grateful for the respite or disappointed you waited patiently, blinking up at him unsure of what to say.

“I am real, well as real as I can be.” He finally spoke, his chuckle filled with bitterness. He was standing in front of you, his hands rubbing his face as a tired man would do at the end of a long work day.

“Are you tired?” You whispered concern lacing through your words. You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to ask him that. He was all but vengeful towards you, rough and uncouth. He didn’t need your sympathy. Judging by the way he grimaced at your words he was on the same page as you.

“Y/N. To die, to sleep— To sleep, perchance to dream." He quoted Hamlet. The exhaustion in his words transformed into something darker, deeper. Anger. He bent down so his face was on the same level as yours, a look of hatred crossing over his face. “The living dead are always tired. ”

Diary entry #203

Today is the day I will finally be free. I only need to retrieve the grimoire for him and I will be able to be with her forever. It’s such a sweet thought knowing that we can finally love each other. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time.

=====

Your mouth dropped wide open in surprise, the unexpected answer causing you to pause. Your mind reeling with the implications of what he just said. “The what?” You whispered barely able to find your voice. You couldn’t quite understand what he was hinting at, but deep down you knew that he was not lying. The powers that he displayed, everything that you experienced at his hand - it couldn’t have happened if he was entirely human. But it couldn’t be possible, these things did not exist.

His laugh at your perplexed look was dark, dark enough to cause the goosebumps to rise on your skin once more and you shifted away from him, burying yourself further into the couch. Hands shaking desperate to cover yourself, not just your naked bottom half, but the whole of yourself. You felt exposed, the notion that he could be a supernatural being somehow made you feel stripped of any protection.

“Oh little lamb, you have so much to learn.” He took a step back and you released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. “But I won’t be the one to teach you. You don’t deserve that. No one in your family does.” He seethed, the cold air picking up around you once more, making you tremble your eyes closing for a second, unable to calm your beating heart down.

“Seokjin.” Your voice sounded meek as you tried to pacify him, unsure whether or not your attention would make things worse. You tried to keep yourself composed despite all the warnings in your head that were screaming at you to run away. Opening your eyes, you were surprised when there was no angry supernatural being. If not for the sight of your newly unpacked boxes strewn around the clean apartment you would have thought you were still dreaming. Looking around you confusedly, trying to make sense of what had just happened your eyes landed on your trousers lying next to you, their tattered state reassuring you that it had not been your overactive imagination. Wearily getting up you hurried to cover yourself, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were definitely certain of the presence of an angry being in your house.

Too sore and tired, the rational side of you won, you knew regardless of not having to unpack anymore, you had a lot of work to do. Eyeing the stairs that led to the upper floor you knew you’d better get the day started, there was a family tree you had to dig up and a history to unveil.

Diary entry #220

He lied, he lied and he will pay for it. He left me for dead once he got his hands on his prize. I’m lying here knowing I do not have much time, trying to think of her but all I can imagine is the pain I will put them through. His whole family. I will not stop until I feel satisfied with my revenge.

======

You didn’t expect to find anything in the old study that your grandmother had left untouched. When you first visited the house you found it odd that the whole house had been cleared out except for that one old room. The dust had settled over the brightly coloured futons, their velvet more than ready for a clean. The heavy furniture in there included a desk and some chairs dotted around the space - reading corners you suspected.

Cautiously you walked around the room, your sense of smell becoming more accustomed to the scent of old wood and dust invading your nostrils. Fingers grazing at the books set neatly on the shelves you grimaced at the amount of grime gathered on your hand. It was clear that the place hadn’t been aired or cleaned in a while, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandmother had even bothered to enter this room at all during her lifetime.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin’s loud voice breaking through the stillness of the room made you jump in surprise. Staring at him you didn’t know what to say, your mind plagued by thoughts on what he may have been. Remembering the way your hand went straight through him you suspected him to not be human, yet you couldn’t determine anything else.

“What are you?” You hadn’t intended on asking him that again, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tutting as he shook his head he strolled around the space, his presence engulfing it. All of a sudden you felt trapped, his body languidly pacing around you, made the room seem smaller and you tried to shift into a corner hoping you would be unnoticed.

“Ah, I have been wishing for freedom for this place for so long. I don't know what freedom looks like anymore. I only know my hatred towards your family. A liar’s blood courses through your veins Y/N, and no matter what, I promised to get my revenge.” He spoke up not minding you, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, a faraway look in his gaze.

You almost thought he’d forgotten about you until he turned around, his dark eyes fixed on yours. “Tell you what?” He made his way towards you, and with each step he took your breathing sped up. “You try to guess what I am…” when he reached you he bent down to your level, the cold air that always seemed to surround him fanning around you. “But if you get it wrong…” his finger trailed over your cheek, softly and you closed your eyes at the contact. “You will pay.” When he reached your throat, his fingers slowly tightened around it. Not enough to choke you, but enough that it startled you, your breathing erratic.

“I-“ trying to fight him, to tell him no, that this wasn’t fair to you and you never even wanted to meet him in the first place, let alone play these games with him. It all seemed futile. You couldn’t utter a word. Instead you found yourself staring at his face, his ethereal features, nodding in approval. Only when he disappeared from view did you realise the mistake you’d made.

=====

Your nights bled into your days, your sense of time completely shifted as Jin’s rage and wrath kept you awake throughout. The minor inconveniences during the day, such as your things going missing and appearing in other places around the house; turning the lights off and whistling randomly as he made his presence known; those were not the problem. During the night was when you actually experienced his revenge. His fits would leave you writhing under his tongue and fingers, wet and desperate for release, before an orgasm took over as you cried out his name. You knew as soon as you started anticipating your nights that you were in deeper than you’d ever intended.

Throughout the free time you had, and whenever he decided to offer you respite, you’d keep searching through the old library for the key to the locked box in the corner of the room.

“Give up Y/N.” Jin said boredly, his body leaning over one of the chairs, languidly stretching as if he was the one to experience sleepless nights instead of you.

Huffing at him, and trying to fight off the heat that threatened to swallow you whole just by hearing his voice, you stubbornly kept searching through the drawers. “Do you have nothing else to do?” You chanced it, not having had a conversation until now that involved more than you yelling out his name and begging him to allow you to come. With the realisation that he still hadn’t exactly mentioned what he was, you turned around to him.

“Grim reaper?” You threw it at him and he glanced at you amusedly.

“Nice try Y/N, but no. I am too handsome for that. Devilishly handsome.” He smirked at you knowingly and you snapped your fingers.

“The devil? Satan? A ghoul?” You fired them at him, the further down your list you got the more disgusted you became at what your mind conjured up. Days ago, you would have laughed at anyone who dared to imply the supernatural realm was real, now you were sleeping with one. Well, ish.

Seokjin’s laugh echoed out, the distinct sound was rare to your ears. “No, try again. Careful though,” his voice darkened and you paused what you were doing to glance at him. “Carry on this path and I’ll thoroughly feel insulted if you don’t figure it out.” He suddenly disappeared from your view and you gasped as you felt his breath right next to your ear.

“And don’t forget our pact…. The more you fail the more I get to…” The sharp pain you felt at the nape of your throat made you realise he’s sunk his teeth in you. “Hurt you.” His dark whisper once again promised pain, but you bit your lip from moaning out loud knowing that it also meant pleasure. You’d already missed so many times that you knew tonight would be a wild ride for you.

Only it didn’t. That night you spent alone in the library looking for the key, distracted by any sound that could indicate his arrival. Yet for the whole night, it was just you and the creaking sound of the pipes whenever a neighbour decided to use the hot water. Frustratedly you threw yourself onto the chair by the desk playing with your necklace trying hard to imitate Seokjin’s whistles. You stared at patterns on the ceiling, your eyes focused on one spot, your mind playing tricks on you when all of a sudden you gasped jolting out of your chair, your hand pulling at the necklace around your neck.

“This!” Hurriedly taking it off you stared at it, a cross like object dangling at the end of the chain its golden shine catching in the low light. When you received it you had no idea what it was, and you didn’t bother asking. You wondered on your own dismissing it as a jeweler's odd choice. Until now. Until this moment when you realised that it may be more important than you’d thought.

Slotting it into the lock of the box you cursed when it didn’t fit, and for a moment you were prepared to give up, when a flick of your wrist clicked the lock open. You stared at it for a second unsure of what you’d find if you opened it.

“Seokjin?” You called out instinctively. Realising what you’d done you shut your mouth tightly, your lips in a thin line and you glanced around for the supernatural apparition. When you couldn't see him you breathed in slowly, when had he become the person you relied on the most?

Dismissing the thought, you quickly placed a hand over the box, and without giving yourself the time to delay it anymore you opened the lid. You didn’t know what you’d expected, but the sight of a lone old book was not it. Raising an eyebrow confusedly you resisted the urge to curse. All this trouble for an old book? Feeling ridiculous, you carelessly picked it up. After your hand made contact with the cover you felt its energy coursing through your body. You immediately dropped it to the ground, your heartbeat speeding up as unintelligible whispers surrounded you. It took you a moment to decipher the mumbled whispers and jumbled words, but after a while you realised they were telling you a story.

A story about a man who, centuries ago, foolishly made a pact with a business owner, a witcher and a merchant. Having fallen in love with the businessman’s eldest daughter he agreed to bring a spellbook back - a grimoire. In return for his services the businessman promised him his daughter’s hand in marriage. Incited by the prospect of marrying the woman he loved, the man promised to lend the businessman his powers to retrieve the book. But instead of keeping to his promise, the businessman shackled the man, until the spellbook was retrieved. Beating him, using his powers as he lay on the grimy floor of a dungeon, he was treated like nothing short of a dog. The only thing that kept the man alive was the thought of his love, the hope still shining inside of him that maybe one day, the businessman would actually keep his promise. He knew all too well he was lying to himself but from time to time he got to see the woman he loved. That kept him alive throughout the torture he went through. The woman who tried to help him on more than one occasion, only to fail and fall under the wrath of her father.

When the spellbook was retrieved, the hope died. Instead of his daughter’s hand in marriage he received a dagger to his heart. Using the last of his energy he cast a vengeful curse upon the family. They would be forever haunted by his wrath, until the promise was fulfilled. Any member of the family that came across him would be forever bound to his spirit. Until the eldest daughter binds herself to him in marriage, no one would be spared. He would not rest until he got his revenge.

“…the other must forfeit.” You recited with the voices as if this was something you’ve known all along.

You didn’t realise you’d started crying until you woke up from the trance, your chest heaving with sobs. You sobbed for the man, the man whom you knew was in fact the very ghost haunting you, you sobbed for the woman who lost him, you sobbed for your family, the spark of hatred blooming in your chest. You knew it was your lineage that was at fault for his loss and for his wrath. You were more than aware of it now. Something akin to determination settled over you, and as you finally picked up the spellbook opening it you saw the flimsy brown pages of an old diary staring back at you. The penmanship was elegant and despite the rips in the corners, it looked to be in good condition.

As you settled yourself in a chair ready to read something shifted in you, and for once the thought of the beautiful ghost inside your apartment filled your heart with warmth.

Diary entry #2

I saw the most beautiful woman today as I made my way to the market. Her hair shines as brightly as her smile, her eyes are galaxies in the sky and her voice, a song sung by angels. I have never been struck by love but this time I fear that Cupid may have targeted my heart with all the arrows in his quiver. She smiled at me and offered me her hand in greeting and I almost lost my breath. I must get to know her, I must. My Y/N.

This was it.

======

You don’t know what possessed you, whether it was Seokjin himself or the knowledge that despite his hatred and anger towards you, he’s never actually harmed you, (he’d been rough, and left more than one bruise on you during his nightly sessions), but the memory of each and every orgasm you had under his ministrations made up your mind.

With that thought in mind you didn’t falter in your step once you reached the back of the house, where you knew you’d usually found him.

“Seokjin!” Yelling out his name, the only response you got was the cold echo of your voice ringing back at you. “Seokjin! Please.” You tried once more, aggravated at the situation. You needed him to come out, you needed to show him what you had found but you also just needed him. Turning on the spot when you couldn’t see him anywhere in the corridor, you decided to walk into your bedroom.

The room was barely lit, the light bulbs unchanged for so long and on their way out. Despite the low light you could clearly see the room and its lack of ghostly apparition.

“Seokjin! I have something to show you!” Yelling at the top of your lungs, hoping you wouldn’t disturb your neighbours as it was well past midnight, you waited once more. And once more only silence greeted you. Sighing in frustration you walked to your mirror deciding that if the stubborn vengeful ghost would not show himself, he was sure to show up in your dreams. Huffing and puffing whilst you got ready for the night you jumped startled when a loud bang was heard in the corridor. Jolting out of your seat, you rushed out to check if Seokjin had decided to play tricks on you once more.

“Stop being so stubborn.” You muttered to yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the corridor, the living room was devoid of any mischievous handsome apparition, and the kitchen was as clean as you left it before. When you heard the bang again and determined that it was an engine stalling outside you sighed, surprised at how affected you were by the knowledge that you were not going to see him. Deciding to give up, you got yourself ready for sleep smiling with the knowledge that surely he will be there waiting for you.

He wasn’t. Nor was he present in your life for a few weeks. The first week you went about your day expecting him to come out at any point. Constantly aware of your surroundings, looking over your shoulder expectedly, yet he never appeared. The more time passed the less conscious about his absence you became. Not fully out of your mind yet not anticipating his presence anymore you became less tense, less ready for a confrontation, your nerves were less on edge. The only thing that was a constant reminder of his absence was the lack of sleepless nights - now you were fully sleeping unguarded in your bed starfished as you’d wished from the first moment you moved into the apartment.

When the third week rolled in you had had enough of your freedom, the lack of pleasurable evenings was getting to you. Resorting to your own hands and fingers, you made yourself come. The frustration of never reaching the same peak as you did when he was fingering you, licking you, teasing you, fuelled your own disappointment. You tried imagining him on more than one occasion, edging yourself on, imagining his plush lips over your nipples, his teeth grazing your clit as you were pinching it - but nothing worked as good as the real thing.

During one of your late nights, your clothes strewn around your bed, legs splayed wide open, your fingers worked deep into your pussy, you couldn’t help yourself - imagining his tongue fucking you deep within, hitting patches inside that you could only dream of- you whimpered out his name.

Not expecting a response you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to immerse completely in the fantasy. When the creak of your bedroom door could be heard you didn’t react, so close to finding your own release that you were oblivious to anything else.

“Fuck Seokjin, yes, like that, deeper.” You moaned out loud your fingers pistoning within you furiously. Your free hand on your breast you pinched your nipple tightly, the slight pain radiating through your nerves making your hips buck off the bedsheets. “Ah.”

Completely unaware that the subject of your fantasies, the man who'd been haunting not only your apartment but also your dreams, was standing in the room with you. A dark hungry look crossed over his face; watching you make yourself come, fantasising as you whispered his name, he felt his own dick swell in his pants. With no inhibition he palmed himself through the material, undoing his trousers and pulling out his red angry cock pumping himself slowly. Spreading the fluids over the top of his dick, he smirked as you switched from pinching your nipples to pinching your own clit, all the while still working your fingers deep into your cunt. The lewd display in front of him tested his patience, but he wanted to let you come, he needed you to be sensitive before he could do anything. He needed to see you cum, unaware of his presence around you but his name rolling off that sweet tongue as you gushed around your own fingers.

“Seokjin, fuck I’m going to come.” You moaned, your fingers and hips moving erratically, losing all rhythm. Your back arching off the bed muscles trembling in orgasmic bliss, he could see the wetness coating your fingers and he licked his lips almost able to taste you. Suppressing a moan he pumped himself more furiously, pausing only when he felt himself too close to coming. He didn’t want to come like this, he needed to fill you up.

Leaving you to ride your high he let his dick go, slowly inching towards the bed, like a cat stalking its prey. His eyes glinted with the knowledge that your night was just about to begin.

“Ah, little lamb, I can see that you missed me.” He purred, now close to the edge of the bed by your head. Making sure that you were in the appropriate position for what he was about to do he slowly used his energy to shift your head towards him.

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the voice you’ve not heard in weeks, but only dreamt about. Not expecting the sight that greeted you, you sputtered. There he was in all his naked glory, his wide shoulders standing proudly, his narrow hips and happy train enticing you towards his hardened member. Licking your lips you opened your mouth to respond, your voice stuck in your throat, unsure of whether or not he was really there or if you had been imagining him.

The dim light from the candles on the bed stand was illuminating his lips and cheeks, casting shadows over his eyes and part of his naked body, outlining his hip dips and the hard muscles of his arms. Eyeing his member you couldn’t help but gasp, he was fully hard unashamedly palming himself, spreading his precum all over. Licking your lips you suppressed a moan at the thought of how it might taste on your tongue. Now aware of his presence, you gasped ready to cover yourself up ashamed that he probably caught you mid orgasm.

“Nuh uh.” He simply smirked anticipating your move. Once more you found yourself unable to move your hands, the well known tendrils of his energy holding you down as a rope would. Still splayed lewdly you couldn’t help but succumb to him as he used them to caress you. Your nerves still on fire after your orgasm, it didn’t take long until you were squirming in pleasure, your wet pussy once again clenching around nothing, anticipating what was to come. What you didn’t expect was the invasion of your mouth as he approached your head fully, his dick sliding in as you moaned out your pleasure. Choking for a second at the unexpected intrusion you closed your eyes.

“Open your eyes, pet, I want you to look at me as I use your mouth to pleasure myself.” He demanded and as tempting as it was to test him, missing the way his rough behaviour would spur your orgasm on, you decided that you didn’t want to test him. Not yet. Complying, you opened your eyes. The sight of him bent over you, knees on either side of you, and his lustful gaze was too much for you. Moaning with your mouth full of his dick, you tried to relax your throat as much as you could. Not waiting for you he pushed further in, until he was deep inside your throat, your gag reflex kicking in. Sputtering you almost begged him to take it easy, but as soon as he started pumping himself in your mouth, the wisps of energy engulfing you started to touch you in all the right places, pinching your nipples and caressing your clit, and you let yourself go.

Soon enough your throat became accustomed to the invasion and you found yourself whimpering in pleasure at the taste of him. Your nails dug into the bed when he picked up the pace, your saliva coating his length, droplets of your fluids combined, coating your face.

“Look at you pet, you’re taking me in so well. You look so lewd with your mouth full of my cock dribbling all over yourself like you’re starved for it.” Seokjin purred, his breath coming out in pants as he picked up speed. Your mouth wrapping around him, the feel of your tongue on the underside of his dick - he could feel himself on the verge of his orgasm. Slowing down for a second he took in your position, sprawled out, legs open, toes curled as his energy kept its pace on your clit. With your fingers gripping at the bed sheets, eyes watery from the intrusion and the need to come, he felt something shift in him. Lazily fucking your mouth his eyes glinted when he caught sight of the candles by the bed.

You saw his eyes darken, but you were not expecting the hot searing pain that sent your nerves into overdrive when he grabbed the candle lying on your bedside and dripped the wax all over your stomach. Whimpering in pain, your toes curling almost cramping, your hips arched off the bed at the sensation. Mouth still stuffed with his cock you let the tears gathered at the corner of your eyes slip down your cheeks. Once the wax cooled off the slight painful twangs from the inflamed skin added to the sensation as fingers wiped at your tears, his cold hands soothing your flushed cheeks.

“Shhhh.” He cooed, his hips slowing their movement, until he plopped out of your mouth with a wet sound. “You’re doing so well little lamb.” He praised and you felt the pride swell in your chest at his words.

“Seokjin.” With your mouth free of his cock you tried to ask where he’s been but he barely gave you a moment of rest as he climbed over you, hand still placed on your cheek. Ignoring you he settled over your splayed body, his eyes taking in the sight of your stomach clenching and unclenching, the hardened drops of wax cracking with the movement, the red skin underneath giving him a sense of pleasure knowing that he’s caused you pain. Moaning in satisfaction he bent over, his lips engulfing yours in a rough kiss, coaxing your mouth open.

It was the first time you were experiencing his lips on yours, and despite the roughness you revelled in the sensation of their plumpness and his care as he stroked your cheek.

“My pet, you’ve given me a wonderful show. Now it’s time to repay you.” He pulled away from your lips just an inch, the hand stroking your cheek caressing further down until it reached the swell of your breasts. A raspy moan made its way past your throat as he kneaded at the sensitive flesh, pinching your nipple. Switching breasts, he attacked your lips once more for a brief moment before he trailed a path towards the sensitive flesh of your neck. His palm stroked over your pert nipples, his tongue trailing patterns in the spot where your neck met your shoulders before nuzzling it gently. You felt yourself getting dizzy, not used to this gentle behaviour from him.

“Ah, Master. Right there.” When his fingernail scraped your nipple softly, your chest heaved, desperate to feel it again.

Jin pulled away from your neck, a look of satisfaction crossing over his face as he took in his own masterpiece. Your hair was fanned like a halo around you and he would have laughed at the irony. The look displayed on your face was anything but angelic, lips thoroughly kissed, red and shining with saliva; your neck already blossoming in tiny bruises from where his teeth nipped at it; your eyes half lidded lust shining in them; your chest heaving in pleasure as his hand pinched at your nipple, sprawled out for him wax covering your abdomen trailing down to your wet pussy – no you looked like the devil’s bait. And he was about to take the plunge, his hard cock already ready to impale you.

“Good pet, you’re learning your place.” He cooed, harshly pinching your already sensitive nipple making you writhe. Bending down he kissed the skin between your breasts, his free hand sliding in between your bodies to where it found your pussy. Running his fingers between your folds, he coated his hand in your wetness before he palmed himself once more, pumping thoroughly a few times.

“I don’t even need to get you ready for me.” He mumbled the slight annoyance in his voice not missed by your ears.

You couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips into his, urging him to be rougher with you. “Take me as you please, Master. Please fuck me hard.”

He didn’t need your approval to be rougher, and for a second he paused, the anger building inside of him. With an animalistic growl he aligned himself with your entrance plunging himself into you without warning. “You–“ he snapped his hips into yours, the tip of his dick reaching deep inside of you making you gasp out a silent moan at the intrusion. “Don’t get to tell me what to do Y/N.” He grunted aggressively, his hips not stopping their movement.

The sudden feeling of his dick inside of you, finally filling you up as you’ve been dreaming about it when you masturbated, his growl in your ears as well as his hands now anchored around your neck, squeezing it enough to cut your air supply. It was all too much, squirming under him, hips rising to meet his thrusts, you were almost there. The knot in your stomach tightened and you can’t help but beg for more as he fucked into you harder and harder. Skin slapping so hard it stung, it felt good against your tired tight muscles. With his hand tightly wrapped around your throat, his other one digging his fingers in your hips, keeping you in place, he pumped you full of his cock.

Feeling your inner walls clamp on him tight, he knew you were about to cum, and he debated making you wait some more. But when you arched your back off the mattress as far as you could, head rolled backwards as he touched a spot inside of you that made you see stars, he growled and picked up the pace. He was close to coming.

He placed his weight on top of you as he changed positions, lips near your ear as he mercilessly pounded you in the mattress. You felt his fingers reach to touch your sweaty abdomen trailing down to your clit pressing hard on it as he whispered, “so Y/N, how does it feel like to come as the mercy of a ghost?” You let go, the pleasure overtaking you so hard and fast you didn’t know where it started and when it ended, your skin burnt with electricity and you felt it all the way to the back of your head, the white dots behind your eyelids and the stream of tears running down your face accompanied your chant of his name.

“Ah, Seokjin I— coming.”

Seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head, tears streaming down your face, feeling you grip him like a vice he let go as well, impaling you one more time keeping you on your high as he spilled himself inside of you. As he kept coming, seemingly forever, filling you up, he felt cold, and his words rang in your head loud and clear. Ghost.

The thought didn’t terrify you, instead it made you pull at his energy trying to free your arms. Taking advantage of his distracted state you managed to pull yourself free, your arms grabbing his shoulders, legs wrapping around him keeping him to you and inside of you.

“Don’t leave please.” You whispered in the darkness of the bedroom but it was too late. He pulled himself out of you, anger raging in his eyes.

“Don’t you get it! I can’t leave! No matter how much I wanted to!” Gone was the gentleness in his voice.

You ignored the hurt you felt at his words, you didn’t know what you’d hoped. He was a vengeful ghost. Waiting to wreak havoc on your family. And yet you stupidly assumed that maybe you could help him. Suddenly remembering the book you found in the old study your eyes lightened. Maybe you could help him.

Not giving yourself time to rest, your legs shaking like jello, you got off the bed ignoring the slight twinge of pain that ran up your back.

“Seokjin, I think I found what you need.” You whispered in the empty room hoping that the man in question hadn’t disappeared once again.

“I need a lot of things pet, and all of them are to do with you.” Seokjin reappeared next to you, making you jump. “Now that our game’s over I need to find new ways to make you suffer.” He started, but you could see it in his eyes, there was a certain softness to them that was missing before.

“What if I told you I know how you can redeem your freedom?” You whispered, gathering all your courage to approach him. The fact that he was a ghost still unnerved you to some extent but the bridge had been long passed. Now you needed to help him, it was your turn. “What if–“ less than a foot away you carefully gauged his reaction. “What if I told you I can help?” Reaching out to him you touched his cheek, expecting your hand to pass right through it, but when you felt the cold smooth skin underneath your palm, you smiled.

Seokjin’s expressionless reaction made you pause. Heart thundering in your chest, you held your breath waiting for his response. Hope bloomed in your chest when, with the slightest turn of his head, he leaned into your touch. Your free hand grabbed onto his and you gently pulled him along with you.

“Come on, let me show you something.”

=====

Showing him your discovery, you were unprepared for the fit he was about to have – the broken furniture lying all around you, his curses still rang in your ears. You didn’t cower away this time, this time you stood your ground, you waited for his rage to pass, knowing it wasn’t misplaced. He was more than entitled to it, but he also needed to let it go. And you were willing to sacrifice your own freedom to offer him his.

When his rage subsided, you could still hear your ears ringing. With your eyes on him, you bent down to pick up the book.

“I will marry you, Jin.” You stated, not bothering to beat around the bush. Approaching him you offered him the book and your hand, wincing when he reeled away from you.

“You will what?” Despite the energy he expanded during his outburst his voice was still loud and clear, too loud for the silence that reigned the apartment.

“I will marry you.” You repeated, this time your tone of voice matching his. “I will offer you my hand, as the eldest daughter. This ought to free you right?” You argued now, standing toe to toe with him. His eyes locked on yours and for a second, you saw the small spark of hope flash through them. Your whole body relaxed, knowing that what you were about to do was the right thing.

“There is no need to be angry anymore, you can be free of it. However to do that –” Once again you offered him the spellbook an uncertain look in your eyes.

“–I may need your help.”

=====

You didn’t know what would happen once you said your vows to him, your heart screaming at you to not do it. As he took a step towards you, his gentle smile making your heart soar, you closed your eyes, smiling, waiting for his embrace. When all you felt was the soft brush of his lips against your forehead, trailing kisses down towards your lips, stopping to kiss each eyelid softly before gently taking over your mouth, your breathing stopped. The gesture only lasted for a second, fleeting, but worth a thousand words.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

For the first time since you met him he sounded at peace and you hummed in appreciation. You were definitely not expecting those to be the last words you heard from him, nor were you expecting him to vanish into thin air after. But once you reopened your eyes, ready to witness the peace settle over his features and impart your joy with him - you found nothing but the sight of your mirror taunting you with a reflection of him and you in it. Yet, when you glanced at your side he was nowhere to be seen.

“Seokjin?” You whispered, your heart constricting in your chest. You were not prepared to let him go, though you’d suspected that fulfilling the promise demanded a sacrifice. Despite a tumultuous start between the two of you, you were unwilling for it to reach the same ending without even trying.

Glancing at his smiling face in the mirror, the anger lines completely replaced by laughter, his hand held yours tightly in the reflection. You felt tears gather in your eyes when you squeezed your hand and all you felt was emptiness. Suddenly an idea popped into your head, if you could still see his reflection, maybe he was not completely gone from your world? Maybe there was still a chance that you could bring him back, show him what a happy life was meant to look like?

Starting towards the grimoire that started everything, you paused in your step, unsure of yourself. What if he did not want to come back? What if after all this time of being around the living he got tired, and he actually wanted to pass over? What if you were not good at the spell? With all these thoughts running through your head, you didn’t even notice when you grabbed the book, resting it on one forearm ready to flick through it for a spell. Pushing your doubts aside, you concentrated on the task at hand.

You had no idea what you were looking for, but you hoped that something in its pages may catch your attention. But, when minutes passed and nothing screamed ‘bring the dead back from the dead’, you yelled out in frustration. Almost throwing the book away, knowing that the more you waited the smaller were your chances of success, you crumpled to the ground with the book falling beside you.

You were ready to give up when something on the cover caught your eye, the symbol on your necklace. The symbol of the pact your ancestors made with him, still present on it, albeit faded. Grinning to yourself, you opened the book to the place where you knew the binding spell to be. Maybe if you took back your vows.

Reading the spell out loud, your voice shaking with emotion you ended with breaking the vow of binding yourself to him. The sound of the blood rushing through your ears made you feel dizzy. You hadn’t realised that you were holding your breath until you felt the burn in your chest from the lack of air. For a moment everything went still, so still you could hear your heart thrumming in your chest. When after a while nothing happened and the room stayed as empty as before, no coldness enveloping you, you felt despair suffocating you.

“Come on! Please.” You let the hot tears trail down your cheeks as your hands clenched into fists. “I take it all back! I don’t want to bind myself to you! Now come back!”

Minutes passed – minutes that to you felt like decades. And it may have been, you didn’t know how long you stood there, shoulders shaking under the weight of your sobs. Your chest felt constricted and it hurt to breathe. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d cry for a ghost whose anger caused you to go through sleepless nights. Yet, here you were, legs cramping and knees aching from having sat on the hardwood floor in the room. All the while your fingernails dug into the grimoire, chanting your pleas to anyone and anything – praying that your spell had worked. That somehow he’d be brought back to you.

“For one to be able to leave the other must forfeit.” You mumbled before your voice picked up in volume. “I don’t forfeit do you hear me? Isn’t that how it goes?! For one to be able to leave the other…”

“… the other must forfeit.” Your eyes snapped open at the familiar drawl. Head now turned towards the mirror, you gasped at the familiar smirk of the man standing beside it.

“Hello, pet.”

With the familiar feeling of a panic attack making its way up your spine and the splotches of black painting the corner of your vision, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Eyes darting along the corridor searching for something to help, they settled on the far end of the corridor where you spotted the men bringing up your couch. Upon hearing them shout instructions at each other you almost sighed in relief before attempting to call out to them– nothing but a gargle to your ears which didn’t manage to get their attention.

Panicked you willed yourself to move, to try to get at least one foot out of the door, your brain somehow knowing that whatever was immobilising you had a direct link to it. The movers were getting closer and closer to you and you felt your knees shake underneath you. They didn’t seem to notice you as the man facing your way looked at you, you noticed his eyes glazed over, as if…as if he was looking through you.

Desperately your eyes darted back towards the apartment, hoping to find something that could aid you. The sight that greeted you made you pause. The man sitting in the middle of your open lounge, casually leaning against a stack of boxes, his tousled black hair covering his forehead in soft waves, framing his deep onyx eyes. Eyes that were trained on you, a smirk pulling at his plush lips, something dark painted on his soft features. If you would’ve gasped if you could. He looked ethereal, alabaster skin almost glowing in the artificial lights bathing the room, yet his presence exuded darkness and danger. Still smirking at you he pushed himself off of the stack of boxes, eyes locked on yours as he languidly licked his lips.

“It isn’t nice when you’re not able to move is it?” He never opened his mouth, his lips still trained in a mischievous smirk, but somehow you knew that the smooth soft voice belonged to him. Gulping with difficulty you went to open your mouth, forgetting for one second you were restrained. “Nuh uh,” the tut echoing through your head was followed by an airy laugh. It would’ve sounded beautiful if not for the dark tone seeping through it like ink blotting on a piece of paper. “Good try puppet, but you can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m through with you.” His voice promised a dreary ending and your spine stiffened as you shivered.

Taking a few steps towards you, his face dropped into an unemotional mask – long gone was his smirk and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. Smirk gone you could easily drink in his almond eyes, and his smooth skin so white it made it seem like the light was passing straight through it. You felt entranced as you followed every step he took towards you. His movements were smooth and natural yet there seemed to be a trail behind his movements, as if he was too fast for your eyes to catch. It made him seem so fluid that it almost transcended reality. Unknowingly, you let a whimper escape as he got closer and if you’d blinked you would’ve missed the way his face morphed into a snarl.

“You don’t get to play victim here Y/N.” This time his mouth moved with the words making your heart clench at the ominous tone in his voice. “You have sins to pay for.” He was closer - so close that you could see the lashes framing his eyes. You couldn’t move your body so instead you tried to turn your head away. Almost crying in relief when you found that you could, you closed your eyes. forcing the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes to trail onto your cheeks, your mind pleading for this to end.

“Ah, little Y/N is scared, good. You can pray however much you want. There is no escape.” In hindsight, you should have never turned your face away from him. You’d hoped that if you didn’t see him, he would disappear like a figment of your imagination. When you felt the cold brush of something against your neck you gasped wanting to look back but finding that you were completely trapped. “You’re now in my territory.” The coldness wrapped around your neck. It felt as if you’d put on a choker that was left in the fridge for too long; it clung to your skin, it burnt.

“Good luck.” The tight feeling around your neck felt suffocating and it took you a second to realise that it wasn’t ice, the imprint of it tightening on your skin felt like fingers – he was choking you. Before you could react, the feeling of being trapped underwater and the heaviness in your limbs let up, and your ability to breathe returned. A strong breeze passed through you, almost knocking you over. At the same time the lights down the corridor fizzed and flickered. The unexpected sound of them exploding made you jump, the loud crash causing your knees to buckle, and you lowered yourself to the ground. With half of the lights in your apartment gone you could barely make out the end of the corridor, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was there. And he was waiting. Seokjin.

“I mean, aren’t you the same way? Isn’t that why you haven’t changed your form in nearly two years now?” he questions his tall companion curiously. “Surely that girl you were toying with is under your control by now, right? Why not move on to a different target, Tae?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer him immediately, the glare he throws at Jimin a sufficient reply. “It’s different,” he sighs after a heartbeat. “I don’t love her; I just need her to feed – to survive.”

“Bullshit,” Jimin counters with a roll of his eyes. “Pretend all you want, but you can’t fool me. I know the way you talk about her when you’re drunk.”

“It’s different,” Taehyung insists with a growl. Seizing Jimin’s shoulders, Taehyung’s golden eyes glint with irritation under the dim streetlight. “Because I’m not willing to give up my life for her… Unlike you,” he spits as he shakes his head. “I want you to think carefully about this. Are you sure you’re willing to give up your immortality, and eventually your powers, for a mere mortal?”

Jimin laughs, loud enough that it would normally wake everyone in the neighbourhood, but his powers have given him a gift of anonymity, so the sound is merely carried away by the wind. Instead of staring into the gilded eyes of his friend that mirrors the storm around them, he looks up at the darkened room again.

With a graceful smile, he peels Taehyung’s hands away from his shoulders before turning away to leave, away from this dreaded weather. Indifferent about whether Taehyung could hear him, Jimin’s ruby eyes twinkle as he grins, “Oh, I have never been surer.”

---

You’re not sure when the dreams started, but it was shortly after you started working under the new CEO, Park Jimin. They weren’t so frequent before, maybe happening about once or twice every couple of months with you recollecting bits and pieces come morning. Now, not only were the dreams occurring nightly, you’re left with an uncomfortable mess in the morning – made evident by the growing wet puddle soaking your sheets, but also the way you can no longer look at your boss without heat flaming your cheeks.

When you confide your issue with a good friend of yours, she only gave you a weird look, telling you that the dreams were attributed to the fact that: (a) your boss is fine as hell; and (b) the stress that’s been accumulating with the mountain of tasks he’s assigned to you.

“If you want my opinion, I think you just need to get laid,” Jessie scoffs with a roll of her eyes.

Heeding her advice, you donned on your battle armour that consisted of a dark-red dress with a plunging neckline. You’ve been blessed that night with an array of beautiful men who vied for your attention, but even after deciding to go home with the mysterious soft-spoken one whose arm was covered in tattoos, you couldn’t go through with it.

It’s not that he was bad in bed either. The raven-haired boy had kissed you like there was no tomorrow, sending your nerves aflame as you reciprocated his passion. But, as you closed your eyes in pleasure when he laid you down on his bed, his visage was replaced by a certain blonde CEO. And the wonderful night that seemed so promising ended up with you apologizing profusely in embarrassment before speeding away from the mystery man’s apartment at 2am.

Rain has graced the earth more often lately, so by the time you reach your apartment in the outskirts of the city, you’re drenched, adding another tick of irritation to the already shitty night. After you finished towelling your hair dry, you decided that it’s time to sleep, and when you drifted into the abyssal darkness, you hoped that your dreams weren’t plagued by a familiar swoop of blonde hair.

---

The room spins as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. There’s a hand on your shoulder that shakes you gently, but try as you might, the pounding in your head makes it impossible for you to keep your eyes open long enough to distinguish its owner.

“Breathe,” says a familiar voice. “It’ll go away if you just breathe.”

You do as the voice suggests, inhaling deeply while screwing your eyes shut, in hopes that it will drown out the ringing in your ears. Something soft glides across your eyelids and like magic, silence returns, a trusty companion.

Gingerly, you open an eye before wincing at the harsh fluorescent light. You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the brightness before finding yourself in the file room of your office, with steel shelves stacked with various kinds of blue binders, each containing reports of the company’s financial burdens and achievements through the years.

And in front of you, tie askew and flushed in the face, is your boss; the one and only Park Jimin.

He has you pressed up against a file cabinet, caging your body between two strong arms, white sleeves rolled to the elbows. You notice the hint of ink on the corner of your eye – a 13 on his wrist. You open your mouth to ask him about its significance, only to close it back up when his face looms closer.

Before your brain has a chance to register what’s happening, Park Jimin kisses you.

He kisses you with urgency, but not with haste – undoing you with every sweep of his plush lips against yours.

Though it takes you a moment, you pull him closer by his tie, earning you the familiar quiet chuckle that speeds your heart rate, and you too, kiss him back with fervour. Even when the inches between your bodies fall to zero, you want him to be closer still. And when he parts, you feel the ache of being torn apart. Your hands fall to his chest, the desire to rip the buttons off his white dress-shirt grows stronger with every second that passes as you study the swell of his lips, wet with saliva, glinting in the light.

“Do it.”

It takes you a second to register his words, but when your brain deciphers his meaning, your hands tighten their grip, wrinkling the white cotton fabric. With a heavy inhale, you yank. The buttons don’t fly off and clatter to the ground like in movies, but your strength did cause a few to strain against their threads. You run your hands down the expanse of Jimin’s chest as he shivers under your touch. You look up to see a marvel stand before you; one where his eyes are closed, and pretty mouth slightly parted to accommodate his staccato breathing.

“Kiss me.” Your words seem to be carried away with the hum of air conditioning, but before you have a chance to repeat yourself, Jimin slams into you, tangling his hand in your hair to tighten the hold he has on your head.

The cabinet clatters as he pairs the kisses with a buck of his hips, dragging his clothed erection up to your core; and you moan, your voice foreign in your own ears. You beg him for more as his nose trails the column of your throat, your own impatient hands fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Patience, my dear,” Jimin chides playfully. He puts a stop to your unsuccessful efforts by claiming your hands, kissing the knuckles with a smirk. You’re left stricken when his eyes meet yours, hypnotized by the ruby irises that stare deep into your soul.

“Your eyes… Were they… always that colour?” you mumble with a tongue that weighs like lead, but the fog descends on your mind again, rendering you incapable of speech.

“Ah!” you screech. The sudden high-pitch ring returns to block your senses and you cover your ears tightly to try and shake it off. From the din, you hear Jimin call your name desperately, but the pain is too great, and soon, you’re unable to see as a bright light consumes your vision—

Until you sense the same gentle swipe against your closed lids and the searing pain disappears, as though you imagined it all. When you open your eyes again, Jimin’s frowning. You try to remember the last few moments before the pain, only to draw a blank. Have you done something to upset him?

“Are you okay?” There’s a thin sheen of sweat above his brows and you reach out to wipe it away with your sleeve.

“I am,” he whispers despite the obviously pained smile. “But what were you saying?”

“Hm? I only asked if you were okay, sir,” you say hesitantly. Jimin’s acting strangely, ruby irises scouring your face desperately for an answer, but you’re not sure you know the questions to the test he’s given you.

“You were about to say something about my eyes,” he says slowly, evenly, like he’s explaining something to a child.

Your brows furrow. “I was?”

Jimin nods.

“I… don’t remember,” you admit with a shake of your head. Blinking at him now, you wonder why you would make such a comment – if you did. There isn’t anything wrong with his eyes. They’re the usual ruby red, flashing brightly against the light… right?

Yet, you can’t shed the nagging tug, the insistent voice in your brain that’s telling you that something’s wrong, but just as the low throb begins again, Jimin smiles sweetly, like he always does, and you feel at ease. A gentle brush of his knuckles against your cheek silences the part of your brain that’s trying to rationalize everything.

And when his lips return to glide against yours, you don’t remember what it was you were worried about.

“Oh—” You gasp into the kiss as his hand trails shapes on the skin of your thighs. Jimin takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, swiping his tongue over your own. While you tangle your fingers in his hair, he hikes up your skirt and cups his hand over your pussy before he grinds your clit with the heel of his palm.

“Jimin—” Your fingers dig into his neck as you roll your hips into his hand. All of it is too little and too much, you’re unravelling too quickly – burning like a comet as you hurtle into his atmosphere.

Yet Jimin doesn’t stop, refuses to comply though you sob for his fingers; his cock; anything – to satiate the unbearable need to be filled. You claw at his arms, unable to fret over the long red lines you draw across the expanse of his skin. And just when you think you can no longer hang on, Jimin stops, a regretful smile on his face.

“What a shame. That’s all the time we have for now.”

---

“Holy shit!”

You’re up immediately, Jimin’s words still ringing in your ear. You swear you could still feel his hot breath against your skin, as though he was here the night before, but the absence of a warm body next to you signifies that last night was all but a dream.

Yet… it was so much more real than the ones prior.

Usually, you’d wake up recalling just the barest of details: Jimin’s lips curling into a smile or the way he’d coo your name as he draws patterns on your skin. But this time… you remembered everything; your mind highlighting every mole on his perfect porcelain face.

You wanted nothing more than to soothe the ache from between your legs but glancing at the wall clock on the opposite end of your bed suggests that you won’t have time to bring out Mr. Rabbit to play, considering that you have about 15 minutes to get ready before you miss the bus. With a regretful sigh, you left the warm comfort of your bed to brave the day.

---

“Good morning!”

Despite the enthusiastic chatter you’re engaging with your co-workers, you feel anything but. You’re still reeling from the dream, unable to stop recalling the way Jimin’s cool fingers brush against your blazing skin. You leave the pantry with a steaming cup of coffee and a heaving sigh before settling down to work.

Your calendar is full of reds and greens, indicating meetings that Jimin must attend and the ones you must attend with him respectively. A secretary to the CEO is a task that would normally require two people, but ever since your partner left, you’ve been left to work the pace of two people. Though Jimin has suggested that you hire a second person, you have refused, claiming that you’re saving the company resources since you’re capable of doing the tasks just fine on your own. Being so close to Jimin fills you with pride, especially knowing how much he relies on you to keep things running smoothly.

Fortunately, it also comes with you receiving a significant raise, much more than what you’d originally entered with. You have no doubt Jimin is to thank for that, having convinced the Chairman in a meeting to renegotiate the contract. Speaking of your boss, the time on the lower right corner of your screen indicates that he’s late – something that has never happened before in your five years of working together.

Just as your thumb hovers over the green call button, Jimin enters with a brilliant smile, greeting everyone and asking about their weekend. You’re almost annoyed at the way he nonchalantly enters through the door, acting like it doesn’t matter that he’s a few minutes late just because he’s the boss, but mostly because it isn’t fair that he’s doing just fine when you’re left stunned in your shoes; the memories of the dream lingering in the forefront of your mind when your gaze drops to his hands.

You snap to attention as he approaches, slipping on a mask of professionalism as you greet him. “Good morning, Mr. Park. You have a nine o’clock this morning and another one at eleven. Should I bring you the coffee now or in a little bit?”

As Jimin enters his office, he gives you a noncommittal hum, so you follow him inside and close the door behind you, sensing that there’s something in his mind.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he praises with a smile before settling in his desk.

You’re left momentarily speechless, surprised at the sudden compliment. You nod your head in thanks, one Jimin returns with another quirk of his lips. As you stand there in silence as he pulls up his laptop, you allow yourself to admire Jimin in the morning light.

You’d be remiss to say that he isn’t handsome. Everyone in the office, including yourself, may have pined for the young CEO’s attention once or twice since his arrival a few years ago, but you don’t delude yourself into thinking that the harmless banter between you was anything more than friendship. However, it’s moments like these, where he’d catch you off guard with his compliments, that has your heart thumping a little bit faster in response to his honeyed words.

He says your name with a chuckle. “Have I lost you already?” he smiles. You clear your throat and shake your head, stumbling out apologies for daydreaming at work, but Jimin only smiles wider, drumming his fingers on the oak table below.

“Please tell me if you’re not feeling well. Don’t make me worry,” he nags lightly.

You force a bright smile to hide your embarrassment. “I’m feeling just fine, Mr. Park. Better than ever,” you reassure him. “Sorry for spacing out, what were you saying?”

You catch the slight frown on his pouty lips and the strange shadow that flickers in his eyes, the obsidian melting into soft earth under the sun—

Wait a minute.

“Were your eyes always brown?” you blurt out, tilting your head to the side.

Jimin blinks in surprise, lips parted as he inhales sharply at your question. “I’m… sorry?” he mutters incredulously.

Silence.

There’s a creeping feeling of déjà vu as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his. Something is amiss in this image in front of you, but you haven’t figured it out just yet.

Then, a chuckle, though it sounds strained and airy as Jimin breaks through your thoughts. “Of course, my eyes are brown. What other colours could they possibly be?”

An unpleasant fog descends on your mind, and you close your eyes momentarily to see if it’ll go away. When it doesn’t, your heart increases its speed instead, you offer him a pinched smile before turning to leave. You’re more tired than usual it seems, standing is starting to become impossible. You hope that a few hours of sitting at your desk would make you feel better.

“Right. Of course. My apologies, sir. Well, if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you turn around to grab the handle of the door, your vision turns hazy, the images blurring together like remnants from your dreams. You try to blink through the fog, but the more you attempt to push through, the heavier your lids fall. Whatever Jimin is muttering is muffled in your ears, the language sounding foreign like he’s communicating underwater. When you turn around and see him stand, approaching your helpless swaying figure, he’s nothing more than a dark silhouette.

Before you descend into darkness, you think you saw a pair of ruby eyes and a voice, so full of regret, whispers in your ear.

“Sleep now, you’ll feel better when you wake up. I promise.”

---

When you finally blink awake, there’s a black jacket covering your body. It takes you a few seconds to register that you’re lying on a semi-familiar sectional, and you scramble to stand when you recognize the numerous awards decorating the wall in front of you.

The sun casts hues of oranges and yellow from the large window into Jimin’s office and you watch in horror as the door opens to reveal your boss walking inside with a mug in hand.

“Mr. Park! I…” You don’t have an excuse ready for what happened: how you dozed off on his couch for an entire workday.

Jimin holds up a hand to stop your floundering speech. Instead of fury, worry exists in the lines of his brows as he approaches your seated figure. “You should have told me that you weren’t feeling well,” he murmurs gently as he hands you the mug of steaming hot tea. “I’m sorry. I really should have hired a new partner for you when Soyoung quit.”

“N-No. Not at all. I’m sorry for making you worry.”

To your pleasant surprise, he smiles. “No, please. Don’t apologize. As your manager, I’m taking responsibility for going against the company policy. Your job is meant for two people, and though you’ve done a stellar job so far, this only proves that we need to hire someone else.”

Jimin wouldn’t dig at your work ethic like that, you know it better than anyone that it wasn’t what he meant, but you still feel like you disappointed him. You let your heart sink for a few minutes before picking it back up, a new fire of ambition surging behind your eyes. “Mr. Park, if I may be so bold, today is an anomaly. You’ve said yourself that I’ve done a stellar job, so please…”

“Why are you so intent on doing this by yourself?”

Okay, so maybe the teensy crush you’ve developed for him hasn’t fully gone away. You can’t answer his question without revealing your secret, so you merely repeat ‘Please’ with your head bowed.

Silence stifles the air around you as Jimin thinks. “All right, fine,” he says with a reluctant sigh, though his lips quirk into a smile at your insistence. “But please tell me if you start feeling unwell again. Seriously, it’s better you stay home than coming to work sick.”

“Thank you,” you beam gratefully at him before taking a sip at your tea. It tastes pleasant, despite you not being able to pinpoint the flavour. Chamomile maybe? As you finish the last sip, you stand and make your way outside, intent on staying late to catch up on all the work you’ve missed today.

You relay as much to Jimin, but he stops you as you open the door to his office. “Would you do me a favour and grab these files from the file room?” he asks as he hands you a sticky note filled with corresponding dates and numbers. “Now would be preferable, but I’m not leaving any time soon. Oh, and be careful. I think a few of them are placed on the higher shelves.”

His warning falls on deaf ears as you scrutinize the numbers on the note. Strange. Why was he looking for records all the way back to when the company was founded? Figuring that it isn’t your problem, you promise that you’ll bring him the documents in a bit…

Which turns out to be the biggest promise you regret making thus far.

“Ow…” you whimper.

Your ankle stings where you had landed on it, having failed to grab the last file you need, which just so happens to also be placed at the highest shelf. The step ladder you used to reach it wasn’t tall enough, and despite standing on your tiptoes, your fingers barely graze the bottom of the folder. Your fate was sealed when your distracted brain started thinking about the dream you had the night before.

When you attempt to stand to clean the mess you’ve made, gravity pulls you back down when your injured leg is unable to support your weight. Now, you’re sitting on the ground littered with papers, unable to call anyone for help with the shitty cell service in the file room.

Tears well up in your eyes when you think of your sorry state. Would Jimin fire you for your incompetence? Probably not, but it’s been an embarrassing day so far, especially since you spent most of it dozing off on his office couch that’s usually reserved for his guests. You wonder how he fared with all his meetings that you couldn’t attend with him – what sorts of excuses had he come up with when they asked where you were?

“God, I’m pathetic.”

Just as you’re wallowing in your self-pity, the door to the file room opens and you spy Jimin’s blonde hair between the empty shelves.

“Over here,” you answer pitifully when he calls your name.

You can almost see the comically large, pulsing angry symbol as he frowns at your slumped figure.

“I told you to be careful!” he grumbles as he surveys your foot. You cry out when his fingers graze at the ankle, the tears you’ve been holding onto slipping away down your cheeks. Jimin’s eyes soften at your whimpers, and with a gentleness you didn’t know he possesses at the moment; he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s not broken,” he whispers reassuringly. “It’s a little swollen, but I promise you’re going to be better in the morning. Can you stand?”

You shake your head, hiccupping a ‘No’.

“Okay, put your arms around my neck. Yep. Just like that. Now, hold on,” he instructs before lifting you up.

“W-Wait,” you protest as he carries you in the direction of his office. “Aren’t I heavy?”

You could feel the rumbling of his laughter with your cheek pressed against his chest. He chuckles as though you couldn’t have asked a sillier question. “Of course not. You weigh nothing more than a couple of grapes.”

You pray gratefully to whatever deity can hear you because when he turns around the corner, the office is otherwise empty, save for the janitor that has his back turned. Your cheeks are so heated that you plant your face further into his chest, refusing to look at your surroundings. You stopped wondering if Jimin could hear the manic pounding of your heart when you hear his, and you carry that secret with you until you hear the door click shut.

---

Jimin rests you gently on his desk before retrieving a first aid kid from your desk outside of his office. He’s gentle as he examines your foot, taking care not to move it around too much and risk injuring it further.

“Okay, you’re definitely good, but make sure to ice it when you get home, okay? And please call into work if you can’t move tomorrow. I have faith that you absolutely can do your job from home,” he smiles confidently.

True to his word, the sharp pain has since ebbed into a dull throb as you twist your ankle around. Perhaps if you stayed in the file room longer, you wouldn’t have risked embarrassing yourself in front of Jimin, but you won’t lie – you enjoyed being wrapped up in his arms as he carried you into his office.

“Thank you,” you mumble, shifting forward to stand.

“Nuh-uh,” Jimin tuts, stopping you in your tracks with a gentle nudge on your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you’re good to go anywhere, missy. You’re staying here until I finish my work so I can drive you home.”

“But…” you protest, only to have the words die in your throat when he shakes his head firmly. Relenting to his decision, you agree. “Only if I can buy dinner,” you persuade.

“Deal,” Jimin replies with a grin.

---

When the food arrives, you’re mostly done with catching up with your tasks, having worked through most of the evening in silence after Jimin retrieved your laptop from your desk. You didn’t realize you were starving until he returned with a giant white plastic bag’s worth of food. You weren’t sure what he’d like, so you got one of everything, allowing yourself to splurge a little bit after he took care of you that afternoon. Hell, the entire day.

“God, I’m starving,” you comment, closing your laptop to place it on the coffee table in front of you.

Your stomach grumbles louder with each plastic container Jimin opens, the smell of spices mingling deliciously in the air.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he grins, tapping on the plastic plate that was provided in your massive order. “Do you want me to bring the food over to you or can you stand?”

You test your ankle a few times by standing slowly, making sure to put most of your weight on the other leg. Finding your balance is a little tricky, but you’re happy to report that you’re able to at least hobble over to his desk without any chance of falling.

“Careful…” he mumbles as he watches you, arms outstretched as if he’s ready to catch you should you slip and fall. You have no doubt that Jimin would be able to do it too.

“See, I’m fine?” you grin with a roll of your eyes, scooping out some rice and every other side dish that catches your eye.

Jimin joins you on the couch, a hand holding his large stack of food while the other hovers over your elbow despite your protests. As you settled in and began eating, it’s only then that you realized how, dare you say, intimate this was. Of course, you’ve had plenty of company related outings where you end up in a restaurant with just Jimin, but that’s mostly during the day. And here, in his office so late in the evening, the surroundings are akin to a candle-lit dinner, especially since he decided to turn all the lights off aside from his sole table lamp, casting dancing shadows on his face that make your insides flop around while you attempt to focus on your plate instead of his gorgeous face.

When the rest of your dinner has been put away, you’re now left with a limbo in your schedule. On one hand, it’s approaching 9pm, and you still have work tomorrow, so you really should get going, but watching Jimin settle back into his chair, round glasses perched on his nose as he returned to his tasks, you’re reluctant to part from him.

“Do you normally work this late, sir?”

You weren’t paying attention when he had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, but right now, with the sliver of skin on his chest exposed, he doesn’t look like the CEO you’ve worked under for several years now. In fact, you’re reminded just then that you’re about the same age, still relatively young and fresh-faced, and surely the hours he put in outside of work is the reason why he’s able to attain this prestigious title today. Jimin doesn’t reply to your question right away, mumbling a ‘one moment’ under his breath as he types.

“I don’t normally stay this late,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “But a certain secretary of mine decided to play Sleeping Beauty on me today, so I have a bit more work that needs to be done.”

You open your mouth to apologize, but you’re cut off by his boyish grin. “I’m just kidding,” he teases with a wink.

“Well, umm, I should probably clean up the files since I’m mostly done with what I have to do for tomorrow,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Sure, don’t get hurt this time, all right?”

“That’s cold, sir,” you pout at his teasing grin. “My ankle is still a bit numb from the pain.”

You leave Jimin’s office accompanied by the sound of his sweet laughter, and when the door closes shut behind you, you can’t help but lean against it for a moment, smiling to yourself.

---

You spend way too long picking up the scattered papers from the floor due to your earlier injury. By the time you are done, Jimin appears, peeking his head in to ask how you’re doing. You gesture at the stacks of folders on the nearby table in triumph, proud that you were able to complete such a task.

“Colour me impressed.” Jimin examines the stack of folders in admiration, praising you for a job well done.

“Thank you, but this was the least I could do after making such a mess.”

He hums as he surveys the stack, flipping through the first few pages before placing them back down. “I’ll help you carry these upstairs. I wouldn’t want to be sued for negligence,” he chuckles as he picks up a stack.

Ever considerate, Jimin left you a stack to carry by yourself, so you don’t feel useless. You can only grin as you follow him into the elevators (and you may have stolen a few more glances than usual while you were waiting).

“Ah, look how late it’s gotten,” Jimin comments when the two of you reach his office. The old grandfather clock he keeps in there rings eleven times, but despite the lateness of the evening, you’ve yet to feel tired.

After placing your stack of folders onto his desk, you approach the clock out of curiosity. It stands out of place in the modern-looking office, the ornate swirls on the wood a great contrast to most of the sleek black furniture. It’s the first thing you notice when you first meet Jimin in the office all those years ago. You never had a chance to ask him what it’s about despite being so close… and you realize that tonight was a rare occasion for you to satiate that curiosity of yours.

Your fingers trace the swan etched on the side of the clock, admiring the way it comes alive in the wood, wings spread out as though it’s about to take flight in front of you. “What’s the story about this clock? It looks older than I am.”

Jimin looks up from where he sits, gazing warmly at your profile while you play with a relic from his past. “Oh, him?” he smiles fondly, leaning back on his chair. “He’s been with me for over 200 years or so? I’m surprised he still works, to be honest.”

You can only gape in surprise. “You mean this clock has been in your family for over 200 years?”

A shadow passes over Jimin’s face. “…Not quite,” he mutters, though he’s not sure you heard him. “Anyway, he’s given to me by a friend. It’s the only furniture I carry with me from my house every time I get a grand office to myself,” he gestures at the room, splaying his arms wide.

Your fondness for him grows as he talks wistfully about the clock like it's alive. It suits him, you think, how he treats everyone with such kindness, you’re not surprised that it extends to objects as well. Turning back to face the clock, you sigh, knowing that it probably is time for you to leave if you don’t want to risk being late tomorrow morning.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, sir, I think I’ll get going now.”

Jimin looks at the clock and nods, and to your surprise, he stands up from his desk, placing his glasses on top of his keyboard before offering an arm towards you. “All right, I’ll walk you to your car. It’s awfully late and I don’t want anything to happen to my favourite secretary.”

The compliment makes you laugh, butterflies threatening to burst from your stomach. “I believe I’m your only secretary, sir.”

“Ah, I meant what I said,” he winks.

Just as you’re crossing the threshold of his office, your heels catch on the edge of his rug, sending you tumbling forward with a yelp. You expect your flailing arms to catch yourself when you hit the floor, but the impact never comes because Jimin’s suddenly right there, strong arms holding your waist as his eyes expand in shock.

“Are you all right!?” he half-shouts. “You really should be more careful!”

You can barely listen to his nagging because your hands are pressed on his sculpted chest, a sliver of skin peeking through from where he undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat as you graze the heated skin with your fingertips, and you hear Jimin inhale sharply – whatever words he was uttering caught in his throat as he zeroes in on your hands.

He whispers your name oh-so quietly, caressing every syllable with his tongue, and you slowly bring your eyes to his face. Jimin traps you in his hypnotizing gaze, never letting you break away, not even when your heart pounds so loudly against your ribcage, you’re sure it’s about to breakthrough; not even when your breaths turn into shallow staccatos, your head beginning to swim from the lack of oxygen. You can sense the strong emotion that rests behind those knowing eyes, and as you continue to stare, you wonder if it matches the one you hold in yours.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you murmur.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me?” You didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but your voice catches in your throat when Jimin leans in, his eyes drooping close.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispers, lips ghosting over yours, faces merely inches apart.

“Yes.”

The breathless affirmation barely left you when Jimin attaches his lips to yours, kissing you with the same urgency that you’ve felt in your dreams, only this time it’s real. One of his hands travel from your waist to cup the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your cheek. He catches the bottom of your lip with his teeth, tugging it lightly to make you moan against his hold.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he rasps into your skin as he undoes your blouse. “To touch you; to kiss you this way… You’ll be the death of me.” Every word is punctuated with a searing kiss, his lips setting your skin ablaze when he passes by your neck, your jaw, your collarbone.

“Ah—Jimin,” you gasp, tugging the ends of his blonde locks as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Jimin lifts you up with little effort, his mouth never leaving your neck until he sets you down gently on his desk; his things thrown haphazardly on the floor below with a sweep of his arm.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles at your half-naked state. His thumb swipes over a pebbled nipple, causing you to arch your back with a whimper. He lets his nail scratch gently along the sides of your breasts, almost absentmindedly, while he watches your reactions with amusement. “Would you let me see all of you?”

All you can muster is a breathy ‘Please’.

You help him remove the remainders of your clothing to join the mess on the floor, your body shivering as you lay naked on his desk. Jimin hums as he traces your curves with the palm of his hand, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. “Let me take care of you first, yeah?”

With wide eyes, you watch him sink to the floor while his strong hands push your legs apart to reveal your glistening slit. Jimin breathes in deeply as he kisses along your thighs, his lips leaving a trail of reminders before he dives in.

“Jimin…” you whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue along your folds.

Jimin notices the way your spine locks in place when he repeats the action. “Relax for me, sweetheart. I got you.” A hand reaches out from below to intertwine with yours and he gives you a firm squeeze before resuming his task.

He starts out slow – dragging the flat of his tongue across your folds while his remaining hand circles around your entrance. You’re left shaking where you lay, unable to connect your thoughts together to stammer out a coherent sentence. All that’s left in your brain is his name, increasingly becoming permanent with every second that goes by.

When he feels your body relax underneath him, Jimin prods your entrance with his tongue, sinking in and out of your hole as you pulse around him before he replaces it with a finger, and then two. You hiss at the slight burn, squeezing the hand you’re holding into a tight grip.

“Relax,” he reminds you gently, swiping his thumb across your pale knuckles. “Focus on nothing else but me.”

“More…” you mewl, shivering under his grip. “Praise me more.”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. Instead of a sassy remark, you receive the soothing lilt in his voice. “Good girl,” he whispers. “My good girl. You’re doing so well; look at this cunt greedily sucking me in.”

You’re lavished in praise, though his voice shifts into a deep growl with every coax of his fingers inside you. And when his thumb swipes across your clit, the tight tether you held onto slowly unravels.

“Are you close, sweetheart? God, you’re really tight,” he hisses before replacing his thumb with his mouth. “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe, burning like a thousand suns under his attention. “I’m so close!”

“Let go for me. I’m right here,” Jimin reassures you in whispers before silencing himself with your taste.

“Jimin!”

You think you screamed, but you can’t be too sure, not when your body is pulled apart and pieced together as you come undone before him. You’ve never had an orgasm like this – a great abyss threatening to pull you under as the waves slams against your wavering figure repeatedly. Through it all, Jimin drinks your essence, his sleeves soaked through as he continues to thrust into your walls.

“I can’t—not anymore,” you protest weakly.

“You can and you will. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Your feeble attempts to push his head away stop at his emphasis. “That’s it,” Jimin praises as your hand returns to your side before planting a series of kisses along your folds, “Just relax one more time for me, okay?”

Jimin is by no means gentle this time around, slipping a third finger inside before increasing his pace. His once sweet words morph into growls laced with passion, washing your body aflame with desire. “God, you’re so fucking tight. This tiny cunt can barely fit my fingers, I’m not certain you’ll be able to fit all of me inside,” he grunts. “Do you think you can handle the stretch?”

You can barely keep your eyes open through his taunts, your mind spiralling out of control as you focus on the pleasure derived from his fingers. The answer you give him is intelligible, a choked whine of his name in place of agreement.

“Oh?” Jimin lifts an eyebrow at your state. “Too fucked out to talk already? I’ve barely started,” he chuckles. “What’s wrong, baby?” In his dangerously low voice, the otherwise cute pet name sounds demeaning. “Are my fingers too much for you?”

He tuts in disapproval when a beat lapses without a coherent response. Then, like sweet torture, his pace switches into a snail’s crawl. “I don’t know if you can take me in if you’re this out of it with just my fingers. Squeeze my hand once if you want to continue. Twice if you want to stop.”

“No!” The protest you utter is whiny and grating to your ears, and your attempt to sit up fails when your body refuses to peel itself away from his desk. “Don’t stop, please? So close.” That was… barely a sentence, but you beg silently that it does the job. Remembering his request, you squeeze the hand you’re holding once to reassure him.

Jimin smiles at your resilience. “Okay, but we’ll go slow this time. Ah, ah,” he tuts when you begin to whine. “Slow or not at all. Your choice.”

You grit your teeth at the illusion of choice, but the pace he’s set doesn’t seem so bad at all. With a great sigh, you relent to his wishes. “Slow,” you whisper. “We can go slow. I promise I’ll be good, sir.”

“Sir?” he muses with a raised brow. “Hmm… Well, I do like the sound of that. And what about you? Do you like ‘sweetheart’,” he plants a kiss on your thigh. You shiver. “…’baby’,” another kiss, this time higher, “…’pet’?” Jimin replaces his fingers with his mouth as he makes out with your cunt, his tongue slipping in and out of your pulsing hole. Face soaked with your arousal; he returns his fingers in their rightful place, eyes glinting with mischief as he fucks you slowly. “Or maybe, you prefer something harsher… how about ‘slut’?” Jimin attaches his mouth on your clit, grazing the nub ever-so-gently with his teeth.

Your gasp slips into a moan at the spine-chilling sensation, your eyes rolling back. “Love it—ah! Call me whatever you w-want.”

“My good, pretty slut. So turned on she’s making a mess all over my desk. I’m sure the smell will linger for days,” he chuckles into your skin. “Oh, look at you, clenching hard around my fingers. You like the thought of me walking inside my office tomorrow and thinking of you, huh? I’ve always known you were territorial. Isn’t that why you won’t let me hire a partner for you? Staking your claim as the only person that always has access to me?” At your subtle nod, his smile widens into a mischievous grin. “Looks like I was wrong about you being good. You’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?”

Jimin couldn’t help the taunts coming out from his mouth, the true nature of his being – the need to corrupt – showing itself through the cracks in the control he wields. And you… so responsive, beyond anything he’s ever imagined. Your body is so sensitive that it doesn’t require him to use his powers at all. Maybe the dreams he’s been poisoning you with have taken affect. The thought saddens him somehow. Could this not have happened without the use of his powers after all? Was he nothing without them?

Caught in his thoughts, Jimin doesn’t realize the stutter in his movements. He’s about to apologize when you interrupt him, as you assume that it’s your fault for not responding to his questions. “Sir, please! I swear I’m a good girl. Please don’t stop… I’m so close.”

His spirits lift at the sight of you mewling before him, your body jumping with every crook of his fingers inside. No, he thinks, it’s time for him to focus on you and nothing else, resonating with his earlier advice. He releases a little bit of his power, letting it mingle with the air to heighten your senses. “If you’re so good, cum for me then,” he breathes, drowning you in praise and kisses along your heated skin. “One more time. Let me hear you call my name one more time.”

“Jimin—” you obey, breathless and shaking. “Jimin.”

His name is a prayer etched upon your lips and with every inhale, Jimin’s unaware of the mark he’s left, not just riddled along your skin, but at the very core of your heart. This time, when you come undone, it’s with a blazing inferno, your body calling out to your release and a strong desire for him to be yours.

“That’s it. Let go.”

So, you do. With your heart trapped in your throat, pounding along to the tune of his fingers; with your nails scratching the back of his hand that you’ve held through the entire duration; and with all your adoration, pouring out from every crevice you didn’t know existed in your body.

This time, when you beg him to stop, Jimin listens. He stands to claim your lips sweetly, engulfing them with his, a slow kindling in comparison to before. Your eyes can barely open, but when you manage to peek, you see the knot of concentration resting on his brows. The smile finds its way into the kiss, one that Jimin reciprocates. It doesn’t matter that you can taste your saltiness on his tongue, because all that exists now is Jimin.

Jimin, your attentive boss, who’s always had his team’s best interest in mind.

Jimin, the harmless flirt, who reminds you every day that you’re beautiful when he catches you staring at your reflection in the mirror with a cocky grin.

Jimin, colleague, friend, and hopefully lover.

You intertwine your arms around his neck to pull him deeper, closer, until there’s not an inch of air between your bodies. What you’re doing hardly constitutes as kissing – lips gliding across each other. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, making them heavier than before. When you part, there’s beautiful silence, a serenity created from unspoken words, though there’s a quiet certainty that both parties feel the same way despite their unshared feelings.

“Jimin, I…” you begin to whisper, the confession sitting idly on your tongue. Your lids are heavy, refusing to open despite your desire to see his face. “That was incredible.”

Jimin nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in, sweat and all. “Satisfied?”

You chuckle breathlessly, a shaky hand absentmindedly playing with his hand. “I don’t know if I can stand, injury aside. I’m pretty sure my legs are wobbly.”

“I can always carry you to your car,” he hums. “Better yet, let me take you home.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Jimin helps you up with a firm hand on your back before handing you the clothes he threw earlier on the floor. When your hands are too shaky to loop the buttons of your blouse, he chuckles and takes over, so you take the time to admire his beauty – at the now-messy blonde hair that frames the sides of his face, a complete disarray compared to his normal slicked-back look; at his cheeks, dotted crimson from exertion; and all the way to the satisfied smirk resting on that perfect pout. Oh, you can kiss him all day.

Naturally, your gaze gravitates to his eyes, and you smile when you notice his expanded pupils, how they almost engulf the crimson of his irises that they’re almost black.

…Crimson?

Your hand wraps around his wrist to stop his current task while your eyes search his face for an explanation.

At the death grip circling around his wrists, he stares into your wide eyes with confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

“Red,” is all you say, a whisper of disbelief, but it’s enough for Jimin to connect the dots.

There’s a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

“Shit!” He rips his hands away to turn around and shield his eyes from yours. Jimin has used his power the entire day, and now he’s left spent, an empty battery, unable to erase your memory and change his appearance. He tries to think of an excuse – something to put you at ease for now, but nothing would make sense, and his panicking brain has left the building in lieu of aiding him.

Red. Just like your dreams. The feeling of déjà vu, the heavy fog that puts you to sleep… was it all his doing? Your face pales into horror as you look for an answer in his quaking shoulders. It couldn’t be… right?

“Are you the reason for my dreams?” You had to make sure. He can’t be the reason for it… right? When he doesn’t respond, you leave the desk and approach his figure. “Jimin?”

Just before your hand touches his back, Jimin moves away. “Stay back,” he murmurs in warning. “I… I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

You retract your hand away, but you’re firm in your stance, refusing to move until you have an explanation. “Tell me. Just who are you?”

Jimin struggles with his options. Erasing your memory is the safest bet, but it’s a power he has yet to master. The fickle nature of the magic would mean that he’d risk losing this entire night with you. Going back to your relationship before would be agony. There was no way he’d be able to be the same boss, you’d spy the longing on his face a mile away. No, erasing your memory was not an option… so, what does that leave him?

“The truth.” You voice his thoughts so easily. “I want to know the truth.”

This entire day was all wrong. You weren’t supposed to find out so soon. He figured he could hide his true nature a little longer, but now any hopes of a relationship with you have been thrown out the window… all because he couldn’t maintain his control over his powers. Stupid. So, stupid. He’d have to relocate, so he doesn’t have to see your face.

The soft call of his name breaks him from his thoughts, like a hand reaching out into the darkness. In his agony, he accepts your help, which means turning around to face you.

To face the truth.

A gasp leaves your lips. And then he begins.

“I’m not human, though I don’t doubt you’ve probably figured it out.” Jimin offers a rueful smile that you don’t reciprocate. You clamp your lips to avoid interrupting, letting him explain from the very beginning.

Your mind whirls with information about supposed mythical beings of old. When you ask how long he’s walked the earth, he winces. “Too long,” Jimin mumbles, but doesn’t delve further into the matter. You don’t broach the subject either. Jimin explains that he’s an incubus, who feasts on dreams to regain energy, but he swears he only takes a little at a time and that it hasn’t affected any of his previous targets.

You skirt over the fact that there’s been others before you. It makes sense, but the ugly green monster that rears its head is less rational than you are.

“So, your previous… targets,” your lips curl in disgust at the word, “don’t remember their dreams… Why do I remember mine?”

Jimin shrugs and stays silent, though you have a feeling it’s not from lack of knowledge.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper with regret.

Though he isn’t surprised by your decision, his heart breaks all the same. He hangs his head in shame, letting the curtain of his hair shield you from his tears. Of course, you’d feel cheated; manipulated. Any rational human would assume so – that their emotions are completely fabricated because of his powers, even he couldn’t be deluded enough to believe the possibility of your feelings to be genuine. Yet, your next words bring a flutter of hope in his heart.

“10… 15 years will go by like a blink of an eye and everyone will begin to wonder why you haven’t changed.” You shake your head, not in disbelief, but to rid the thoughts of a domestic life ahead with him as you begin to lay the foundation of a wall around your heart. “And if we have kids…” That’s a delusion too far in the future, but you’d be lying to say you hadn’t thought of it. You shake your head once. Firmly. Discarding all hopes of a future with Jimin.

When you lift your head to apologize for a final time, you’re surprised to find him amused instead of grief-stricken.

“What?”

Jimin can hardly contain his excitement. “So… your only problem is time-related? That I won’t grow old with you?”

Was he insinuating that your concerns are stupid? “Okay, Mr. Demon,” you scowl. “What other problems should I be worried about?”

He chuckles quietly before reaching out, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek. Your body turns rigid, and you’re hardly breathing. With a wicked grin, he whispers, “How about the fact that I have the ability to compel you to serve me? Haven’t you considered that I, a demon, may be dangerous?”

This time, it’s your turn to laugh. Through your heaving breaths, you manage to see the pout on his face, which only makes you laugh harder. “Jimin,” you chuckle, wiping your tears with the palm of your hand. “I have no doubt that you would have done it already if you wanted to. So, yes, I’m more worried about the time thing.”

“Does that mean…” he whispers, hopeful. “Does that mean you want to grow old with me?”

“Yes. I mean no! I mean—”

“Please,” he cuts you off. “The truth.”

It isn’t fair how he used your words against you, but you answer him anyway. “I don’t know if we should jump into talking about marriage so quickly,” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I mean! We’re not even dating yet.”

“Then be my girlfriend.”

You must be hearing things. “What?”

Jimin takes a step towards you, his palm now fully resting against your cheek. “I mean it. If your only issue is time, I already have a solution. I gave up my immortality a year ago now,” he confesses. His crimson eyes hold the same intense yearning you’re too familiar with: of sleepless nights alone, and of unsatisfactory touches from strangers. “I would’ve explained everything to you if you hadn’t found out today, but, I guess this is sort of fate?”

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “In all my time on this earth, I’ve never met someone like you, and I don’t think I’ll meet another after you either. That’s why it must be you. Even an immortal being dies eventually, and I’d rather choose my way of ‘going’, so to speak.”

Jimin lets the words sink in, waiting patiently for your response. “You meant it all?” you parrot, stunned at the confession. “How long have you been… interested in me?” Was it too early to say ‘love’? Depending on his answer, you assume so.

“When you introduced yourself five years ago in this office,” he sighs wistfully, stealing a glance at his door like he’s relieving the memory. “All I’ve wanted to do was to touch you;” he leans in, face inching closer.

“To kiss you;” he whispers as his lips mould against yours.

“To hold you.” Jimin wraps you up in an embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. In your ears, he whispers, a final confession that eases all your worries. “I want to grow old with you.”

The sincerity in his voice brings you to tears, and you let them fall, soaking the white of his shirt grey.

“Hey, hey, are you crying? Did I say something wrong? Please don’t cry…” Jimin frets, lowering himself to hook his chin on your shoulder, so he could squeeze you tighter.

You nuzzle further into his chest with a teary chuckle. “N-No. Nothing’s wrong. Just happy.”

“Good,” he mumbles before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Although now that I think about it, I haven’t heard your response.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you forgotten already?” he chuckles. “I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“More like demanded,” you snicker. “But yes, I’d love nothing more, but you’re going to have to prove yourself to me first.”

Jimin lights up at your response, the ruby in his eyes glowing bright despite the dim light. “Of course, anything you ask, I’ll do it. I’ll show you every day that my feelings are genuine.”

He then proceeds to hold up his pinkie towards you. “As long as you promise to stay with me?”

With a laugh, you join your pinkie with his, sealing the promise with a final kiss.

“I do.”

moon's notes: i didn't include sex in this because i'm kind of bored of writing it tbh? but i will have a drabble out sometime next week for this couple because i love them so so much! what do you think about the dulce somnii universe so far? do you like it? what theories do you have for the other members 👀

thanks for being part of the taglist (1/2)!

You, on the other hand, had shifted degrees like a professional driver shifts lanes. Recklessly and with speed. Which meant that you found yourself in the awkward position of having to pick electives to supplement your grades. And the prospective list looked bleak. You divided them by what you would like to do, versus what you should do; needless to say you haven’t even glanced at the should do side of the list. Well, except economics. But Hana was right. You needed to pick something easy to pass instead of trying to look smart.

Scanning the list again, you were ready to give up when something caught your eye and with a glint of satisfaction you turned back towards Hana. “What about cooking?”

If someone asked you further down the line what your proudest moment in life was, you’d definitely have this one in your top ten. Having just taken a sip of her coffee, your question made her sputter it out, the overly sweetened beverage spilling everywhere. With a frown of feigned disgust you handed her tissues, making sure she was alright before you continued.

“Look, it may sound stupid. But you know I am good at it. Well, baking. But how difficult can cooking be? I can cook a decent meal.” You stated matter of factly. The more you spoke about the idea the more appealing it sounded.

“But–“ Hana coughed once more as you patted her back, cooing at her empathetically. “You and cooking. It’s what you do most of the time! Can you not find something less,” she gestured as if to swat the idea out of your head. “Less domestic?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her attempt to dissuade you. You both knew your mind was already made up though.

“You said an easy pass right?” Getting up you took the list with you, making sure everything was put back in your bag. “This is certain to be an easy pass. What could go wrong?”

Making your way out of the cafeteria you smiled to yourself, the taste of your graduation sweet on your tongue. If you had confidence in anything, it would be your cooking skills. You may not be the best chef out there, but your abilities were decent enough to get you a good mark in this class. Baking on the other hand, was a whole different story. After years of pestering your grandmother into the kitchen whenever she would make her tartes, millefeuille and other delectable desserts, you could say you’ve picked up an unbeatable talent. You were damn good at it, and you wouldn’t ever see yourself as less.

Still grinning, as you passed by the rambunctious group of freshers, you shook your head at their excitement. Almost feeling sorry for them, your eyes trailed to the back of the cafeteria whereupon you were greeted by the sourest of faces you could’ve ever encountered. Halting in your step, your smile awkwardly frozen on your face, your eyes met with the unmistakable frown of a very old acquaintance.

“Namjoon?” You couldn’t help but choke on your own spit. The surprise of having seen your former next door neighbour, not only in the same city as you but at the same university, froze you on the spot. Staring at him for a second too long, it took your brain a moment to figure out that he was staring right back, and that frown was directed towards you. You shook yourself out of your stupor, the smile on your face slipping into a grimace. Before you could slip and yell something less than tasteful at him, you turned around and made your way out of the cafeteria, hoping it was the last time you encountered him. A split second too quick – too quick to see the spark of recognition morphing into a crestfallen expression on said man’s face.

A minute earlier, Namjoon had been sitting at the table with his newly made friends, a group of loud boys, who shared a similar interest in literature, art, and music. When he spotted you, he’d just been thinking how mellow this year would be for him. Only, as soon as his eyes locked on you, the frown he sported deepened, a pure accident caused by one of his friends teasing about him being there. True, he was similar to an ‘exchange’ student. Only, he was not from abroad, he grew up not far from here. But going to university in Canada, and doing a year back in this city clearly made it seem as if he was a ‘stranger’.

Your frozen form, and obvious displeasure at encountering him, made his heart drop. He’d hoped you would be able to talk to each other again after years of not having any contact. But the look on your face made it clear that it was not the case. So before he could do something stupid, like jump up and chase after you, he turned back to his friends hoping it wasn’t the last he saw you.

=====

Sometimes you wondered what you’d done for the universe to punish you in such a way. Maybe karma had it out for you, maybe in your previous life you’d done something irreversible and you deserved such punishment in this life. But to you it felt unfair, it must have been something incredibly awful. Because to be sitting in your newly elected cooking class, and to be staring straight into Namjoon’s dark eyes and dimpled smile as he sat down a few rows away from you, felt like torture.

Here’s to hoping, my ass. You shook your head, deciding to ignore the six foot broad chested man seated a few rows behind you. Somehow, even though your luck seemed to have ended somewhere along with entering your final year of college, you hoped that you still had a shot. Maybe this is a theory class. Try as you might, you knew it wouldn’t be. There was no such thing as an actual theory class in cooking. Sure, you may learn a few new skills verbally taught to you, but cooking was a hands-on experience. Cooking was all about getting dirty in the kitchen. And getting dirty in this kitchen, staring at Namjoon’s stupid face, was not something you wanted to do.

“Good morning everyone.” Your teacher sauntered into the class, a thick binder under their arm. “Today is just an introductory lesson, so everyone can relax.” She turned around laughing under her breath. “This is a cooking class after all. There is no need to be so tense.” Gesturing to the first row of students who looked a bit worse for wear - probably freshers who had very little sleep and too much alcohol, she propped herself onto the desk.

“I would start with introductions,” she started and you hear a couple of loud groans, tempted to follow them. Why did lecturers insist on making you introduce yourselves, it was beyond you. Not like you were incapable of making friends in class. Turning around you scanned the faces around you trying to see if there was someone you recognised, but when your eyes met a certain pair of dark ones you quickly turned back to facing the front. Well maybe except one. “–but I find them boring.” Your teacher continued and you could feel the tension lift from your shoulders and if the hoots following that were anything to go by everyone agreed with you.

“So instead I am going to make you pair up in groups and have you play a game.” She clapped her hands excitedly and you felt as if the rug had slipped from under you with such force, you swore your heart would stop from the impact.

Not only was Karma intent on laughing in your face today, but apparently your teacher sided with it. As she directed people from sides of the room into groups the only thing you could think of was not to be placed with a specific person. But of course, as if life was not hard enough on you, (yes, you were being overly dramatic), you found yourself face to face with a broad chest and a sharp angular jaw.

“Kim.” You greeted, trying your hardest to slip out of the already made group, hoping that the teacher would think she missed you and assign you to another group. Of course, stepping around a six foot door of a man was not as easy as you thought it would be. Not when he stepped to the same side as you, blocking your path completely. “Can you move?” You narrowed your eyes, not ready to start an argument in the middle of the class, especially not when you had a higher authority in the same room as you.

“Y/N.” He greeted you as if you hadn’t just spat an insult at him. “Still as pleasant as ever I see.” His small smile looked genuine, and for a second you stared at him, thrown off by the agreeable attitude that he had towards you. Last time you spoke, he was less than pleasant, and you would never forget his words. Hopefully this is the last time I see you.

Those words haunted your soul for years to come. Those words affected you so much that every other person you encountered would be met with resistance and mistrust. After years of pining and years of picking up the shards of your heart because of him, you began to agree. You hoped you’d never see him again.

“Oh, me?” Your eyes widened innocently and you would’ve patted yourself on the back for your acting skills. “Always pleasant, just not to assholes.” You kept your eyes on him, enough to see his jaw go slack, and with satisfaction buzzing underneath your skin you sidestepped around him looking to speak to your teacher.

You found her in the middle of the second group, letting everyone know once more that this was a cooking class, something you were definitely bound to have fun with and you grimaced to yourself. The knowledge that there was a particular six foot man not more than a dozen feet behind you, made you think that she was off her rockers for even suggesting that. Still, with hope blooming in your heart that you may actually have fun if only separated from said man, you approached her as she was preparing to move onto the next group.

“Uh–“ You looked at her unsure of how to start. There is an asshole in my group and I would like to be nowhere near him? That didn’t sound like a plausible excuse. Especially not one to present to your own teacher. Your friends later, maybe. If you found the need to shoot yourself in the foot and place yourself willingly under their scrutiny. But you’d spent your last few years charming your professors, so with a quick self reassurance you formulated a decent excuse in your head.

“Ah, Y/N. Right?” She nodded at you and you froze, any thought yeeted out of your mind. Nodding dumbly at her you tried hard to think of a reason as to why she’d even know your name only to come up short, until she continued. “You won that baking competition in your first year.” She supplied and it finally clicked, she had been one of the judges during it. To your credit, it was a first year folly, when your overconfidence and pride in your skills as a baker made you enter it with no qualms. Even though the cooking society was all enrolled in said game, and your friends kept questioning your certainty, you adamantly insisted that your skills were up to par with theirs. If not even better.

Turned out that your carefully thought out lemon creme millefeuille that you slaved over for months that year, almost not passing your compulsory classes because of it, was good enough to surpass anyone’s expectations. And so, with your pride intact and your certificate in hand, you proudly showed everyone up.

“Ah, yes.” You mumbled, unsure of your plan and whether it was going to work anymore.

“I am excited to have you in this class.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled widely at you. There was a spark in her eyes that made you think twice about your decision. You weren’t one to please teachers, but you remembered her, and her encouragement when you presented your pastry to the judges. Asking her to change your group or even drop out of the class felt as good as kicking a puppy. “I hope you don’t mind,” she leaned towards you, her voice dropping below a whisper, “ I added you at the top of the list as one of the best cooks in case we need some balance in the teams that we have.” You nodded dumbly at her, still unsure of what she was implying.

Staring at you expectantly, her brows furrowed when you showed no comprehension and you sincerely hoped she didn’t think you were stupid, you just had a very bad tendency to not interpret things the right way. “Means, Y/N that if there is someone lacking in this class you will be helping them out.” She further explained. “Is there anything that you needed?” You may have been bad at interpretation, but the rapid downturn of lips and the lack of emotion in her question told you that she was done talking to you. Shaking your head at her, you turned round to make your way back towards your group before she stopped you.

“Y/N, do remember though, cooking is not the same as baking.”

If someone watched you closely as you made your way towards your six person group, they surely would’ve seen a very accurate representation of a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Got told off?” Namjoon questioned, the quirk of his brow setting you off as soon as you sat down.

“What’s it to you, Kim?” You bit out, narrowing your eyes at him. You knew that your little spat had already garnered the attention of everyone in the group, but you found it hard to care. Not when all you could see was Namjoon’s stupid smirking face and his goddamn dimples.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just heard you were the best cook around so I am just surprised to see you not getting your way.” He sounded so blasé that it gave you a hard time deciding whether or not he was mocking you.

“Are you saying I'm kissing the teacher’s ass?” You tried to muster all the strength in you to not burst out in a string of curses aimed at his face. Instead you chose to huff and mumble under your breath something that sounded akin to “shove it” and “piss off.”

Before he could respond, the teacher’s loud voice interrupted him and you were grateful for the respite. Despite your aversion to him, you were more than excited to start the course and get a chance to display your abilities in the kitchen.

======

You were both seven when he and his family happened to move in next to your home. You could distinctly remember the moment; it was the first sweltering hot summer in a while. Sometimes if you closed your eyes and tried hard enough, you could still imagine the colour of your bike as you rode down the road heading back from your swimming lessons. The moving truck that was in the way of you reaching your destination was a mild inconvenience. And it proved to become a bigger one as you swerved to pass around it onto the sidewalk, almost knocking into the unsuspecting body crouched down to the side of it.

The boy fell on his backside as you tried to get a hold of your bike, only for your breaks to cause you to slam right into the pavement in a heap. The explosion of pain coming from your newly bruised knee was only shadowed by the irritation you could feel bubbling up inside of you at the careless person. Sniffling, you glanced around in an attempt to get a good look at whomever caused you to crash so inelegantly only to spot a boy, no older than you, as he tried to get ahold of his bearings.

“Watch where you are going.”

He paused midway from getting up, his eyes narrowing in your direction.

“Why should I? It’s you who needs to watch where you’re going! I wasn’t even moving!” He rose to full height, chest puffed, hands on his hips – an attempt to look intimidating.

Taking him in from head to toe you tried not to snicker only to fail as a snort escaped you. He looked ridiculous, in his baby blue shorts and short sleeved shirt, socks pulled up to his knees and sandals.

“What?” He sounded indignated and mildly closer to you than before.

“I- just… nothing.” You covered your mouth quickly, a physical attempt to stop your giggles from hurtling you back onto the floor. “You look ridiculous.” As soon as the words escaped you, it was as if the dam had broken. The laughter that shook your body made you unable to carry on with your plan of getting off the pavement, your head hung low as you developed hiccups.

“I don’t!” You couldn’t see but you could swear he stomped his foot onto the ground, and just the imagery itself was enough to send you back into laughter. “Stop laughing!” He huffed, pausing as his eyes took in your bleeding knee.

“Are you a masochist?” He gasped out. That was enough to stop your laughter straight in your throat. You thought for a second of his wording, your brain trying to decipher what he meant only to come up short.

“A what?” Finally calm enough to get off the floor you got up, your full height almost as tall as his and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“A masochist.” He added simply and you could tell by the way the corner of his mouth lifted that he was feeling smug about a word he knew and you didn’t. You narrowed your eyes at him. You didn’t know him at all, but you decided then and there you didn’t like him.

“No.” Trying to sound confident you mimicked his stance, hands on your hips chest puffed. Seeing him about to refute and deciding that you were done with him showcasing his brain, you countered. “Why are you so short? You are a boy. I thought boys were meant to be tall.”

“You-“ stopping before he could even get his words out his eyes widened. “It doesn’t matter whether I am a boy or a girl or what my height is!” He tried to sound smart only for your mocking laughter to spur him on. “Besides, you may just be freakishly tall! You masochist! Who laughs whilst bleeding?”

Mid laughter his words registered in your head and before he could continue insulting you, you threw a quick glance at your knee, the long scrape finally making itself known to you, the stinging sensation hitting you like a freight train. Biting your lip you did your best to not burst into tears, not allowing your weakness to be displayed whilst you were trying to put this showoff in his place. The pain made it more difficult and without your consent, two stray tears made their way down your face. Embarrassed and humiliated you let your head hang low.

“Are you…ok? It’s not too bad. Stop crying. Look, my name’s Namjoon and I just moved here.” The boy sounded too close for comfort, you could almost feel the heat radiating off of his body, the warm summer sun heating the both of you up like eggs in a frying pan. Sniffling, you intercepted the hand that was ready to be placed on your shoulder.

“Just leave me alone.” You spat at him, at Namjoon. You didn’t know why, but his words made you feel even more irritated. “This is all your fault.” You sniffed trying in vain to get a hold of your tears.

Namjoon stared at you, mouth wide open trying to make sense of what you were saying. The blame that you threw on him stifled his worry giving way for annoyance to replace it. “How is it my fault!? You went onto the pavement with your bike, I was just sitting there!” He tried to defend himself.

“It’s your stupid truck. Why did you have to move here?” You stomped your foot looking up at him, your teary eyes catching him off guard as he reeled back at the sight. “I hate you Namjoon.”

That was your first meeting with the boy, maybe you should have taken it as a warning. A warning to not let yourself get too close to him. But when you have little to no friends around and your movement is limited, what can you do but seek solace with the next door neighbour.

At first, the scrawny boy with jet black hair that used to run around the backyard, one that was connected to yours, was of no importance to you and your group of friends. Namjoon’s antics were not of your concern, and you made it clear to all of your friends that he was not to be trusted. Then as summer passed and your friends one by one decided to befriend Namjoon outside of your back garden play time you had no choice but to forfeit. In your defence it wasn’t your idea, you just had no one else to turn to.

The last days of summer were bleeding into the crisper autumnal weather when you finally spoke to him without feeling the need to kick him in the shins. Sat behind an old oak tree, right outside your house, you were sighing the minutes away, your foot impatiently tapping on the ground. Your friends told you they would meet you to go to the park on your bikes, yet it’s been hours since that was meant to happen and they had yet to make an appearance. Finally when the once bright blue sky turned into the light colour of peach as the late afternoon rolled by you decided you’d had enough of waiting for them. Before you could sit up, you heard a door slam. As you spied the lanky boy next door he casually made his way towards you, hands in his pockets.

“You’ve been waiting for a while.” He commented, his frame towering over your seated one. Crouching down next to you, you quickly shuffled to the side – God forbid he touched you.

“No I haven’t.” Your rebuttal came without you thinking about it. You didn’t know what possessed you to lie to him. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want him to mock you on your friends not showing up, maybe it was the fact that you were embarrassed at having been left alone for so long. You didn’t know, but you could certainly feel the heat creeping up towards your cheeks.

“It’s ok, Y/N. You don’t have to be brave. They’re not coming, but that is their loss.” He shrugged and your eyes snapped towards him in confusion. Sensing your gaze on him he turned his head and smiled lightly at you; as if he had no knowledge of daily worries places about his shoulders. Motioning towards the sky he simply shrugged. “Look.”

You didn’t trust him, not by a mile, but when he motioned for you to look up you did without questioning him. What you witnessed left you breathless.

The sky had turned into the deep rich colours of pink and dark blue as nighttime decided it was time to make an appearance. The colours were specific for this time of the year, the atmosphere making it possible for stars to litter the canvas above you.

“See, it’s beautiful and they’re all missing it.” Namjoon spoke smartly from next to you. Closing the mouth you didn’t realise had fallen open as you were marvelling at the sight you felt a small smile creep up.

“Do you make it a habit to diss your friends Namjoon?” You looked at him teasingly, taking your eyes off of the gorgeous sight before you. The way his skin glowed in the last hours of light, the light cast making his eyes sparkle brighter than the stars above you; you decided this sight was just as pretty.

Namjoon sputtered and fumbled with his words, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “No- I mean…” Your carefree laughter at his display made him pause, eyes fixed on you, mouth slightly agape.

“What?” His intense stare burned holes into the side of your face, and you felt the heat creep back over your face as you swallowed uncomfortably.

“Ah- uh- ah! Look, there's Ursa Major!” Namjoon pointed a bit behind you, his attempt to diffuse the situation successful as you looked to where he was pointing. The sharp intake of breath made him smile gently, your amazement at the simple things he was showing you warming his heart until he felt it close to bursting with emotion.

“Are you interested in stars, Namjoon?” You asked as you looked back at him and this time, it was his turn to flush. Nodding he cleared his throat.

“Yes, uh, I– it’s a favourite pastime of mine. Aside from swimming.” He added quickly and you giggled.

“Tell me more.” You said excitedly.

You didn’t know when you shifted closer towards him, or when your tired head leaned onto his shoulder, what you did know was that from that moment on, you and the scrawny boy shared an odd relationship. You weren’t friends but you weren’t at each other’s throats either and when you discovered you were both going to the same school, you sought each other’s company more than your friends would’ve thought you would. Still bickering, still ignoring each other, still miscommunicating; yet somehow this worked well for you. There was a deep understanding between the two of you. An unbreakable one. You were the epitome of frenemies. You even went as far as to cheer him on during his swimming competitions. Until that day–

=====

“Y/N?” The voices of your peers broke you out of your daze, the memories from the past itching in the back of your head like an old wound. Blinking rapidly you turned to glance at them, quick to avert your eyes when Namjoon’s concerned face came into view.

Thinking about it he had indeed changed a lot since you were children. He was taller than you, and definitely not as scrawny. Still the same intelligent man, and as hard as you tried you couldn’t refute that, he was always a step ahead of you, and you knew that your aversion to him was partly due to that fact. He was always a step ahead of you and the calmness and ease with which he seemed to do it definitely rubbed you the wrong way.

“Sorry, I must have spaced out.” You apologised, the familiar heat enveloping your cheeks in embarrassment. Refusing to make eye contact with the man sitting right opposite you, you turned towards Mina, the girl you remembered from your freshman competition. Leaning in towards her you whispered, “What were we talking about?”

Mina smiled at you and for a split second you thought you saw something flash in her eyes before she theatrically flipped her hair to the side. “God Y/N, why are you so ditzy? The whole idea of this game is to get to know your classmates. You can’t even be bothered with that?” She finished her sentence with a display of a perfect poster girl smile.

The feel of everyone’s eyes on you made you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. You’ve only once in your life felt as humiliated. Throwing a quick glance at Namjoon and seeing the downturn of his lips you decided that was not a memory you wanted to revisit. You didn’t know whether it was the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you or the clear upset at you that you saw flitting over Namjoon’s face, but the feeling of unease turned into crippling embarrassment. Opening your mouth to respond you choked, finding yourself short of words.

“–Wait, I’m forgetful. Where did you say you were from and what specialty dish was famous there?” The deep tone of Namjoon’s voice broke the silence and it was one of those rare moments when you felt the gratefulness ooze out of you. The question he threw at Mina made everyone’s attention snap towards her. Breathing easily you chanced a glance at the man who saved you. His eyes were solely focused on you, a look of understanding etched into his irises, the deep brown colour reminded you of chocolate ganache, and the spark of warmth that you witnessed in his eyes, hot chocolate on a cold winter’s eve.

The seconds that passed between the two of you felt like eons, and though the thought terrified you, for the first time you never wanted them to end.

======

Unfortunately for you, those seconds were more than enough for the teacher to single you out. You don’t know what you looked like from the outside and you didn’t want to know. What you did know was that before the end of class, after you’ve bravely managed to be in the same group as Namjoon without any serious accidents happening between the two of you, life decided to further test your patience.

“As you all know, this is an elective.” The teacher announced loudly as everyone shuffled back to their seats. “But that doesn’t mean that it can be an easy pass.” You resisted the urge to scoff, the only indication of your disapproval being a roll of eyes. “That being said, it won’t be a nightmare either. Let’s call it a happy medium.” She laughed merrily at her own joke, a few students following suit. Teacher’s pets. Grumbling, you took back your seat.

“It’s not nice to mock a teacher Y/N.” Forgetting how close the row behind you was, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Namjoon bent over to whisper in your ear.

“I’m not mocking anyone Kim. Mind your own business.” You refused to turn around, your pointed whisper carrying across your shoulder to him.

“Like I should have earlier?” He retaliated and you could feel the heat rising in your blood. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the smugness in his tone. Sharply turning around, not calculating how close the two of you may be you would’ve almost bumped noses if not for his quick reflexes.

“I said mind your own business. How dumb of me to think you would just do something out of the goodness of your own heart.” You said as you swallowed thickly. Your faces were still too close for comfort, the position you were both in making it easy for you to see in detail how smooth his skin was, the slight crookedness of his nose and the slight dip where his dimples were. Namjoon was handsome, he will always be in your eyes – that didn’t make him less of an asshole.

“Y/N and Namjoon, you seem to already be getting on well. If you two are a pair for the project you wouldn’t mind would you?” The teacher’s voice sweetly called out to you. You froze on the spot not knowing how to react, your eyes widening at the same time as Namjoon’s smile did. Looking away from you he slightly leant to the side to address her.

“Not at all. I’m an awful cook, but I know Y/N can balance it out.” He sounded too proud of himself. You didn’t know what the project was, but you would find out later. You couldn’t risk being caught not paying attention again.

“Good, well then since Y/N is an amazing baker as we know, you both should be up there in the running. I am so excited to see what you both come up with.” The teacher laughed pleased with herself. Gulping you turned back towards the front of the class, your eyes catching Mina’s for a split second. The chill you felt from the prospect of having been paired with the worst cook in the class felt like a gentle summer breeze compared to the one you felt just then. Chalking it up to the overall anxiety of the day you all but slammed your head onto the hard wooden surface of your table. This year will just be a nightmare.

Your exit from the class was worthy of the drama club, your feet pounding the corridor loudly as you did your best to make your way through the stream of people. Normally you wouldn’t have been bothered by the slow flow of students happily making their way out towards their next class or free period, but right now you were on a mission. You weren’t in a rush to get out of the class, you were in a rush to get away from Namjoon’s stifling presence.

The way he kept glancing at you as you responded to the questions asked by your peers, with such gentle and curious eyes – his whole body was stiff as if he was hanging onto every word he could, trying his best to get to know you.

“Y/N.” Cursing under your breath as a surprisingly warm hand pulled you aside by your forearm you turned around to face the man whose face you would’ve been more than happy to not have to see ever again. “You–“ he started but you held your hand up interrupting him.

“What do you want from me? Can we just pretend we didn’t see each other? That we don’t share any sort of past? I was invisible to you back then, can we make sure to keep it that way now?” You burst out struggling to get a hold of your emotions. Frustrated you tried to pull your arm out of his hold, but when his grip only fractionally tightened on your arm you paused, finally raising your gaze to meet his.

“Is that what you want Y/N? To be invisible to me?” The intensity in his eyes made you reel back, his hold on you being the only reason you were still this close to him.

You did your best to ignore how well he’d filled in from a scrawny swimming obsessed teenager to– your eyes squinted involuntarily, this. His height towered well over you, his broad shoulders and the contracting muscles you could see as you followed the path from where he held you were a clear indication he was still doing some sort of sports or hitting the gym more than your average.

“You didn’t seem to want to be invisible when you confessed in the middle of my swimming competition?” You wanted to believe you would’ve been able to keep your cool had it not been for the tone of his voice. The drawl that signalled mild annoyance and the slight mocking stance he took as he reminded you of the past did a great job of transporting you back to that particular day he was referring to.

You’d been young and dumb, and infatuated with him. Having been neighbours for a decade and even if you weren’t the bestest of friends, you never thought your confession would play out like a flaming car crash scene in a movie. You may have missed the mark when you did indeed yell it out as he stepped down from the podium where he received his gold medal, however, you didn’t particularly think it warranted the mocking laugh and ignorant behaviour. People chalked it up to you being a crazy fangirl, which as hurtful as it was, when you realised you were not going to get more than that from him you accepted it. Have you moved on from it? You wanted to say you have, but the sight of him standing in front of you, towering over you as he mocked you for that day and your strong aversion to seeing him made you realise that no you actually hadn’t.

“What would you know about being invisible? You were a coward.” Namjoon’s mouth fell slightly open at your accusation, the grip he had on you slightly slackening enough for you to pull yourself away from him. “I don’t want to see you as much as you don’t want to see me. So let’s keep this as it is. We’re not children anymore. We need to figure out a way to coexist. Especially if we are in the same class.” You said as demurely as you could crossing your arms over your chest. “So do me a favour and stay as far away as you can from me, Kim Namjoon.” You narrowed your eyes at him not waiting for a reply as you pivoted on your heels, making your way through the slight gathering that had formed around the two of you. Spotting your friends a few feet away from you, you inwardly sighed. You were probably loud enough, and you had a feeling you were in for one heck of a questioning.

=====

When your friends sat down next to you at the table in the library, all eyes and ears, you could feel the interrogation in the air. Trying to make yourself look busy just in case they decided that harassing you with their gazes was not enough, you pulled the nearest textbook you had piled up in front of you.

“Y/N.” Hana tried, her voice sickly sweet. Ignoring it you continued to skim through the book, cursing under your breath when you kept missing the page that caught your eye. It wasn’t as if you even acknowledged the one you had picked up, the words dancing in front of your eyes, unable to be comprehended by your brain. You just hoped that you looked interested enough in it to not be bothered by your friends.

“Y/N.” Hana tried again, her voice dropping some of the sweetness. With prayers that they would leave you alone if you carried on ignoring them, you closed your eyes and counted to ten. After all, wasn’t the saying, if you can’t see it it’s not there, true? You nodded with a noncommittal hum and flipped harder through the pages, not entirely certain whether your aggravation stemmed from the fact that you couldn’t find what you were looking for or from the earlier encounter with the dimpled man.

“Y/N.” Hana sighed, pulling the book away from you just as you found the page you were looking for. With a displeased grunt you made grabby hands at it trying to get your shield back.

Flipping the book closed, Hana showed you the cover, her deadpan expression making you flush in embarrassment. “You do realise this is Jia’s book right?” Indeed, the title read Inorganic Chemistry, a class you knew all too well. But it was definitely not your book.

“But it’s interesting.” Even though you’ve been caught redhanded you tried to defend your scattered brain and actions, if only to buy yourself some time. “Look, we need to get our heads in the game. This year is our last, and I am not ruining this for myself.” You declared as you stood up, the carefully crafted list of books you needed to get out of the library clutched in your hand. “Especially not if I have to also get over Kim’s presence in my face.” You added bitterly, the words slipping from your mouth without a second thought. Freezing in place, you carefully glanced at Hana and Jia, whose satisfied grins told you that is exactly what they’d wanted; You to slip about your connection with the insufferable clumsy giant. Unfortunately for them, that is all you were willing to share, intent on not thinking about him anymore. He occupied precious time and you couldn’t afford that.

“I am going to-” Before you could carry on with your escape plan Hana grabbed your hand and pulled you back roughly.

“Nuh uh. Cat’s out of the bag now. How do you know the hottie?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you making Jia laugh at your disgusted reaction.

“First of all, I don't know him. Second of all he is definitely not a hottie, and third of all, we need to get these books out before someone else beats us to it. And I don't know about you, but I am not willing to wait another month before I can get my hands on them. And I don't have the money to buy them.” Your weak attempt at trying to free yourself from your friend’s clutches went unnoticed and you slumped in your seat resigned. Hana and Jia would do very well within the task force, their interrogation skills beyond professional at this point.

“Look,” You gestured with your free hand. “We were neighbours once upon a time. That is that. Nothing else.” The finality in your voice silenced them, and for the umpteenth time that day you had to force a smile on your face as you felt the heat take over your whole complexion. You definitely despised being put on spot like that, especially on a subject which you refused to dwell on more than you should. However, as much as your friends complied with your request to not touch sensitive subjects, your brain refused to cooperate.

Thinking of Namjoon felt inevitable, and you should have known that. Especially now that he was to be a constant in your life, even if you adamantly refused to, there would always be a small part of you that wandered towards the tall broad man with soft dimples.

“Fuck it.” You cursed under your breath, slamming the books onto the table ready to scan them. The glare you were throwing at the stack of unsuspecting academic material felt warranted, yet they were not the primary source of your misery – not like anyone needed to know that. Counting backwards in your head you closed your eyes for a brief moment only to open them when a flash of the past managed to break past your barrier.

“So, are we going to that frat party later on?” You sighed in relief as Hana’s voice broke past the awkward silence that settled between you. You hadn’t intended to go to the party, but now the prospect of getting drunk and not being aware of anything other than music and dancing seemed like a brilliant idea.

“Oh, sure. I think it would be fun.” You nodded a bit too eager, earning yourself a distrustful look from your friends. “What? I haven’t been to a party in ages and it’s the first one of the year. Our last year, mind you - when else would it be a good time to go?” You defended your choice, your voice going an octave higher than intended.

Not fully convinced, but happy enough that you agreed to something you normally wouldn’t both Hana and Jia nodded, starting to spout out ideas for outfits and what they wished would happen at the party. As it was a last minute decision for you, you didn’t particularly care what you would wear, and anything past having fun with your friends didn’t interest you.

=======

What made you think that a party was a good idea? You never went out for more than a few drinks with your close group of friends. Now you’ve managed to land yourself at a frat party where a few drinks became a few too many. Suddenly the loud music and sweaty people grinding against you felt restrictive. Looking around desperately trying to find a quiet corner in which you could hide you came to the disappointing conclusion that this frat party went a bit overboard. The masses of bodies occupied every corner of the room. In need of fresh air you tried to slither yourself past everyone aching to get out.

The atmosphere became more suffocating, it felt as if the more bodies you pushed to the side the more appeared in front of you. Stopping for a second as you craned your neck trying to spot your friends in case anyone decided to hang around, you felt yourself pushed further into the crowd by the constantly moving bodies. Where at the beginning the pump of the bass served as a way to hype yourself up, now it felt deafening. Continuously searching for an escape either in the form of your friends or an opening in the crowd you locked eyes with the deep chocolate irises that seemed to haunt you. For a split second you felt yourself relax, the tension in your shoulders loosening up and the small breath you took in felt as fresh as if you were in the middle of the forest not in the center of a drunken crowd.

Blinking the feeling immediately disappeared when you remembered who it was that you spotted– and you could barely call Namjoon an acquaintance let alone a friend. You couldn’t count on him to keep you level headed. Even if he seemed to do a very good job at it. Not bothering to acknowledge him you swerved as much as the sandwich of bodies allowed you to carry on with your plan to escape.

The feel of a hand wrapping itself around your wrist made you jump slightly. For one, despite being touched from every vantage point by people pushing past you, you were not ready for direct contact. You were not drunk, but you had enough alcohol in your system for your body to be tense. You were also not sober enough or strong enough to fight off whoever decided to make you their target for the night. So with all that in mind you froze, hoping that the person that grabbed you was either a friend or someone who grabbed you in passing to keep their balance.

“Let’s go.” Even though it made your eardrum tickle from its closeness, the shout over the loud music and the yells of various people barely reached your ears. When it did, you prepared to pull your arm away ready to make it known you were not interested.

“Come on Y/N, the music is changing in a second, now it’s the time to move.” The deep tone of the voice made you stop for a second. Something in your brain shifted. You would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Namjoon?” You could barely be heard over the vibrations shaking the walls but you didn’t need him to respond. Within the next second he took the lead as he pushed past people dragging you with him. He was right, the music stopped for a split second and you felt your eardrums buzz with the quietness that settled over the room. You couldn’t help but stare dumbfoundedly at his back, the broadness of it reminding you of his performance as a swimmer, and you found yourself wondering if he had kept it up. Lost in thought you didn’t realise he’d managed to push his way through until the fresh breeze of the nighttime air hit you.

“Finally.” You heard him mutter, the muted booms from the music inside barely audible as you made your way further from the house. His voice shifted something in you and without warning you pulled your wrist away from him, the buzz in your system making you stumble over your feet.

“Woah- steady!” Namjoon turned around, almost making you topple over.

“If you’d stop being so-“ You paused. In the light coming off the streetlamps you could see the eyebrow he had cocked and sighed. “I– thank you.” You resigned, knowing that no matter how little time you wanted to spend with him and how much you wanted to loathe him, he’s still the one that got you out of there.

Namjoon’s gaze stayed fixed on you for a second, the weight of his stare making you feel less uncomfortable than you’d thought it would. What terrified you was the heat growing underneath your skin – a heat you didn’t think you would experience under his watchful eyes. You felt yourself stand up straighter, the corner of your mouth pulling slightly into a taunting grin – the way you would’ve if you were intentionally flirting with someone. Catching yourself in time, you cleared your throat.

“What- what were you doing in there?” Your gaze flitted around looking anywhere but at him. You feared that if you would settle your eyes on him, the pull you felt would draw you in and you’d have no escape from him.

“It’s a party. Good way to meet people.” He shrugged as if it was the most obvious response and you couldn’t help but snort.

“It’s a frat party. The last thing you do there is get to know people. Unless you count sweaty grinding and checking someone’s tonsils out with your tongue as getting to know someone.” You sounded snarky even to your own ears but he didn’t even flinch, the amused smile making itself a permanent feature on his face.

Neither said a word as you slowly made your way further from the deafening sounds that made the ground under your feet vibrate. You had a sneaky feeling he was walking with you only to get the alcohol out of your systems before you returned back inside. The sight of a bench made you stop. the prospect of sitting down letting your feet rest after having been subjected to the gruesome shoes you were wearing, one that you couldn’t pass up.

“I’m going to sit for a bit.” You announced and he nodded following you. Not expecting him to want to be in your presence for more than necessary you glanced at him, your breath catching in your throat when you discovered his eyes were trained on you.

Less than a few centimetres away, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his. The swirling galaxies in them pulled you in further, compelling you to want to search for each and every single one of them. His eyelashes felt like guardians as they cast a dark shadow across his irises.

“I only thought stars existed in the sky, why are you holding them in your eyes?” You blurted out, your mind hazy from the alcohol, your voice barely above a whisper. Freezing on the spot your eyes widened briefly as you realised what you’d just said.

Namjoon’s breath sputtered, his heartbeat increasing until he felt it beat in his ears. He wanted to say something just as meaningful back yet he found himself unable to utter a word. Frustrated at himself, he decided he was never going to drink again if only to be able to clearly see the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you became embarrassed. He wanted to map your features until he engrained them in his heart so with a resigned exhale he leant further in accepting his wordless self. If he couldn’t say anything he would show you–

“I want sweets.” Your random outburst stopped him dead in his tracks.

The brief moment of awkward silence that settled over you broke when he started laughing. For you it did nothing to ease the tension in between the two of you, his deep rich laugh vibrating through your body reaching all the way to your core making you shift uncomfortably at the way your legs tensed. You could only imagine that voice moaning out your name–

“You haven’t had enough jello shots yet?” He meant to make it sound light hearted, but his hooded eyes told you his mind was on the same track as yours was.

“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.” You said smartly, the amused grin making it clear you were not serious about it.

Touche.” He nodded. “Well-“ getting up from his position with a grunt he offered you a helping hand. “As you said, it’s a frat house. They have a kitchen, hopefully everyone is drunk enough by now to be out of it.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his unconvinced grimace. “We’re bound to get something from there. That is not jello shots or cheap orange juice.”

Laughing you accepted his hand pulling yourself up, counting down from ten in a completely different language hoping you would get yourself under control. His guttural grunt and the strength with which he pulled you up to your feet did very little to calm your aching. The slightest buzz present within your brain, you knew you couldn’t chalk it up to the alcohol. This one was on you and your inability to unsee the way Namjoon’s eyes darkened at the way you bit your lips earlier, or the way his hand lingered for a bit longer onto your wrist, or the way his breathing deepened in tandem with yours as you stood toe to toe.

Without thinking you let yourself go, your arms wrapping around his neck pulling him down towards you. The clash of his warm wet lips against yours felt like molten chocolate cake left you craving for more. Moaning into your mouth it seemed like he did too, as he wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you in closer to him. You couldn’t help but let yourself be guided, your lips opening allowing him to explore. You felt on fire, your skin prickling with electricity wherever his hands would start exploring, his palms wide against your back fingers digging deep into your skin as your fingers grasped at his shoulders, neck, and finally burying themselves into his smooth hair.

Feeling satisfied with your response, Namjoon pulled away from your lips, your breaths intermingling, the inevitable wetness left glistening in the artificial light from the garden lamps. He didn’t waste any time and you barely had the chance to groan out his name before he changed tactics, his mouth attaching itself to your jaw, trailing wet kisses down the length of your neck finally reaching your sensitive spot. Trembling you pulled at the hairs in between your fingers, the heat rising in your blood until you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. You wanted to take everything off, to feel him against you, in you.

No sooner than that thought made its way into your head, he bit onto the sensitive flesh causing you to gasp when the distant sound of his name being called pulled you out of your trance.

“Namjoon.” You tried to sound level headed, your fingers digging into the muscles he developed from swimming. You tried not to think of how he would look like without the inconvenience of his top, otherwise you would not step away and would let him fuck you in the open in the middle of someone else’s garden.

As much as he wanted to carry on tasting you, reveling in the knowledge that your knees were shaking because of him, he pulled himself away from you with a final lick of his lips – that was enough to make you want to reconsider your decision, he did it so deliciously as if you were the best meal he’s ever had. And you probably would have suggested you go somewhere else for more privacy if once again his friends hadn’t called his name.

“They are looking for you.” You whispered, still unsure whether letting him go was the best or worst decision you’ve ever made. A part of you wanted this, you have been crushing on him for so long, the other part of you regretted even letting it go this far, and you refused to blame it on the alcohol. Its effects had worn off for a while.

“I– I better walk you back to your dorm.” His voice sounded strained and you smiled lightly at him as you shook your head. He looked beautiful in the light, his skin glowing, the gentle look in his eyes making him seem almost angelic.

“It’s ok, you need to get back. I can make it on my own, it’s not that far.” You argued pointing your finger in the direction of your dorm. Truthfully, it wasn’t a long walk and you could see the lights from people’s bedrooms from where you were standing. “But thank you.” You turned around, telling yourself not to look back as much as you craved it. Before you reached the end of the driveway, you felt the pull in your stomach, your heart clenching and against all better judgement you glanced back over your shoulder. Seeing the garden empty behind you, you felt your smile drop and you shook your head knowing it was better this way.

Namjoon stared after you from a distance, his vantage point allowing him to observe you for a while longer without you noticing. Watching as you turned around your eyes searching he almost gave himself away his want to walk you home, make sure you were safe but his friends’ insistent shouts and your hurry made the decision for him. He sighed wondering if it was better this way.

======

Entering the suffocating atmosphere of the swimming pool did very little to calm your nerves. You already felt something akin to a hand wrapping itself around your neck, the nervousness of having to address a situation you didn’t know what to make of was too much for you. But you knew that for the sake and sanity of your project and your grade you needed to get this over and done with. You couldn’t work with him with a dead goose hanging over your heads.

It took all the courage that you had to approach one of his friends to inquire where he would be at this time of the day. It didn’t surprise you when they smiled knowingly at you, just motioning to the humongous building where you knew the gym to be. What came as more of a surprise was not the fact that he’s kept up the swimming, but the fact that he was there on a scholarship solely because of it. You remembered he was good but you hadn’t expected him to take it beyond high school.

Lost in thought you passed by the lockers, the smell of the chlorine getting stronger and stronger and you scrunched up your nose. If the building was a huge maze, the pool would have been the first place you found. It occupied the whole of the lower ground level, its sheer olympic size needing the space for not only one basin, but three. Wandering around aimlessly, the thought of having to find Namjoon having completely slipped your mind. Too preoccupied with the sheer size of the space you didn’t even notice the entry to the pool until you almost walked into a half naked unsuspecting body.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You apologised raising your eyes to meet the amused ones belonging to Jungkook. Trying your hardest to noy ogle at his naked upper body you focused on his shoulder. “Oh, you’ve got a tattoo.” You slapped a hand over your mouth cursing yourself for your lack of filter until Jungkook’s laugh echoed loudly in your ears.

“I do, and I’m planning to get more.” He shrugged unbothered.

“Really? I’ve been debating on getting one but was always unsure. Didn’t it hurt?” Your eyes widened in excitement wanting to hear more about his experience with getting a tattoo.

Smiling at your enthusiasm he showed you each one individually. “These didn’t hurt, this one –“ he motioned to the inside of his forearm, “hurt a lot.” At your wonderous expression he hurried to expand. “It wasn’t too bad, just–“

“Jungkook, it’s your turn to do lengths.” So caught up in your conversation the reason you found yourself inhaling chlorine in a warm damp gym had completely slipped your mind. Same reason that now clung onto the side of the pool closest to you, his goggles lying on the tiles and hair mussed from his swimming cap. “Y/N?”

Finally noticing you he furrowed his brows. “What are you doing here?”

Without giving you a chance to reply he grabbed onto the ledge and pulled himself up, almost putting you at risk of a heart attack. Swimming did wonders for his body and you could easily tell as he unashamedly displayed his naked torso, water dripping down his body in rivulets. Yelping, you jumped to the side to avoid getting splashed and to put enough distance between the two of you so you could breathe easily.

“Well see you, don’t stare too much.” Laughing at your reaction Jungkook winked at you before he heeded Namjoon’s warning and rushed to get himself back in the pool.

Staring after the younger man you gulped realising you were alone with the person you’ve almost slept with the night before. A shirtless wet vision of Namjoon flashed before your eyes until you remembered it was not your imagination. Namjoon was standing right in front of you awaiting your reply. Deciding it was now or never you, took a deep breath in words tumbling out of your mouth.

“Namjoon, about last night…being drunk–“ You stuttered. You found it incredibly hard to concentrate on the words you wanted to express as you took in the sight of his glistening bare chest, droplets of water running down towards his happy trail. “Actually, nevermind.” Deciding there is no way you could mutter anything intelligent as he busied himself with wiping himself dry you prepared to backtrack. In hindsight you didn’t know what possessed you to come to the pool to talk to him. None of your previous pool interactions seemed to end up well.

“Doesn’t matter.” He coughed lightly running his hand through his wet hair to get it off his face. “Drunk or not, doesn’t matter to me.” Shrugging his shoulders dismissively he dropped the towel onto the floor.

Staring at him, mouth wide open in stupor you could barely utter a word. You didn’t know which hurt most – his words or the fact that your heart dropped to your stomach in response to hearing them.

“Truth is –“ His voice softened but before he could continue you felt yourself burst in anger, the hurt long washed by your need to express the pain that’s been festering in your heart for years. Pain you thought went away until this year.

“Always knew you were an asshole, but that is a new level.” You grit between your teeth instantly recoiling from him. As unfair as you knew you were being by holding this grudge, you were hurt and you wanted him to know it. Reading the alarm in his eyes as a need to defend himself and his words, you decided you were too tired to listen anymore. “It doesn’t matter so please stop mentioning it. We’re going to pretend it didn’t happen.” Hoping you sounded less hurt than you felt you mimicked his shrug arms wrapping around your middle as if that would help protect your already damaged ego. “–And maybe it’s better this way.” You sighed. “I should stay as far away from you as I can.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let me put it another way, you’re a dick. And I can’t believe I even considered the thought of liking you.” You pointed at him accusingly, completely ignoring his crestfallen face. Aware that you wouldn’t be able to hold in your tears if you stayed any longer you turned on your heels rushing out knowing that the suffocating feeling in your throat was not just from chlorine.

======

The weeks that followed up to your project and midterm evaluation felt gruesome. Neither you nor Namjoon spoke for more than a few seconds, the tension between the two of you as tight as a rope during tug-o-war. The effort you put in trying to keep your emotions at bay along with your other commitments drained you so much that your life outside of your dorm, library and kitchen became nonexistent. As soon as your head hit the pillow, at whatever hour you decided it was enough for the day, you would be out as a light.

Unhelpful as ever, life also decided to throw you a curveball in the form of your project being more complicated than it needed. In the words of your teacher, “you were capable of withstanding the complexities of an en croute dish.” As capable as you felt in dealing with the food, you didn’t think you were equipped in the patience department. Especially not when your partner’s opinions and skills left much to be desired.

“Duck!” You jolted out of your seat when the slime landed smack onto your cheek. The repulsive feeling made you recoil from the table desperate to grab some napkins.

“Namjoon, what the fuck?” Finally locating the sink you rushed to wash off, completely flabbergasted at the green paste that fell off your face with a wet plop. Side eyeing him you narrowed your eyes at him. “What is this?” You demanded pointing at what could only be described as a forest snail. Shuddering you turned off the water side stepping past the sheepish man handing you a towel.

“It’s duck.” You threw another glance at the being in the sink trying to determine which part of it was duck. It felt silly as nothing, shape nor colour, made it seem like it was duck. “…and spinach.”

The game of ‘spot the object’ carried on for a few seconds, at least until you determined that he’s managed to congeal the bird and spinach together so nicely that it became a consistency akin to slime. “I thought by yellin duck you meant me to duck duck.” You grumbled absentmindedly rubbing at your temples in frustration.

“I did mean for you to duck the duck. But it’s also duck.” Namjoon replied seriously, his hands on his hips. Locking eyes with him, the spark of amusement dancing in it made the dam burst as you keeled over in laughter.

Looking at him for a second, the ridiculous way the bright yellow apron contrasted with his bright orange jumper – a jumper that regardless of how large it was, did very little to hide his broadness. Not after you’ve seen it twice. Swallowing your laughter, your eyes followed the trail up to his lips, the memory of them on yours and on other parts of your body causing your breathing hitch in your throat.

“Right- back to-“ You went to talk at the same time as Namjoon took a step towards you, the towel he had in his hand outstretched. Before he could reach you, the one small puddle of water existent on the floor seemed to happen onto his path as he stumbled into you. His weight compared to yours managed to push you back into the counter, a small yelp escaping your throat at the small burst of pain from your spine hitting the hard surface.

“Shit, are you ok? I’m sorry.” Namjoon fretted, his voice sounding as if he was going through a slight panic attack.

“Get off of me.” Your hands that got trapped between your bodies tried to push in vain at him. During this disastrous exchange it took very little for you to realise two things, your heart jumping out of your chest as if chased by a hound was not loud on its own. With his chest so close to you, and your palms over his heart, you could feel the strong rhythmic pounding against it. This knowledge did little to quench your misplaced feelings for him. The second revelation came in the form of a missing recipe.

“We don’t have a recipe.” You stated, your voice sounding strained.

As Namjoon parted away from you, you did your best to ignore the mumble of protest coming from him. “That is the first thing you think about?”

“We’ve been following a generic recipe. But it won’t work.” You spoke louder, trying to get your bearings together. “We need something more–“ Sucking in a deep breath you let it out loudly. “Special.”

If the discombobulated way Namjoon looked at that moment didn’t give away his inability to follow your trail of thought, his shrug did. Shaking your head at him, you pointed towards the chairs gathered around the counter.

“Sit down. We have a lot to work on.”

======

You hadn’t spoken to your friends much, the time you spent trying to perfect your recipe ranking higher in your list of priorities. Normally you wouldn’t have cared as much, but you had something to prove, to yourself, your teacher, your peers and your insufferable partner.

It was easy to tell your friends were worried about you. Hana had tried on more than one occasion to check up on you, her attempt at getting you to wind down, coming under the guise of her gushing about Jungkook and what his group of misfits has been up to. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of gossip between you, however the group of misfits normally involved a certain Kim and you were seeing his face enough in your own time to not be reminded of his existence.

Jia didn’t even bother trying to get you to talk, her worry coming from her mother-like attitude which prompted her to leave you cooked meals and text you to drink water. You chuckled at the thought of your poor eating habits, you were in the kitchen twice a week trying to come up with the perfect soufflé and en croute recipe, yet you were barely concerned about what went in your mouth.

The singular interaction with humans you happened to have was with your teachers, and your cooking class partner – which you doubted was human sometimes. The nickname God of Destruction seemed to fit him well, you’ve tried in vain to get him to a decent level of cooking, and you were more than surprised that his inability to cook was not coming from his incapabilities, but from his clumsiness. More than once if he followed a recipe and knew what he was meant to do he surprised you with a dish you deemed more than acceptable. But when his bad luck would come in and he would cut the vegetables in the wrong way or forget what the steps were – the slimy green duck was not the worst thing that was made by his hands. You tried your hardest to be patient as you knew your grade depended on him, if not fully then partially.

However, his clumsiness and your inability to keep your feelings at bay around him were the last straw.

=======

“Namjoon, no!” You watched in slow motion how he picked up the container of salt and dumped it in your batter. The batter you spent hours perfecting, the batter that only needed a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar. The sugar which you specifically placed next to him, even pointed at it telling him to add it in after he’s finished mixing the contents in the bowl. Yet, he still reached for the salt placed far away at the other end of the counter. You didn’t know whether it was because he really hated you or if he was that bad at cooking. All you knew was that the hours you spent creating this recipe have all been for nothing.

Your incredulous look at the now ruined batter, created a comical resemblance to a fish and Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like Nemo.” He pointed at you snickering under his breath. His commentary did nothing to amuse you, instead the rage that was slowly bubbling up inside threatened to explode as you fixed your glare onto him.

“Do not even go there! How can you be so-” Arms raised in frustration you were seconds away from pulling out your own hair. “Ugh!” Before you could say something else, and before the spatula you were carrying in your hand could become a handy weapon, you stalked angrily toward the bowl on the counter and picked it up.

“Ok Y/N, calm down, it’s just a batch! It’s fixable!” He raised his hands in front of himself in an attempt to protect himself from your wrath and maybe even pacify you. “You don’t need to get your panties in a twist.” He scoffed you and you prayed to all the cooking Gods that were out there that he stopped talking before you attacked him with the bread mixer.

“I am not getting my panties in any twist Namjoon! You had one job to do!” Pointing your finger at him, you approached him menacingly, your nostrils flaring. “I specifically pointed at the sugar!”

If Namjoon were to admit, he should’ve recognised the tell-tale signs of an argument brewing in between the two of you. However, the need to retaliate and protect what little was left of his pride and cooking skills made him act. “How is it my fault, they look the same! And if you weren’t so anal about these things, you wouldn’t have decided to put them both in the same type of bowl!” Despite his exasperation he didn’t raise his voice, the neutral tone with which he responded to you putting fuel on the fire. Ready to strike back with another comment at how his lack of skills matched his lack of perception you made your way towards him, the spatula still firmly gripped in your hand as you waved it around like a sword.

“This is not Master Chef Y/N, you’re not the best cook out there nor do we need to make this a cooking show! It’s just a stupid class we need to pass!” The hurt that flashed in your eyes at his statement made him pause and his heart clenched, the verbal diarrhoea he was about to unleash completely stuck in his throat.

Namjoon realised he needed to put an end to this before things got out of hand and what was said in between the two of you left your relationship irreparable. What he didn’t realise was that his spatial awareness was as bad as his cooking skills. For the second time in the span of ten minutes you watched horrified as your efforts were egged with a swipe of the giant man’s hand. Pun intended.

Namjoon knew he’d fucked up the moment his elbow hit the container of eggs. He had a split of a second to determine whether or not he was going to run and hide or face the consequences of his actions. His fate already decided when his feet refused to move, he closed his eyes as your voice pierced through his eardrums. Despite the commotion, there was no big explosion nor was there a significant sound other than the splatter of the eggs. He wasn’t sure if you’d carried on shouting or if the sound of your voice reverberating through his skull was a result of the silence that settled over the both of you, but it only made him more anxious to open his eyes. When a few seconds had passed and he hadn’t been attacked with a spatula he decided it was safe to open his eyes.

“Y/N?” His voice sounded unsure, your hunched up form was a sight he was not expecting to see. “Are- are you ok?” He approached you cautiously, in case you decided to strike with the kitchen utensils at him. The closer he got to you, the clearer it was to him that your quivering form wasn’t a sign of anger. Instead your soft whimpers triggered his instincts immediately. Recognition dawned on his face and his face scrunched up in remorse. What had he done?

“Y/N, I’m sorry I-” He crouched down next to you, his hand hesitatingly reaching out for yours. He did sound apologetic, his face dropping at the sight of your red and blotchy one. In that moment you didn’t care how bad he felt, or how the butterflies you’ve harboured in our stomach reacted to him. You hated him.

“You’ve managed to single-handedly ruin not only my efforts and the hours I’ve spent trying to come up with this recipe.” If looks could kill, Namjoon was certain he would be buried under 6 feet of dough by now. “But you’ve also destroyed any chance we may have had at passing this class!” You could feel the frustration and anger bubbling deep in you and before you could stop the words, they tumbled out of your mouth so effortlessly it scared you.

“I hate you Kim Namjoon!”

=======

For the next few days you refused to set foot on campus - not even to go to classes, let alone go to the library or the cafe where you had spent endless hours pouring over your recipe with Namjoon in tow. You knew that if you dared to even be within a mile radius of the place you loathed more than anything odds would not be in your favour and you would definitely come into contact with the one person you didn’t want to see. That day after declaring your hatred towards the man who had been nothing but a thorn in your side, you stormed out of the cooking lab a cloud of flour left in your wake as the door slammed shut behind you. The whole way back towards your room you huffed and puffed, completely oblivious to anything happening around you.

Somewhere along the way you think you may have dismissed a group of freshers who approached you for tutoring, you may have even blanked your friends earlier as they tried to get you to go with them to their society activities. You could barely remember the stretch of grass that you would normally bask in as it was the most beautiful part of the campus. All you could see was red and the conflicting emotions raging up a storm inside of you. Thoughts crashing and colliding made your skull feel as if it was about to explode.

Once you reached the safety of your room, with a courteous slam of your door, mentally apologising to your floor mates, you beelined straight for comfort. The softness of your pillow and the embrace of your duvet were enough to lessen the anger you felt. However, when your soul got stripped of the one pillar holding it up, you found yourself coming undone. Your whole foundation crashing to the ground, you buried yourself into your comforter and you wept.

You wept for your wasted time, you wept for your grades and most importantly you wept for the hope that sparked in your heart at the time you and Namjoon shook hands when you were assigned this project. Feeling nothing less than dumb you berated yourself for hoping that something may have changed. As your whole body trembled with hiccups and your phone kept vibrating almost kicking itself off the table you realised that maybe something has changed. But knowing that it could never be hurt even more. And so that night you cried yourself into a restless sleep filled with pastries and dimpled smiles.

========

You refused to think of anything that had to do with that moment or the way your whole being screamed at you to go back. Most importantly, you adamantly prohibited yourself from remembering the last few moments before you slammed the door and your goodwill behind you. Because you knew that if you thought about that moment and the way Namjoon’s dejected face pulled at your heartstrings, you would crack once more.

Your voluntary self-isolation continued. The even greater act of rebellion against your own thoughts was your refusal to be on campus, even going to lengths of telling your friends to meet you outside, in the park or the cafe. Your excuse, the weather was still too nice to be cooped up inside a dusty library. When Hana would present you with the option of studying on the patch of grass in the field by your dorms, you completely ignored her. Your excuse, the campus was boring now that you were in your final year. You needed to expand your wings, make the most out of the city that you barely got to see as you had very little free time to spend outside of campus. And when you did have time, you’d be on your way to visit family and friends.

It seemed like you had managed to craft all the perfect excuses. And you had to congratulate your friends for not questioning you further than that. For a few days your avoidance tactics worked. But what would you do when a situation made it so that you couldn’t play that game any longer? That was something you hadn’t thought about, and it was probably going to bite you in the ass later on.

“Hey, Y/N, how was your cramming session?” Jia sat herself right beside you, her body shivering from the cold autumnal breeze. You weren’t fairing better than she was, your light jacket doing very little to protect you against the weather’s attacks. It was the sheer stubbornness that kept you rooted to your spot on the bench.

“Could have gone better, I suppose.” You shrugged, knowing that you fluked it badly. Your brain has been too preoccupied with thoughts of your project to be able to multitask. You tried in vain to make it submit and start concentrating on the subject you had a midterm in, only for it to rebel and start replaying a specific kitchen scene like a broken record. In the end, you gave up, and allowed it to wander on that dangerous path hoping it would get to the same result that you have. Kim Namjoon was an ass, and has always been one.

Unfortunately for you, like the rebel you’ve trained it to be, the only conclusion that it managed to come to was a far cry from that. Kim Namjoon was considerate, and a good friend. Just not to you. And by allowing these thoughts to take root and fester inside your brain, you managed to not only give yourself a headache, but also scrape at the walls you’ve put in place. Sooner or later you knew you would crack. You just hoped you graduated before that could happen.

“Hey, where’s Hana?” You questioned, noticing that the third important person was missing. Normally her and Jia would be stuck together, as they had the majority of classes together. Yet, here you were, one friend down and close to hypothermia.

Still looking around for your friend, as if she was going to pop out from under a rock, you missed the way Jia’s face contorted in a wince. “Uh- she may have… spent a study session with the Lit group.” Jia blurted out, hoping that if she got the information out quickly you wouldn’t lash out.

“Okay?” You looked at her, your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why do you look like you haven’t gone to the loo in hours though?” You leant in observing the way her cheeks reddened and her awkward stance became tense.

“Because well, since they were so nice…” she stuttered, “we thought we should invite them to study with us.” She sighed, eyes closed waiting for an explosion from you.

Still very much confused at your friend’s odd behaviour you let out a loud laugh, not understanding what she meant. Why would having a bigger group of people bother you? Unless…

Wait.

Your eyes widened, and your whole body tensed. “You mean–“ You couldn’t finish your thought, you didn’t want to finish your thought. Once again, it seemed like fate had it out for you, because no sooner than your brain got to process the situation your friends have placed you in, that you heard a very distinct deep voice greet you.

“Ayo, Y/N! Long time no see.” Taehyung plopped himself right next to you, his wide toothy grin signalling his pleasure at seeing you. To your chagrin, a chorus of hellos followed, and you felt yourself nailed to the bench until a voice that seemed to haunt your thoughts indefinitely, spoke from behind you.

“Taehyung, you’re taking up the whole bench.” The sigh that followed was the switch that you needed to make you move. With a slam of your hands onto the hard wooden table you started packing your bag, hands trembling, praying that no one could read the desperate look in your eyes.

“Y/N?” There was a twinge of hesitance in his voice and you had to stop yourself from flinching. You could feel his presence behind you, as if he was a furnace burning and you got too close to the flame. His gaze on you burnt holes into the back of your head and you couldn’t help but gulp, the thought of facing the one person who has plagued your thoughts terrifying.

“Namjoon! Here, sit down.” Hana who appeared out of nowhere and sat herself nestled into you slid further down the bench, landing next to Jungkook. Watching her make space for the person you declared loudly you hated earlier, you did your best impression of a grinch glare at her. It could have been the rays of the late autumn sun in your eyes, but you swore you saw her blush and small glance downwards when Jungkook greeted her. Now highly suspicious of the reason she chose to spend so much time with the ditzy handsome group of Lit boys, you shut your mouth and sat yourself back down. Hana was your friend and if she needed you to be there for her whilst she flirted with the pretty fresher, then who were you to ruin her chances?

“Partner.” Namjoon acknowledged you with a small smile as he turned towards you. Giving him a glare you scoffed.

“Partner my foot. We’re barely marked together.” You countered, ready to spring up and leave. Hana’s laughter at something Jungkook had said followed by the rambunctious laughter of the rest of the group reminded you why you were still there. Resigned you felt your shoulders slump.

“In fact, it’s only 33% of the whole grade.” You carried on, happy that your mathematical knowledge came in handy. “So don’t get your hopes up Kim. But then again it’s not Master Chef so it shouldn’t matter that much.” Quoting back the words at him didn’t give you the sense of peace that you’d hoped it would. Not when you noticed the slight fall at the corner of his mouth or when the furrow of his brows made you mirror him subconsciously. Feeling the need to say something else only to soften the harshness of your words from earlier you opened your mouth, only to be interrupted.

“Hey Joon.” A distinct feminine voice called out from across the yard, and you felt the man next to you tense as his body swiveled round towards the source of the noise. Feeling like you're intruding you tell yourself to not look behind you. But one look at the table and everyone’s heads turned towards the person who willingly put themselves into the limelight, and you decided that if curiosity killed the cat, you had eight other people lined up in front of you.

Following everyone’s gaze, you found yourself staring at Mina, the second year student who happened to be in your cooking class. You had rarely interacted with her since the group game, and you’d barely seen Namjoon interact with her. Not that you kept track of that. You’ve encountered her around some of your gatherings with your societies, which told you that you may have had more in common than you thought. Smiling at her, you waited along with everyone else to see what she would have to say to Namjoon.

“Thank you for that night - at the party.” She cheerfully called out to him, winking, but not before her eyes met with your with a triumphant sneer. “Y/N it’s a shame you left the party so early, you missed a great finale. What could be better than Kim Namjoon walking you home.” Leaving the group dumbstruck she left in a flurry of pastels not waiting for a reply.

You felt frozen, the memory of what had happened at the party revisiting you like an unpleasant family member that you always tried to avoid. You could feel the dreadful sting of your waterline as your tears started to gather at the instructions of your clenching heart. Not daring to look at anyone, least of all Namjoon, whose body became as cold as ice – or maybe that was just the feeling that settled between the two of you, your fingers twitched. The rough material of your bag underneath your hand reminded you there was a way out, and without a second thought, you took it.

Namjoon could only blink at you as you grabbed your bag in a flurry ready to pack up. Your friends calling out your name woke him up from his daze, his hand shooting out as he placed it over yours stopping you from carrying out your plan. He didn’t have a plan, and as you ceased any movement, your cold eyes meeting his, he couldn’t help but freeze. The split second he took trying to find the words that his mind had no problem conjuring, but his mouth couldn’t utter, was a split second too long for you.

“Y/N-” he cursed at himself inwardly for being such a coward. He wanted to ask you to stay but the grimace you pulled as you glanced between where his hand was covering yours and his defeated gaze stilled the words in his throat.

“Don’t, just don’t.” You spat out with a glare, this time having had enough of his big head. Namjoon stared at you, unsure where this animosity came from. You were not about to start a scene in the middle of an open area, but you would not force yourself to sit back down and pretend that every second spent next to him didn’t hurt. Your adamant refusal to not only acknowledge what may have happened at the party but also suspect a scenario that may have happened between him and someone else, urged you to move. Hurriedly packing your bag and refusing to acknowledge any of your friend’s pleas for you to stay, you rushed off back to your dorm. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek, and with that tear, you promised yourself this would be the last time you cried for Kim Namjoon.

==========

Panic. Panic with a capital p was an understatement of what you were feeling at the moment. This was it. It wasn’t the big day, but it was the first evaluation in class. This could potentially make or break your grade depending on what the teacher deemed your dish was. Unfortunately for you, the remnant scars of the encounter earlier not only left you with a bitter taste in your mouth as if you’ve chewed on too many lemon peels, it also left you without a recipe to fall back onto.

The memory of the changes you’d made to your recipe were barely there. Having poured over it for a whole night straight, deemed it a hazy image of the scribbled page. Funnily enough, as if life was mocking you, you remembered more the sight of it soaked in eggs rather than having written it. Was it herbs that you put in the batter? Or in the pate? Both? Uncertain you entered the class, your feet feeling like lead. Every fiber of your being was telling you to run the opposite way.

Not daring to look up at anyone, your mind still trying to remember the recipe you’ve slaved over for days you didn’t notice the student that cut you off until it was too late.

“Oh, I’m-” Prepared to apologise you found your words stuck in your throat as your eyes fell upon the cream coloured sweater that seemed to swallow Namjoon’s form. Mouth wide open you cursed yourself for the way your heart sped up at the sight of him. “Can you please,” clearing your throat you motioned for him to step aside. When he didn’t move or bat an eyelid you furrowed your brows at him ready to give him a piece of your mind. You weren’t about to play more games with him, and you weren’t rested enough to hold yourself back for appearance’s sake.

“Namjoon-” You warned. His silent treatment and refusal to get out of the way only served to irk you more until he reached out his hand to you, a crumpled piece of paper set in between his fingers. You looked confusedly between him and the paper unsure of what he was trying to tell you. “What is this, I swear if this is another one of your schemes to piss me off...”

“Just take it.” He sighed, his voice sounded hoarse and tired and upon closer inspection you realised that not only were his eyes sunken in but his whole demeanour seemed worn out. As if he spent too much time bent over his desk drinking too much coffee and having little rest. Hesitantly you took the paper away from him quick to unravel it.

Your eyes widened when you read back to yourself the recipe that you had come up with, intact as if it hadn’t even been touched by remnants of food or other liquids. The only difference being that everything was written neatly instead of your

“What is this?” Reading the crumpled piece of paper over and over again, you looked up at him. “How is that possible though?” You didn’t need for him to answer to put two and two together; his tired expression and the piece of paper in your hands said it all. “Did you stay up all night getting this rewritten?”

The sharp inhale and the slight reddened cheeks confirmed it even before he could respond. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a hesitant smile before answering. “I did, I messed up so I thought I should do something to help instead of constantly messing things up.” In those few seconds of him admitting to his mistake, carelessness, the slight glow of his embarrassment – he’d never been more beautiful to you.

“Namjoon.” You sighed not knowing what to say, but before you could fully form a response he placed a hand onto your forearm.

“It’s ok, I’ll be over there.” Motioning to the furthest station on the other side of the room he chuckled. “I’d rather not risk ruining something else.”

Mouth wide open you stared after him as he slowly walked away from you. In a sudden rush of adrenaline you called out his name making him turn around in surprise “Thank you.” You smiled at him hoping that maybe little by little the wrongs of your relationship would be mended.

Not waiting for his response you took a deep breath in glancing around at everyone seated at the stations. Your emotions may have been lighter than when you entered the room, but you still had an assignment to finish. Time to get this over and done with.

========

You turned around sighing to yourself wondering if this day could just end quicker. You were already at war with yourself having had to refrain from approaching the tall man sitting on the opposite end of the room. The man whose piece of paper sat neatly onto your station top along with the ingredients that you would need for your recipe. However, no matter how desperately you tried to make sense of what had just happened, you couldn’t concentrate on anything but his expression as he admitted he had spent the whole night fixing what he had made a mess of.

When the teacher called the start of the assessment you forced yourself to concentrate on your own dish but you found yourself every so often glancing towards Namjoon making sure he was alright. The first time you locked eyes with him

You turned your head just in time for you to witness the way Mina approached your table, the container of salt in her hands. Confused at her actions, you prepared to head over to let her know you didn’t need more salt as you’d just added it. The scene that unfolded in front of your eyes seemed so unreal you found it hard to believe. Before you could even take a step closer towards your station, Mina’s hurried flick of the wrist over your food, the salt container open in her hands, had already done the damage.

The shout of surprise that escaped your throat got drowned by the students milling around rushing to get the ingredients for their final touches but as you glanced around desperately trying to make sense of what happened you locked eyes with Namjoon. His wide eyes told you he’s also witnessed Mina’s transgression.

Still flabbergasted about what had happened you took a staggered step towards your station. Eyes wide you approached your dish, thoughts swirling through your head, going through every possible way to fix the situation. The time was ticking and you knew you had no chance of actually getting it fixed or redone. You glanced at the clock, your heart clenched and the sting of tears making you sniffle being the only indication of the gripping tendrils of anxiety that washed over you.

“Y/N.” Ignoring the oddly familiar deep voice you whimpered, shoulders slumped ready to curl into yourself in hopes that you disappeared.

Without a thought Namjoon ignored your desperate whimper and grabbed the plate away from you. In your haste to salvage what was left of it you hadn’t realised that he had approached you, his tall frame towering over yours.

“Y/N.” He tried to get your attention, but your desperate mutters prevented you from hearing him. Namjoon stood silently behind you, waiting for the opportune moment to get you away from the disaster your dish has become. He could easily see your devastated face, his body stiffening at your distress. When you finally stepped to the side, your hand too short to reach across the counter for the herbs, he saw the opportunity – hand outstretched he immediately picked up your bowl.

“What-” You were not quick enough for your brain to understand the implications of Namjoon taking your plate and switching it with his before the teacher called time out. Desperately staring at his back as he made his way towards his station, your ruined dish held firmly in his hands your thoughts in disarray. You wanted to reach out and stop him but you weren’t fast enough before the teacher called time.

Watching helplessly as she made her rounds taking in and tasting everyone’s dish, her appraisal of your own was a distant memory. You felt dipped under water, your reflexes slow to process what was happening around you.

“You’ve done a good job Y/N, not your best dish, but I can see the thought and work you’ve put in it. The herbs added made it so much better than your usual.” The praise barely reached your ears as your brain kept trying to think of a way to tell her that whereas it was your recipe, it was not your dish. It was Namjoon’s.

“It’s not my dish.” You blurted out just as she was about to turn away from you. Surprised she looked back at you only to nod appreciatively despite your efforts to get your point across.

“Yes, you are right, it’s yours and Namjoon’s, and you’ve done an amazing job. But you cooked them individually, and that is what you get a third of your mark for. So you should own up to what you have managed to cook.” She smiled at you before moving away towards the other end of the room.

“No it’s-” You tried once more, only for your voice to crack. Panicked, you watched as she made her way towards Namjoon, cursing yourself for letting him walk away from you. Your eyes widened when he caught your gaze for a split second before he nodded reassuringly as if to let you know that it would all work out.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged between them, his station the furthest away from you. His sombre demeanour gave nothing away, his back straight, gaze focused on the counter before him as he silently took the feedback from the teacher in stride. Your heart squeezed with hurt as you witnessed the discrepancy between the teacher’s reaction and his. He looked like a scolded child and you knew that if he were to look up you’d only see understanding. The knowledge that the dish he was getting marked for was yours and the gravity of what he’d done in order to spare you from getting marked down paralysed you. Wondering if he had failed his mark, you were determined to get a hold of him before he could leave the class - if only to confront him about his reasoning behind his actions.

As the noise in the corridor increased and you were told you would be emailed your grades before the end of day, you debated whether or not you should stay behind and talk to the teacher or rush after Namjoon. Your decision was made as you saw him quickly rush past you, his eyes focused on the ground mumbling his apologies as he bumped into people on his way out. Rushing to pack your bag you ran after him. Before you could even approach him, your pathway got cut off by everyone trying to exit the class, relieved that this assessment was over. Desperate to get his attention you called out to him.

“Namjoon!” Standing on your tiptoes trying to catch his eye, you let yourself be carried away through the doorway into the corridor. Easily spotting his backpack a few feet away from you, you tried to hurry after him, your legs not as fast as his, your calls to him getting drowned in the noise reverberating through the corridor.

“Y/N!” Hana’s voice reached you before her form cut you off and you whimpered as Namjoon’s form took a right turn disappearing from your view.

=======

You could have left it, you definitely could have not stormed out in the middle of the night out of your dorm to sneak into his. You could have talked to him like a normal person the next day during lunch. Shaking from the cold air you pulled your top closer, wrapping your arms around your midriff in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

Realising what you were about to do, the sight of the boy’s dormitory made you gulp. Never having been inside, you had no clue where you were meant to go. The building didn’t seem much different than yours, in fact it seemed like the exact same replica of your own dormitory. Cheering internally at your own luck you knew that each floor consisted of a number of rooms with a communal kitchen and bathroom. Thanking Hana for having a loose tongue and Jungkook for being smitten with her, you knew at least the floor number where Namjoon’s room would be situated.

You rapidly made your way past a rowdy group of students seemingly heading out to a party. As it worked in your favour you were not in the least concerned about the lack of security for the evening. Unsurprisingly, no one questioned you sneaking in – not even the discombobulated student you brushed past to get into the lift. Apologising profusely you rushed to press the button for the seventh floor taking the time to catch your breath as the doors closed and the lift made its way up. Running through different scenarios in your head, wondering if your talk with Namjoon would go as horribly as it always seemed to happen, you watched as the numbers slowly changed from one floor to the other.

When number seven rolled around and the lift slowed down you took a deep breath in as you exited. Not bothering to check if the coast was clear you rushed down the corridor prepared to hide until you figured out a way to determine which one was the correct one.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Namjoon’s voice rang loudly in the corridor and you immediately rushed to shush him before realising how ridiculous that was. You were the intruder, barging into his dorm yet he was the one getting told off for yelling out into the corridor.

You stood with your feet firmly planted onto the carpeted floor, eyes wide and thoughts running a million miles per hour. “I don’t know…” You sounded resigned, your shoulders slumped and the weight of your decision finally dawning on you. Everything you’ve prepared to tell him completely slipped out of your mind as soon as you took a look at him; his tall wide frame taking up most of the width of the corridor, his boy shorts doing very little to hide his muscular thighs and the top he wore clung to his frame as if it was sown on him.

“I need to talk to you.” You swallowed, uncertainty gripping at your heart. His stoicism at the sight of you did very little to reassure you that your talk would go well. “Fuck, this is not how I planned it to go.” Muttering to yourself you went to turn around prepared to leave ignoring the parts of your brain that were pointing out how wrong abandoning ship was.

“Come in.” You could have missed the softness in his voice if your ears hadn’t been straining for any sign of him acknowledging your presence. Your feet weighed down by lead, you slowly turned around, almost certain you resembled a deer caught in headlights. The gentle smile on his face caught you by surprise, confusing enough for you to follow after him willingly.

“In here, there’s no one in as the monthly frat party is on today.” He shrugged as he entered the open kitchen area.

Looking around you almost whistled, impressed with how clean the space was. You’d imagine with so many boys on one floor the space would be a mess.

“Seokjin cleans it and Jungkook and Yoongi are too neat for their own good.” Namjoon explained, answering your unvoiced question.

“Why are you not at the party?” You inquired not daring to look at him or touch anything. You were more than prepared to be told to leave, aware that Namjoon may not want anything to do with you.

“Why are you here?” Instead of answering he decided to fire his own question, his hesitant step bringing him closer to you.

The chills from the outside still lingering in your bones immediately let up as he placed a hesitant hand on your shoulder. Tired of games and tired of pretending like your feelings for him didn’t occupy a good majority of your brain you decided it was now or never – and this time you meant it.

“Namjoon I–“ You didn’t get the chance to finish as his arm sneaked around your waist and you were pulled into him, your body immediately responding to his warmth. Burying your head into his shoulder you slapped him slightly. “Let me finish.” You all but whined wiggling into his hold.

“I don’t think I can. Y/N, do you know what you do to me?” He said, voice as strong as his grip on your hips. Inhaling, you felt your throat constrict the thought of him being as affected by you as you were by him making your whole body tense up. Shaking your head you didn’t say anything you couldn’t risk saying anything.

Pulling you further into him, his hips grinding on yours you moaned, how could you have missed that? The bulge that pushed into you, a clear indication of his want, made you weak to the knees. Without a word you rose on your tiptoes, your breath warm against his neck and you rejoiced in the shudder of his body as you whispered your consent to him.

“Then take me Kim Namjoon, I am all yours.”

Not missing a beat you dropped to your knees, fingers doing a quick work of his trousers as you pulled them down along with his boxers. Banking that information for later as he definitely didn’t seem like a boxer type of man, you focused on the hardened member in front of you, its red veiny shape, tip dripping with precum, enough evidence that he wanted this as much as you did. Taking a hold of his dick, your fingers smeared the fluid, making it easier for you to slide your palm along its length, you ignored his pleas for you to grasp him fully. Smirking up as you locked eyes with his hooded ones, you let the tip of your tongue peek out in between your lips, the only warning he had before you leant in mapping him with your tongue, starting from the base all the way to the tip, following the veins that seemed to be pulsing underneath your touch.

“Y/N fuck.” As much as he wanted to keep himself together he couldn’t. Looking down he felt his dick lurch with an influx of desire. The feel of your warm wet mouth wrapping itself around the head of his cock, sucking him in your mouth until he could feel the back of your throat combined with the sight of you before him, looking up, hand wrapped around the base of him pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth he knew he wouldn’t last long. Running a hand through your hair letting himself get lost in you hollowing your cheeks pulling him further in for a few more seconds before he decided he’d had enough. Eyes focused on something onto the counter opposite him, he smirked. If it was a cooking class that brought you two back together, he may just as well.

“Baby.” He bucked against your mouth one last time before he gently pulled away from you, bending down to pick you up. Thankful for his strength, he carried you to the opposite counter, ignoring how his cock jumped at the sight of your wet red lips, the desire to taste you and make you writhe under him stronger than his need to come.

As Namjoon carried you, your hands placed tightly onto his shoulder, holding yourself to him you let the confusion take over the hazy lust in your brain. Unsure of his plans and whether or not he changed his mind, you were prepared to question him until he placed you on top of the counter by the sink, his lips attaching onto yours in a brief harsh kiss as his hands slid underneath your top immediately attaching themselves to your breasts. Shuddering at the coldness of his hands you bucked into him, your pussy clenching at air, your panties already clinging to you as he trailed his fingers over every bit of skin he could find before he found the hem of your top. His movements as he pulled it over your head ripped a loud moan out of your throat. Not wasting time in finding your hardened nipples, sucking them into his mouth as he would a straw, your hips bucking at the sensation.

“Namjoon, shit, touch me please.” You begged , back arching and fingers digging into his shoulder desperate to feel more of him.

“Be patient.” He mumbled against your breasts, his hands sliding down to the elastic band of your bottoms, making quick work of them. The feeling of your panties clinging to your pussy lips before he pulled them down made you moan desperate for his fingers on you, in you, anywhere near your entrance. “First,” he bit roughly on your nipple making your head fall back at the pinch of pain travelling down your spine. “I need to taste your honey.”

His words would have been enough to turn you on if you weren’t already soaking wet by then, but the sight of him pulling away from you, his eyes dark with lust his hair mussed from where your fingers gripped at it made you bite your lip, a grumble of need stuck in your throat.

Reaching out past you, you could see the neckline of his top getting wetter by the beads of sweat running down the length of his throat, and you reveled in the knowledge that he was as hot for you as you were for him.

“What are you doing?” Witnessing the jar holding the clear amber coloured honey it didn’t take long for you to process what he had in store for you. “Fuck Joon, you better not–“ You were unable to finish your thought a whimper spilling out of your mouth as his lips attached themselves to the nape of your throat, his teeth latching on as if tasting you was his only source of sustenance. Lapping at the red marks he left you found yourself completely distracted from his plans as his hand easily found your wet core, fingers slipping easily in between your pussy lips.

“So wet and ready for me. You’re hungry aren’t you?” He mumbled between nipping at your skin and licking his way down between your breasts.

You pushed into his hand, desperate for him to fill you having been teased enough to want his fingers deep in you.

“Joon please, make me cum.” Your pleading voice was laced with want. “Make me cum around your fingers.” Dismissing your pleas, Namjoon chuckled. Pulling his hand away you almost whined at the loss of contact before your breath got stuck in your throat as he guided his fingers to his mouth, tongue peeking out licking a long strip from his wrist to the tip of his finger. His eyes locked on yours he smirked showing you his hand.

“Look how wet you are, you’ve soaked my entire hand.” You bit your lip as you felt your muscles clench at the sight of your juices coating the palm of his hand running all the way down. Grabbing it you mimicked his actions licking away at the wetness moaning at the taste of yourself. “Fuck Y/N, you’re honestly going to be the death of me.” The last warning before he snapped, hand gripping your thigh sliding it once more between your lips. This time he let you know he was done playing games too, two fingers finding your entrance easily sliding in deep to the knuckle making you yell out in pleasure.

“You’re sweet Y/N, but I prefer my desserts even sweeter.” You didn’t know when he’d opened the jar, but when the hand that wasn’t knuckle deep in your pussy slid down your forearm grabbing a hold of yours guiding it into the thick sticky honey you jolted at the sensation.

“Do you like that?” He grunted as he pushed his fingers deeper into your cunt. You nodded, unable to respond, his thumb pushing ruthlessly on your swollen clit combined with the feeling of his digits digging deep into you made your toes curl in pleasure. Clenching your fingers around the jar of honey, the thickness of the sweet treat coating your skin providing a whole new feeling as it slipped through your enclosed digits.

“It’s not as good as the feeling of you clinging to my fingers like a hungry whore.” He rasped out pumping his fingers faster into you hard enough that you found yourself unable to keep up with his rhythm. Letting your legs drop from the counter you leaned into him, completely surrendering to the feeling of your cunt pulsing around his fingers.

“Fuck Joon, I’m close. Don’t stop.” The sweat clinging onto your skin made it hard for you to stay in one place, the shiny surface of the counter now slick with your wetness aiding with your position as it rocked you enough to ground your clit onto his thumb.

“Come for me baby, coat my fingers like the honey is coating yours.” Feeling his words deep in your core you felt yourself spasm, the beginning of the high of your orgasm overtaking you. You clung onto what you could dismissing the jar of honey that rolled away from you, your sticky fingers gripping onto the hand into your cunt as you came spots of white dotting your vision.

“Fuck that was hot.” He breathed out a moan, his fingers interlacing with yours, the honey dripping in between them onto the counter. “But I’m not yet done.” He warned before he brought his honey coated hand onto your nipple smearing the sticky substance on it. “I’ve had my dessert but I want seconds.” Struggling to catch your breath from the intensity of your orgasm, your muscles still spasming with the aftershocks, you jolted as he bent down, his mouth sucking in your coated nipple, teeth grinding at the sensitive nub.

“Joon, harder.” Despite how sensitive you felt, you revelled in the feel of his tongue lapping at the sensitive nub.

Still latched onto your breasts he aligned himself with your entrance, his stiff member teasing your lips as he rubbed it against you coating himself in your cum. “Can you come for me one more time?” He pulled away from your nipple to look at you, the suction sound of his lips reverberated through the empty kitchen.

Not caring if you sounded desperate you breathed out a moan, his tip teasing your entrance too much for you to bear. “Make me cum one more time Joon.” The way his eyes darkened with lust before he slammed his hips into you, burying his dick into your cunt was enough of a promise. Not wasting any time he pounded into you ruthlessly his force pushing you further onto the counter until you’d slipped so far he couldn’t reach you without straining.

Groaning he pulled himself out of you and you immediately pushed yourself off turning your back to him.

“Let's switch shall we? Fill me up.” You smirked at him over your shoulder as you bent over the counter.

The sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, your bottom red from the friction with the counter and your wet pussy peeking at him from between your legs prompted another breathy moan out of him. Slowly approaching you he enjoyed the view for a bit longer his hand wrapped around his dick pumping himself ready to sheath himself in you once more. Taking his time he bent over your form pulling his top over his head. With no barrier between your skin and his you shuddered his warmth over your cold and sticky flesh.

“Joon, hurry.” You wiggled impatiently under him, desperate to get him back inside of you.

Sucking in a deep breath, he dug his hips into you, flattening you against the countertop. He Aligned himself with your entrance at the same time as his eyes settled on the jar of honey a few centimetres away from your hand. thrusting roughly into you he reached out sweeping the droplets of sticky syrup with his fingers before he wiped it on your back.

Your breath hitched with a moan stuck in your throat. Savouring the feel of his length filling you to the brim at the same time as the honey dripped over your sensitive skin you arched your back into him, your walls clenching around his dick.

“Mmm, I need more.” Your lustful whines increased in volume as he pounded into you, the slick sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against each other, echoing throughout the room.

“Look at you, you’re so messy, we have to clean you first” Namjoon smirked. Pulling your chest slightly off the countertop and towards him, he began to lick your back clean. The feeling of his hot wet tongue sloppily sliding down your back made you squirm, and your head lolled back down to the countertop in ecstasy.

Feeling himself close to coming he pulled you into him, his fingers digging into your shoulder. “I’m close baby, are you ready to cum?” He crooned into your ear, as his free hand trailed down to your clit.

As he pressed down onto the sensitive nub you choked back a sob, your nerves on fire, the heat pooling in your stomach increasing in intensity. “Joon, I’m close.” You rasped desperate to catch your breath, every muscle quivering in pleasure.

“Just like that baby girl, come for me.” He ordered, the speed of his fingers thrumming against your clit increasing at the same time as the pace of his dick thrusting into you did.

The sound of his deep raspy moans in your ear drove you to your climax pulling a final wail out of your raw throat, writhing with the intensity of it, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

“That’s it baby, come all over me.” With a final thrust Namjoon gripped your shoulder as he enjoyed your walls milking him as he reached his peak, spilling himself deep inside of you.

The aftershocks of your orgasms left you panting over the counter, skin slick with sweat, honey and your own cum. For a few seconds neither of you said a word as you caught your breath.

“Well, that was… something.” You chuckled, letting the cold countertop cool your heated forehead.

Namjoon pulled himself out of you, careful not to hurt you. “Are you ok?” Instantly reverting back to the slightly shy and awkward man he helped you up, eyes checking for any sign of distress or pain.

“I am ok.” You reassured him, eyes taking in the mess you’ve made of yourselves and the kitchen. “Though, this needs a clean.” You laughed gesturing at the room.

Following your hand Namjoon snorted as he reverently bent down, hands safely placed around you as he picked you up. “Later, first we need a clean.”

========

Letting yourself be carried to his bed wearing his shirt, the warmth and scent of him enveloping you made you feel drowsy. Despite the afterglow of having orgasmed and the hazy feeling of sleep waiting to overtake you, you knew you still had a few things to clear up between the two of you. Judging by Namjoon’s perched position on the bed, his hand wrapped around yours and a pensive look in his eyes, he too seemed to not be keen on resting.

“Why did you do it?” It seemed stupid to start this conversation after having had sex in his kitchen, yet it was something you needed to know.

“Hm?” Namjoon’s distracted voice let you know he was in a world of his own. Taking a hold of your hand, his long fingers slotting next to yours as if they’d always belonged there, he readjusted himself on the bed so that he was facing you. You fought down the flustered feeling and the butterflies swarming in your stomach, a feeling that seemingly never went away whenever he was around you. His sole attention on you and his unwavering stare made you wonder if he’s always looked at you like that and you’ve just never noticed.

“Why did you do it? You know, the recipe, putting your grade on the line for me?” You tried your hardest to hold his gaze but found yourself short for words as his gaze softened his hand pulling onto yours bringing you closer to him. He wrapped you in his arms, the heat of his body providing the comfort you needed to carry on with this conversation.

“There isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you.” He mumbled head buried in your hair and you were more than grateful that your face was hidden from him. You settled for a mock groan as you pinched his side.

“Stop being cheesy.” You chuckled. Not able to fight the giddiness threatening to burst out of you, you let out a laugh as he retaliated, his fingers ghosting over your ribs. “Namjoon.” You whined trying in vain to capture his hand. “I’m being serious.”

“No you aren’t, your name’s not Black.” He quipped in reminding you of the obsession he’s always had with the British books. You couldn’t help but snort at his terrible pun. Pulling away from you, his eyes searching yours, your breath caught in your throat when realisation dawned on you.

“You mean it.” You whispered and he nodded seriously.

“I do.”

“But those times when you didn’t– I…” You sputtered finding it hard to believe that all the times he’s laughed in your face or criticised you were a figment of your imagination.

“You came to confess in the middle of my swimming competition when I was barely a teen! I didn’t know what to say, the girl I’d crushed on for years confessed, in front of my friends might I add.” He defended himself and you found yourself unable to refute that.

“Still. You’re better with words than I am, you could’ve done better than that.” You grumbled, salty for the years you’d wasted thinking he’s never even liked you let alone crush on you.

“I’m sorry, as good as you think I may be with words, I am still human. And you drive me insane every time you’re near. I’m lucky if I can string words together to sound coherent.” He said it casually but for you, those words meant everything. Smiling to yourself, your heart warm and full you brought yourself closer to him, your fingers digging into the smooth skin on his back.

“Mm’like that. Carry on.” You purred in satisfaction making him laugh.

“Don’t make it a habit of breaking and entering like that.” He warned but the light tone in his voice made it sound less threatening and more of a jab.

“For your information, I had important stuff to do. Also, the pool doesn’t count. That is open for all!” You protested feeling the heat rush to your cheeks remembering having caught him exiting the pool.

“Admit it, you just like the sight of me naked.” You couldn’t help but scoff at his preposterous affirmation.

“I’m the cook, not the swimmer, Joon. I’d rather you naked in an apron than you naked in a pool.” You responded, the thought of him in an apron already making you hot underneath the sheets. Namjoon seriously regarded you for a moment before he pulled you into a kiss.

“It can be arranged.”

To you, Yoongi would always be that seemingly aloof coworker with a tight rein on his emotions, but one whose voice can command the entire room with just the simplest of words. It wasn’t surprising that he rose quickly through the ranks and you watched with quiet pride when he was inducted into the Senior Sound Engineers circle for the next version launch of the company’s hit mobile game.

Though it took you a few more months, you soon joined him in the ranks to work alongside the project with a team of Creative Directors. Introducing yourself to a room of ambitious souls was a nerve-wracking experience, but it was only made bearable when you caught Yoongi’s eyes in the back of the room as his warm presence continued to provide a quiet flow of support that strengthened your nerve. Ever since that day, you held his gaze steadfastly whenever you presented a new concept to the team, and if you’re lucky, you’d find a tangerine sitting prettily on your desk the next morning.

With the highly anticipated one-year anniversary launch coming up soon, you’re swamped with endless meetings to finalize the details that would be included, so much so that you’d find yourself reminiscing about the early days. Though combing through a never-ending list of demands from players was tedious, you relished in the quiet that surrounded you and Yoongi, the two of you lost in your own worlds with only the clicks of keyboards accompanying your routines.

As time and busyness enveloped your lives, they robbed you from seeing one another and it didn’t surprise you to learn that the sprouting feelings you once had for the ebony-haired man were eventually absorbed by the cacophony of noise around you. However, not all is lost, because you’ve gathered the scattered petals on the ground and chose to call it a different name: friendship.

And though it felt like months since you last talked or even been in the same room with each other, you couldn’t help but smile at the rare moments when you’re greeted in the morning with the comforting scent from the small, citrus fruit.

---

The day started out rather pleasant, the stifling summer air made way for a gentle breeze, cooling down the normal heatwave that lurks in the alleys of the city. You hadn’t even slept that terribly, even waking up before your alarm clock to enjoy the morning air as you sipped coffee from your favourite mug. As you smiled at the chirping birds in a nearby tree, you just can’t shake the feeling that today was going to be great.

Or so you thought.

As soon as you arrive at the office, your lifted spirits deflate as your assistant frantically calls your name in near tears.

“Dowon leaked the character concept,” she informs you in a high-pitch shriek as you shouldered your way through a sea of panicking bodies. “Namjoon wants to see you.”

From what you can gather in the few minutes you had with your assistant as you turned around to walk in the other direction towards Namjoon’s office, the newest artist in your team, Dowon, had posted a selfie of himself on Twitter that contained the early sketches of the not-yet-released Yuna in the background. He hadn’t realized his mistake until he checked his ever-buzzing phone, and upon looking at the encroaching thousands of retweets and likes, his panic was evident in his pallor. Although he deleted the tweet immediately after his discovery, the news had already spread like wildfire – with users reposting the tweets on multiple platforms outside of just Twitter.

When you enter Namjoon’s office, his back is turned towards you. He’s talking to someone on the phone in harsh whispers, though your deafening heart rate makes it hard for you to piece together the words.

“G-Good morning,” comes a timid voice from your side.

You blink in surprise at Dowon’s trembling figure. Of course, he’d be here, but your mind had been so preoccupied with the disaster that you hadn’t noticed his presence. With his shoulders raised to the skies, he sinks into himself, unable to meet your gaze. You’re suddenly parched, throat constricting around your reply, unable to push the words out, so you offered him a half-hearted smile instead.

Your attention is stolen when Namjoon clears his throat. The blue tie on his neck is slightly loose, and the way he sighs as he slumps on his dark leather chair causes a stone to drop in your stomach. When Namjoon regards you with his steel gaze, his mouth is pulled into a grim line.

“I assume you’ve been informed about what happened?”

Dowon squeaks from beside you and you steal a quick glance at the pitiful man, your heart clenching at the unshed tears in his eyes. He isn’t the best artist in your team, but he does work the hardest. If Namjoon decides to terminate his contract, it will be hard for you to hire another artist so late into the development.

You nod. “Minju told me what happened on our walk to your office, yes.”

Namjoon’s face is unreadable, a stone mask that doesn’t betray what he’s thinking. The only indication that this situation may be worse than what you’d imagine is the way Namjoon’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek, a rare expression you’ve only seen a handful of times in your employment.

You’re unable to breathe with the thick, palpable tension in the air. Namjoon studies both your figures in the silence, and you wonder if he’s quietly enjoying this.

“Dowon,” he says calmly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again,” Dowon stammers. He bows as he balls his slacks into his fists.

Namjoon nods and returns his attention to you. “Tell me, how’s his performance as of late?”

You feel a prickling sensation as Dowon’s pleading gaze snaps to you. “His work is consistent.” You maintain the intense eye contact with Namjoon, resolute in defending your employee. “You won’t find another artist like him this late in the game, sir.”

Tension releases your body from its hold when Namjoon shifts his gaze away from you. The breath of relief you let out seems to reassure Dowon, and from the corner of your eye, you can see the way his shoulders begin to relax.

“Dowon, you may go,” Namjoon announces.

You offer a congratulatory smile at the man beside you, one he returns with a deep bow before he scurries out of Namjoon’s office. The unsettling feeling returns to your stomach when the door shuts behind you.

“Unfortunately,” Namjoon mutters, his expression turning grim once more. “I have some bad news for you.”

---

You can’t stop the hot tears from making their way down your cheeks as you barricade yourself in the copy room. Your team, possibly sensing your ire after you left Namjoon’s office without so much as a hint of a smile, has left you alone to wallow until it was time for them to go, where they quietly slip away without so much as a wave.

“Stupid thing!” you grumble, kicking the wheel of the copier in frustration.

For the past hour or so, you’ve been trying to print the incident report you’ve painstakingly typed out all afternoon. Your meeting with Namjoon has left a nasty mark on your otherwise pristine office life. You can’t blame him, knowing that the decision has been made prior to you stepping foot on the ugly navy carpet of your office, but you can’t help the anger that rises steadily towards the man either.

After Dowon left, having been dismissed by Namjoon, your boss informed you that you’ve been written up for your negligence, which, as you spat out to him that morning, was complete and utter bullshit. Namjoon patiently listened to you rant as you plead your case, but your passionate words didn’t make a dent in his armour.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon murmured as he handed you a yellow slip. “Please have this signed along with the incident report. I expect it on my desk first thing in the morning.”

The beeping from the printer breaks you of your thoughts and you cast your gaze down to the LCD screen flashing red and yellow, signifying yet another paper jam on the side of the printer.

Defeat pulls you down on to the floor, where you bring your knees close to your chest as you bury your face into your hands.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You lift your face to meet Yoongi’s worried gaze. Great.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just been a really long day.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, one that Yoongi returns with a sad smile.

He makes his way to your crouched figure before sitting down next to you, both your backs leaning against the printer. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Though you’re touched by his sincerity, a part of you hesitates to tell him what’s wrong, especially since your interactions thus far have been minute due to your busy schedules.

Sensing your reluctance, Yoongi nudges you lightly with his shoulders, a growing smile on his face. “Come on,” he urges. “I’ve heard you talk about your weekend since we were interns. You were never shy about discussing your thoughts before, why are you hiding them from me now?”

With a shuddering sigh, you smile gratefully at Yoongi before highlighting the unfortunate moments from this morning. True to his nature, Yoongi listens closely as you speak, chiming in once or twice with a few hums. Though as you begin to retell what happened in Namjoon’s office, Yoongi tenses beside you, his once worried expression morphing into fury.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi slams his fist to the copier behind you. “That’s bullshit!”

“Yeah? Well, tell that to Namjoon,” you snicker. In all the time you’ve known Yoongi, you have never seen him so upset. “It’s fine, really. I’ve never been written up before, so it’s not the end of the world. Plus, Namjoon said that it was out of his hands,” you sigh. “I just hope it doesn’t look bad on my performance review.”

Yoongi releases his bottom lip from his teeth, but not after he tortures it to a point where you see little pricks of red peeking through the soft tissue. Your hand moves on its own as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb, tutting at the small injury. When you realize what you’ve done, you snatch your hand away quickly, your cheeks aflame when Yoongi looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, force of habit!” you stammer. “I have cousins and they’re a messy bunch, always wrestling with each other and getting cuts all over.”

God! What was wrong with you? With a silent prayer for the ground to open up, you bury your face into your hands, trying to hide away the embarrassment colouring your face.

“Thank you.”

With an amused chuckle, Yoongi gingerly removes your palms from your face to force your gaze back to his. “I mean it,” he whispers as he lets go of your hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you utter just as quietly. “Really, I should be thanking you for listening to me; not just about this fiasco, but for all the times I bugged you during our intern days.”

Yoongi tilts his head, his smile faltering slightly. “That’s assuming that you’re a bother.” At your protests, he begins to laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, I like listening to you talk,” he beams. “If I hated your voice, I wouldn’t have listened to you drone on and on about the countless awful blind dates your friends set you up with.”

“Oh my god! Why would you bring that up?” you laugh, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I should probably get on with this,” you pat the printer a few times, “I still have an incident report to print out.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the mention of your task. “Leave it until the morning. It’s all formality anyway.”

“I would never have guessed that one of the greatest sound engineers in our company is a troublemaker.”

He chuckles at your teasing grin. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes as he murmurs, with a voice so low that goosebumps appear on your skin, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Your thoughts slow to a crawl as he pins you with his gaze. Was his face always this close to you? Breathing becomes secondary as your heart hammers in its cage. What was he thinking behind those rich irises?

“Yoongi, I…” you begin, but you’re not sure what you wanted to say next.

The spell breaks when his lips curl up into an easygoing smile. “Come on.” Yoongi stands and offers you a hand. “I’ll help you with the printer, only if you promise to get a drink with me.”

Bewildered at his sudden offer, you can only muster a nod as he helps you stand.

“Okay, let’s see what’s going on with this thing…”

You watch Yoongi work on the printer for a few minutes, though really, your mind is drifting further away as the feelings you thought had disappeared seem to resurface back into reality. After opening two separate compartments in the printer, Yoongi’s able to find the source of the jam and removed it, instructing you to press a few buttons on the small LCD screen. Like magic, the flashing red warning sign stops and a little jingle resounds instead before the machine begins to spit out your documents into the tray.

“How did you…” you begin, staring in awe as the printer staples your report together.

“Well, the IT guys were taking a long time to appear this one time and our team really needed to print some reports. Since no one seemed to know what to do, I just rolled up my sleeves and opened it to find the issue,” he explains as he hands you the stack of paper. “Ever since then, every time this printer acts up, my team usually comes to me for help.”

Yoongi flashes an amused smirk in your direction as he wipes his toner-covered hands with a handkerchief. “So, ready for that drink?”

---

The walk to the trendy bar just a little way outside of your office is filled with a round of 20 questions. It’s strange to see Yoongi in this light, so animated and full of life. He talked about college; how he switched majors from business despite his parents’ disapproval. In return, you talk about your favourite musicians before learning that you listen to similar genres.

When you enter the mostly full bar and squeeze yourselves into the booth, the conversation never ceases, only stopping briefly when a waiter comes to take your order. Not wanting to drink on an empty stomach, you ordered a plate of appetizers – wings and nachos – to accompany your liquor.

“Good choice. They have the best nachos here,” Yoongi comments just as the waiter takes your menu and leaves.

“Oh? Do you come here often?”

“Yeah. They have live music a few times a month and my friend recently got a gig here, so I showed up to support him.” Yoongi points to the dim stage area where a microphone and a singular chair stand.

“That’s sweet of you! Okay, what else don’t I know about you, Yoongi… Do you have a secret identity? Office worker by day, criminal mastermind by night?” you tease.

Yoongi laughs into his hand, shaking his head. “Oh, if I was a criminal mastermind, I wouldn’t be stuck working at an office job. I’d just steal a bunch of money so I can live in peace.”

Just as you begin to ask about his plans for conquering the world, your food and drinks arrive, holding off the conversation for a later time. You’re too busy munching on your nachos and sipping your liquor of choice that it takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi stopped eating.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Yoongi studies you as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re finally yourself again.”

“It helps that I have a friend to talk to,” you beam. “Thanks for taking me out tonight too.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiles. “Sorry, I got a bit in my head there because I felt like I was pushing you to go when you didn’t want to.”

“Honestly? I’m glad you did. If not, I would’ve been at home alone to just drink myself under. That can’t be healthy.”

“Oh, and drinking in a relatively crowded bar is?” he fires back before bursting into laughter.

“That’s not what I meant!” you protest with a pout, stuffing your face full of nachos.

You continue to eat until only the platter empties. Through the night, the empty glasses beside you increase in quantity as you let yourself go with the flow of conversation and music. Once, Yoongi made you try something called a ‘Blue Moon’, his favourite beer imported from the Midwestern area of the United States that is served with a slice of orange.

“That reminds me, I never thanked you for the tangerines you leave on my desk,” you muse, drinking the last of the beer. The citrusy taste lingers on your tongue even as you switch over to chug a glass full of water.

Yoongi grins as he raises his glass. “Of course. A good job always deserves a reward.”

“Oh, and what kind of reward are you looking for?” You couldn’t help but snort when Yoongi chokes on his drink.

“You’ll pay for this one day,” he pouts as he cleans up his mess with a napkin.

Sure, your day was less than stellar, but after the Yoongi’s presence, you couldn’t help the smile that found its way into your face as you crawled into bed.

---

The next couple of days after the incident was just as you expected. The office is abuzz with gossip when you enter, with some brave folks asking if what transpired during Namjoon’s office was true. You confirmed what little you could, preferring to keep the details of your write up a secret, away from loose lips.

Though the energy surrounding your team has shifted, some are wary of working with Dowon in the event that another leak, your spirits lift slightly when you spy a familiar round orange fruit on top of your files this morning. Unlike all the other instances however, this one has a note attached to it.

“Drinks are on me tonight.”

And maybe… just maybe, things aren’t so bad after all.

---

“Fuck!” You slam the empty glass to the table, causing a few patrons to look over in your direction.

“Whoa, settle down there.” Yoongi’s comforting presence has not placated your anger the way it normally would.

Despite the launch happening within less than a month, your team is behind on some of the last-minute touches for the characters, making you work overtime for the past few days now. Speaking of the devil, your phone chimes and you spy the email that one of your employees sent you, asking for approval on a last-minute design change.

You type your confirmation with a low grumble under your breath, upset that even with the weekend within sight, your team is still hard at work.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you mutter as you lock your phone and stash it back in your purse. “I’m sure it’s hellish on your end too and I’m taking this out on you.”

“I guess I should feel honoured?” he snickers, raising his glass to you. “When you were written up, you barely opened up to me and now look at us, drinking away our stress in the same booth every other day.”

You tap the bottom of his beer with your glass before taking a sip, grimacing as the liquor burns its way down your throat. “Well, it beats drinking alone,” you sigh.

Over the past month now, ever since the incident, you and Yoongi have made a point to meet at the bar every now and again, mostly to complain about work.

“Your blood pressure is off the charts, huh?”

“I feel like I’ll probably die before I reach 40 if this is how my team handles every launch,” you grumble, not affected by his joviality.

“Relax, tomorrow’s Friday! And then we have a long weekend ahead of us. Just bear with it for one more day, okay?”

You grumble an unintelligible response as you sip on your drink. Numb from the drinks, you’re not as perceptive as you usually are, completely missing the way he’s currently staring at you. His lips are downturned as he absentmindedly drums his fingers on the side of his beer before he finally pipes up.

“You know… I can help you with that. Your stress, I mean. I know that this was pretty much my idea – to get drunk and forget the stress” – you can’t help but raise your glass and chug as he continues to speak – “but I may have a healthier alternative.”

“Okay, spill. What do you have in mind?”

“I can always make you cum.”

As though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb in your time together, Yoongi continues to drink his beer nonchalantly, while your mind struggles to comprehend what he just said.

“I’m sorry… what? Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, I heard an orgasm is the best way to get over your stress and I’m pretty confident in my abilities.”

Your brain is unable to form the correct syllables to convey your thoughts.

The fact that Yoongi finds you attractive is a miracle in itself, especially when he walks around charming everyone in the office with his swoopy black hair and easy smile. Maybe your crush on him is slowly rearing its head again after all these years, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to risk changing the relationship you currently have. Being Yoongi’s friend has been easy; he’s a great listener and you’re only scratching the surface behind the quiet exterior he presents.

However, somewhere deep inside, you must’ve wanted to change the dynamic to something more, or else why would you be questioning his proposal so intently?

While you’re busy staring into the amber liquid in your glass, Yoongi reaches out to cover the back of your hand with his, breaking you from the internal struggle in your mind. “Hey, if you’re not into it, don’t worry,” he chuckles, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just offering my services. No strings attached, kind of deal.”

The question stands: why? As you stare into the hand that’s currently enveloping yours, you can’t fathom why someone like Yoongi would give you the time of day. It didn’t seem real – his proposal. But then, your gaze drifts to his face and after spending so much time with him, you know that Yoongi isn’t one to joke around.

“Don’t think about it too hard, okay?” He speaks just as he spies the waiter coming towards you with your check. “Looks like the bar’s going to close pretty soon. So, how about we get out of here and call it a night?”

---

That night, you toss and turn in your sheets, feeling a sense of emptiness. You can’t help but replay the scene from the bar – specifically Yoongi's nonchalant proposal.

Unable to sleep, you think. And then you think some more. Until your head is swimming with alcohol and something else.

And that’s when you call Yoongi at 3:22 in the morning, slightly surprised that he’s still awake.

"On the topic of what we talked about in the bar tonight…” you begin, biting your bottom lip nervously.

Yoongi groans on the other line. “I’m serious when I said you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re cool. If you’re not into the idea, I get—”

You cut him off before he could ramble further, smirking into the phone. “How confident are you?”

Instead of answering, Yoongi chuckles. “Wear a skirt and you’ll find out tomorrow, hm?”

---

It isn’t strange for you to be seated next to Yoongi during the manager’s meeting, especially since how closely you have to work with the sound department, but you can’t help but squirm in your seat as you attempt to listen to Namjoon summarizing the development reports he received in preparation for the launch.

Your seat is pushed almost flushed against the table, with the edge digging into your abdomen, to hide Yoongi’s fingers that are currently trailing ambiguous shapes into your skin. Coupled with the fact that he’s currently holding your panties hostage in the pockets of his slacks, every time you feel the cold bite of his metal rings when he travels higher, you clench around nothing while trying not to whine in front of the twenty-something people gathered in the room.

Taking a chance to look around the room, you’re only met with bored faces and yawning mouths, and there’s a subtle groan when Namjoon moves the PowerPoint slides to talk about last season’s numbers. However, whatever brilliant revelation he’s about to impart on you is drowned out by the roaring desire when Yoongi’s fingertips brush against your folds.

He whistles low while staring at the pie chart, and the few chuckles floating from the back of the room assume that he’s talking about the high numbers last season brought in, when in actuality, Yoongi’s pleasantly surprised at how wet you already are; your pussy sucking his fingers in down to the second knuckle.

The breath leaves your lungs when Namjoon raises an eyebrow when his gaze floats over to the two of you.

“Tell me about it. You really knocked it out of the park with the background music for the new area,” he chuckles, nodding his praise to Yoongi.

The corner of Yoongi’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to take over his features. Oh, if only your coworkers knew.

Your poor bottom lip is bruised and swollen from your constant need to swallow down your moans. Sweat slicks all over your arms and back as you sit rigid, your legs pushed apart, and Yoongi’s unhurried fingers traverse your sopping cunt, taking care not to make too much noise in the otherwise quiet meeting room.

“All right, that’s pretty much all I have for you today. Thanks for letting me drone on for an hour,” he winces when he looks at the clock, “…and a half. Enjoy the rest of the day,” Namjoon chuckles as he adjourns the meeting.

You exhale gradually when Yoongi leaves your cunt as the others begin to stand. On one hand, you’re relieved, grateful that you weren’t caught because you were definitely breaking a slew of code violations while you’re getting handsy on the table. On the other, the strong need to orgasm only surges in your veins, wanting nothing more than to have Yoongi fuck you right then and there; consequences be damned.

“Aren’t you getting up?” Yoongi quips, an amused grin on his face.

You glower at his smirk, unable to form a sensible comeback with your heartbeat still steadfast on a thundering rhythm. When you do get out of your chair, the grip you hold on to the back is strong, your legs feeling like jelly after being teased for so long.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as Yoongi extends a hand – the one that was inside of you just mere moments ago.

With your shaky legs, you walk stiffly out of the meeting room, but not after stealing a glance around the remaining crowd to see if anyone noticed anything strange. Everyone, including Namjoon, seemed indifferent.

“And how was that?” Yoongi questions once you’re out of earshot.

“Unbelievably hot. I think I could’ve cum if Namjoon kept on talking,” you admit with a grin.

“Interesting,” he hums. “Do you have any meetings after this?”

Before answering his question, you look through your phone calendar. “Nope, I don’t have anything until 2pm.” That’s a lie – you meant to check in with your artists all day today, but the curiosity got the better of you and you wonder what it was he has planned.

“Come to my office in half an hour? I’ll make sure we’re undisturbed.”

Though he posed it as a question, you know it’s anything but.

Yoongi walks away with a smirk and you have to bring your legs together as you anticipate what he has planned next.

---

This is nothing like the meeting this morning.

Yoongi has you pressed up against the copier, holding your leg up as his fingers return to their rightful place inside you. The metal bits dig into your shoulders as you shift your hips, allowing him access into your deepest parts.

“Yoongi—”

The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut in time with his thrusts. The sleeves of his dress shirt are seeped with your arousal, yet Yoongi doesn’t care, too focused on your pussy swallowing his fingers whole.

“Look at you,” he breathes, marvelling at the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. “So needy and wet. Keep your voice down, hm? We don’t want the whole office to hear us, do we?”

You inhale sharply before busying yourself with your bottom lip as he slams his hand repeatedly inside, his fingertips stroking the patch of nerves that has your body jerking in his grip. The coil has been building for some time now – your head is already swimming with desire. When his thumb presses circles on your clit, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you come undone.

“S-So close,” you whimper. You’re arching your back as you’re practically sprawled all over the copy machine.

“Just let go, cum all over my hands,” he rasps before dipping lower to graze his teeth along your pulse point. “Cum for me.”

With a strangled moan, your body obeys his command. “Yoongi—fuck.”

While your team is out there, perfecting the project that’s due in a matter of weeks, you’re pulled apart at the seams – the orgasm slamming into you like waves as it cascades down your spine, making you shudder.

“Good girl, so good to me,” Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly into your hair. “So pretty when you cum.”

Your vision is blurry, filled with dancing lights as you attempt to calm your breathing. When Yoongi slips his fingers out of your cunt, you hiss, aching at the sensitivity. He massages your thighs with a hum, paying attention to the leg that was propped up for the entire duration of the… events.

“How’d I do?” he teases as he helps you smooth out the wrinkles from your skirt.

You’re honestly still reeling. Though your heart isn’t traveling a thousand miles an hour, it’s still clocking in the upper hundreds. Yet, your body did feel lighter, your mind also clearer somehow. You must admit, Yoongi orchestrated your body like an expert conductor – as though he’s known you all your life. No one has made you cum that quickly before.

Perhaps you should’ve kept those thoughts to yourself because you can see the way Yoongi seems to glow at your compliment: pride filling his chest along with a confident smirk on his face.

“Now, can I have my panties back, please?” you whisper as you hold out your hand.

Yoongi seemed to think for a moment, his lips turned upwards to the side. At your amusement and horror, he shakes his head. “I think I’ll hold on to these for the rest of the day.”

“Yoongi,” you state flatly, nervousness clawing up your belly, but you can’t deny the thrill either, so you don’t push it.

After he makes sure that no one seems to be paying attention to the copy room, Yoongi helps you sneak away, but not before filling your thoughts with some of his other ideas.

---

Your day passes like a blur, and you find yourself locking your legs more often as your distracted brain thinks about the events that happen this morning. The idea of Yoongi walking around the office with your lace underwear stuffed in his slacks makes poor company when you’re trying to work.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that your assistant had let herself in until she called your name again with a cough.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly. “I’m a bit distracted right now.”

Your assistant merely smiled demurely as she hands you a stack of reports you requested. “Here’s the information on the developments we’ve made over the past few months and the breakdown of the new region from the programmers for next year’s launch. We can start meeting with them to talk about what they want the art team to start working on.”

You skim through the details, humming along as your assistant explains the finer points of what is written. “Thank you, Suha. This looks good,” you praise.

Suha bows to you with a proud smile, but instead of leaving, she shifts her weight as she stands. “Actually, I was wondering if I could leave in half an hour?” she requests.

A mischievous idea pops in your head and you have to thread your hands together to avoid immediately texting a certain dark-haired man. “Sure,” you chirp in a voice too high as you fail to hide your excitement. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Yes, Suha. You’ve done a good job. Please feel free to leave now if you’d like.”

Suha claps her hands together and bows. “Thank you!” she calls out before disappearing.

When the door to your office closes shut, you fire out a text and hum, fingers drumming impatiently on the oak table as you wait for Yoongi to arrive.

---

“Took you long enough,” you smirk when he opens the door.

“Well, unlike some people, I was busy managing my team.”

Poking his head one more time to make sure that no one’s noticed his arrival, Yoongi closes the door firmly behind him, locking it in place.

“Now, why have you brought me into your office, hm?” he asks rhetorically before stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out the familiar garment. “Could it be because of this?”

You laugh quietly with a shake of your head. “Maybe it has something to do with that,” you muse, watching him approach with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Or maybe it’s because I’m just so stressed, you know?”

Yoongi chuckles at your insinuation before leaning forward until your faces are inches apart. “And,” he husks, wetting his lips with his tongue, “How can I help you?”

You hum as you grab him by the collar, crashing your lips against his as an answer to his question. In a spectacular feat, Yoongi’s strong arms lift you up from across the table, pulling you flush against his chest as he sits you down in front of him. Your legs wrap around his torso, causing your skirt to rise to display your bare pussy towards him.

Yoongi’s rough hands dig into the meat of your thighs as he grinds into your core. “Tell me. How did it feel walking around the office with no panties all day, hm?”

“Exhilarating,” you admit in a breathless moan, body aflame with desire as you feel his erection drag against your clit.

“And look at you now, so needy and ready for more. What do you think your team would say if they saw you like this?” Every few words are punctuated with Yoongi’s fingers undoing the buttons to your blouse.

“God, don’t ask me that,” you pout, arching your chest forward. “I don’t want to think about work right now.”

At this, he laughs. “Have you been thinking about work at all during the day? Some might say you’re a little distracted.”

Yoongi cuts off whatever retort you had prepared when he kisses along your jawline and down your neck, nipping the skin just harsh enough to send shivers down your spine, as he continues his mission to free your tits from their cage.

“Pretty,” he mumbles into your skin while palming your breasts.

The combined stimulation is almost too much for you to handle. With his hard cock dragging against your bare cunt and his lips attacking your neck, it doesn’t take long before your skin is riddled with goosebumps as you clamp your lips shut to stop yourself from moaning too loudly.

You find a moment of clarity when Yoongi unbuttons his pants, but just as you reach out to help him, a knock resounds at the door.

The two of you looked at each other in a momentary state of panic as you buttoned up your blouse in haste. Your hands tremble, making it hard for the plastic beads to slip into place, but somehow you managed to not wrinkle your clothes too much, though your heart thunders in your ears when you hear Namjoon, of all people, call your name from the other side of the door.

Making sure you’re both half decent, you unlock the door and yank it open, revealing a startled Namjoon in front of you.

“Uh… hey. Are you okay? Why was your door locked?”

You’re sweating and shaking, almost getting caught by your boss will do that to a person, but somehow you manage a curt nod, and when you lie, your voice actually sounded believable. “Yeah, just got a call about some interesting news from my family. How can I help you?”

Namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before shaking his head. “How about we talk inside?”

“That… um…” Your brain stalls for an excuse but fails. With a dejected heart, thinking that you’re probably going to get fired at this rate, you seal your fate and let your boss in… only to find yourself staring into an empty office.

Where had Yoongi gone?

Namjoon closes the door behind you and makes his way to your desk. You trail after him but before glancing around the room again. You find your answer when you sit down in your chair. Hunched under the desk is Yoongi, who has both his feet tucked under his chin as he grins at you. If Namjoon catches the way your eyes widen in surprise, he says nothing as you sit down.

“I’m just here to see how you’re doing, especially with the launch happening so soon. Is there anything I can help you with?”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, especially when you accidentally brush against Yoongi’s leg. “I really appreciate the offer, but you really don’t have to check in on me every single time we have a launch. This isn’t my first time, sir.”

Your boss only sighs, sinking into the chair. “I know, truth be told, I wanted to tell you that I’m in the process of getting your write up to disappear from the HR records since it’s really not your fault.”

“Wait… huh?” You blink at Namjoon slowly, genuinely surprised that he’d go through such lengths.

Namjoon only shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. I feel pretty awful about it. So, I pulled some strings and you have been granted your clean record back. That’s all I wanted to say, really. It just didn’t seem right if I brought it up in the hallway,” he grins, showing off his dimpled cheeks as he finished his explanation.

“Thanks, boss,” you mumble gratefully. “It means a lot to me that you’d do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” Namjoon chuckles. “Anyway, what’s with the interesting call? Is your family okay?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, unprepared for him to call out your lie. “They’re okay, I swear. Just some trouble with my cousins…”

Namjoon seems satisfied with your response, nodding after you trailed off. The silence feels suffocating. After a few more heartbeats, Namjoon stands to leave, calling out behind his shoulder as he opens the door, “Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

The instant the door clicks shut, you jump away from your chair as you help Yoongi stand.

“You all right?” you ask, looking him up and down before deeming that he’s fine.

The easy-going smile returns to his face almost immediately, giving you a full view of his gums. “That could’ve been bad.” Yoongi checks his watch and smiles, pointing at the time. “But, it’s now technically the weekend. So, how about we pack our things and get the hell out of here, huh?”

---

Yoongi’s apartment is everything like you’d imagine, clean and monochromatic with hints of blue popping here and there. Lining the walls of his bedroom are framed jerseys from a few athletes you recognize, all of them signed and probably costing a good fortune. Besides the decoration, there’s really only one other piece of furniture aside from the bed. Standing on the wall closest to the window is a black floor-to-ceiling bookcase, filled with all sorts of books and a few random photographs of his younger years.

But you have no time to observe fully, not when Yoongi pushes you on the bed with a quiet chuckle, demanding your attention once more as he kisses the length of your throat.

“Now, where were we?” he teases into your skin.

You can only giggle before the sound turns into a groan when his hand digs into the skin of your ass. “I have no idea, but I say, let’s just fuck.”

“Good answer.”

Yoongi doesn’t care to discard your clothing, choosing to simply ruck your skirt to your waist before his hands fit between your legs.

“Yoongi—ah! Stop teasing!” you whine, pressing your back into the mattress as you writhe under his touch.

“Not until I get a taste of you first.”

With a final peck to your lips, Yoongi drops to the edge of the bed before pulling you towards him until you feel his hot breath against your pussy. He takes his time with eating you out – alternating between licking your folds and sucking on your clit – as you moan and gasp around him. Your arousal seeps out of you in a steady trickle, a puddle forming on his sheets.

“Shit…” you grunt. “Do I taste that good?”

“You do,” he mumbles, the deep vibrations from his voice causing you to arch your back. “God, I can taste you all day.”

True to his word, he drowns himself with your pussy, paying more attention to your clit as you feel the orgasm slowly spreading through your body.

“Yoongi, wait,” you breathe, tugging at his dark locks so he’d look at you.

And what a sight he is to behold.

The bottom half of his face is wet with your arousal as he smirks up at you with pupils so blown out, they’re almost black.

“I wanna cum with your cock inside of me,” you confess, sitting up to pull him into a deep kiss. “Haven’t you teased me enough today?”

Yoongi hums into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body before pushing you back down to the mattress. “I guess that can be arranged,” he chuckles.

With your help, his slacks and underwear are thrown haphazardly on the floor. His cock stands proudly for you to admire; with a leaking reddish tip and a prominent vein running down one side of the shaft. Unable to help yourself, your hand wraps around his length, causing Yoongi to groan as his eyes flutter shut.

“I thought you wanted my cock?” he teases breathlessly.

“Not before I get a taste,” you counter.

Chuckling, he props his pillows along the headboard before settling back, making it easier for you to crawl over and swallow his length. Intent on keeping eye contact, you make short licks around the head before travelling lower, sucking on the tender skin of his balls before moving back up.

“Oh, fuck—” he grunts, hips jumping up when you wrap your lips around the tender head.

While still staring at him through your lashes, you lower yourself until about halfway, the weeping head knocking against the back of your throat making it hard for you to breathe. You hollow your cheekbones as you exit, earning a lovely, guttural groan from the dark-haired man below. Yoongi places a hand on your head as you continue, pumping him in tandem with the movements of your head as you bob up and down his length.

Your remaining hand digs into the skin of his thigh as you take him deeper down your throat, until you manage to sheathe all of him down to the base. Tears spring in your eyes as you whimper around his length, but despite this, you refuse to stop, not when you spy the satisfied smirk on his face that only aids the desire that’s already strong in your veins.

The grip around your scalp tightens as he attempts to pull you off. “I can’t… I’m going to cum if you keep this up.”

His words only add fuel to the fire and you speed up your ministrations despite Yoongi’s attempts to make you stop. Saliva collects into a wet, messy pool on the sheets as you swallow him into your throat. The tears cascade down your face, yet you can’t help but smirk proudly, especially when his lovely eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs open as he chants your name.

“Fuuuck, I’m going to c-cum—shit!”

You inhale sharply as you push your head down, until his soft curls tickles your nose. A second later, your mouth fills with the salty, bitter taste of cum as Yoongi jerks under your touch, digging his nails into the sheets. You help Yoongi ride out his orgasm with a few pumps of your hand, making sure to collect all the excess without leaving a drop behind. When you’re sure there’s nothing left, you open your mouth to show him your reward before gulping it down with a smile.

With ragged breaths, he watches you swallow with a quirk of his lips; one of the corners pulled up into a half-smirk. “God, that was so fucking hot.”

“It’s your reward for making me feel good this morning,” you wink.

“Are you ready for round 2?” Yoongi asks with a grin.

“I should be asking you that…” But your words trail off when you notice that his dick is still very much hard. “Talk about stamina,” you mumble.

Yoongi chortles as he studies your shell-shocked face. “You look like you’ve never been properly satisfied,” he hums.

“After tonight? I have a feeling that may be the case.”

The two of you burst into laughter before he pulls you closer, kissing you unhurriedly as his hands explore your body to discard your clothes until you lay bare before him.

“You really are gorgeous,” he mumbles as he draws abstract shapes into the small of your back. Catching your eye roll, he chuckles. “I mean it.”

When he sits up to capture your lips, it’s all soft and filled with an emotion you’ve yet to name, and you wished your blood wasn't roaring in your ears because it’s making it incredibly difficult for you to hear what he’s whispering into your skin.

“What were you saying?” you ask when you part. “I think I missed it.”

Yoongi only smiles, but it’s not the brilliant grin that shows the pink of his gums, no, this one is more subdued – delicate – as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Nothing,” he replies, voice low and airy. “I didn’t say anything you don’t already know.”

It’s a strange response, but you really can’t push it further, because in the swirling abyss that exists in the dark pool of his eyes, lies an answer that you’re uncertain you want to know just yet.

Instead, you kiss him again, gliding your lips to get his to open, so your tongues can meet and have the conversation you’re too afraid to voice – for the sake of preserving the moment. You kiss him with ferocity, pushing him back onto the pillows as your hips grind against his hard length.

And when you lower yourself onto his cock, you forget the vow you made, because in this moment, with the moonlight filtering past the sheer curtains in his room, Yoongi is breath-taking. With his soft, dark hair splaying all over the pillows and his slightly swollen lips parted open in a quiet moan; you know you’ve fallen in love. Yoongi’s sincerity is your undoing, ever since the two of you met and sat next to each other when you were interns, and now? As you learn more about him and manage to breach through the quiet exterior? You’re a goner.

And maybe you’re delusional, but you swear, when your lips find his as you begin to move, you can taste the faintest trace of oranges.

Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips with his thrusts. “Please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what for. “Please, Yoongi.”

Despite your lack of instructions, Yoongi seems to know exactly what you need. “I got you,” he murmurs as he holds you before flipping you over, letting your chest rest on the mattress below.

Yoongi kisses your spine as he bottoms out again, making you moan into his pillows as he begins to move. “You’re so tight, shit,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit between your legs.

He keeps a steady pace, rocking you back and forth against the bed as you writhe with every drag of his cock and fingers. The only word that exists in your vocabulary at this moment is his name and without shame, you call out to him in a series of pathetic whines. You need him to know how good you feel, but without the ability to form coherent sentences, this is all you can do.

Though just like before, it doesn’t take him long to decipher your tells and he increases his speed, driving his cock deep into your pussy.

Finally, your tongue seems to want to move again. “Feels good… Yoongi…” you manage.

“Yeah? Me too. God, me too.”

He turns you over again then, so that you’re facing him once more. Yoongi crashes his lips to yours as he begins to thrust in earnest, pushing himself deeper than before. Your vision is filled with stars as you grab hold of his neck, rutting in tandem with his drive. What little hold you have left on your sanity wanes as the pressure builds – release so close that it leaves you gasping.

“Gonna-ah c-cum,” you moan, digging your nails into his back.

“Let go,” he commands, and again, he repeats, “I got you.”

The coil snaps at the sound of his promise. “Yoongi!” you shriek, tumbling down the chasm of pleasure. Your walls tightening around his length triggers a second orgasm from him, and with a groan of your name, he floods your insides with his seed.

“Shit… I didn’t—fuck—you felt so good, that I, uhm,” he stutters. Yoongi’s body shudders with pleasure even as he comes down from his high. With a heaving gasp, he collapses next to you, arms too tired to hold himself back up.

You pull him into an embrace while shushing his mumbled speech. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m on the pill, so don’t worry,” you assure him. “And if you’re worried if I came, didn’t you hear me scream? My throat is so sore now, holy shit.”

The both of you chuckle, the airy sounds mingling together. In the silence that follows, you don’t think about the feelings that surged in the midst of your coupling; refusing to acknowledge that he’s the reason that has your heart running a thousand miles a second. It isn’t just because of the nature of your relationship, but you’re genuinely worried of the possibility of losing a friend… and yet… Yoongi feels so perfect in your arms like this, with his smiling face smushed slightly to your chest. In the singular day since you’ve started this relationship, he’s made a habit of trailing shapes on the small of your back while humming quietly to a song you don’t know.

The soothing action pulls you away from your overbearing thoughts for a second. While planting a kiss into his hair, you ask him, “What’s the name of this song?”

“You like it?” Yoongi nuzzles further into your skin, breathing you in. “It’s my own original piece. It’s called ‘First Love’ and I wrote it about my piano back in my mother’s house.”

In your time together, Yoongi’s never mentioned his family or much of his childhood really, though you never thought to ask about them either.

“Music will forever be my first love,” he hums, dark eyes turning glassy as he recalls the memories. “I remembered slaving so hard over the keys that by the time I managed to master my first classical piece without making any mistakes, it drove me to tears,” Yoongi chuckles. “Ever since then, I practiced like a mad man, every single day after school. Just to play one piece after the next. My mother was mad; not because I was making too much noise, but because my studies suffered a lot.”

Your silence allows him to continue, but not before he peeks at you to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep. When your eyes meet his, the two of you smile, but his is much wider, a perfect showcase displaying his pearly teeth. He rolls over so your head lies on his chest, and his hand moves to trace shapes on your shoulder instead.

“My mother threatened to take the piano away, so I ended up working extra hard, on both music and my grades, but somehow it still wasn’t enough. There’s a time when she came into my room and ripped a bunch of the music sheets that I’ve painstakingly collected,” he sighs sadly, casting a faraway look towards the ceiling.

Your heart bleeds as he recites some of the words to the song. The lyrics personifies music as though it truly was his first love, but one line leaves your heart aching and shattered: Without you, I’m nothing.

It’s the decisive and almost unhealthy, nature of the words that cuts you deep. You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but it sounded like he’s shackled to his muse; needing it solely to live.

However, Yoongi isn’t seeking validation, nor is he looking for you to disagree, so you keep your mouth shut as he continues to talk about his life – about having to work two to three jobs while going through college and once he graduated, unable to find a suitable job in his field that lead him to work with Helion today.

“And that’s when I met you,” he chuckles as he tightens his embrace. “Something about you reminds me of the day I learned Chopin for the first time.”

“Why? Because I make you want to be a better person?” you tease, poking him lightly on the cheek.

Yoongi looks down at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

---

When you wake up the next day, the sun is peeking into the otherwise dark room through the crack in the blackout curtains. The bed next to you is empty, though the lingering warmth from its previous occupant tells you that he left not too long ago. Sure enough, you find a note on the nightstand tucked under the glass of water.

Gone out for bagels. Text me your order.

You’re smiling as you down the glass, reading the swoops of letters repeatedly before reaching for your phone.

You: just a plain bagel with cream cheese. Strong coffee. Please and thank you. Yoongi: yep.

Yep.

That one simple text turns you into a giggling mess as you shove the screen close to your face.

Setting your phone aside, your thoughts are too deeply intertwined with yesterday’s events that you can’t help the burning desire that flows through you once more. You’re satisfied; of course, you are, but the thought of spending another day with him, without having to worry about work for another day, especially with the launch being so soon, has you melting into his sheets.

Your breathing hitches as you close your eyes and lay back on the bed, caressing your own skin like Yoongi did the night before. Your fingers pale in comparison to his, yet you let the memories guide you as you tremble with every drag of touch against your clit.

“Yoongi—” you mumble into the quiet morning air.

You press your face closer to his side of the bed and the familiar scent of his cologne has you careen closer to the edge. The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut desperately into your hand while your mind conjures up an image of Yoongi leaning against the doorway, bagels abandoned in the kitchen while he studies your actions with amusement.

“Jesus, wetting the bed so early in the morning?” He’d tut, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Guess you can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”

“N-No… need you,” you whisper, hips raised from the bed as your fingers work quicker – wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs to make their mark on the sheets below. “Fuck—need you so badly.”

You press your head into the pillow while you crowd your pussy with another finger. It isn’t enough – nothing compares to the sheer girth of his cock and how effectively it stretches you out to make a mess out of you.

Three.

It requires three of your fingers for you to feel full as you replace your hand with the veiny arms belonging to Yoongi in your mind. You imagine him leaning over you with his signature, ever-present smirk on his face as you writhe under his touch. He’d provoke you to be louder, punctuating his words with every drag of his fingers against the patch of nerves in your cunt so that everyone could hear who this pussy belongs to.

It’s sudden – how the forest fire eclipses your whole body that snaps the coil in half. All because your filthy mind conjures up a final image of Yoongi commanding you to let go.

“Shitshitshit—Fuck! Yoongi!” You cum with an embarrassingly broken whine of his name, your fingers plunging deep into your pulsing hole that causes your arousal to squirt on the bed below.

You crash back to the reality of the bed with ragged breaths. The room spins slightly when you open your eyes and you have to blink several times to get the squiggly lines to float away from your vision.

When your breath evens out, you survey the room you’ve neglected in the heat of the moment. You didn’t get a chance to see very much of it last night and with your brain so occupied this morning, this was the perfect time to snoop into your coworker’s life.

Like the vague recollections of his living room, his bedroom is mostly devoid of furniture aside from the bed and the large floor to ceiling bookshelf on the further end of the wall. With nothing else to do, you hop from the bed to take a look at the books, smiling to yourself as you survey the rare photographs in each shelf of a younger Min Yoongi.

As your fingers trail the large tomes of stories, dictionaries, and magazines, you stop when you notice a gap between the end of the shelf and a copy of Don Quixote. Curious, your finger reaches into the gap to produce a small, yellow notebook the size of your palm. The title on the front is illegible, scrawled on by a small child, so you decide to delve through the pages to see what lurks behind.

You chuckle into the book as you read through entries dating as far back as the early 2000s. It’s a collection of poems – written by the one and only Min Yoongi. The earlier pages contain stories of playing outside and ice cream along with brief glimpses of his intelligence as he laments about the fleeting nature of summer.

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he’s continued the tradition as you study the entries, his once messy handwriting morphing into the swoop of cursive you’re familiar with. It’s interesting to see his life in small glimpses: his teenage self agonizes over his future while the Yoongi in his early twenties begin to explore topics of dreams and goals.

You read each sentence carefully in an attempt to retain all the emotions he’s spilled on the page. Who knew that Yoongi has such an artistic mind?

When you reach the more recent entries, you hesitate, wondering if it’s all right for you to read through them. Unfortunately, your curiosity outweighs the small voice of conscience, so you pressed on.

The thought of Yoongi hunched over his bed scribbling into the tiny notebook makes you smile. You imagine the way his shoulders would curve inwardly while he balances the pages on his lap and that devilish tongue of his would wet his lips occasionally as he thinks.

You suppress a groan as your treacherous mind recalls what that tongue did to you the night before.

Shaking the dirty thoughts away, you return your attention to the last entry on the page. Unlike its predecessors, this one is short, containing only a title and a single line. However, the title itself is confusing - a seemingly random mix of consonants and vowels forming a word you know for sure does not exist in the English language. You figure it’s some sort of code, but your sluggish mind refuses to piece together the anagram, still dipped in sleep and the aftereffects of your orgasm. You grab your phone with a sigh, employing trusty, old Google to do its job. When you input the title into the search bar, for once, autocorrect comes to your rescue… but at what cost?

“What?”

Disbelief exists in the knot of your eyebrows until you reread the page in its entirety. Realization kicks in slowly, but when it does, you gasp, throwing the notebook and the device away to the floor as if they burned you.

Because the anagram spells out your full name. This entry was written for you.

And the disquiet in your stomach is due to the emotion so easily evoked by a single line, one that you’re all too familiar with:

Without you, I’m nothing.

---

“I’m back. I got a bunch of bagels because I wasn’t sure which one you liked,” Yoongi calls out as he enters the apartment.

The silence that greets him makes him smile as he assumes that you’re still tired after last night, but when Yoongi walks into the bedroom, your name dies on his lips as he looks on in horror: at the yellow notebook – his yellow notebook – lying face down in front of your feet. Your shell-shocked expression tells him all he needs to know. You’ve read the latest entry.

This all feels like déjà vu; just like the first time he caught you weeping in the copy room. His own bedroom feels foreign to him as he takes a hesitant step inside. Yoongi wants nothing more than to laugh it off as a joke, but he knows you won’t buy the lie.

“Yoongi?”

His attention snaps from the swirling patterns on the carpet to your face. Instead of fear, you seem curious, could he take it as a good sign?

“How much did you read?”

The voice that comes out of his mouth sounds foreign even to his own ears.

Your eyes drift lower then, to the notebook on the floor. “All of it,” you admit in a quiet voice. “I read all of it.”

The room fills with a blanket of tension. With a heavy sigh, you stand and brush past him, heading to the living room.

Yoongi’s eyes trail after you as you sit on the cushions of his couch. With an indescribable smile, you look straight into his eyes.

“Let’s talk.”

---

Despite your invitation, it’s you that sits mum on the couch next to him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I saw it, you know.” Yoongi begins with a humourless smile. “The discomfort you felt was written all over your face when I recited that one line.”

You wait for a bit, holding a space for him to talk should he feel the need to elaborate. “You know, I feel like I do the talking in our relationship, but I’m going to need you to listen to me again, okay?” you say as you mirror his solemn grin. After taking a shuddering breath, you explain, “I don’t want to be the sole reason you live, because without me, you should still be something. I mean, you’re so… you,” you gesture at his figure. “Funny, and kind, and sincere. Someone I can trust and even lean on after all these years.”

His face doesn’t betray his thoughts as he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Yoongi,” you reach out to envelope both his hands into your own. “I love you.”

You can tell he hadn’t expected the confession, but his surprise quickly disappears as he laughs bitterly.

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in this confession?” Yoongi asks sarcastically and his lips twitch into a faint hint of a smile.

“But… I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel like you’re not being true to yourself,” you advice as you squeeze his hands with your own. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you, but I just need you to know that you are your own person first.”

Yoongi nods as he digests your words. When he finally returns his gaze to you, he seems more relaxed, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he squeezes your hands in return. “I think I really needed to hear that.”

“So… what happens now?” you ask meekly, despite being the cause of this whole mess.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks, and when he does, there’s a quiet surge of confidence that you hadn’t heard from him before. “I want to be with you,” Yoongi admits. “But I think I’d also like to take things slow.”

“We can do that,” you grin.

And the following week, it’s you that leaves a tangerine on his desk; a signaling promise for tomorrow.

moon’s notes: ah! don’t we love a semi-ambiguous ending? i didn’t have the heart to end it sadly, so i hope it still makes sense!! thank you so much for reading through this lovely little piece. i appreciate all your love!

“Ok Y/N, calm down, it’s just a batch! It’s fixable!” He raised his hands in front of himself in an attempt to protect himself from your wrath and maybe even pacify you. “You don’t need to get your panties in a twist.” He scoffed you and you prayed to all the cooking Gods there were out there that he stopped talking before you attacked him with the bread mixer.

“I am not getting my panties in any twist Namjoon! You had a job to do!” Pointing your finger at him, you approached him menacingly, your nostrils flaring. “I specifically pointed at the sugar!”

If Namjoon were to admit, he should’ve recognised the tell-tale signs of an argument brewing in between the two of you. However, the need to retaliate and protect what little was left of his pride and cooking skills made him act. “How is it my fault, they look the same! And if you weren’t so anal about these things, you wouldn’t have decided to put them both in the same type of bowl!” Despite his exasperation he didn’t raise his voice, the neutral tone with which he responded to you putting fuel on the fire. Ready to strike back with another comment at how his lack of skills matched his lack of perception you made your way towards him, the spatula still firmly gripped in your hand as you waved it around like a sword.

“This is not Master Chef Y/N, you’re not the best cook out there nor do we need to make this a cooking show! It’s just a stupid class we need to pass!” The hurt that flashed in your eyes at his statement made him pause and his heart clenched, the verbal diarrhoea he was about to unleash completely stuck in his throat.

Namjoon realised he needed to put an end to this before things got out of hand and what was said in between the two of you left your relationship irreparable. What he didn’t realise was that his spatial awareness was as bad as his cooking skills. For the second time in the span of ten minutes you watched horrified as your efforts have been egged with a swipe of the giant man’s hand. Pun intended.

Namjoon knew he’d fucked up the moment his elbow hit the container of eggs. He had a split of a second to determine whether or not he was going to run and hide or face the consequences of his actions. His fate already decided when his feet refused to move, he closed his eyes as your voice pierced through his eardrums. Despite the commotion, there was no big explosion nor was there a significant sound other than the splatter of the eggs. He wasn’t sure if you’d carried on shouting or if the sound of your voice reverberating through his skull was a result of the silence that settled over the both of you, but it only made him more anxious to open his eyes. When a few seconds had passed and he hadn’t been attacked with a spatula he decided it was safe to open his eyes.

“Y/N?” His voice sounded unsure, your hunched up form was a sight he was not expecting to see. “Are- are you ok?” He approached you cautiously, in case you decided to strike with the kitchen utensils at him. The closer he got to you, the clearer it was to him that your quivering form wasn’t a sign of anger. Instead your soft whimpers triggered his instincts immediately. Recognition dawned on his face and his face scrunched up in remorse. What had he done?

“Y/N, I’m sorry I-” He crouched down next to you, his hand hesitatingly reaching out for yours. He did sound apologetic, his face dropping at the sight of your red and blotchy one. In that moment you didn’t care how bad he felt, or how the butterflies you’ve harboured in our stomach reacted to him. You hated him.

“You’ve managed to single-handedly ruin not only my effort and the hours I’ve spent trying to come up with this recipe.” If looks could kill, Namjoon was certain he would be buried under 6 feet of dough by now. “But you’ve also destroyed any chance we may have had at passing this class!” You could feel the frustration and anger bubbling deep in you and before you could stop the words they tumbled out of your mouth so effortlessly it scared you.

“I hate you Kim Namjoon!”

Slowly tiptoeing as gracefully as you could through the rows of seats filled with people, you made your way towards the back of the plane. The shaky feeling in your legs caused by the constant drop of the plane navigating through the clouds was not enough to deter you from reaching your end goal - the back kitchens in first class. Despite the rapid change in time - you still found it very amusing how things worked from one timezone to another, dinner had just begun and you were more than certain that the kitchens would be empty. You could only hope that the turbulence the plane was experiencing was not enough to halt the service. Which would mean the attendants currently busy serving dinner would be forced to return to their stations and you would be carefully guided once more to your seat. You didn’t need to spend the whole flight there, you just wanted a small respite from all the manic people somehow seated next to you.

You knew it was late, yet the promise of food had kept most people awake. You tried your best to ignore the murmurs surrounding you, talking about one thing or another. Instead, you focused on locating the elusive curtain that would take you to your end goal. As soon as you spotted the dark grey curtain a smile stretched across your face. Increasing your pace you ducked underneath. Desperate for some peace and quiet, you did not check whether or not the area was empty before you slumped against the side of the curtain.

It was not the turbulence that disturbed you, but you knew deep down that despite the bravado, you were still human. And the unnatural vibrations under your feet were doing very little to settle your nerves.

“Miss, are you alright?” As soft as the voice that interrupted your thoughts was, you couldn’t help but jolt as it startled you. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Here.” With a soft gentle touch, you were guided on the small seat that you assumed was for a tired flight attendant to have a small break on.

“What–? Oh, I’m so sorry.” You almost jumped up at the sight of the man’s soft features gazing down at you. At his reassurance, a warm hand placed on your shoulder keeping you in place, you smiled awkwardly. “I’m alright, thank you.” You responded to his earlier query with a small smile on your face. When he didn’t respond, his eyes simply raking over your features, as if he was making a quick decision, you felt the awkwardness seep into your bones and you quickly tried to stand up.

“I’m not at my seat, and I’m taking yours, I’m so–“ The timing of the jolt in the aircraft sent you straight into the flight attendant in front of you.

Jimin shifted at the contact of your warm body flush against his, the heat coming off you and your scent completely clouding his thoughts. By reflex, his grip on you tightened in an attempt to keep you upright, your nearly hunched form leaning onto him from the force of the turbulence.

“Oh. I’m sorry!” You tried to school your voice to not sound as breathless as you were. His musky scent took over any form of rational thought you may have had.

“Are you afraid?” He simply asked, his voice holding an undertone that spoke of pure lust. Shuddering at this you slowly glanced up at him, your seated position making it impossible for you to ignore the way his uniform hugged his hips and thighs. At the small shake of your head and response he smiled. “I just needed a distraction.” You explained, voice breathy as if you’d run a marathon. The angelic expression he wore on his face was a complete contrast to what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Do you want to be distracted, Miss?” If you’d blinked you would’ve missed the small inturn of his luscious bottom lip, and the way his teeth grazed it for a split second. But you didn’t, your gaze solely focused on him, his hypnotizing stare luring you in as if the two of you were the only people in the area. The polite address he spoke towards you made you heat up, the slight lull in his accent making it sound as sinful as his looks yet, you wondered how it would sound if the same voice spoke your name.

“It’s Y/N…” you took a quick glance around as you shyly responded, wondering if he would repeat the name or just acknowledge you. To your dismay he just nodded, only to take your breath away once more as his hand lightly touched your cheek, fingertips softly brushing past your jaw making brief contact with your lips.

“Y/N, would you like me to be your distraction?” He smiled his persona giving him the air of pure politeness whilst his voice was as sinful as lust itself.

Whereas before you were conscious of your surroundings, now you could only concentrate on his voice luring you in. With no thought of where you were, or what was going on around you – the turbulence having made sure that most people were seated and not wandering about, you felt yourself nod. You didn’t know what he meant by distraction but the amused glint in his eyes and the way he was biting his lip told you enough to know this was above professional level.

“Could you please say it out loud, Y/N? I would hate it if we were not on the same page.” He leant over you his lips an inch away from your forehead and you couldn’t control the way your eyes closed at the contact, or the way your inhale seemed to follow it sharply.

“Yes, I would like you to be my distraction, Jimin.” You muttered, hoping it would satisfy him. The small prickle under your skin from his voice and warmth increased to a considerable size until it burnt. The soft press of his lips against your forehead made your nose scrunch up. The ghost of his plush softness caressing your skin made your stomach clench. Completely intent on immersing yourself in him you leant forwards only to open your eyes confusedly as you were met with air.

“I would like you to tell me, Y/N, how I can be your distraction.” Jimin stood in all his height above you, his hands clasped in front of him waiting patiently – the picture of complete politeness, the face of customer service which you’ve encountered too many times.

You would have laughed flustered at the situation and explained that maybe you wanted a night time snack, if not for his hooded eyes and soft raise of an eyebrow as he added, “I’m at your service.”

You regarded each other for a moment, unspoken words passing between the two of you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest, the soft thrum of the airplane engine accompanying the sound of the blood rushing to your ears. His small nod was the seal that closed the deal, and your mouth opened ready to spill out your secret desires.

“Take off my pants Jimin, and eat me like you’re starving and I’m the only snack you have available.” You demanded, the thrill of having been put in such a situation making your skin tingle with excitement. You’d never been in such a situation before, so the ease in which you lewdly handed out the command surprised you.

The short moment of silence that followed when nothing happened was enough to make your breath catch in your throat, the air pressure in the cabin suddenly feeling like too much. You had a split second to question yourself before Jimin sprung into action so quickly you barely had time to react. Without a shadow of a doubt on his face he reached to grab your arms. His pull was so strong you stumbled into him, your arms gripping onto his uniform, the rough material feeling like sandpaper under your fingers.

He barely gave you any time to gather your bearings before he placed his lips on yours in a searing kiss – a kiss that left you breathless and wanting more at the same time. His soft lips placed themselves roughly on yours and at the same time his hands took a hold of your top pushing it all the way above your breasts, exposing you to the cold air of the airplane. With a moan you let yourself mould into him, your hands gripping onto his hair, a last futile attempt at keeping yourself together.

Pulling away from your lips with a wet sound, he didn’t waste any time in tracing kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping at the sensitive skin behind your earlobe, mapping his way down towards your chest. Any reasonable thought was long gone under his ministrations. You could barely put your pleasure into coherent sentences, the air between the two of you filled with the sound of your heavy wanton inhales and his small moans. When he reached the dip between your breasts he made quick work of your bra, wasting no time in unclipping it but instead pulling the fabric underneath. The way the material bunched up underneath made your breasts stand out enough for him to murmur in appreciation at his handiwork as he traced your nipple with his finger.

“So perfect.” He whispered and you couldn’t help but tremble, the sheer admiration in his voice making your stomach clench.

Stepping away from you, his hair dishevelled from where your hands took hold of it in an attempt to ground yourself in the midst of your kiss induced high, he motioned towards your pants. Looking down confused, you realised his deft fingers had managed to undo the button and zip – the possibility of him working on them at the same time as he made sure your nipples were lavished in his attention. You bit your lip as you slowly raised your eyes to his, the uncertainty completely erased from your body as you hooked your fingers through your trousers. “Jimin.” You muttered, and he hummed in response, his eyes drinking your full form in. Keeping eye contact with him you made sure you sounded as demanding as your pussy felt when you ordered him.

“Watch me.” Your voice said everything he needed to know – he was not allowed to take his eyes off you. Slowly lowering the piece of clothing to the floor you stepped out of them. Jimin’s swallow was so prominent you could tell by the clench of his jaw the effect you had on him. Observing his form in detail, the way his white shirt with the company’s emblem hugged his slender figure, the white fabric broken up by the presence of the belt – and if the bulge in his trousers was anything to go by you knew he was more than ready to entertain the same thoughts as you.

The complete power you felt when you motioned him to come closer, and he obeyed in an instant, gave you an intense thrill. Watching him take a determined step towards you then stop, hands clenched by his sides made you chuckle under your breath.

“Do you want to distract me now Jimin?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it rang loudly in his ears, travelling all the way to his tightening groin prompting him to take another step towards you. He took a deep breath to get a hold of his thoughts. Even though he was well aware you were still in public, the turbulence being the only reason no one had come your way, he didn’t want to risk rushing you. He enjoyed the tantalising way you were displayed in front of him, arms behind you supporting your weight making your breasts stand out; your now bare legs crossed offering him the slightest glimpse of the prize he was thirsty for.

“I–“ he gulped as you placed a hand on your naked thigh. “Don’t just want to distract you, Y/N.” He was so close to you now you could almost feel the material of his trousers rubbing against your knees, the feeling travelling all the way up to your wet cunt, extracting a small moan from you.

“I want to eat you out until you scream my name for the whole plane to hear.” His eyes were screaming in determination and you couldn’t help but take a staggered breath to stop yourself from falling apart at his words. “I want to make you tremble under me as I use my fingers to fill you up, and I want to make you–“ taking a deep breath as he kneeled down in front of you, his hands hovering above your knees not quite touching you. “–come so hard you won’t be able to remember anything from this flight, but pleasure.”

In anticipation, your skin prickled with goosebumps at his words. When he finally touched you, taking a hold of your knees slowly uncrossing them – splaying your panty clad cunt to his hungry eyes. Observing him watch you so intensely, his tongue peeking out between his lips as if he could already taste you, his eyes flitting between you and your aching core, ripped the next command from you, aimed at him.

“Make me scream, Park Jimin.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, all you could remember of that moment was the feeling of him roughly gripping at your thighs, his head delving in between them and the scream that left your mouth as the tip of his nose made contact with your clothed clit.

His hand travelling up your thigh made you jolt, your back arching pushing you further into him. “Jimin–“ You could barely hold onto the seat, your leg naturally hiking onto his shoulder, offering yourself to him in a lewd display. Jimin smirked as he nuzzled the sensitive nub with his nose, the hot exhale against your lips making your pussy clamp onto air. “Fill me up, please–ngh” The desperation in your voice brought his hand down onto your exposed skin, the sharp sting and the resounding noise of his slap making you writhe.

“Patience, Y/N.” His demeanour changed in an instant– from the man who took commands from you to the man who hungrily thrived off the power he had over your trembling body. The knowledge that you were wet and ready only from his words and from his touch made his dick twitch in his pants, he was done playing by your rules and he needed to make it known. “We will be doing it how I want.” He purred as he lifted his head from your heat, his eyes locked onto yours, a devious smirk lingering on his lips.

When he finally took mercy on you, the raw lust you witnessed in the split second before his fingers hooked onto your panties, told you he meant every word he uttered earlier. He pulled them to the side to dive in with the same aggression, his lips locking onto your naked clit sucking at it with greed. The shock and pleasure at the sudden feeling travelled all the way up your spine until it settled deep into your abdomen – the first steps towards your orgasm. He pulled a yelp from your lips as he gave your clit a break, his tongue picking up, drinking you in as he lapped at your wetness. The pleasure reverberated through you making your calves tense and your toes curl.

“Fuck Jimin, harder.” You pleaded struggling to keep your hips from bucking into him, knowing that you would fall off the seat.

“Hold still.” He ordered, too preoccupied with running his tongue up and down your cunt to spare you more words. His grip on you tightened in an attempt to hold you onto the seat, one hand digging into your flesh the other tracing patterns up towards where his muscle was currently teasing your lips open, a rhythm which you felt deep within your stomach all the way up your back. Clenching, you moaned, desperately needing to reach your release, his tongue making you jolt every time the tip brushed over your clit. Too engulfed into the sensation, you didn’t notice his fingers drawing close to your engorged clit until they roughly pressed on it. The action caused a spark of electricity to run all the way up your spine, eliciting a small scream from you. Aware you were being too loud for how public the space you were in was, your fingers gripped the edge of the seat tighter, feeling your nails dig into the plush material.

“You taste so good.” Jimin murmured as he pulled away, letting his fingers drum on your clit, his eyes enjoying the way you writhed as you bit your lip in an attempt to keep as quiet as possible. “But it’s time to fill you up.” He taunted before his fingers slid between your folds finding your entrance. Aided by your wetness he pushed two into you, all the way up to the knuckles. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you mercilessly, the pads of his fingers reaching deep inside of you, the feeling of finally being filled made your pussy clench, the familiar coil tightening as you rasped out a breath.. You repeated his name over and over again as you panted, too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed at the wet sounds that reached your ears.

“So wet, look at you gripping onto my fingers. Tell me Y/N, can you take one more?” Without waiting for a response he slid a third one; the stretch of his fingers in you, and his thumb angling to press onto your bud was enough to send you over the edge.

“Jimin– I’m– I’m coming.” You whimpered as you closed your eyes, your head falling backwards as your staggered pants barely helped keep you afloat as the searing pleasure exploded behind your eyelids. The electric feeling of your orgasm warmed your muscles up in an intense burn that made you involuntarily tremble from head to toe. Jimin pulled his fingers out as he engulfed you with his mouth, hungry for your taste, drawing out your pleasure for as long as he could. When he felt your trembles subside he slowly pulled away in fear of you being too sensitive.

Coming down from your high, you shuddered at the sudden increase in coldness, Jimin’s heat no longer covering your own half naked body.

“That was indeed a good distraction.” You found yourself mumbling as you hurried to straighten yourself up. The ping of the ‘seatbelts off’ sound told you that you didn’t have enough time to finish what you started. Looking up at the man whose face still sported the aftermath of your thirst, his lips still wet and gleaming with your cum, you felt a wave of lust wash over the disappointment.

Jimin smirked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, helping you up from the seat. “Yes, I would even go as far as to say it was a delicacy.” His words and the image of his tongue peeking out licking his lips of your wetness almost made you disregard any societal proprieties – too sinful to watch, you would’ve let him have you then and there with no qualms about anyone watching you.

“Too bad it was so short.” You shrugged as you made sure you were presentable –a task you hoped would distract you enough from the lust personified lingering near you. “Who knew turbulence could be such a good experience? Shame it’s over.”

Jimin couldn’t hold in his snicker, his eyes taking in the movements of your fingers as they worked towards detangling the flyaways from your bun. Remembering how good they felt as they scratched and marked his skin he bit his lip bending down to whisper in your ear.

“Who said that there isn’t any turbulence on the ground?” His body being so close to your overly sensitive one made you shudder, the hand nestled on your hip sealing a promise he had yet to make. “Once we are back on land I will show you how turbulent I can make your life.”

To say you dreamt about him on most nights would be an understatement. Sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night, having dreamt about those plush lips all over your body, doing things to you that would make anyone sweat. On those nights you would instantly resort to your trusted vibrator, one who’s taken the role of your TA in your head more times than you could count.

That was all in private though. Unfortunately, in public, you carried yourself with disinterest and even snark whenever he would be mentioned. Whenever you’d have a personal encounter with him, you’d all but be icy cold. The reality underneath that coldness was that you felt yourself burn every time he would look you in the eyes, and you struggled to keep yourself from moaning his name out loud whenever he addressed you. You had it bad, and you needed to stop otherwise you wouldn’t graduate at all this year. Not only was he your TA, and you his student technically, but he was also 7 years older than you. There was no way he would have any interest in you as a student - albeit a bright student, but a student, nonetheless. Someone who’d spend most of her days either in class ogling him or in the library, actively trying to stay focused on her OSCEs and not how much she wanted to be bent over the desk with him pounding her from behind.

“Miss Y/N?” You shook yourself out of it, his voice calling out your name making you aware of the awkward situation you found yourself in. Not only were you late to class earlier. By being late you had no other choice but to take a seat in the front row, a row where you not only had a perfect view of his broad back and ass, but also a row where he in turn had the perfect view towards you. You could only hope that the end of the pen you had been chewing was not slobbered all over. Hesitantly you pulled it out of your mouth, your eyes slowly rising to meet Jin’s.

“Ye-yes?” Your voice was hoarse for not having used it in hours and you cleared your throat before you continued. “Did you say something?” You tried your best to school your face into a neutral one, one that didn’t display all your dirty thoughts from earlier, but you knew that the blood rising to your face was a dead giveaway.

“Could you please tell us what the method is for assessing a patient’s mental status?” Jin repeated calmly, leaning against the podium, his hands in his pockets. This position did very little to hide his thighs and other things you would have rather not have thought about. Wrecking your brain for the correct answer, you frowned, until you remembered what you had just read the night before about assessing mental status in the case of non-neurological assessments.

“Uh, the way to conduct an assessment would be to pay attention to a patient’s level of consciousness, orientation and memory.” You declared, smiling proudly at him, your eyes shining with defiance, daring him to carry on asking you. You had this, and no number of good looks from him would bring your grades down.

Jin nodded at you, his calm demeanour not giving away the heated conversation he was having with himself. The smile you were offering him, did nothing to satisfy him. It only spurred him on, and with a smirk he straightened himself up and took a few calculated steps towards your seat, his dark eyes never leaving yours. Drinking in every bit of your features, he didn’t miss the way you gulped at his approach. “Then Miss Y/N,” he all but purred, features still locked into a polite smile. “Would you mind coming here and showing us how the assessment is done?”

Oh fuck.

Hours later and you still buzzed from your earlier encounter, mind blank and going about your day about as robotically as you could have been.

“Come on, Y/N. You smashed that.” Your friend and fellow future neurosurgeon Taehyung prodded you. You’ve been staring at walls since lunchtime. Even when your exam schedule got released you didn’t fret as you usually would have. Now, as you sat in the library and you’d barely touched your textbook, he began to worry.

Would’ve also smashed something else. You thought ruefully, but decided to give your friend the time of the day as you turned your attention towards him. “Yeah.” Feeling intelligent for your response, you deemed it enough to hold him over until later.

Truth of the matter was, you were having an incredibly hard time trying to get over what had happened earlier between Jin and you. The constant small comments that praised you, that is good, excellent, spilling out from his lips as you touched him in front of your peers. That all did nothing to quench the thirst that settled deep inside your stomach. He was more muscular than you gave him credit for, and his slender waist, as you demonstrated how to check for conscious responses, drove you up the wall. It wasn’t just his praises but also the way his dark half lidded gaze settled on every move that you made as your fingers trailed over the expanse of his back, the way he licked his lips when you gripped the back of his head. You could’ve sworn you heard a breathy exhale as you bent down to touch the inside of his knee. All that and your hands trembled like a leaf in the wind, and your panties were probably so wet they almost dropped by themselves.

You’ve done well, Y/N. That was almost your undoing. You were close to dropping on your knees to ask for more but luckily, the fret of students who were eager to go onto their lunch break separated the two of you. Before you left, Jin made sure to give you another praising smile, this time his hand lingering on the inside of your elbow, the tingles of which you could still feel now. And you doubt you’d ever forget his parting words.

You’ve got skillful hands Y/N. I hope you’ll put them to good use.

“Y/N.” Taehyung stared at you deadpan, his pen clicking impatiently on the side of your book. “Could you please focus for a minute?” Your friend was never one for being annoyed, but right now, the tick of his eyebrow and the incessant tap of his foot told you he’s just about had it. With a groan you all but slammed your head onto the table, your forehead coming into contact with the hard surface with a dull thud. If you couldn’t concentrate you would fluke, and you haven’t gone through five years of university to fail right before graduation.

“Ok, right. I’m sorry.” You look at him, your pleading face promising at least one drink of his choice later when you take a much needed break. “Let’s do this again.” Tapping your fingers onto the surface of the table, you push yourself off it with tremendous effort. Truth is, your thoughts were not only muddled by your impossible crush on your TA, but they were also frazzled due to severe lack of sleep and too much caffeine too late in the night.

Even just the thought of the bitter beverage made your mouth water and your brain sing. You decided that a break sounded better than ever. “Hey.” You tapped your friend whose furrowed brows told you he may appreciate a break too, on the shoulder. Taehyung looked up at you, his eyes wide as if you’ve caught him off guard. “I’m getting some bitter life juice.” You nodded your head in the general direction of the exit. “Wanna come?”

Taehyung sprung up as soon as you mentioned, his sudden movement making the chair scrape the carpet, its leg getting caught. Laughing at his enthusiasm you wound your arm around his shoulder, in itself an impossible task as he is taller, as you tease him. “You sure you wanted to study? You’re awfully quick to dump the books.”

“My brain hurts, which is funny considering that I’m making it hurt by reading about itself.” Taehyung grumbles amusedly. “But then again, I guess anytime we self-reflect we give ourselves a headache.” He ends up gesturing philosophically and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your best friend to be a drama queen.

“Whatever you say Freud, whatever you say.” You shook your head at him, the amused smile on your face not dropping until you reached your destination – the shabby but cosy cafe at the bottom of the building. A place where you have spent countless sleepless nights during freshman year nursing a hot cup of dark liquid, unsweetened and with no milk to soothe the bitterness of the taste. Funnily, your coffee addiction started when you started university. Which is not an uncommon thing, most of your peers had developed a taste for the addictive effects of the caffeine buzzing through their veins in the same way as you have. However, you started out with the sweetest milkiest beverage you could find, only to discover that the bitterness of the coffee woke you up more so than the caffeine content in it did. So little by little you transitioned into drinking the darkest beverage you could, its colour only rivalled by the state of your dark circles.

“Plus, you’re buying.” Taehyung winked at you as he opened the doors for you, gesturing to go ahead.

“Ever the gentleman.” You tapped his arm as you passed by, mockingly shaking your head in displeasure. It’s the least you could do for him after having made him go through your daydreaming and firm refusal to study.

Sitting at the counter you tapped your fingers onto your thighs, impatient to get back to your seat and get your head back into the game. You needed to graduate. And Medical Ethics was not going to pass itself.

“Oh Taehyung–” As if the stars aligned, in the worst possible ways, the voice interrupting your trail of thoughts was awfully familiar. Familiar in class, and familiar in your dreams.

“And Y/N.” You turned around quickly enough to catch the surprised look on Jin’s face as if he hadn't expected you to be there. Your smile felt clipped, the muscles in your face refusing to cooperate with you. In fact, your whole body seemed to be going through a myriad of conflicting emotions.

“Teach.” You acknowledged him, your stiff posture not loosening up even after Taehyung nudged you with his elbow. “I mean, Seokjin.” You corrected yourself, just in time, judging by the frown marring Seokjin’s face. You remembered well the hour-long lecture he had at the beginning of the year when he barged in, explaining quite methodically why he shouldn’t be called teacher or professor. His gaze did not falter as he seemed to be weighing his next words, the irritating aura still hanging over you like an unpleasant smell. It may have been just you and the fact that you were hyper aware of his presence, or the fact that you were trying your hardest to show disinterest. But the tension wall that formed between the two of you felt so strong you physically had to remove yourself from being so close within his presence.

“I won’t be your teacher for much longer now, Y/N.” Seokjin’s smile would seem a genuine, friendly smile to anyone else but you. To you, the undertone sounded like a warning laced with promises. Promises that you hoped you were not imagining along with his darkened expression and smouldering eyes.

Taking a step back you glanced nervously at Taehyung, whose scrutinising gaze drank every little detail of your interaction with Seokjin. You knew you’d be interrogated soon, but you would try to put it off for as long as possible. With Taehyung, avoidance rarely worked, he had the oddest of ways of finding anyone. And you mean anyone and everyone. You would stoop as low as to use Seokjin as an excuse to get out of being drilled.

“We were just getting a drink.” You supply helpfully. Though not asked, you hoped that it would help clear the air between the two of you. You weren’t familiar with Seokjin at all but if it helped get you out of trouble with Taehyung, you’d take all the chances you could get.

“Would you like to join us?” Surprised at the invitation that spewed out of your friend’s mouth you let yours drop with a squeak of surprise. The attention back on you, you could feel the flush threatening to burst from under your clothes making its way to your face.

“Ah, yes, would you like to…” You trailed off, your widened eyes locking onto Seokjin’s. A shiver travelled down your spine at the way his eyes seemed to take in every bit of your features in a predatory-like manner. It felt as if he was waiting for you to slip up, stumble, so that he could make a move.

“Y/N is paying!” Taehyung added as if that would sway Seokjin to respond more favourably. Despite the rocks currently residing at the bottom of your stomach, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your best friend and his unhelpful friendly attitude. Now you wouldn’t only have to pay for three drinks, but you may also have to potentially spend time at a table across from the man you’ve been crushing on since you saw him. You only hoped that Taehyung’s presence would stop you from cracking and begging said man to take you over that table.

“I would love to.” After what felt like hours, Seokjin broke the staring contest, his response directed at Taehyung, the small complacent smile back on his face, eyes the shape of a semi crescent moon.

Great.

The flush wasn’t gone even after you reached the counter telling your barista your preferred drinks- for you, an iced americano; Taehyung a vanilla latte, (because he was your resident sugar addict), and– realising you didn’t know Seokjin’s drink, and not wanting to assume, you went to turn around to ask. Only to get slighted as you felt him lean over you to tell the barista his order. This time you couldn’t rely on your flighty best friend who's gone ahead to find you a table.

“A pumpkin spiced latte please.” His voice sounded like smooth chocolate to your ears and judging by the flustered state of the person serving your drinks, Seokjin’s charms weren’t lost on them either. The heat of his body leaning dangerously close over your back felt scalding, and with a squeak you jolted, your elbow painfully making contact with the counter.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything, but the smooth hand that wraps around your throbbing arm and the small downturn of his lips are enough. Gaping at him, certain you look like a fish out of water, you wreck your brain for something to say, but regardless of how much you try you can’t come up with anything that sounds remotely intelligent. All you can focus on is his touch on your arm, the small, gentle brush of his fingers on the inside of your arm is enough to send you into overdrive.

“Here you go.” It sounded underwater but the barista’s voice broke you out of your trance, loud enough to give you an excuse to turn away from him ready to pay. Turning around though, what you realise is that your drinks have been waiting for a while, and what was handed over the counter was a shiny black card and a receipt. Frowning at it, you watched in displeasure how Seokjin calmly took it and placed it in his wallet. Wallet that was not out a second ago.

“I said I would pay.” You huffed at him, the nagging feeling of being indebted to him offering enough courage for you to express emotions like a normal adult would. Or close to. At least you weren’t acting like a sixteen-year-old with a crush anymore.

Amused by the clear irritation in your voice, he had the audacity to shrug. “I think Taehyung said you’d pay. And he’s not here so…” he trailed off leaning closer to you and you felt yourself stiffen. “Whatever he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Paying no heed to your frozen state, Seokjin playfully winked at you as he grabbed two of the drinks on the counter and stepped back, eyes searching for Taehyung’s seated form. Not finding him anywhere he turned back towards you, his head motioning towards the stairs. “I think Taehyung is seated upstairs.” He didn’t wait for a response before making his way up, leaving you half frozen and dazed, your weak knees making you lean onto the counter for support.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered to yourself, your brain playing over and over again the interaction between the two of you.

“What took you so long, slowpoke?” Was Taehyung’s first reaction when you finally managed to make your way up, and you tried your hardest not to sock him in the arm for being so oblivious. Your eyes avoided Seokjin’s elegant form seated next to your best friend. He looked regal in a lot of ways, and definitely stuck out like a sore thumb next to you two. There was a clear distinction between two med students, living off caffeine and cereal to survive with very little interest in how you looked and an established doctor who was also a part time lecturer. Your worlds just didn’t fit.

“Oh shush, not everyone’s at your beck and call Taehyung.” You rolled your eyes at him as you sat down, the cramped space making it difficult for your knees not to touch Seokjin’s. Just your luck, the round table your best friend found was making it difficult to avoid him being in your face. Not wanting to stare at him, you did your best impression of a person interested in the area, as if you hadn’t been there so often it became your second home.

The cafe had always been a quaint place for you. Its cream walls were decorated with various modern art paintings, the fairy lights hanging above them as well as the bookshelves that were stacked with new and old books, and board games–all ready to provide some extra entertainment for the patrons. It’s always been a place where you found solace and peace, but as you felt the slight push of Seokjin’s knee against yours you couldn’t help but think that today may be a bit different.

“Teach– ouch.” Taehyung’s cry of pain brought your attention back to the table. Seeing his slightly red, glossy eyes as he rubbed his underarm area and Seokjin’s fingers imitating a claw at him you can’t help but laugh. It was clear you got preferential treatment earlier, Seokjin being serious about you using the term teacher.

“Who’s ‘Teach’, that’s Seokjin to you.” His voice was serious, but the smile pulling at his lips said otherwise. The light atmosphere made you smile under your breath. You wanted to bank Seokjin’s behaviour from earlier as a distant memory, or a dream that you had the night before, one where you woke up and were already sweaty and wet as if you have orgasmed in the middle of it.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you realised they had been addressing you whilst you were dreaming about dreaming about Seokjin and what you were ready to give to him if he would ask. Embarrassed, you hummed as you took a sip of your drink, your gaze locking onto Jin’s right as your lips wrapped around the straw. In those few moments, you could have sworn you saw his expression darken and the muscle in his jaw tick, as if he was clenching his jaw. But it was gone so quickly it could have easily been a trick of your oversexualised and overstimulated mind.

“You were saying?” You chose to ignore Seokjin, turning your attention back to Taehyung, whose scrutinising gaze told you he noticed more than he let on. You could only hope he’d keep it to himself.

“Holidays, we were talking about autumn holidays.” Taehyung prompted. “Are you going home?”

You shrugged, leaning into your seat. “I have to, it’s tradition and mum would have my…” Trailing off you snuck a glance at Seokjin whose amused expression seemed to have never left your face. “Arse, if I don’t go.” You mumbled flustered at your own choice of words. Taehyung guffaws, his luck is short though, as he snorted whilst taking a sip of his own drink.

You couldn’t help but snicker at his clumsiness, but the loud boisterous laugh that escaped Seokjin sets you off and soon you’re both laughing at your best friend whose indignant face tells you he’s less than amused. A few curses and some used napkins later, Taehyung announced he is going to the bathroom to clean himself up.

With traces of laughter still on your lips you turned towards Seokjin, the awkward situation from earlier completely erased by Taehyung’s silliness. You feel more confident in your ability to speak to him. “What about you Teach– Seokjin?” You quickly correct yourself not wanting to suffer the same wrath your friend had. If you were to get pinched by him, you’d wish it was under different circumstances.

Seokjin pursed his lips, his expression thoughtful for a moment as his fingers rubbed over them. You didn’t know whether he was doing it on purpose or not– what you did know was that once again your eyes were honed in on his mouth, wistfully wishing they would be yours to take.

“I’m not going home for the holidays actually.” He finally took mercy on you, his posture mirroring yours. You didn’t realise that from leaning away from him you’ve quickly leaned in with very little distance to spare between the two of you. “I don’t have enough time to divide myself between houses at the moment, and I've already promised to visit my friend.”

Not wanting to make things awkward once more, you forced yourself to carry on the conversation, partly curious about the personal life of your teacher. It struck you that you hadn’t even considered whether he had a girlfriend, wife? Children?

A bit ashamed of yourself and your insensitivity, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out. “Oh, I see! Girl- friend?” You tried to mask your eagerness with a small cough.

Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh, finding your obvious reactions quite endearing. It almost made him want to react, your childish responses towards him more than gave your crush away. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered– or interested for that matter, but it wasn’t the time or place for that. Instead, he chose to tease you, eager to see you flush once more.

“Why? Interested in the position?” The smirk never left his face and if not for his preposterous assumption– well, almost preposterous, you would’ve found yourself staring dumbfoundedly at him.

With a small cough you shrugged trying to seem as dismissive as possible before you answered. “I thought you may have someone waiting for you at home.” His eyes never left yours, as if he was taking pleasure in your discomfort, as if your embarrassment was giving him satisfaction. And despite the flushed feeling coursing through you, you accepted his challenge.

Enjoying the way you flustered under his gaze, he made sure to not look away as he responded. “I do.” His short response made your heart stop, realising how naive you’ve been to not consider the possibility of him being taken. Eyes slightly wide you opened your mouth to apologise for intruding in his personal life, when he started snickering before he fully threw his head back and laughed out loud.

“Her name’s Suki, she’s a 4-year-old Collie.” Hearing him, you didn’t know whether or not to laugh incredulously at him, continue being mortified, or just sock him in the face.

“You–” Luckily your decision was made for you rather quickly, as mid burst Taehyung chose to strut back in plopping himself back on his chair, his shirt cleaner than before.

“I swear, toilets are the one thing that should be illegal to not have cleaned. What did I miss?” He looked expectantly between you and Seokjin as if you’ve somehow discovered the secrets of the Holy Grail without him – and to you it may have just as well been.

“Nothing, we were still discussing holidays actually.” Seokjin took over, helpfully aiding the conversation without giving too much away. You didn’t know whether to feel flattered that he chose to keep your talk to himself or to carry on feeling embarrassed.

You jumped slightly, the feel of someone’s leg lightly nudging yours taking you by surprise.

“You ok there, Y/N?” Taehyung frowned at you, somewhat worried that the lack of sleep may have gotten to you.

A quick glance towards your right told you that Taehyung was too far away for him to have been the one playing with your leg, and usually he wouldn’t be able to lie for too long, his furrowed eyebrows and serious expression told you he wasn’t the one challenging your ankles. Not daring to glance towards the left, realising it could only be Seokjin, you quickly nodded at your friend reassuring him you were fine.

“Fine, I just hit my knee under the table. Nothing major.” You were quick to dismiss him, not before delivering a counter attack of your own towards Seokjin’s leg, when with the pretense of shifting yourself in your seat, you pressed your foot a bit too far up on the inside of his knee. The sharp inhale would’ve been barely audible if not for your trained ears and you smiled to yourself. Score.

Two could play at this game.

“So Tae, what is your mother making you do this year for the holidays?” You were quick to change the subject, aware that it won’t be long until Seokjin launches an attack of his own, hoping he would. Taehyung’s weakness was his mother’s flamboyant parties, where there would be a big family gathering for Thanksgiving, like any other family, if not for the fact that she would host them anywhere but at home. Last year was a yacht. The previous year was in Egypt. It became a running joke between the two of you now, trying to make guesses of where she would throw them next.

At Seokjin’s confused expression you turned around and explained the situation to him, traces of laughter in the crinkle of your eyes. To say he was staring at you and the lively glint in your eyes was an understatement, he had to force himself to keep breathing. You looked so carefree, so happy it was almost tempting.

Half understanding what you were telling him about Taehyung’s odd family traditions for Thanksgiving, he smiled good-naturedly at your friend.

“I have a feeling Y/N’s Thanksgiving is just as crazy as yours.” You ignored his odd tone, choosing instead to laugh as Taehyung bit the bullet and started complaining about how boring your Thanksgiving was compared to his.

When another attack came from Seokjin’s leg you were half prepared, quick to try to capture his in between yours not realising that would be giving him free reign to try to go further up your leg to attempt to get you to release him. However, when his knee made close contact with the softness of your core you tensed, a jolt of electricity ran through you making your stomach clench.

Stealing a glance at him you jolted slightly when he lowered his leg, the harsh material of his trousers rubbing against your ankles. You were in overdrive, your thoughts scattered about the place and for once you were glad that Taehyung seemed to be leading the conversation taking you out of the limelight. You waited for Seokjin’s next move, not daring to respond in case he hadn’t meant to go that far, but when he nudged you once again with his knee, this time pressing for one second too hard on your already sensitive core you bit your lip to suppress a moan.

Being this close to him made your thought process a jumbled mess, but having him touch you in ways you’ve only dreamed of seemed too much for you to be able to function. You were putty in his hands and you had to admit to yourself. The shame of knowing you were in public, along with the fact that you were very much aware this was not meant to happen between someone like him and someone like you, all this was enough to spur your lust on. The depravity of your actions only fuelled the tight knot that seemed to be building in your stomach and you knew you had to stop him, otherwise you’d surrender to your desires and come right then and there in front of everyone in the cafe – and that included your best friend.

“So– Teach– Seokjin, mentioned he has a dog.” You randomly announced not daring to look at anyone but the strangers around the cafe. Excusing yourself before you announced you should probably get going as you still had to study, you got up, half congratulating yourself for coming up with such an excuse and half cringing at how high and wavery the tone of your voice sounded. Taehyung stopped in the middle of the sentence, his eyes widening in glee. If there was one thing he couldn’t resist it was animals, of any kind. Immediately changing the topic to animals, he engaged Seokjin in a discussion and even as you made your way towards the toilet, your knees shaky, you could still feel the heat of his gaze burning down your back.

You’ve always thought of your attraction to your TA as a crush. Always called it a crush, but in reality, you’ve always known it to be an over-sexualised infatuation. However, sitting across from him, playing footsie under the table, remnants of the burning feeling of where his knee and fingers caressed you earlier, and having discussed more than when the next class was going to be held– you couldn’t help but think that you may be actually crushing on him. You were fucked for lack of a better word, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

======

It all went south when you met him outside of class. It felt like a slap in the face for you to discover he was not only your TA, but also your brother’s best friend. Going home for the holidays was always an exciting time for you. Being away for so long with only a few phone calls made these moments much more special. You were ready for your annual trip during autumn for Thanksgiving. It was the time to spend a good week of it with your parents and brother and it couldn’t have come any sooner. The fact that he was sitting on your parents’ couch, laughing and talking comfortably with your brother confirmedyou were going straight to hell.

“Oh! Y/N! Come over and meet Seokjin! He’s been my best friend since the end of high school.” Your brother waved you over as soon as you entered the front door lugging your bag behind you, all wrapped up in your scarf, nose red from the autumn winds. You probably looked like a mess, you certainly felt like one. Not only was the sight before you unexpected, but to hear the name of the person who had haunted your dreams for so long, come out of your brother’s mouth, was even worse.

“Uhm.” You fretted, undecided whether or not you should let your brother know of your connection with his best friend. When Jin rose from the couch and greeted you with a small smile and a polite nod you decided that he had chosen to ignore the connection you two had at university. You were not sure why, but knowing that he was obviously ignoring you in this manner irked you.

“Sure, hi.” You shrugged dismissively, before you turned around to address your brother. “Jerk, mum told me you ate all the cookies she baked last night!” You slapped his arm lightly to emphasise your annoyance. “Also, what happened to manners? Hello, hi Y/N, nice to see you. I missed you?” Standing there, in the middle of the living room, your brother’s mischievous glare meeting your annoyed expression, it took you a second before you realised what was about to go down. Your face slowly fell as it dawned on you, and you were a second too late to react. Turning around to escape the wrath of your brother you bumped into Jin, whose arms wound around you to support your staggering body.

“Steady.” He smiled warmly at you, and you fought all your senses to not shudder at his tone. Staring at him for a second too long was dangerous, yet you couldn’t stop yourself. Your eyes trailing down from his lashes to his full lips, you let out a staggered breath tempted to bite your own at the thought of his closeness. If you just reached out a bit -

“Gotcha.” It seemed like time had not stopped as you had wished it to, and your brother’s torturous descent would not only topple you over, but it would also make Jin lose his footing. With a strangled yelp the two of you met the floor with as much grace as a bull in a china shop would. Hitting the hard floor was not as impactful as you would have thought it to be, but that may have been only due to Jin’s broad form cushioning half of your body.

It wasn’t the first time you were touching him, the image of your palm against his broad back burnt into your mind. It was the first time that you found yourself lying on top of him, your side flush against his body, your hearts so close together you could feel the counter beat to your main. Or maybe you just suddenly got arrhythmia. You wouldn’t put it past your body to malfunction in this way, already your brain was struggling to catch up with your position and the way Seokjin’s arms wound around your waist keeping you to him.

The loud cackle coming from your brother kicked you into motion. Suddenly remembering that you weren’t alone, you lifted your head up assessing your position.

“Is everything alright?” Your mother walked in just in time to witness the sight of her only daughter sprawled out on top of her son’s much older friend and said son’s howling laughter filling the room. “Honestly, Namjoon, Y/N get up and help me in the kitchen. Your aunt is supposed to get here any minute! And you know she has something to say about everything.” Hands on her hips, foot tapping the ground incessantly, your mother was a force to be reckoned with and Namjoon’s laughter abruptly subsided. Rushing out of the room with a final cackle and a warning to be good he left you and Seokjin to get better acquainted with the floor. Or to get better acquainted on the floor.

To say you were mortified at the position you landed yourself in was an understatement. Your brain was in overdrive trying to figure out how to escape this promiscuous situation, when you felt Jin shift from under you. The sigh of relief he let out followed by the deep chuckles that made his ribcage vibrate under you prompted you to try to move.

“Stay, I’m comfortable.” Seokjin’s voice sounded hazy as if he was ready to fall asleep, but judging by the hold he still had on you, you knew him to be anything but.

“Seokjin.” It was a meek warning, but a warning nonetheless. Your mother and brother were in the kitchen only a few feet away from you, and as of then he was still your teacher – no matter how much you may have wanted this, it was not the time nor the place.

“Jin.” He simply mumbled, his voice trailing off and you couldn’t help but smile, glad that your face was half hidden in his shirt. This offering to use the shortened version of his name felt intimate and you felt like it brought you a step closer to him in a way that you’ve never been before.

“Jin.” You repeated, your voice soft as if testing the feel of his name on your tongue. If you paid attention to him you would’ve noticed how his smile widened but you were too focused on finding a way to get yourself out of the situation without making either of you awkward.

“My leg’s cramping.” You finally settled for the feeling that seemed to have taken over your limbs, the odd angle it got caught in making it tense under your weight. Waiting for Seokjin to let you go, you yelped when with a sigh he tightened his hold on you and pulled you further on top of him. Despite the feeling of pressure being relieved from your leg, your heart rate felt as if it was about to go through the roof and you let out a nervous chuckle, unsure on how to proceed from there on.

“Jin, that is not what I meant. Let me up.” You chided, amused at his childish refusal to let you go. Despite being a grown ass man, seven years your senior, and a teacher at a prestigious university, he was acting like a petulant child, his whine making you laugh.

“It’s…awkward.” You mumbled under your breath, prompting him to laugh once more.

“Don’t think too much Y/N.” The tone of his voice spoke volumes to you but you chose to stay silent waiting for him to carry on. “It’s only as awkward as you make it seem.” He lifted his head up briefly to glance at you. “You’re free to get up at any point.”

His grip on you didn’t falter and with a huff you found yourself not making another move to get up. He was right, it was comfortable, and he was warm and you were tired from your trip. Your aversion to being in his arms overridden by the warmth and comfort he provided you decided that maybe staying there for a bit longer wouldn’t hurt.

“So this is what you meant by a friend inviting you for Thanksgiving? Why didn’t you just tell me?” You didn’t know whether you could breach the subject or not, seeing as he refused to acknowledge you in front of your brother, but your curiosity got the best of you and you couldn’t help but let the words slip out of your mouth. You weren’t as close, but you have had enough interactions by now for you to be compelled to ask him about this. “I thought you were going to spend Thanksgiving with your dog-friend.” You couldn’t help but tease him and he let out a loud laugh, his chest rumbling under your palm.

“I didn’t know until the week before we spoke about it when Namjoon called me. He mentioned you but…” His voice trailed off, and after a few moments of silence you lifted your head to look at him thinking he was already asleep.

Upon closer inspection his distant glossy gaze made you curious about what he may be thinking. He seemed far away, as if he was dreaming of something he was yearning for. Not wanting to intrude, you chose to change the subject, the silence made you feel uncomfortable and his dream bubble made you think you didn’t belong there.

“I’m surprised he did. With the welcome I got from both him and my mother…” You tried to shake your head as much as you could in that position. The displeasure at your receival evident in your voice. “Makes me think if I should've just gotten a dog and stayed with them. The welcome would’ve probably been warmer.” You were half joking, but the way Seokjin shifted from under you, his arms cushioning your body as he lowered you down next to him, told you he took this seriously. You were both lying on your sides now, the joking atmosphere mostly gone, replaced by an air of sombreness.

“Never wish that Y/N.” Seokjin looked at you pointedly, his eyes not glossy anymore, instead a determined glint seemed to have taken its place. “Being alone is not good. It’s soul sucking.”

Surprised at his response, you simply stared at him, eyes drinking in every change in his facial expression. Your mind was running miles per minute, trying to come up with something to say, but always falling short. For a tense second no one said a thing, eyes simply locked, his– unwavering, yours– unsure. The hand that reached out to gently trace the side of your face made you choke out a small gasp, but you didn’t dare to move. He felt safe and warm, and he felt like a solid presence next to you. He used to seem so far away, now he was just there next to you. His thumb gently traced your bottom lip, and for a moment your heart stuttered wondering if he was going to kiss you. The small rustle of clothes as he shifted closer to you made you feel as if the world stopped and all you could see, feel, hear was him. Then as if a spell was broken with the jingle of bells and a flurry fluffy head slotted itself between the two of you, Jin let you go with a small chuckle, his brain already seeming to have caught onto what was going on.

“Suki.” He laughed as the flurry body carried on pushing itself between the two of you.

It took you a second to recognise the name, but the moment you did, you couldn’t hold in your excitement. Propping yourself up on your elbow you took in the Collie that now made its home flushed against you and Jin and was watching the two of you expectantly.

“This is Suki?” Your excited gleam made Jin laugh as he nodded, hand petting the mane that his dog’s fur seemed to resemble.

“Yes, this is Suki, unfortunately she’s an attention seeker. So you may have to put up with this more than once.” He smiled at you, and you did your best to ignore his last statement. That implied that you were going to find yourselves more than just this once in this position. And you didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“Oh but she’s adorable.” You told him, only to turn your attention back to the dog whose snout was prodding you for attention. “Hello beautiful girl.” Your fingers sunk into her fur as you scratched her behind her ears. “You’re so beautiful, and so cute.” You lowered your head, her snout bumping the tip of your nose. “Yes you are, don’t mind this meanie.” You whispered to her conspiratorially, your eyes briefly glancing at Jin, “he’s just a sourpuss. You deserve all the attention in the world.” As if Suki understood you she let out a small bark followed by a whine, as she enjoyed your cuddle, head now buried into you.

If you glanced briefly at Seokjin, you would’ve been able to clearly see the shift in his demeanour, how his gaze softened or how his fingers twitched at his side. Instead you poured all the love and affection you could on the adorable dog, making him slightly jealous of the attention he was missing from you. This was a side of you he had yet to see, and he hoped he’d get to see more in the upcoming days.

======

Despite your best efforts to be as inconspicuous as possible about your somewhat familiar relationship with Seokjin, your brother managed to walk in on the two of you still lying on the floor, with Suki this time in between the two of you. You thanked your lucky stars for her appearance. Not only because she made a wonderful cuddle buddy but also because she offered the protection and distance needed for Namjoon to not suspect anything of what may have happened earlier.

“I’m working my butt off, and you three are just lounging here as if you’re all guests.” Namjoon chided, the raised eyebrow giving him an amused air.

Restraining yourself from flipping him the bird, you tried to disentangle yourself from Suki’s warm body, and from Seokjin’s hand casually placed on yours in between your bodies. You don’t mention that, but you throw him a look, only to have him wink at you in response. It felt thrilling knowing that you were doing something behind your family’s back, but at the same time you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right thing to do for your own sake.

“I’ll have you know Kim, I am a guest.” Seokjin threw his friend a look. “And Suki would not be the best help in the kitchen - I can assure you, I tried and she decided to eat all the meat I had prepared.” You knew Jin was making fun of your brother and you couldn’t help but snicker as you slowly straightened up. Your back twinged slightly and you couldn’t help but wince. The floor may have been comfortable whilst you were concentrating on something else, but now that the distraction was completely gone you felt the after effects of the hardwood floor on your back.

“Need a massage Y/N? Jin’s a doctor, he could help, as a guest.” Namjoon emphasised jokingly, but the suggestion made your chest constrict, remembering the feel of his hands around you felt anything but a joke to you.

“I’m also a guest you ass.” Stuttering a lame excuse about actually going to help your mother you punched your brother in the shoulder as you made your exit. You felt thoroughly embarrassed. Not only were you unable to keep your feelings in check, they also made you act like a teenager; getting flustered and running away from the situation.

As soon as the rest of your family made their way to your house, your uncle giving you his usual bear hugs and your father, his familiar pat on the back, you breathed out easily. Today you might have enough distractions to not have to think about anything but the family gathering. You’d hoped that Seokjin would blend in with the rest of them and finally allow you some respite, unsure how much of him your heart could take.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed like the universe didn’t work that way, and you forgot your aunt’s busybody manner. As soon as she walked through the door and she spotted Seokjin’s form next to yours she smiled mysteriously as if she knew something you didn’t. What you did know was that this meant an embarrassing moment for you.

“Oh Y/N, it’s so good to see you.” She said giving you a hug. “Who is this young man, you never told us you’re dating.” She looked expectantly between you and Seokjin and you felt the flush wash against your skin. Not daring to spare the frozen man next to you a glance, you stuttered.

“He’s–he’s not my boyfriend.” The words felt painful coming out of your mouth, as if someone pulled them out with a wrench. “He’s Namjoon’s friend.” You said pointedly, deciding to stand your ground. If you allowed her more than that she would’ve hounded you for more answers and that was the last thing you needed.

“Oh.” She exclaimed, not in the least bit apologetic. “Well. Nice to meet you, Namjoon’s friend.” She added cheerfully and threw you another look. Seokjin laughed good-naturedly and you had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at him. Of course he would charm every single member of your family. He was Seokjin, there wasn’t a single bone in his body that was not charming.

“Look Aunt, Mother was looking for you.” You pulled her aside as you threw Seokjin another pointed look and guided her towards the kitchen silently apologising to your mother. Your aunt wasn’t only a social nightmare, she was also a cooking one. She was lovely and always tried to help but she wasn’t successful in any of them. And around the kitchen was the last place where your mother would want her own sister. Unfortunately for her, your sake and sanity took priority, and as soon as you steered your aunt into the kitchen and slid the door behind her you sighed in relief.

“Your aunt is lovely.” Jin’s voice behind you made you jolt and you whirled around to face him, hand on your heart to try to keep yourself together.

“Jesus, Jin. You scared me.” Ignoring his intense stare and how easily his name rolled off your tongue, you decided to carry on the conversation as if nothing’s happened. “Yes, she’s a joy. I love her to bits, but she can be extremely overwhelming sometimes.”

“I didn’t mind.” He added, his gaze never leaving yours. You swallowed thickly unsure of what he meant, was he still talking about your aunt or was he talking about what she implied. Feeling your heart rate pick up you chuckled nervously, your fingers pushing your hair behind your ears in nervousness.

“Yes, well– you will, once she starts wanting to know every detail of your life from birth to now.” You smiled at him tight lipped, hoping that he would stop looking at you like that. His gaze was soft, trained on you and it seemed to take in every little detail. But there was also a glint, a spark of something behind his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint, and you didn’t know if your poor heart could take the meaning behind it even if you could.

He was too close, too close for you to breathe without inhaling his scent. Looking up at him, it felt like the world had stopped turning on its axis, and you were the only two people around. It was an unknown feeling to you, something that you’d only imagined was a myth, yet here you were feeling those exact same tumultuous feelings raging deep inside of you where it seemed like the rest of the world was underwater.

Jin didn’t miss a beat, his steps slowly advancing towards you. “I wouldn’t mind sharing.” He laughed silently; your mind was so muddled you kept yourself quiet for fear of saying the wrong thing.

“I also didn’t mind what she said either.” He added quickly as if a second thought, a glint of mischievousness flashing in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, and you opened your mouth to ask him whether he meant your aunt’s prying or what she implied of the two of you. But before you could, Namjoon’s good timing struck you both once more.

“Y/N, Mum needs you–oh….” Feeling embarrassed, you tried to pull away from Jin only to discover that in that one minute conversation he had managed to pin you to the wall.

“Namjoon…s-sure.” Not chancing a glance at either man, you pushed past Jin hurriedly walking back into the kitchen. With your cheeks flaming, you hoped that no one would notice.

======

You kept quiet for most of the evening, helping your mother set the table and arrange the food. The avoidance game you played with Jin was a success as he got caught up in the family’s ruckus. Namjoon kept throwing glances at you, and you knew from the moment he walked in on you and Jin that he suspected something, but you refused to give him the time of the day.

“You know, Y/N.” Your aunt whispered from your side, halfway through the dinner, her eyes trained on you. Leaning towards her, you waited for her to carry on with her thoughts. “I know he’s your brother’s best friend, but he’s a good man, you should snatch him up.” Looking at her confusion painted all over your face, until you noticed she wasn’t looking at you anymore, her eyes were trained on Jin’s unsuspecting form. He was leaning in to talk to your father, both of them laughing as they pointed at the pea dish your mother had made.

“Seokjin?” You asked her, trying your best to keep your panic hidden. Could she tell?

“Mmmmm.” She hummed in agreement, before continuing. “And he’s a doctor too, just like you want to be.” She winked at you before she turned back around to address the table and you gaped at the back of her head incredulously. You resisted the urge to engage her once more, to defend yourself and tell her not only that you have made it to be a doctor, well junior but still, your pride felt chipped; but you also wanted to defend your infatuation with Seokjin, a feeling no one actually knew about, but you felt like you had to.

Excusing yourself from the table, you got up hastily, hoping that no one would notice your swift exit. You loved your family, and Thanksgiving dinner was always a lovely time, however, sometimes it got a bit too much. And judging by the pounding headache and the inability to focus on all the conversions going on around you, you figured it got a bit too much. Before you exited you glanced back once more, checking whether or not someone had spotted you. Namjoon was happy entertaining your aunt who seemed keen on sharing the story about how she finally managed to get the hairdresser’s number. Your mother was happily engaged in a conversation with your grandmother and uncle - something to do with going abroad. And your father was quietly chatting with Seokjin, paying attention to his food. If your father had paid attention, he would’ve noticed that his partner was not really paying him any mind, his eyes were trained on you.

Making eye contact with Jin you smiled tiredly at him before turning around and making your way out of the room and down the corridor that led to your room. You knew they’d question you later on your disappearance, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry about it. You would deal with it later, for the moment all you needed was a brief moment of peace and quiet.

“Y/N.”

Caught up in the middle of the corridor you stared at his shadowy form. The light behind him did a good job at bathing him in just the right amount of shadow for your brain to conjure multiple scenarios just as dark. You almost missed the subtle velvety tone of his voice, almost let his whisper pass you by as just a simple acknowledgement.

You couldn’t move, it felt as if your feet were glued onto the carpet of your childhood home. A corridor you knew all too well, a corridor you spent years running up and down as a child, then years trudging up and down as an angry teen. Now as an adult, you barely walked in your past self’s footsteps. As an adult, right at that moment, two months before graduation, you stood in that corridor watching as the man that plagued your dreams more than once made his way towards you. His slow deliberate movements felt as if he was making sure you were aware of his approach, as if he was making sure you were certain of what he had in mind.

You may not have had a clear picture of his thoughts, but you found yourself more than willing to allow him to show you. Breathing out in anticipation your eyes followed every movement, your heart beating along with the pace of his steps. As he increased speed, so did the organ inside of you, the one you knew was not only responsible for your breathlessness, but also the one responsible for your lightheadedness and weak will.

“Y/N.” This time you heard him loud and clear. Even though the sounds of your family laughing and enjoying their Thanksgiving dinner were loud before, now in the stillness of your corridor, all you could hear, see or smell was him. He smelt like a park in autumn, when the leaves have just fallen down onto the ground creating a perfect rug for your feet to crunch under the soles of your boots. He smelt like pumpkin spiced lattes, sweet, fragrant, a hint of nuttiness and just the right amount of spice. That was Seokjin, sweet but slightly tangy, the various personality traits you had witnessed giving him the depth needed to draw you in.

Your eyes took him in, his dark hair as fluffy as it had always been. As if he’s run his hands through it more than once, the side of his face illuminated by the light coming from the living room showcased his smooth features framed by his angular jaw. His soft wet lips looked plumper than normal as if his teeth had gnawed at them with just as much anticipation as yours were. All these made your heart stop, and your knees feel weak, but as soon as your eyes reached his you felt your world turn upside down at the lustful darkness in them. They glimmered, the lights reflecting in his dark irises, almost predatory

His smooth voice lulled you into closing your eyes, your senses alight. You kept your eyes shut as you heard his footsteps halt, and you could feel the goosebumps onto your skin, the expectation of him reaching out to touch you making you buzz.

You didn’t know whether or not it was because your senses were heightened by the darkness you found yourself in or if it was the wanton lust burning through your veins, but you felt enveloped by him completely. His closeness to you, barely a step away, judging by the heat radiating off of him, felt unbearable. The need to reach out and touch him was an impulse you had to fight strongly against.

You resisted, the small spark of fear that this may not be what you thought, and he was only looking for a respite from the crowd. You didn’t trust your fogged up mind, the adrenaline and endorphins from having so much pumpkin pie and so much turkey may have played a role in the excitement your brain felt at the moment – and so you waited.

It didn’t take long for him to breach the final distance between the two of you, his steps barely audible through the noise of chatter coming from the other room. You didn’t need to hear him to feel his presence enveloping you, overtaking any rational thought as to why this was the wrong move.

You felt the shift in the air around you, his strong presence not giving you time to overthink the situation and from your discussion earlier, you were both aware none of you wanted to back out. Remembering his fingers on the small of your back and how they traced playful patterns to the side of your ribcage all the way up to the swell of your breasts, you shuddered. If there was something you wanted the most from this holiday, it was to allow Kim Seokjin to do whatever he wished with you. So when the weight of his palm wrapped around your wrist, his fingers digging all the way into your soul, you didn’t protest. Your ragged inhale was the only acknowledgment you offered him.

“Keep your eyes closed.” His voice was calm but pointed, and your body instantly responded to it, back ramrod straight as you bit your lip. You wanted to tease him, to fight, the rebel in you ready to oppose his demands, but when his hands finally made contact with your skin you couldn’t help but stand frozen on the spot. His fingers made their way up your arm, the feather touch so light you could barely feel it

“Did I tell you to open your eyes Y/N?” Jin hissed as he pushed you into the wall behind you, the contact with the hard surface enough to make you gasp. He was not as well illuminated as he was before, or your eyes were not used to the dark yet, but the shadows that played around his face bathed him in a dangerous glow, a glow that only served to pull you in.

“You never told me off for calling you teacher.” Your calculated smirk made him grip your hips tighter eliciting a moan from you. Jin’s tight lipped smile promised you pain and the fingers leaving imprints on your ass promised pleasure beyond comparison.

“That is because I liked you calling me teacher.” His voice was but a whisper, but his words echoed in your head, burning themselves into your skin. Closing your eyes as his hands travelled underneath your sweater, his cold fingers feeling like ice on your heated skin, you whimpered as he teased you. The soft touches and the sound of his harsh breaths fanning over your face were sending you into overdrive. You attempted to open your eyes, the desire to look at him, at his dark obsidian eyes and plush lips as they teased you and degraded you was too strong to resist.

“Tell me, Y/N.” His lips found the soft spot under your jaw that made you quiver, but he didn’t touch you. The sensation of his velvet skin so close to yours made you tremble, and you let out a guttural moan in response. “Good.” Seokjin chuckle was dark and low and you felt yourself clench at the sound, if his voice could be a physical object you would associate it with satin bed sheets - silky but the feel of it on your skin could make you come with just one touch. The heat of his breath combined with his words pulled you in and you decided then and there that whatever Kim Seokjin wanted out of you, that is what you would give him.

Jin watched you closely, the way your jagged breaths made the taut skin of your neck stand out, it begged for his teeth to sink into it, to mark it as his. He had been observing you the whole day, the clothes you were wearing as beautiful as they made you look, were an inconvenience to him, and for most of the dinner all he wanted was to rip your jumper off of you, his hands itching to leave their mark on the soft skin of your breasts. Now that he was so close to it, he needed to make sure you were on the same page. He wasn’t oblivious to your stares and the way you reacted to him. Both instances he had tested the waters, you responded and were so compliant at his touch he fought hard with himself to not take you then and there. But he needed your verbal approval before he could make you part of his fantasies.

“Open your eyes.” His voice, a lot softer and sultrier than before, pulled you in and without a second thought you followed his instructions. In the dimness of the corridor you could barely make out his features, his dark shadow looming over you. “Tell me Y/N, how much do you want this?” He lowered his head, his broad form towering over you. The strained sound coming from the back of your throat sounded meek and foreign to your ears and you disliked it. The surge of exasperation that bottled at the bottom of your stomach made you act on impulse, your hand already ready to reach for him. Before you could make contact with his body though, he pulled further away from you eliciting a distraught whimper from you.

“Seokjin, please.” You tried to keep your annoyance at bay, the need to please him greater than your own need to release your pent up frustration at his constant teasing.

“Tsk, I need to hear you say it Y/N.” He said pointedly, taking a determined step towards you, his hand gripping yours in the process to keep you from making contact with his body. “I need to hear you say out loud, how much do you want to touch this?” The slightly raised tone was telling of his own anger shining through, and you couldn’t keep your surge of excitement at bay. The knowledge that you drove him up the wall as much as he did you, gave you a sense of power you never thought you possessed.

With a jerk of your wrist, you tried to free your hand from his grip, but it only served to pull him closer to you, his hold on you firm and unrelenting. “I do want to touch you, and God, I want you to touch me. So much.” You gave in, if all it took for you to finally have him fuck you into the next day was playing by his rules then you would do it without hesitation.

At your words Seokjin felt the switch in him, it was as if the dam broke and all his will to keep this a civil relationship melted away. With an animalistic growl he grabbed your shoulder and pushed you to the wall, pinning your body against his. He didn’t waste a moment attaching his lips to yours, the force of their assault almost knocking the breath out of you.

He was soft, softer than his demeanour, and you found yourself drunk on the feel of his plush lips against yours, almost letting yourself melt into him. His lips felt warm and solid under yours and you fought to release your wrist out of his grip, desperate to hold onto him, to touch him, feel him under your palm.

Breaking the kiss Seokjin all but hissed at you in warning. “Not yet, Y/N.” He reprimanded you before he grabbed you by the nape of your neck, attaching his lips to yours once more. The feel of his knee sliding in between your legs parting them made you gasp in his mouth, the action giving him enough space for his tongue to slide inside. Not wasting a moment in finding yours, he traced patterns against the warmth of your mouth, the action making your knees buckle. Not having anything to hang onto you let yourself fall against him, your throbbing cunt making contact with his thigh, an action reminiscent of the time in the cafe. The pressure was enough to satisfy your increasing arousal, and you found yourself subtly rocking your hips, desperate to feel the familiar increase of pressure as you satisfied your needs.

Seokjin could feel the grinding movement of your mound against his thighs, and with an incredible amount of self restraint he managed to calm his breath enough to not give away the raging hardness that strained against his trousers. There would be time for that. For now, he needed to make sure you were all his before he gave you all of himself.

Lowering his head into the crook of your neck, the tip of his nose nuzzling into the strip of skin he had eyed earlier, the shift between his rough behaviour and the sensual touch of his lips against your collarbones, leaving butterfly kisses burning on your skin, made your heart flutter. He didn’t give you a respite though, as he pressed the leg he slotted between your legs into you harder. A foreshadowing of what he was about to offer you.

“Want me to tell you what I want to do to you?” He growls, his knee pushing harder into you making you buck your hips desperate for the delicious friction on your clit. “Want me to tell you what I want you to do to me?” The promise of being able to conclude this push and pull between the two of you in a pleasurable way, a way in which the both of you could get the satisfaction that you needed,

“Mmm-” You could barely speak, your breath ragged, your attention focused on the electric shocks running down your spine, your pussy clenched achingly trying to grip at something, something to relieve the pressure building up. The harsh push of his knee into your wet core is enough to lift you off the floor, your back supported by the wall. The unexpected pain mixed with pleasure made you yelp and your hands were quick to grip onto his arms, desperate to hold onto something to steady yourself.

“Speak louder.” Jin commanded, his knee grinding on your sensitive core relentlessly. “And you better address me properly.” He added, his weight and knee pinning you against the wall.

Unable to hold in your pleas, you finally relented. “Yes. God yes, please. Seokjin, let me touch you.” You tried to free your wrist once more, his hold on you not as strong.

“Now be a good girl and stand still until I tell you, or I’ll have to restrain you.” His grip on you was unyielding, and you couldn’t help but comply even though all the fibers in your being were screaming for you to disobey him.

Head buried in the crook of your neck, his hands finally let go of your wrists, but you didn’t dare to move, afraid that if you did he’d stop. Peppering kisses along your neck his form caging you against the wall, as you continued to whimper he finally gripped the hem of your sweater. Without a hiccup he peeled it off you, and you were quick to raise your arms to allow him to do so.

Jin didn’t miss a beat as he returned his attention back to the smooth skin, his teeth nipping at every available inch of it. He was determined to make you frustrated, overly sensitive, and overpowered; he wanted you to squirm until you broke. He wanted you to rebel against him, finding pleasure in teasing you.

“Jin, touch me harder please.” Your voice sounded meek, his feathery touches didn’t satisfy your cravings. You needed to feel him, wanted him to rough you up until you couldn’t walk the next day.

“All in good time, doll.” He breathed, his hot breath against your skin making you tremble. His lips carried on whispering kisses and taunting you with their velvety touch. As his hands settled themselves on your hips you almost bucked under his touch, his fingers slowly traced patterns over your trousers, from the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, the pads of his fingers barely grazing your clothed mound.

“Seokjin.” You whimpered as you felt the slow build of your orgasm, it felt so close and yet so far. Getting more and more frustrated, your hands found their home in his hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to get him closer, to touch you harder.

Seokjin smirked, as he bit into your left breast without a warning, eliciting a small yelp from you. He couldn’t see in the dark of the corridor but he was sure that he left a hefty bruise on your flesh.

“Now everyone knows that you are mine.” He growled, however despite this he carried on with his light touches, his fingers now caressing you through your trousers, the action enough to make you pant, your fingers gripping painfully at him.

“Shhh.” He tried to quieten you, knowing that somewhere down the hall your family was having a good time completely unaware of your own blissful but sinful good time. Lowering himself down on his knees, his lips still attached to you, he kissed his way down to your navel, nipping at the skin there, your stomach clenching in response and as his fingers hooked onto your trousers, slowly sliding them off you.

He pulled back, your clothes strewn around him, as he took his time observing what he could in the low light shining from the other room. “Beautiful.” The soft tone of his voice made your heart stutter, the heat underneath your skin increasing to unbearable levels.

“Seokjin, please touch me.” You didn’t care how you looked, the only thing that mattered to you was him, and his hands on you. You needed a release, your skin on fire, your cunt ready to take him in if the wetness of your panties was anything to go by.

Jin smirked at you and in the lightly lit corridor, it looked slightly ominous, impish, as if he had something prepared that you didn’t know about. You heard rather than saw the clink of his belt being undone, and you couldn’t help but tremble as your imagination ran wild with you.

“Close your eyes, love.” He demanded and you found yourself complying even before he got to finish the sentence.

Your senses already heightened from the low light, as soon as you closed your eyes, the anticipation made the air around you buzz with electricity. Your breaths were short and raspy, and your hands were desperately trying to ground you onto something. You couldn’t tell if Seokjin stayed on his knees or got up, but the first sharp sting of the belt on your thigh made you choke, the harsh material proceeded to then collide with the side of your breast. It was hard enough to sting yet, you could feel the pleasurable pinch in your nipples at the sensation.

“Fuck.” You gritted through your teeth as he caressed the inflamed areas with the object that caused them pain.

“You like that don’t you? Dirty girl.” Seokjin mused and trailed off as if he was committing this information to memory.

Without a warning he grabbed your leg tightly and lifted it, leaving you completely open to his view. “So pretty Y/N.” He mumbled, the tip of his nose nuzzling your inner thigh travelling further in towards your clenching pussy.

The gentleness of his words and the soft touches made you blush, not having expected this treatment from him. The closer he got to your centre the more you felt your knees tremble. When he finally made contact you were close to collapsing against the wall if not for his strong grip on your hip holding you in place. “Stay still.” He reprimanded as he hooked a finger through your panties pulling them to the side.

“You know what I am going to do to you Y/N?” He asked and even if you knew he couldn’t see your response you shook your head as you inhaled deeply. Seokjin chuckled, the tip of his finger brushing over your engorged clit making you shudder at the contact. “I am going to touch you slowly..” He pressed on your nub lightly as he continued. “Slowly make you crave my touch more and more.” With a deep inhale he lowered his mouth to your cunt, his tongue tracing the outline of it. “Mmm, delicious as expected.” His words were edging on the feeling of your impending orgasm, and he hadn’t even fucked you. “Then,” he trailed off as his tongue found its way within your folds and you let out a deep moan as he carried on licking you. Pausing for breath, his fingers took over the pad of his thumb rhythmically massaging your clit. “I will make sure that you are stuffed full of my cock, and I will make sure to pound this pussy until you can’t walk anymore.” His voice was deep and guttural, his words not only affecting you but himself as well. As he dove in, his tongue lapping at you as if you were his last meal, his dick jolted in his trousers at the thought of you being wrapped around him milking him as he made you mewl out his name for your family to hear.

You could barely breathe, his words ringing through your head and branding themselves on your skin sending a surge of excitement through you. Your voice repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, hands gripping tightly at the wall you felt the hot searing feeling of your orgasm washing over you. “Seokjin, fuck!”

Deciding he’s teased you enough, he let go of you, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips. He straightened himself, his body providing you with support, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. “Are you ready for me doll?” His dick now freed from its confines teased at your entrance, the slickness making it easy for him to slide in. You both moaned in unison as your tight walls embraced him. He didn’t move, relishing in the feeling, his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands lazily soothing the sting from the harsh lines he inflicted with his belt earlier.

“You good?” He managed to gasp, as he withdrew slightly.

Pulling out of you almost entirely, the tip of his dick teasing your entrance, you almost screamed at the loss of contact. “Don’t” You whimpered, your hands finding their way into his hair, gripping as if your life depended on it. You hooked a leg around his hips in a desperate attempt to bring him closer to you. Seeing it as a green light he didn’t waste a moment, he slammed back into you. Letting out a deep moan, you let yourself go, head thrown back as your whole body vibrated with pleasure.

“You’re moaning so loud everyone can hear you.” He pointed out as his hips thrust harder into you, the sound of your skin slapping together echoing through the corridor drowned out by your aunt’s boisterous laugh. The knowledge of Seokjin roughly fucking his dick into your wanton pussy as your family was just meters down the corridor made you quiver, and despite the dirtiness of your action, you found yourself more and more aroused, the coil in your stomach tightening once more.

Feeling your muscles contract harder around him, Jin smirked. “Look how much you want this, your family could walk out of that room and stumble across us at any time, and you're drinking me in, thirsty for my dick.” His animalistic growl only served to spur you on as you clung onto him, the leg hooked around him bringing him in closer.

The feel of him stretching you out, his hands bruising your thighs as he pounded into you relentlessly paired with the sensitivity of your earlier orgasm made it easy for your senses to go into overdrive. With no warning, as he slammed himself into you, you felt the familiar clench of your cunt around him as you came for a second time.

“Good girl, you’re so sensitive.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over your skin before he bit down once more making you almost howl out. He was doing his best to drag out your orgasm as he stilled, his cock nestled in you enjoying the feel of your contracting around him. His fingers easily found the swollen clit and as soon as he touched you, your hips bucked violently. “I’m not going to let you stop anytime soon Y/N.” His words spurred you on and you smirked as you clenched around him making him hiss.

“Naughty girl. Alright, if this is how you want to play.” His voice sounded like a warning and before you could react he pinned you to the wall, his fingers digging deep into your flesh, his dick buried deep inside of you as he pounded relentlessly into you. The sounds of your ragged breathing intermixing with the sounds of your skin slapping together and your whimpers as he chased after his own release resounded through the corridor. You didn’t know how long you had been at it or if the dinner had finished and you found it hard to care. The only thought that consumed you was Seokjin and his deep thrusts, his soft moans echoing in your ear as he came, his cum spilling deep inside of you.

As he had promised he had managed to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and as he slowed down you took the moment to steady your own ragged breathing. The soft deep chuckle that escaped through his lips hit the side of your neck making you shiver.

“Let's see how dirty you can be.” He took a step back from you, allowing your trembling leg to touch the floor once more. Your thoroughly fucked form almost slid down the wall, your knees too weak to support you. The sight of him in all his glory, still clothed except for his trousers spurred you on, and without a second thought you pulled him by the hooks towards you, your hand wrapping around his member without a second thought. Palming him for a second, enjoying the slickness of the both of you left on his dick you took a deep breath in as you slid him inside your mouth.

Without missing a beat you swirl your tongue around his member, his ragged breaths spurring you on. You bobbed your head taking in as much as you could of him before wrapping your hand around the base of his dick and gently massaging the area where your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Ahhh, you’re taking me in so well baby.” Jin praised you, and you felt the warmth of pride swelling up in your chest. You liked pleasing him, you wanted to please him.

With a few long licks to the underside of his dick and a few pumps of your hand you made sure he was clean before letting him go. Staring up at him, your hair a tangled mess and your lips swollen and red glistening with your saliva and both of your juices you smiled at him.

Jin glanced down at you, your thoroughly fucked look, and the small smile you gave him, were enough for him, and with a careful grip he pulled you in to him giving you a long hard kiss.

“Let’s move this to your bedroom, shall we? I’m not done yet.”

======

When you woke up, your mind in a blissful daze, the orgasms even though a memory they were still coursing through you; you didn’t dare open your eyes. Stretching out languidly, you let out a small moan as your hand made contact with the pillow Seokjin used previously. The heat and smell were still lingering in the air along with the smell of sex and you made a mental note to open the window. Cracking an eye open, your brows furrowed, trying to adjust to the brightness in your room, you looked around.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t sting, the lack of a second body in your bed or even your room. But you should have expected that, he was your brother’s best friend and somewhat still (but not really) your teacher. You had sex; it may have been mind-blowing, the thought of you being submissive under his touch caused you to let out a guttural moan, but what you have done was entirely forbidden. Or close to it anyway.

Gathering your wits, you formulated a plan of avoidance in your head. Surely, the day after Thanksgiving was a day where everyone slept in or laid around the house in hopes of digesting the earlier feast. You could use this opportunity to grab a quick much needed caffeine fix and go on a long walk with your own hopes of digesting what had transpired the night before.

Walking down the corridor, everything basked in silence, the echoes of the laughter from last night bouncing around your eardrums mixing with the sounds of your moans as you let yourself go under Jin’s skillful hands made you realise that once again, this corridor marked a change in your life. For better or for worse you had yet to decide. But as you entered the kitchen and met eyes with your brother you faltered. He was slumped against the counter, nursing a cup of coffee in his hands, and his look of disapproval told you he knew. You didn’t know how you knew that but he was your brother, you grew up together, you both knew each other like the back of your hand. You trusted him with your life. And when he shook his head at you and sighed, already having come to terms with your actions, and greeted you – you trusted him. But then break your heart.

“He’s left. And he’s not going to be invited back.”

======

The hustle and bustle of a hospital in the early morning was something that you had grown to love over the past two years. Sure, it was not always such fun and games. Most times the fuss around you did not mean anything to be joyful of. Most of the time it meant that people were under pressure, stressed to get their work done and help lives that waited to be saved. But you were in the thick of it, and you were doing the best you could. Studying for hours on end at university, late nights and too many coffees managed to get you here. That was something you were proud of, and walking in early mornings knowing that you belonged there - there was no better feeling in the world.

It had been a journey. Junior doctors were not the highest regarded people; in the beginning the only allies you made were a few of the nurses. None of the doctors were keen on the new starters, nor were they kind when giving you evening and emergency shifts. But you managed through it all. Now two years in, you felt like you finally belonged.

“Good morning Y/N, you have your list in the break room.” Rhia, a good friend of yours greeted you as soon as you rushed into the lobby. All dressed and ready to go, you hurriedly tried to slide your lanyard around your neck one handedly.

“‘Mornin’ Rhi!” You smiled at her in thanks before carrying on down the corridor towards the break room where you knew a long list of duties awaited you next to a steaming coffee. You were grateful for Rhia. Since you’d arrived, she was the first one to make you feel welcome; greeting you each morning and having lunchtime chats whenever lunchtime didn’t consist of a hurried bite to stave off hunger.

You hurriedly rushed around trying to get your caffeine fix, your eyes skimming over the schedule you had for the day and the patients that were first to be seen. Humming to yourself you saw a name that made you smile, Jia, the fourteen year old girl who managed to single handedly make you wish you had children to dote on. She suffered from epileptic crisis every now and then. Despite the medication, she seemed to still have some violent episodes from time to time. You noted she was the third one on your list that day as she was to be discharged before noon, and you made it a point to visit her first, the album you stashed into your purse to gift her this morning couldn’t wait.

Sighing you honed in on the first task of the day, the dreaded morning changeover meeting. Luckily this was routine and because of it no one was awake enough to feel the need to speak. The night shift people would normally doze off in their chairs and the morning takeover would be too preoccupied with the thought of spending the next twelve or so hours in the same environment. Only the head of your department would speak, giving you a brief handover of what had happened the previous night. And so with the flashy album hidden in your scrubs and the steaming cup of coffee in your hand, you hastily made your way to the meeting praying the day would be over even before it had begun.

=======

“For now, we will have a change, since the rotational changes have already been set, we will be welcoming a few new specialists.” The head nurse announced, and you glanced up from your coffee interested in the turn of events. You were not told this was going to happen, and if what she was saying was right, it affected you as much as it affected everyone else. Unless the Neurology department had been completely overlooked.

“Y/N, you’re still on the night shift tonight right?” Rhia whispered to you and you glanced at her nodding in acknowledgment.

“Yes, I'm on a long one today.” You sighed, you never enjoyed long shifts, but they felt satisfying when you clocked out for the day knowing that you’ve given your best for a whole day - that or the idea that you would be going home and sleeping for the next day. Regardless, you had no choice, you were scheduled for long shifts at least once a week, some weeks you would have to brave two or three long shifts with less time off between them. It was what being a junior doctor meant and you had to take it. It really depended on what your supervisor required of you. Until now you’ve been somewhat lucky that you only had doctors who required your assistance less than others and so even if you were on shift, you had time to rest in between patient visits before jumping in once more.

“Oh, that means you will get to meet the new neurosurgeon assigned to the ward!” Rhia’s excitement made you smile, she was always a happy person. No matter how long her hours may have been, she never failed to grace everyone with a smile and a kind word. Her attitude was what kept you going during those long hours and you were more than grateful towards her.

Shrugging with indifference you couldn’t help but return her smile. “I guess, it’s not like there will be a massive change for any of us really. I am still waiting for the day we stop getting a middle aged, pompous, self important man walking in to start ordering us around; dumping all his responsibilities on us the little people.” Despite your chuckle your voice sounded bitter and Rhia offered you a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You never know, this may be a good change.”

======

When afternoon rolled in you were more than ready to pass out in a chair in the breakroom. The patients that were left for the day were not difficult cases, however, they were a large number and a lot of them needed discharge papers to be filled in. You also hadn't had the chance to see off Jia, a different junior discharged her as you were called to see an emergency. As the night shift doctor, you had the pleasure of going around doing the last checks for the day making note of whoever needed to be given the discharge papers the next morning. Rhia had left earlier, but not before ensuring to remind you of the new addition to the team that was supposed to be arriving for the late night that day.

“Please make sure to tell me everything!” She gushed as she put her coat over her day to day clothes, her scrubs stashed neatly in her locker. You looked at her longingly, wishing you could be doing the same, but the clock on the wall definitely told you you were not even halfway through your shift.

“Rhia, I have other things to do than think about the new doctor. I may be so busy that I won't get a chance to interact at all with them. Besides, if any of the departments share animosity, it's the general Neurology Recovery ward and the Neurosurgery one.” You gave her a pointed look when she seemed to want to rebuff you. “Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. No matter what, there always seems to be a problem.” You sighed as you got up and gave her one last parting hug. “Doesn’t matter, I will see you sometime tomorrow hopefully I am still standing on my feet. Tell Taehyung I said hi.” You mumbled suddenly hit with a pang of sadness as you thought about your best friend.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, the two of you were separated as you moved departments during your specialty training. For a while you weren’t even in the same city, and after months of not having any contact but phone calls you started feeling his absence. No more late night movies, no more late night snacks and definitely no more talks about stupid instances you both witnessed in hospital. Until one night when he excitedly called you to tell you he was moving to the city where you were based. You immediately offered him a place to crash until he found his own. He politely refused you and you were prepared to feel the separation of a longstanding friendship, but then he told you that he had already sorted it out and that he had someone he wanted to introduce to you - he was proudly dating and he wanted you to meet her. The look of surprise on your face when it turned out to be your only friend within the hospital was so priceless that even now Taehyung wouldn’t let you live it down. Him and Rhia had not only been dating for a while now, but they’ve also been planning to live together. The happiness that overtook you when he told you the news had been only slightly overshadowed by memories of the past, memories that you weren’t too keen on digging out.

“Will do. Take care of yourself and don’t stress out too much today.” She patted your back one last time before she exited the click of the door signalling you’ve been left alone in the room. Sighing to yourself, you knew you couldn’t stall for longer. As you turned around ready to exit after Rhia, the door opened to reveal a familiar figure that had always managed to stop you dead in your tracks.

“And these are the lockers- oh, Y/N.” The head nurse stopped a second away before crashing into you. You paid her no mind though, your eyes fixed on the person following close behind her

“Seo-Seokjin.” You muttered, your heart in your throat. You felt yourself freeze on spot, the waves of anxiety washing over you like a cold shower. You would’ve never thought you’d get to see him again, and you were certain that even now, he was not real and just a figment of your imagination. He looked too surreal to be there, standing behind the head nurse staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Miss. Y/N. Would you mind stepping aside?” The head nurse, an elderly lady whom you’ve barely spoken to, asked in a clipped tone. Breaking out of your trance you felt yourself move, unsure of whether it was your own subconscious that urged your body to do so or the head nurse herself.

You wanted him to acknowledge you, to say something. But as he passed by your frozen form, all you could feel was the chill of the air between the two of you.

======

The sound of your pager going off interrupted your trail of thought, and you couldn’t have been happier. You got stuck once more thinking about the past. To your dismay, you’d seemed to do that more and more recently. You couldn’t tell if it was because of Seokjin’s reappearance in your life or if it was because lately you seemed to have been called on more and more night shifts, and the lack of sleep was getting to you. Regardless of the reason, your emotional state was at an all time high and the more time passed the more you struggled to function without having thought of the past at least once.

Taking a glance at the pager you flew out of your seat and rushed out of the break room. No one spared you a glance- they all heard the pager and like Pavlov’s dog, you were all conditioned to assume that being paged meant an emergency.

The rush and adrenaline you felt every time you got paged would mostly be overshadowed by thoughts of what could have possibly gone wrong. Everyone knew where everyone was and so when you were on a break you wouldn’t have to worry too much about being called in unless it was an emergency.

Without minding the people brushing past you as you forced your legs towards the ER department wondering whether or not you could get there faster if you cut through the main corridor. Deciding against it, you swiftly swiped your card onto the door almost bumping into the nurses turning the corner. Apologising you carried on towards the nurses station.

“What are we looking at?” You asked as you rushed towards the desk, your hand ready to be handed the file. The elder nurse didn’t question your rush, already knowing what you were looking for and without a second thought she handed you the documents.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” She added empathetically however, you were too stuck on adrenaline to notice the pitiful look she was throwing your way. Hastily opening the document you felt yourself freeze midstep, dread filling your gut. At the top of the page where the patient’s name was cleanly typed out, stood the one name you wished had never ended up in your hands outside of a routine checkup.

“What is Jia’s–?” You couldn’t form the words, the rush of the blood to your head making your ears roar.

“She had a relapse.” The simple information was enough to make your stomach clench as if someone had decided to grip it with all their strength and twist it. “She’s stable now but she may need to be restrained.” The words felt like a bucket of ice fallen on top of your head. The CD that you still had packed in your pocket felt heavy. Thumbing with the edge of the chart you bit your lip.

“I’ll go see her.” You nodded determined to get to your patient. You were paged for a reason after all. Even though this may be the one instance when you wish you weren’t a doctor to begin with.

“You’re needed.” The nurse nodded in acknowledgement and you bolted towards the room specified in the file not waiting for her to say anything more.

Approaching the glass doors, you could clearly see the form of the girl sitting in bed, eyes closed and attached to machines and you felt the tears gather in your eyes at the sight. The hand in your pocket gripped at the hard material of the CD and you could feel how raw your lips were becoming from having been bitten with force. She looked tired as she smiled weakly at one of the nurses fretting around her bed and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped at the sight.

“What are you doing here?” A voice that you would’ve remembered even in your sleep spoke from behind you. Not turning around, sensing the chill once again in between the two of you, you only shrugged helplessly.

“She’s my patient.” You simply supplied doing your best to keep your attention on the frail girl now lying on the bed fast asleep. “I had to come and see her.”

“She’s not your concern anymore. She’s in need of treatment, not care.” Jin’s voice sounded like an order and you couldn’t help the anger rising in you at his words. Swiftly turning around on your heels you narrowed your eyes at him.

“She’s my patient.” You emphasised, trying to not let yourself get affected by his relaxed stance. He looked intimidating, a reminiscent air of his teaching persona lingering like an unpleasant smell.

“Regardless, she is way beyond your knowledge now, Y/N.” Jin straightened up, his height adding to the weight of his words. Feeling small and weak you allowed yourself to take a step back, your eyes flitting towards the unconscious girl once again.

“What does knowledge have to do with feelings, Seokjin?” You whispered as you gave him one more desperate look, turning around on your heels and hurriedly making your escape. You couldn’t tell what hurt the most. The CD in your pocket burnt a whole in your mind; a reminder of the girl who needed you or the gaze of the man who held your feelings; a reminder of the past that haunted you.

======

You were torn, as the almost argument you had with Jin chipped at you. He was right, there wasn’t anything that you could do. It was way beyond your power and knowledge. Ignorantly trying to offer her comfort wouldn’t solve any of her troubles and you knew that. Groaning you let yourself slump into your seat, a headache already forming behind your eyes. Wrecking your brain for solutions for the past couple of hours didn’t do you any good – you weren’t any closer to an answer.

“But what can you do, there aren’t any good enough approved treatments for such a thing at the moment.” Su, one of the Neurologists passed by dropping her used coffee cup in the sink. You felt a nagging at the back of your head, as if there was an old memory there waiting to be jogged. What was–?

“ElectroTherapy!” You yelled out of the blue, remembering you read a few cases recently of successful treatments.

“A- what?” one of your fellow juniors asked you, completely baffled at your outburst.

Idea fresh in your mind, and without hesitation, you ran towards the Neurology department.

Not sparing anyone a glance as you rushed towards the consultation room that you knew all too well to belong to someone you had managed to avoid until then. Unfortunately given the circumstances, you needed him and you were ready to look past any unfortunate previous encounters if it only meant that your long term patient had a chance at a normal life outside of the hospital.

“Jin.” You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that if you gave yourself time to overthink this, you’d crack under pressure and turn back around on your heels. The man in question sat at his desk, his eyes locked onto his computer before he glanced at you, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Doctor.” He simply reminded you, the calm tone of his voice making you feel more chastised than if he’d actually told you off for being too familiar with him.

“Doctor.” You stressed out, already feeling the end of your patience tested out. Reminding yourself of where you were and what you needed, you decided to put your uncertainty aside. “I need your help.”

Jin, whose eyes only spared you a brief glance when you came through the door, stopped and turned to glance at you, an eyebrow raised. “With?”

“I need to bring up the possibility of having ECT for Jia’s treatment.” Your rushed unfiltered words were met with complete silence and you stopped abruptly, shifting on the balls of your feet.

“It’s not something you should be discussing with me.” Jin simply responded after a few gruesome seconds of having stared at you.

“I’m only a junior doctor! Not even a specialist!” You countered tasting the aggravation behind your words.

“You can’t hide behind your junior status for much longer Y/N. What will you do when you become a doctor - a specialist, and you have to go through something similar? Who will you fall back onto?” Seokjin pointed out, and the weight of his words hit you like a freight train. Eyes widened, you felt the harsh reality wash over you. You stared at him, unable to argue, once again proving his point. You were mostly talk and no bite, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I am not a specialist yet, and I do require your support in this!” You argued, your voice softer than you’d intended. “I can’t stand in front of the whole board and present this! Who would even listen to me?” You sounded desperate and you were aware of the pathetic display you presented. But you needed his support and back up.

“Find me the evidence, and then we can talk.” His impassive tone almost made you shift again on the balls of your feet, but you reminded yourself you needed to stay strong in your resolve. If you couldn’t stand his scrutiny, how would you be able to stand the boards’?

“Fine.” You conceded, ignoring the voice at the back of your mind telling you that Seokjin wasn’t the board. He was the man that had haunted your dreams and thoughts for years. And he hadn’t presented you with a straight up refusal.

======

It took you a couple of gruesome days, the knowledge that time was crucial pressing on you to look for the appropriate resources to present to the board. You knew you couldn’t push the meeting date even if you wanted to, so you did your best to gather as much information as you could. When you weren’t with patients you would spend every waking moment compiling a list of papers that discussed the treatment.

You knew you were treading on thin ice and you needed to be careful. It was not only a dangerous procedure, but you needed to make sure that the success rate was enough to be worth the risk.

“Y/N, please take a break, you look as bad as the next student about to take an exam.” Rhia walked in the breakroom, which over the past few days had become your office. It was not the first time she walked in to see you pouring over the stacks of papers, your open laptop at your side. It was a bittersweet memory, being a student, and you found yourself almost getting lost in the thought.

“Thanks.” You could only mumble when the liquidy coffee was set on your table, your friend tutting at your zombie like state.

“Seriously, if you don’t take it easy I will have to tell someone, and I am sure that Seokjin won’t take the news nicely.” She teased.

These were the days when you wished her and Taehyung were not dating. Ever since telling Taehyung the news of Seokjin being the newly hired neurosurgeon, all you would hear is teasing and retelling of memories from your time as students. He was keen on coming to visit, if only to sing his high praises to Seokjin once more. You were glad you missed out the part where you slept with him right after your exams, you were sure Taehyung would have fainted on the spot at the news.

“Rhia, this is serious. It’s not a mock patient, it's an actual patient that needs treatment. And this,” you pointed at the stash of studies scattered around you. "Might be her last chance.”

Rhia regarded you somberly, she knew how much you cared about your patients and how much you wanted this to go well. With a determined nod she took your laptop away from you and sat down completely ignoring your disapproving looks.

“Tell me what you need me to look at.” She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back, the weight on your shoulders seemingly less heavy than it was a moment ago. Nodding your thanks you explained in detail what you needed.

Knowing that you had her support and help did alleviate some of your worries, however, when the time came for you to present the case in front of everyone, you knew it would be just you and the sharks. And you needed to stand on your own. Seokjin was right, you couldn’t hide behind the status of being a junior doctor anymore, you needed to stand up for yourself.

======

You were confident in your findings, the written script for your presentation tightly stashed underneath your arm as you made your way towards the meeting, your self assured walk doing little to calm your nerves.

“You’ll be ok.” Taehyung’s voice coming through the other side of the receiver made you stop briefly in the middle of the corridor.

“I hope so.” You couldn’t help but sigh, your shoulders dropping low out of sheer exhaustion and added stress. “What if I blow it though?” You voiced your thoughts, knowing that if there was ever someone who could calm your nerves within a heartbeat that would be Taehyung.

“Y/N you offered to beat up a group of three boys at least five years older than us back in preschool just because they called my hair funny.” Taehyung reminded you, traces of laughter present in his voice. “There is no way you can’t do this now.” You couldn’t help but smile in fondness at the memory. He was right, you’ve always been one to try and tackle bigger things, and this time it may be your biggest yet.

“You’re right.” Feeling a bit more confident, you stood up straighter, your feet picking up pace once more.

“Smash it, Tiger. And after, Rhia and I will take you out for a good ol’ celebration.” Taehyung laughed as you made a sound of disgust.

“No thanks, I'll just celebrate on my own.” You countered a small smile on your face. Coming up to the white door of the meeting room your steps slowed to a halt. “I need to go. Tae…” You sniffed, the emotions coursing through you making you wish that you had him next to you for comfort. “Thank you.” But Jin was right – you needed to do this on your own.

Putting your phone back into your pocket, you glanced at the door once more before taking a deep breath in hands hovering above the handle.

The unexpected appearance of a second hand settling above your own made you jump, your body tense. You didn’t need to glance behind to figure out whose hand it belonged to. The warmth seeping through you felt familiar, a warmth you’d felt only a few times, but was already engraved in your nerves’ memory.

“What are you doing?” You hissed trying to pull your hand away from underneath his. The silence in the corridor was a strange feeling to you, never having experienced a time when there wasn’t an emergency situation that forced everyone to scuttle around the grounds of the hospital. You didn’t want to turn around to look at Jin, but when he said nothing in response you couldn’t help but shuffle in an attempt to look at him.

The coldness of his actions towards you completely contrasted the warmth of his gaze. A warmth that reflected the one currently settled over your own hand. You may have looked like a deer caught in headlights which prompted him to offer you a last ounce of familiar comfort yet, his gaze spoke of more than reassurance. It spoke of trust.

For a brief second, you felt your heart stutter in your chest. You knew he wouldn’t say anything to you directly, but this comfortable silence spoke volumes. With a small nod of your head you softly inhaled– an attempt to get your heartbeat back on its track.

Not waiting for another signal, Jin’s hand pushed on yours, the handle giving way under both of your weights, and the door opened. The murmurs in the room stopped at the sound, and you briefly took in the faces lined up. Big names that you’d only heard whispered in the corridors, and portraits displayed along with their achievements. All this was enough to get you into motion. These people had the power to decide. It was time to do this. For Jia and all the music she wanted to have a chance to listen to.

=======

As you finished, it felt as if the room came back into focus. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, your eyes focused clearly once more on the faces around you. Breath abate, your gaze flickered between the sombre faces, waiting for a sign – anything that could give away the outcome of your hard work.

“Thank you for the enlightening presentation Miss Y/N. We will now consider your proposition. The favour looks to be on your side and the treatment shall go ahead.” The director leaned in, his glasses glinting in the artificial lights shining above you. “Unless–“ he glanced around the room. “Someone has something else to add.”

You didn’t know what to expect, but it was certainly not Seokjin’s hurried upheaval from his chair, hands on the tabletop.

“I think this is dangerous. There is a reason why it’s still not approved here. Ethically–“ he started and you felt your heart crumble in your chest. You never thought that one day you would stand against the man that shaped your past in more ways than once. It stung to know that he would so readily stand up against you, even after you’ve pleaded your case. Narrowing your eyes at him, you let out a quiet exhale. But you would rather fight him in favour of the treatment, if it meant that Jia got a chance at being happy.

“We will take that into consideration as well, Dr. Kim.” An older board member smiled pacifyingly at him signalling for Jin to sit back down. “Sometimes you have to accept that the good outweighs the bad.” He gave Jin a knowing smile before settling his attention onto you.

“And whether or not the good is worth it.”

======

“Seokjin.” Your voice was more demanding than a junior doctor’s should have been towards a senior, but the disappointment you witnessed in his eyes as the board voted made you feel meek. You should’ve been happy for your win –your hard work had paid off. Yet, it only took one look from him to make you feel insignificant and that was a feeling you couldn’t stand. “Why?” Stopping in the middle of the corridor you hugged your midriff, as if you were attempting to protect yourself from the negative feelings washing over you with such force it made you feel breathless.

At the tone of your voice Seokjin stopped abruptly and spun around on his heels to face you. You’d won your case, yet he hadn’t seen you look so defeated before. The shy, almost reticent look you were throwing at him made his heart clench. He knew he was harsh earlier but he expected better from you. He wanted you to stand your ground on your own, you were strong.He knew that– but did you? Sighing he made his way back towards you, the words already making their way past his defences.

“I expect my junior doctors to hold their case, argue passionately for it, then stay on my side.” He looked at you impassively, yet his words told you it was anything but. His voice was loud and clear, and it sounded clipped to your ears. You briefly glanced at the people milling around the corridor, paying you no heed. It wasn’t something uncommon to see two doctors arguing in the corridor about one thing or another, and the thought made you horrified.

“Even when you’re wrong?” You looked back at him, your eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge.

Seokjin regarded you for a moment, as if he was contemplating whether or not you were worth the response. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The finality in his voice made you falter in your step, as he carried on walking down the corridor. The sight of him leaving you behind made your heart clench. Paired with being chastised by him earlier in the meeting, your confidence dwindled down to almost nothing.

But you had to remember you were not a student anymore. You were not naive and you certainly wouldn’t allow him to walk all over you as he did before. He may have not cared about you, but you still did, and you wouldn’t let him treat you in such a manner. Running after him, determined to give him a piece of your mind, you grabbed his hand as soon as you reached him. Not thinking about the consequences, you pulled him into the nearest storage room you spied. Ignoring all protest from the older man, you turned on the light and closed the door behind you, not wanting to continue the conversation out in the open. It was your turn to speak out and his to listen.

“Y/N, what in the– what do you think anyone would say if they noticed this; a junior doctor and a doctor stashed away in a–a storage room?” Seokjin gestured at the stacks of clinical robes and dressings, along with some cleaning products surrounding you.

“Seokjin.” You warned him, voice clipped and lips pursed. He was going too far, and regardless of your status there was no need for him to step on you the way he just did. You did your best to ignore the pang of hurt that still echoed through you at his words from earlier. Being called incompetent by a doctor was nothing new, you’ve experienced this more than once. Being called incompetent by a doctor that you not only admired, but also thought you could trust, and in the middle of a board meeting- it stung. And you were not ready to face that.

“Why can you not trust me on this?” You carried on, pacing back and forth in the storeroom with the limited amount of space giving you little room to do so without brushing shoulders with him. “I proved that it may be a useful treatment!” You pointed at the papers still in your hand, hours of your free time poured into the research until you’ve finally compiled a case good enough to present to the board. You were proud of yourself, you managed to do in a week what most researchers have months of time to do. All because you wanted this patient to get better. All because you wanted her to be healthy and happy with her family.

“Y/N.” Seokjin’s voice was dark, deep, as if he was warning you to not overstep your boundaries. But you wouldn’t listen, not now. Not when someone’s well being was on the line.

“Don’t Y/N me, Seokjin.” You stopped abruptly, your eyes finding his. He looked dangerous, his intense gaze fixed on you, not blinking once and you found your heart faltering at the sight of him. He looked handsome, and you were almost transported back to the time that you had two years ago. “There are chances in this treatment! And we could do it easily! We are trained for this!” You carried on, refusing to let your feelings cloud your judgement. “She could have a chance at a good family life, if only you’d see past your old ways - how could you not want her to get better?” Your argument started out strong, your voice firm and decisive, but the realisation that he almost had this treatment scraped and the patient sent to a ward, you lost all fight. The helplessness that overtook you felt humiliating - you won the case, they allowed the treatment, but the knowledge that you couldn’t count on the one person you’d thought would have your back hurt. The hazy vision of his face and the sting of tears that threatened to escape made you finally break the intense stare game between the two of you. With a sigh you turned around to preserve the last bits of pride you had left.

“I have years of experience with these cases Y/N.” Seokjin finally spoke up, his calm demeanour only serving to aggravate you more. “This was not a safe route, and not a route you want to be taking in case anything goes wrong with the patient.” You felt the fire in you pick up intensity but you chose to stay silent allowing him to finish what he wanted to say.

“What would you say to the family if this went wrong and she has the treatment and she ends up paralysed for life?” He questioned and you finally turned around with your eyes narrowed. Taking a step closer towards him you pointed at the papers in your hands.

“The chances of that happening are lower than twenty percent Seokjin, that is a hell lot less than the chances of her not recovering if we don’t do something about it. What would you say to her family then? Would you tell them that she only has months left because you refused to try something that could save her life?” You hadn’t noticed how close you were getting to him, your need to prove your point overriding any other thought.

You may have not heeded the nearness between the two of you, but Jin did, and something in your fiery attitude towards him made it hard for him to resist the urge to grab you by the nape of your neck and kiss you senseless. You looked beautiful, in the white light shining from above you in the store room, your eyes gleaming with passion, passion for a job that he knew you would be damn good at, if only you’d just listen to him once in a while.

“Y/N, what you presented us with is an experimental treatment here, it hasn’t been approved yet, and if the patient does not consent to be part of the research, there is nothing we can do. Have you also thought of that? What about her best interests? She has the capacity to make decisions, and so if she decides she doesn’t want to go through with this, we have no choice but to listen.” He added, his argument making you falter. He was right, the patient could say no to this, and this was not a definite treatment, this would be research.

“But it could save her life!” You burst out, throwing your hands up in aggravation. “And you didn’t see her Seokjin, you-you didn't see…” You paused, your breath ragged as you remembered the previous day, when she decided she didn’t want to be intubated anymore, the burst of tears and the panic in her eyes when she realised that there was a chance she would not get better. It haunted you, it haunted you the night before, it haunted you now. And it certainly was the driving force for your presentation in the meeting earlier. You promised yourself you would not disappoint her and you would not let her down.

“You didn’t see the pain she was going through. She wants to get better.” You whispered, feeling drained all of a sudden. “Why are you running away from this?” You looked up at him, the moments of silence that followed your question felt like years. You probably shouldn’t have phrased it as such, your mind instantly going from the situation at hand to the past two years. Two years in which you had asked yourself the same question over and over again. Why did he leave?

His expression was unreadable and you tried to not think too much of it for the sake of your shattered heart. “Why are you not taking this chance?” You cleared your throat, hoping that he couldn’t read the hurt behind your words.

“I am not a coward Y/N.” Jin finally relented, his voice slightly softer than before and you looked up at him. He was not looking at you anymore, just like that time you spent on the floor in your childhood home, he seemed distant. “I know what I am doing, I have had years of doing this. And sometimes it’s better to play it safe than be sorry.”

His words pierced through you with the speed of a freight train and you couldn’t help but think he also had stopped thinking about the patient. Without thinking you hastily responded, grabbing this opportunity as your only chance to get answers from him. “Sometimes, it’s better to chance it, in case you do end up being sorry for not doing so.” You wanted to sound harsher than you did, but something in you broke and you felt a hot trail of tears finally making their way down your cheeks.

Seokjin didn’t dare face you, the pain he could hear in your voice was enough to make his own heart constrict, but he knew he couldn’t break his resolve. He couldn’t give away his reasons for keeping you at a distance after that night. He owed his friend that much, and he couldn’t risk it, now that both your jobs were also on the line. He just couldn’t-

“Sometimes it’s worth it.” You tried to play your last card, the desperation in your voice reaching levels that made him turn around to look at you.

He couldn’t help himself and with one one big breath in, he took the plunge and took that one last step towards you, breaching the barrier he set for himself. Grabbing you by the back of your neck he pulled you in, your yelp of surprise giving him free reign to press his lips to yours. He silently apologised to his friend as he brought you in closer, your form moulding along with his as the other hand wrapped around your waist bringing you flush against his body.

The intensity of the kiss left you breathless, his soft lips were pressed so tightly against yours you felt the bruising already, the blood rushing to your face. This situation felt so familiar yet so distant. You had been here before, but the feelings that the both of you were conveying in this one kiss were unfamiliar. It felt more intimate than before, as if the two of you have grown closer in the past few years you hadn’t spoken. To you, the searing kiss transposed the hidden affection the both of you had been harbouring for each other for so long. For those few moments that your body completed his, you allowed yourself to forget the hurt that kept you closed off for so long.

Seokjin felt it, the shift in the atmosphere between the two of you. Your body relaxing and your lips against his returning his attention fervently allowed him to grip you as close as possible to him. His hands travelled down your body, committing every piece of you to memory in such a gentle way you couldn’t help but groan in pleasure.

Despite his earlier indifference, an act which hurt you beyond belief, you found yourself giving in to the familiar feel of him. The palms of his hands caressing you the way he was made every inch of you burn with arousal, so when you felt his cold hands underneath the top of your scrubs reaching into your trousers you allowed him.

Hastily undoing his zip, you didn’t waste a second in palming his clothed dick, the hitch in his breath making you smile. He may have led in the boardroom and the bedroom but now it was your time to show him who would be taking the lead. Not wasting time you dropped to your knees and quickly pulled down his underwear. As soon as his member sprung free you sucked him straight into your mouth, not giving him any room to complain.

Seokjin fought down a growl, the wetness of your mouth and the tightness of your hollowed cheeks swallowing him were enough to make his hips buck. Moaning out your name, he fought the urge to grab you by the hair and push himself deeper into your mouth. He would let you do it on your own terms, he wanted you to do it on your own terms.

You moaned at the taste of him and something struck a familiar chord within you. The memory of the last night you spent together fresh in your mind. Not thinking about anything but the feel of him in your mouth you gripped the base of his dick as you dragged your tongue along his length making sure to cover every inch of him in your saliva.

“Mmmm, Y/N.” Seokjin tried to be quiet, the thought of being in a storage room at work with his dick firmly lodged in your mouth and the door unlocked made him shiver. He couldn’t help himself. There was something dirty yet familiar about the situation, and with a jerk of his hips, he thrust himself further inside your mouth.

Moaning in displeasure at the sudden movement you gripped the base of his cock tighter, a warning that he was not allowed to move, this time it was your turn to do whatever you wanted.

The tight grip you had on him made him pause with a sharp inhale, he knew that he was treading on thin waters. “Y/N.” He softly pleaded. He would have found it amusing how the tables have turned if not for the small smirk you threw his way. The sight of you smirking up at him on your knees, hair disheveled from his hands, his cock at the mercy of your palm had him quiver. That was a sight he wanted to commit to memory, certain that it would stay engraved for a long time.

The chilly air of the storage room did nothing to deter the pure hot pleasure you got in knowing that Seokjin was at your mercy now. The adrenaline still pumping through your veins from having stood in the middle of the meeting arguing your case, combined with the heated conversation you and Jin had just shared were enough to spur you on. Pursing your lips you delivered a soft kiss to the top of his dick, your tongue barely peeking out gently teasing the tip.

“It’s my turn to make you squirm for me Kim Seokjin.” Your hand pumped him a few times for validation of your words, earning you a deep guttural moan coming straight from deep within.

Not being able to withstand the teasing any longer he bent down unexpectedly, his dick sliding out of your mouth yet still gripped firmly in your hands. The cold chill made him shiver.

“Enough, Y/N.” He growled at you pulling you up until your lips were once more connected together. The hands that gripped your shoulders a second earlier slowly made their way into your trousers, and he immediately found you clit.

“You’re already wet and ready. Does being this dominant make you hot Y/N?” Jin pushed his hand further into your scrubs, the loose material allowing him to do so easily. You couldn’t help but squirm as his fingers slid back and forth in between your folds, not paying particular attention to any spot.

“Jin please.” You all but pleaded. You knew you didn’t have time to have sex, and the chance of you getting caught in here was high. Hastily, your hand picked back up the rhythm as you used the slickness of your saliva as lubricant. You made sure to keep your grip steady as you paid particular attention to the head of his dick.

“It’s ok, Y/N. I’ll take care of you now.” Despite the clouded thoughts provoked by your hand paying attention to his cock, his finger never ceased their movement against your clit. The wide lazy circles kept you on the edge of an orgasm, edging you on yet it wasn’t nearly enough to bring you to its apex. You tangled your fingers in his hair, gripping at it burying your nose in his neck in an attempt to keep yourself grounded as he suddenly picked up his pace.

The silence outside of your own little bubble was not lost on you as you tried your best to muffle your moans, his name escaping through your lips at the same pace of his fingers drumming on your clit. Without warning, he changed tactics as his finger smoothly slipped through your folds, stretching you out.

“Fuck, Jin.” You lightly squeezed his dick in response, your hand increasing the speed. You couldn’t see the satisfied smile that took over his face, but you felt his response – a second finger following the first one, the scissoring motion reaching the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“That’s it, Y/N. Let it go.” He coaxed you, as he felt your hips bucking harder into his hand. It took all the concentration in him to focus on your need to come rather than on your hand on his hard dick, the motion of your fist pumping him making him feel dazed. “Should we come together?”

“Jin– I’m close.” You felt it, the white hot searing pleasure coursing through you, the fingers tangled in his hair pulling at his roots bringing him closer to you. “I’m going to–“ Not able to finish your trail of thoughts as his thumb angled to press hard on your clit. The combination of his two fingers pumping in you coated in your slickness, and the feel of your nub being pressed in such a way were quick to let your orgasm course through you, as you let go your teeth bite into his neck in an attempt to keep your moans at bay.

Through the hazy warmth of your orgasm taking over your brain, you pulled his lips to yours as the hand palming his dick increased speed once more, only stopping to pay attention to the head. He moaned into your mouth, his own impending orgasm washing over him as he let go all over your hand.

You broke the kiss as the familiar cathartic feeling after an orgasm took over you, you tried to get your thoughts back together.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You sounded breathless and you tried with all your might to ignore the feeling of his hand still slotted in the hem of your pants caressing the skin.

Jin tried to step away from you, his better judgement telling him it was the wrong move to make. Yet your hand still wrapped around his member, the sticky wet feeling of his cum over himself and you, was making it difficult for him to agree with you. He didn’t allow you to pull away from him, his lips a breadth away from yours.

“Have dinner with me.” He proposed even though every cell in his body could count the reasons why it would be the wrong move.

You could have laughed. There you were, in a storage room with the man who left you for nothing. The man who refused to contact you during those two years, the man whose dick you still held in your hand. He was there, with you, his hand caressing you as if he would a lover, his lips having bruised yours just seconds before. He was there and he’d just asked you out to dinner. In the midst of it all, however, you found yourself unable to express the amusement that passed like a fleeting thought through your head. All you found yourself doing was readily agreeing to meet him the following night for dinner.

As you felt him step away from you, finally freeing you from his hold, his presence no longer stifling your thoughts - you couldn’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake. No matter what had transpired between the two of you during this period of time, you couldn’t deny that the intensity of your feelings for him haven’t changed.

======

You were a ball of nerves before the meeting, but that was nothing compared to this. Very much aware that it was the first time you and Jin were meeting up like this, planned and not accidental, made you as ecstatic as it unnerved you. Dinner was a whole new step between the two of you, and you were more than anxious to see where it would take you – if it took you anywhere.

The sight of his apartment complex, tall and unmoving, was only warmed up by the lights coming from the windows, a sign that people were in and enjoying their nights off. You knew you certainly appreciated having the evening off after a few gruesome weeks of work and research. Choosing to spend it like this was arguably not the most relaxing way you could have spent it, however you were just as hopeful about it as you were jittery.

Ringing the doorbell felt like a mammoth task to you, having taken the stairs up to Jin’s apartment gave you time to gather yourself together yet you could still feel the clamminess of your hands.

“Y/N, please come in.” Jin opened the door and you gaped at the vision of him. Standing tall and proud in a black shirt, hair off his forehead and sporting a pair of black rimmed glasses– he was looking incredibly handsome.

“Jin.” You finally managed to utter a greeting before you pointed at his glasses. “You’re wearing glasses? Since when?” You brushed past him as you entered, allowing yourself to cringe at the tone of your voice. The ball of nervousness in your stomach made you feel awkward, but Jin’s friendly and open smile as he took your coat did wonders in settling the butterflies in your stomach.

“Despite popular belief, my eyesight is not as good as it could be.” He shrugged nonchalantly, placing a hand on the small of your back guiding you in the right direction of his kitchen.

“Shock horror. As a neurosurgeon? Preposterous.” You couldn’t help but tease as you took in the kitchen covered in warm tones of brown and deep green. His apartment was not the biggest he could probably afford, but the knick knacks littered around the space made it feel homely. The smell of food wafted through the air and the still sizzling pans was nice background noise, comforting and welcoming.

“That smells amazing, what are you cooking?” You went to take a sneak peek at the stove, before warm hands settled themselves on your shoulder stopping you gently.

“No peeking, Y/N, it’s a surprise. Now please sit down.” He smiled warmly at you, and you couldn’t help the array of butterflies that made themselves known in your stomach. He looked so homey and warm that you were tempted to launch yourself into his embrace. This domestic scene felt so surreal to you that you were afraid if you blinked it may be gone in a split second.

You realised you were staring when the sound of something popping on the stove made you almost jump out of your skin. Jin was the first to break eye contact as he loudly cursed and rushed to fix the situation.

“Shit, I'm sorry! I promise I am actually a decent cook!” He hurriedly tied an apron around his waist as his back was turned towards you. His hands were preoccupied and despite the potential risk of the food having burnt or worse the apartment having caught on fire you found yourself smiling fondly at him. His broad back, the apron tied tightly around his waist paired with the black shirt and trousers he wore screamed at you to touch him.

So you did.

“Y/N what–?” He exclaimed, almost dropping the utensil in his hand.

“Jin–“ you started, the thoughts and worries plaguing your mind making it too hard to ignore. “Will it– be ok?” The uncertainty in your voice rang loud and clear throughout the apartment. Even though you weren’t going to bring up any of these sensible subjects, they have been weighing on your mind. You didn’t want to carry on as if nothing happened - you couldn’t. There were too many factors that dictated the direction in which this could go, and you didn’t want to be left behind without an explanation again. Not when you would be seeing him around you constantly whilst at work.

“I- We can only hope.” Jin didn’t hesitate to answer you, your tone of voice was enough to tell him this conversation needed to happen sooner rather than later. But he couldn't help but find himself short for words.

“Why are you trying to be brave?” You mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

With a sigh, he put down everything and turned around forcing you to let him go. “I am not brave Y/N, I am being realistic.” Jin weakly smiled at you as he gently grabbed your hand and led you towards the barstool. “I do believe this will work, and despite my initial reticence, I do think you made a good argument for it earlier.” With a gentle caress of your wrist he let your hand drop as he sat himself down, his posture looking so defeated your heart hurt for him.

“Were you also being realistic after Thanksgiving?” You weren’t planning to steer the conversation in the direction of the past, yet the words tumbled out of your mouth. Jin’s sharp intake of breath made you hold yours, and for the second time, that night you felt your heart ready to beat out of your chest.

“I–“ he sighed, a frustrated pained expression falling over his face. Running a hand through his hair repeatedly, he leaned against the counter. “I promised Namjoon that I wouldn’t interfere.” His eyes finding yours he immediately went to add. “And I wasn’t!” Noticing your crestfallen face he corrected himself once again. “No– that is not what I meant.” His voice trailed off and despite the tumultuous feelings coursing through you, you reached out a hand for comfort.

“What did you mean then?” You softly inquired, not wanting to jump to any conclusions before he made himself clear.

“I– I was going to allow you to get through all of this.” He motioned around in an attempt to get you to understand what he meant. At your confused expression he sighed. “This, school, being a junior, finding your passion. I wanted you to go through all this without having to be tied down.” He explained and realisation dawned on you.

“Jin–“ you started but he continued, wanting to get his feelings out as quickly as possible.

“You don’t know how hard it is to make everything work when you have a job like this.” His gaze glossed over as if he was thinking of the past. “I wanted you to have a choice.”

“Why would you not allow me to have the options then?” You countered, the sympathy in your heart overruled by the anger at having lost so much time. “Why take away my options? How can I choose?” He fell silent and you deemed it appropriate to continue. “If it was my freedom of choice, how dare you take it away from me? Had you allowed me to, I know what I would have chosen a long time ago.” You softened your tone. You lost time, but there was no point in making it worse now.

Jin couldn’t reply to you, knowing that you were right, he took away that choice and because of that the both of you lost valuable time. “But Namjoon-” He tried to reason, his resolve weak. His friend may have been disappointed in him, but he was not your keeper either. He should have discussed all this with you instead of allowing external factors to interfere between the two of you.

Your gaze softened at his demeanour. “Is a grown up, and so are we.” You supplied without hesitation. You were suddenly overcome with a strong urge to touch him once again, your hands reaching out for his wrist pulling him up with you. “If you believe in me, then believe in us and our ability to make this work.” Looking up at him you barely had time to react as his head bent down allowing his lips to capture yours. His lips were soft as they moved along with yours, they pulled you in and stole your breath. The kiss was unlike any other you’ve had until then - this was a kiss that spoke of promises and feelings, not a kiss in the heat of the moment.

As you broke away from the kiss, nestled safely in his embrace, you took your time enjoying the feeling. His scent, his words and his being made you feel protected and for a split second you allowed yourself to lean on him with everything you had.

“It will all be alright.” You heard him whisper into your hair and you nodded unconvincingly. You could only hope.

======

You didn’t know where you and Jin were headed in your relationship, if you could even call it that. What you did know was that the uncertainty radiating through you at the moment was only fuelled by the knowledge that in a couple of hours you’d be sitting gazing through the surgery theatre whilst he administered treatment that you pushed for.

“Are you ready for today? It’s so exciting! Your case pushed through barriers!” It wasn’t the first time people assumed you were overly ecstatic about what was about to come. You’ve gone from congratulatory claps on the back to hugs to people telling you how important your win against the board was. How many cases would have a chance of being cured because of you.

You couldn’t have cared less.

You were happy, of course you were. A long standing patient would be getting the chance to live a good life. How could you not be happy?

The downside that kept grinding at your insides was entirely related to the man getting himself ready to perform said treatment. Jin’s unsure smile in your direction as he entered the lockers made your heart clench. All you wanted to do at that moment was run to him and hug him. Lend him the strength that he needed. Wistfully you gazed at the door that separated you from the man you cared for knowing that your job was done the moment you walked out of that meeting. You have fallen back again on seniority, Jin was right.

“Come on Y/N, time to go.” Rhia gently pushed you in the direction of the stairs, guiding you outside of the corridor. “We can’t be here and we also won’t get to see anything. And you’ve wanted to witness this since Jia got readmitted.” She reminded you and you absentmindedly nodded, helplessly throwing another look at the tightly shut door.

Feet heavy you dragged yourself towards the upper floors of the theatre where the viewing window would be. You felt breathless, as if you’ve run miles for hours on end, yet all you’ve done was pace the floors of the hospital, wringing your hands with anxiousness as thoughts about the procedure plagued your mind. You knew that if you were in such a state, Jin must be in a worse one. He’s a professional. You tried to remind yourself of this over and over again, but the slight uncertainty you noticed in his eyes when you brought up the subject over the course of the dinner made you doubt his confidence. He was a professional, a goddamn good neurosurgeon, but this was not a routine procedure – this was something he’d be trying for the first time.

“Actually–“ you stopped pulling your arm out of Rhia’s hold gently halting her along with you. “I think I will stay here.” You threw her a desperate look hoping she’d understand. You needed to be there.

“I get it.” Rhia smiled at you, throwing a glance at the door behind you. “It will be fine, don’t worry. Stay with your man.” She winked at you before she carried on her way. Her words barely registered through your worry muddled brain, but the heat enveloping your cheeks told a completely different story.

“He’s not my man.” You mumbled to no one in particular, the corridor that had once been filled with people curious to catch a glimpse of the man who would be saving the day now completely deserted. You didn’t know if it was the sudden stillness of the area or the knowledge that you were alone and no facade was needed, but you suddenly found your knees collapsing under you.

The rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall above you kept your heartbeat levelled and with one last look at the only physical object between you and Seokjin, you prepared yourself for a long wait.

======

The sound of the door opening made you jump up with no regards for your balance or the rush of blood that made you wobbly. Yelping you tried to catch your footing before you kissed the floor when two surprisingly warm hands wrapped around your forearms steadying you. You barely had time to glance up to catch sight of the soft features and plump lips of the man that you had fallen for, before he pulled you into his arms with a heavy sigh.

“It’s done.” Those words, spoken with such relief, brought the familiar sting of tears to your eyes. Allowing yourself a few brief moments of silence in his arms you gripped his scrubs tighter before you let go. Now that it was done, you felt your nervousness replaced by guilt, making it harder for you to look him in the eye.

“You did it.” You should’ve sounded happy, it should have been a big moment in your life, in his career. Yet, all that was circulating through your mind was how tired and defeated the man before you looked.

“I’m so sorry, I never should have pushed it. I don’t know what I was thinking.” You mumbled, eyes cast downward in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. You knew if you chanced a glance at him you would explode, the myriad of feelings coursing through you like a hurricane too strong to contain.

Jin couldn’t help but chuckle. You weren’t two parts of a whole–or maybe you were, yet you both knew that you were two independent individuals who would one day perhaps slot together in one mould made only for you. For now, you were like two magnets, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards the other and this force was all he needed to do anything in his power for you to look at him.

“You had this Y/N, you’ve always had it, and I will without a doubt carry on trying to push you, but I will always believe in you and your ability to get things done.” Jin’s warm smile left you breathless, the ecstatic expression he wore on his face making him look years younger. Despite the tough procedure he’d gone through, the hours he spent concentrating on the patient’s wellbeing and making sure that everything went off without a hitch, he reached out to you, his arms enveloping you in a strong embrace.

“Jin, you need to rest.” You complained, his compliments deepening the redness in your cheeks. Even though you were sending him to rest, you couldn’t help but bury your face in his warm chest, the comfort of his hug paired with the antiseptic smell of someone having been into a surgery theatre – it all brought comfort. It felt like home.

“Later, right now I just need your strength.” He mumbled as he buried his face in your hair, his arms bringing you closer to him than you thought possible.

“You’re impossible.” Your breathless chuckle vibrated through his tired form making him shudder. Regardless of how tired he felt, he wouldn’t miss a chance to be close to you –not now when you’ve both admitted your feelings for each other.

Jin’s response was to only squeeze you tighter to him, his chin resting now on the top of your head, a sigh of relief escaping past his lips. “It’s over.” You could feel the last strings of tension leaving his body as your hands fisted his scrubs, afraid he may collapse on you at any moment. “Silly woman.” Jin mumbled, his eyes shutting closed for a brief second. “Did you really have that little faith in me?” With tremendous effort he pulled away from you. Despite his chiding remark he was smiling down at you letting you know he was ok– you were ok.

“Shush.” You chuckled, the atmosphere becoming lighter than before. “I wasn’t the one who tried to make his student taste the glucose levels in a urine test, was I?” Your response garnered a deep groan from the man in front of you.

“That was one time! And no one believed me anyways!” He tried to defend himself as you stared at him amusedly, eyebrow quirked. “I’m tired, you can’t do this to me.” He whined as he wrapped his arm around you, steering you out of the room, and for a split second you wondered if you were dealing with an adult or a child. With Jin you’d never know and that was the beauty of it.

“Tell you a secret.” You whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to him, as you passed through the people congratulating him on his success, your voice dropping an octave. “Taehyung tried it at home.”

“What?!”

Would’ve also smashed something else. You thought ruefully, but decided to give your friend the time of the day as you turned your attention towards him. “Yeah.” Feeling intelligent for your response, you deemed it enough to hold him over until later.

Truth of the matter was, you were having an incredibly hard time trying to get over what had happened earlier between Jin and you. The constant small comments that praised you, that is good, excellent, spilling out from his lips as you touched him in front of your peers. That all did nothing to quench the thirst that settled deep inside your stomach. He was more muscular than you gave him credit for, and his slender waist, as you demonstrated how to check for conscious responses, drove you up the wall. It wasn’t just his praises but also the way his dark half lidded gaze settled on every move that you made as your fingers trailed over the expanse of his back, the way he licked his lips when you gripped the back of his head. You could’ve sworn you heard a breathy exhale as you bent down to touch the inside of his knee. All that and your hands trembled like a leaf in the wind, and your panties were probably so wet they almost dropped by themselves.

You’ve done well, Y/N. That was almost your undoing. You were close to dropping on your knees to ask for more but luckily, the fret of students who were eager to go onto their lunch break separated the two of you. Before you left, Jin made sure to give you another praising smile, this time his hand lingering on the inside of your elbow, the tingles of which you could still feel now. And you doubt you’d ever forget his parting words.

You’ve got skillful hands Y/N. I hope you’ll put them to good use.

“Y/N.” Taehyung stared at you deadpan, his pen clicking impatiently on the side of your book. “Could you please focus for a minute?” Your friend was never one for being annoyed, but right now, the tick of his eyebrow and the incessant tap of his foot told you he’s just about had it. With a groan you all but slammed your head onto the table, your forehead coming into contact with the hard surface with a dull thud. If you couldn’t concentrate you would fluke, and you haven’t gone through five years of university to fail right before graduation.

“Ok, right. I’m sorry.” You look at him, your pleading face promising at least one drink of his choice later when you take a much needed break. “Let’s do this again.” Tapping your fingers onto the surface of the table,, you push yourself off it with tremendous effort. Truth is, your thoughts were not only muddled by your impossible crush on your TA, but they were also frazzled due to severe lack of sleep and too much caffeine too late in the night.

Even just the thought of the bitter beverage made your mouth water and your brain sing. You decided that a break sounded better than ever. “Hey.” You tapped your friend whose furrowed brows told you he may appreciate a break too, on the shoulder. Taehyung looked up at you, his eyes wide as if you’ve caught him off guard. “I’m getting some bitter life juice.” You nodded your head in the general direction of the exit. “Wanna come?”

Taehyung sprung up as soon as you mentioned, his sudden movement making the chair scrape the carpet, its leg getting caught. Laughing at his enthusiasm you wound your arm around his shoulder, in itself an impossible task as he is taller, as you tease him. “You sure you wanted to study? You’re awfully quick to dump the books.”

“My brain hurts, which is funny considering that I’m making it hurt by reading about itself.” Taehyung grumbles amusedly. “But then again, I guess anytime we self-reflect we give ourselves a headache.” He ends up gesturing philosophically and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your best friend to be a drama queen.

“Whatever you say Freud, whatever you say.” You shook your head at him, the amused smile on your face not dropping until you reached your destination – the shabby but cosy cafe at the bottom of the building. A place where you have spent countless sleepless nights during freshman year nursing a hot cup of dark liquid, unsweetened and with no milk to soothe the bitterness of the taste. Funnily, your coffee addiction started when you started university. Which is not an uncommon thing, most of your peers had developed a taste for the addictive effects of the caffeine buzzing through their veins in the same way as you have. However, you started out with the sweetest milkiest beverage you could find, only to discover that the bitterness of the coffee woke you up more so than the caffeine content in it did. So little by little you transitioned into drinking the darkest beverage you could, its colour only rivaled by the state of your dark circles.

“Plus you’re buying.” Taehyung winked at you as he opened the doors for you, gesturing to go ahead.

“Ever the gentleman.” You tapped his arm as you passed by, mockingly shaking your head in displeasure. It’s the least you could do for him after having made him go through your daydreaming and firm refusal to study.

Sitting at the counter you tapped your fingers onto your thighs, impatient to get back to your seat and get your head back into the game. You needed to graduate. And Medical Ethics was not going to pass itself.

“Oh Taehyung–“ As if the stars aligned, in the worst possible ways, the voice interrupting your trail of thoughts was awfully familiar. Familiar in class, and familiar in your dreams.

“And Y/N.” You turned around quickly enough to catch the surprised look on Jin’s face as if he hadn't expected you to be there. Your smile felt clipped, the muscles in your face refusing to cooperate with you. In fact your whole body seemed to be going through a myriad of conflicting emotions.

“Teach.” You acknowledged him, your stiff posture not loosening up even after Taehyung nudged you with his elbow. “I mean, Seokjin.” You corrected yourself, just in time, judging by the frown marring Seokjin’s face. You remembered well the hour-long lecture he had at the beginning of the year when he barged in, explaining quite methodically why he shouldn’t be called teacher or professor. His gaze did not falter as he seemed to be weighing his next words, the irritating aura still hanging over you like an unpleasant smell. It may have been just you and the fact that you were hyper aware of his presence, or the fact that you were trying your hardest to show disinterest. But the tension wall that formed between the two of you felt so strong you physically had to remove yourself from being so close within his presence.

“I won’t be your teacher for much longer now, Y/N.” Seokjin’s smile would seem a genuine, friendly smile to anyone else but you. To you, the undertone sounded like a warning laced with promises. Promises that you hoped you were not imagining along with his darkened expression and smouldering eyes.

Taking a step back you glanced nervously at Taehyung, whose scrutinising gaze drank every little detail of your interaction with Seokjin. You knew you’d be interrogated soon, but you could put it off for as long as possible. With Taehyung, avoidance rarely worked, he had the oddest of ways of finding anyone. And you mean anyone and everyone. You would stoop as low as to use Seokjin as an excuse to get out of being drilled.

“We were just getting a drink.” You supply helpfully. Though not asked, you hoped that it would help clear the air between the two of you. You weren’t familiar with Seokjin at all but if it helped get you out of trouble with Taehyung, you’d take all the chances you could get.

“Would you like to join us?” Surprised at the invitation that spewed out of your friend’s mouth you let yours drop with a squeak of surprise. The attention back on you, you could feel the flush threatening to burst from under your clothes making its way to your face.

“Ah, yes, would you like to…” You trailed off, your widened eyes locking onto Seokjin’s. A shiver travelled down your spine at the way his eyes seemed to take in every bit of your features in a predatory-like manner. It felt as if he was waiting for you to slip up, stumble, so that he could make a move.

“Y/N is paying!” Taehyung added as if that would sway Seokjin to respond more favourably. Despite the rocks currently residing at the bottom of your stomach, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your best friend and his unhelpful friendly attitude. Now you wouldn’t only have to pay for three drinks, but you may also have to potentially spend time at a table across from the man you’ve been crushing on since you saw him. You only hoped that Taehyung’s presence would stop you from cracking and begging said man to take you over that table.

“I would love to.” After what felt like hours, Seokjin broke the staring contest, his response directed at Taehyung, the small complacent smile back on his face, eyes the shape of a semi crescent moon.

Great.

He just got off the phone with his newest client, glasses abandoned on his mahogany desk when Taehyung knocked on the door. He’s all bright smiles and sure steps, wondering if Namjoon had time to chat before his big meeting downtown. When he nods, Taehyung’s smile broadens into a grin before he plops on the leather armchair usually reserved for guests, leg bouncing impatiently for his brother to finish some last-minute business.

When he joins his brother on the opposite couch, placing a cup of coffee in front of him, Taehyung exclaims loudly, startling Namjoon:

“I’m going to ask her out.”

Namjoon spits the dark liquid back into the mug, hissing when it splashes to his shirt, scalding the skin underneath. Pulling a handkerchief from his suit jacket, he dabs the corners of his lips and then his shirt before glaring exasperatedly at the youngest Kim. “Couldn’t you have said something after I swallowed?” he grumbles, though the smile he offers to Taehyung removes the venom from his words. “Now, care to explain what you are talking about?”

At the mention of your name, Namjoon blinks, hands frozen in place while his brother’s words stab like arrows into his speeding heart.

“Next week, for her birthday, I planned this super romantic dinner for the both of us in her favourite restaurant. I rented the entire place out and even hired a string quartet to serenade us while we eat.” Taehyung tugs at the ends of his bangs as he grins sheepishly.

“Wow! Taehyung! That’s, um, great! I’m sure she’ll love it.”

There’s a disquiet in Namjoon’s stomach and his cheeks hurt from maintaining the plastic smile. He wants nothing more than to run, especially since the oxygen around him seems too thin, yet it’s as though his shoes are Velcro, sticking stubbornly to the carpet flooring of his office. Clearing his throat in hopes that his voice doesn’t break, Namjoon continues, “But, uh… I didn’t know you liked her. I could’ve sworn I had to pull you away from her so she wouldn’t bite your pinky off.”

“Oh my god, that was when we were babies.” Taehyung chuckles with a roll of his eyes. He points to the portrait of the three of you hanging on the wall, smiling wistfully at the way you’re pouting. “Honestly, I also couldn’t believe that we used to hate each other. It took us moving to a different city for college and not knowing anyone else for us to become friends… And now, I don’t think I can live without her.”

Neither could I. But Namjoon washes down the words by swallowing a mouthful of coffee.

He’s unable to look at Taehyung’s smiling face – at the hope and excitement that resides in the obsidian irises that’s identical to his own.

A small beeping noise breaks the boys from their thoughts and Taehyung glances at his phone with a smile Namjoon knows all too well.

Because it’s the same smile he wears when he receives a text from you.

“Speak of the angel,” he chuckles as he types quickly into his phone. “I gotta go soon. Looks like Princess needs me.”

Namjoon frowns at the familiar nickname. He wants to know where he’s going, why you needed him so badly that you’d call him during work, but he remains tight-lipped, biting into the white ceramic to avoid saying the wrong things. It doesn’t seem fair that Taehyung likes you too, but really, it’s his own fault for never making it known to anyone, choosing to scatter his affections sporadically in hopes you’d catch on one day.

Young, handsome, and rich, Taehyung has been by your side all the way since elementary school and is obviously a much better match for you, to the point where your parents often wonder aloud why they aren’t dating. You’d buff the question with a loud laugh, telling his parents that Taehyung was just a friend. But Namjoon should’ve known better – should’ve been able to read the looks and touches between the two of you. So, with half a heart, he lets Taehyung talk confidently about his grand plan and how he’s sure you’re going to say yes, all while Namjoon plasters the smile he wears when he’s forced to deal with unruly clients and he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or hurt that his brother seems too excited to notice.

“Thanks for all your help today, man. You know, I’m really glad that you don’t see her that way,” he laughs, completely missing the slip in Namjoon’s façade. Without looking in his direction, Taehyung finishes the last of his coffee and places it on the saucer with a loud clink. As he stands and heads to the oak doors leading out of his office, he turns back and salutes. “Wish me luck, won’t you?”

And though Namjoon replies with an overly cheerful “yeah”, pretending to be busy with something on his phone to fully acknowledge his brother’s departure, what he secretly hopes is for Taehyung’s plans to crash and burn into a million tiny flames.

---

Since the conversation with Taehyung, Namjoon has thrown himself into every little detail of his projects. With his mind occupied by the thoughts of tonight and with his week filled with offsite meetings in various parts of the city, his usually immaculate office has been accumulating with scattered stationary and random stacks of paper cups – some empty, save for the dregs of coffee floating around the bottom.

He did wish you a 'happy birthday' this morning, but only through text before muting the entire conversation. Every time you’d call, Namjoon lets it go to voicemail until he couldn’t bear the sound of your ringtone anymore and sets his phone to silent, leaving it in his drawer so the buzz won’t keep him distracted during the task-filled day.

When he returns to the office after his last meeting for the day, he’s carrying large rolls of parchment under each arm, filled with housing measurements and sketches of the new skyscraper he’s building in the city as he walks by his secretary’s desk. “God, these blueprints keep getting larger and larger, I swear!” Namjoon chuckles as she stands up to help him with the door. “Eunha, did I miss anything while I was away?”

“Mrs. Ha called a little while ago, sir. She wanted to discuss the zoning laws for the Bolingbrook residence again, but I told her to contact you tomorrow because you have a guest arriving soon. Oh, and I threw out all those paper cups you were hoarding on your desk. You’re welcome by the way,” she winks.

Namjoon fixes her a questioning look, raising his eyebrows up while he slots the final blueprint inside the roll file. “Uh, thank you for that, but who—”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Eunha singsongs as she cuts him off. “I’m about to head out. Have a great evening, Mr. Kim.”

He’s unable to get another word in before the door closes shut behind her. Maybe it was a potential client?

Anticipating the arrival for his mysterious guest, Namjoon surveys the state of his office in dismay, figuring that he should at least throw out the crumpled balls of paper and pick up the thousands of pencils littering his desk. Just as he places the last of his pencils into a gold cup, the prize he won for coming in first place in the Young Engineer’s competition, Namjoon hears a few knocks from the other side of his door.

“Eunha, is that you? Did you forget some—”

But it isn’t the familiar streaks of blonde hair belonging to his secretary that comes into view when the doors swing open.

Namjoon couldn’t believe what he’s seeing, so he rubs his eyes underneath his glasses before blinking a few times to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He’s managed to get rid of all thoughts of you today, yet here you stand in the doorway, wearing a crimson dress that hugs your curves and shows too much of your lovely legs. The harsh, yellow fluorescent light behind you casts a shadow over your face, making it impossible for him to read your expression.

He calls out your name hesitantly, standing up to walk towards you. “Why are you here?” he asks, approaching your figure. “Aren’t you supposed to have dinner with Taehyung?”

“Oh! Yeah,” you reply, blinking rapidly as though you’re surprised to find him here. “I was worried because you weren’t answering my calls and no one seemed to know where you were so… I cancelled on Taehyung to make sure you’re okay. I came as soon as your secretary said you’ll be back in your office.”

Namjoon shouldn’t feel elated, but he can’t help the fond smile from appearing on his features. He reaches out to touch your face, thumb swiping at your cheek before he remembers what tonight meant for Taehyung and the guilt worms its way into his heart. Withdrawing his hand, he buries it in his pocket as he clears his throat. “Well, as you can see, I’m okay, just been pretty busy.” Namjoon casts his eyes towards the floor, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Go enjoy your evening with Taehyung, I’ll be okay.”

Instead of leaving, you rock on the balls of your feet. “Actually, I came to ask you to fulfill my birthday wish,” you pout, staring up at him through your lashes, completely unaware of what those Bambi eyes do to a man like him.

You step forward after kicking the door shut with your foot, covering the gap between your two bodies until there’s only a few inches left between your chests. The smell of your sweet perfume infiltrates Namjoon’s head, making his blood roar loudly against his ears. All too aware of the temptation before him, he attempts to focus on your face, instead of the cleavage spilling out of the bodice of the dress.

He fails.

Fuck.

Namjoon flickers his gaze upwards when he hears you giggle, embarrassment dusting a faint pink on his cheeks after being caught staring. “A-And what would that be?” he stutters. It’s not the most eloquent response, but his tongue is suddenly too thick for his mouth, refusing to shape the syllables required to form a coherent sentence.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tiptoe, the action causing your tits to squish against his chest and Namjoon’s brain shuts off when you whisper in his ear:

“I’d like to borrow you for tonight.”

He shivers, a groan involuntarily escaping from his throat. Despite his erection straining against its confines, Namjoon takes a step back. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he mutters, pulling your arms away from his neck. “Go back to Taehyung, hell, go back home.”

“But Joon—” you whine, jutting your bottom lip out and fluttering your lashes at him. “It’s my birthday, isn’t it? And you’ve been ignoring me all day. Isn’t this the least you could do?”

When you wind your arms around his neck again, he doesn’t pull away, defence crumbling to dust as he melts in your embrace. And when your lips graze against his, whatever self-restraint he’s been holding on shatters.

Namjoon digs his fingers into the soft curve of your hips as he pulls you closer, smashing your bodies together until the distance falls to zero. He earns a whine when he bites down on your bottom lip, the sound pooling in his abdomen as he maneuvers the two of you to his desk. Without breaking contact, he props you up, and the gasp you let out allows him to push his tongue inside your mouth, tasting the sweetness of your tongue as they swipe against each other.

“Joon—” you whimper, breaking apart to inhale deeply. Your pupils are so blown out with lust that it seems to turn your irises black and the cute half-gasps you utter makes Namjoon weak to his knees. How could you be so innocent and so devastatingly sexy at the same time?

“Kiss me more, please?” you pout and Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice.

He kisses you like a man starved, smearing your lipstick all over your face with the glide of his lips and the swipe of his tongue. Your whines are music to his ears and he orchestrates your body to produce more of the sweet sounds. He leaves open-mouth kisses down your throat, nibbling at the spots that cause your hips to jump and grind against his length. When he bites down on the exposed cleavage, your hands tangle themselves in his hair and he groans, a perfect accompaniment to your melody.

“God, these tits… It’s like you planned to seduce me tonight,” he husks as he palms your breast over the dress. “Not wearing a bra, either? Wow. You act all innocent; claiming that you’re worried about me… bullshit. Why are you really here, hm?”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, finding your pebbled nipples easily through the thin material of your dress. You throw your head back as he tweaks them with his thumb, but the desire to feel your skin directly makes him stop. The thin straps on your shoulders could easily snap if he just tugged, but he doesn’t want to ruin your dress, so he slips them off instead, throwing the garment over his shoulder carelessly. Namjoon ogles your near-naked body shamelessly, save for the thin piece of underwear covering your modesty.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mewl, crossing your arms over your naked chest.

Namjoon chuckles, kissing your wrists as he pulls them away gently. “I’ll look at you however I want. I may be yours for the night, but you’re also mine.”

He sees the effects of his words from the way you tremble, lips parted slightly in a silent moan. “Then show me what it’s like to be yours, Joon.”

Whatever guilt he felt earlier that night disappears when he hears the neediness in your voice. Namjoon claims your lips once more, tongue swiping against yours while his hands busy themselves with your tits. He tugs and tweaks the nipples, switching between rolling the mounds under his palms and squeezing them not ungently.

“Enjoying yourself?” he chuckles, pulling away from the kiss.

“Ah—yeah, f-feels good,” you moan whilst arching your back and pushing your chest further into his hands.

He fits a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling at the bud while his hand continues to give attention to the other one. Your innocent whines turn into airy pants as he moves to the other nipple, applying the same pressure as before until his filthy mind gives him an idea. With his eyes trained on your face, he ever so gently grazes his teeth on the sensitive area.

“Fuck! Joon—ah!” you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut and tugging harshly at the blond strands of his hair.

The stinging in his scalp is a confirmation for him to continue, nipping and sucking at the area, your cries only fueling his actions. Before long, your skin is marred with marks from his teeth, dark hues dotting all over your chest, panting heavily while you stare into his eyes. Namjoon stands to admire his work, a devilish smirk upon his lips as his thumb grazes against your cheek. “Did it feel good? Do you like the pretty marks I gave you?” He trails his finger over each bite. “Let me hear you clearly.”

“Y-Yes,” you gulp, blinking up at him with such wide eyes. “Like it a lot.”

Namjoon cocks his head to the side with a look of mock concern. “What happened? Can’t even speak in full sentences anymore?” He was ready to apologize in case he sounded too mean, but the glint in your eyes only stokes the embers of his desire, the fire gradually burning brighter. So, he continues. Holding you chin tightly in his hand, he moves your head left and right like a doll, all while whispering, “We’ve barely started and you’re already stupid?”

“Not true!” you pout, but the effect is lost when your voice is so high-pitched and airy, the words barely leaving your mouth.

He pinches your exposed bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger, tutting dismissively with a shake of his head. “Such a brat. Do I need to teach you how to behave?”

To his surprise, you begin to suckle the tip of his thumb, pink tongue darting out to lick the digit occasionally. With a flutter of your lids, you beg, “Please, ‘wanna learn to be good for you.”

Namjoon groans as he pushes his digit further into your warm mouth, his head swimming pleasantly. Leaving your mouth with a wet pop, he moves around the desk to sit on his chair, beckoning you over by patting his lap. “Come have a seat and let me teach you.”

With shaky legs, you trade off the cold surface of the desk for his warm lap, your hands gripping his large shoulders for balance. Gingerly, you spread your legs on either side of the chair before lowering yourself onto his thighs. The flex of his muscle against your cunt has you trembling and it isn’t long before Namjoon feels a patch of wetness soaking the leg of his pants through. You bite your bottom lip as you begin to rock back and forth, panting quietly and watching for Namjoon’s reaction. He raises a brow up, but says nothing, so you assume it’s safe to continue, tightening your grip on his shoulders as you begin to move in earnest.

SMACK!

The spank has you gushing on Namjoon’s leg, body rigid, as a long drawn-out moan rips itself from your throat.

“Did I say that you’re allowed to move?” he scowls.

You shake your head, whimpers falling past your lips, but it only earns you another swat on your ass, the sharp sound resounding in his quiet office.

“Use your words. This is the last time I’m warning you, brat.”

“N-No,” you reply. “I’m sorry. Can I move now?”

Namjoon smiles sweetly, showing off his dimples. “You may, but you can’t cum.”

Your movements are a little more reserved after the punishment you received and Namjoon’s quick to notice, so he aids you by placing his large hands on either side of your waist, moving your body, and flexing his thighs against your clit.

“Shit—” Your eyes flutter shut as pleasure takes hold of your form. The wet patch grows with every drag of your core against his thighs and Namjoon watches in fascination at your blissed out face. Your mouth hangs open, occasional moans slipping past as you cant your hips. When your hips begin to stutter, Namjoon takes control and speeds up instead, purposefully aiding your orgasm along.

“Joon—stop, ah! I’m gonna c-cum if you keep going!” you whine, digging your nails into his neck. Too late. The coil threatens to come undone with every prick of pleasure sending shockwaves down your spine. “Fuckfuck—I’m gonna—”

Just as you’re about to tumble across the edge, Namjoon stops. You shiver and sob, balling your hands into fists and punching pathetically at his chest. He can only chuckle at your attempts, massaging your hips gently as you call him all sorts of names.

“You know you aren’t allowed to cum, baby,” he grins, cutting you off in the middle of you calling him a ‘motherfucker’.

“I wouldn’t have been close to cumming if you just stopped when I asked you to! Besides—”

Namjoon’s click of his tongue snaps your mouth shut. Pressing your cheeks together with his hands, he looms over your face. “You’re so fucking loud,” he seethes, though a smirk threatens to tug the corners of his lips when you shudder under his hard gaze. “Why don’t you make that mouth useful instead?”

He releases you by pushing your face away, causing your neck to snap to the side. You pout, rubbing your sore cheeks with your palms as you sink to your knees. The sight of your wide eyes staring up at him from the floor sends a shiver down his spine and he can’t suppress the groan that escapes as he thumbs your slightly swollen bottom lip.

“Think this mouth of yours can fit my cock?” he questions rhetorically.

Instead of answering him, you palm his erection from his slacks, earning a loud hiss from his lips. Without breaking eye contact, you slowly unzip his trousers with your teeth, smirking when Namjoon’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan. However, when his cock springs free from its confines, the confident grin slips from your features. Your eyes attempt to take everything in; at the veins running along the shaft and the drop of precum threatening to spill from the swollen head.

“Big,” you mumble to yourself, and that description alone makes Namjoon’s chest swell with pride.

Your delicate hands can’t quite reach around the girth, and you swallow thickly before hesitantly licking around the tip, gradually making your trek downwards to run your tongue along the veins.

When you envelop his cock with your lips, Namjoon had to grind his feet on the carpet below to avoid bucking his hips and sheathing himself fully in your mouth. The pace you set is slow, your head bobbing rhythmically while you use your hand to move in tandem in areas where you can’t quite reach. Inch by glorious inch, you take him in deeper, your strokes speeding up as you choke yourself with his cock.

“Good girl. You look so pretty trying to take me in,” he grunts, thrusting his hips to match your movements. “Touch yourself for me, baby, let me hear you feel good.”

You obey his command with a soft mewl, moving your sodden panties to the side to allow your fingers to brush against your folds. You find your clit with ease, pressing figure eights on the sensitive nub, moaning loudly as you close your eyes.

The vibration causes him to ram his dick into your mouth and you choke as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” Namjoon hisses. “Relax, doll. Take a deep breath for me.”

With a low whine, you breathe in heavily through your nose, blinking up at him before swallowing his cock. The unfamiliar pressure causes tears to blur your vision, but Namjoon is patient, small hisses and grunts surrounding you as you close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Your jaw aches, the weight of his dick slightly uncomfortable on your tongue, but you shake your head when he asks you if you wanted to stop.

You feel a sense of achievement when your nose brushes the soft skin of his pelvis, and you smile brightly at him when he praises you for your efforts.

“That’s my good girl. Look at you, taking all my cock in your mouth.”

Namjoon throws his head back on the chair as he bucks into your warm mouth, your tongue swirling the underside of his head. He hisses when your teeth graze gently on the sides of his shaft causing his hips to stutter to a stop. At first, he thought that the reaction was because he’s hurt you somehow, but the small hint of a smirk lets him know that you’ve done it on purpose.

“Naughty bitch.”

He stands from his chair only to slam his dick down your throat, keeping your breathing hostage as he glowers from above. You gag around his length, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs, but he refuses to relax his grip, grinding his hips on your face flat against his pelvis. Your mouth chokes out pleas and apologies, tears fully streaming down your face, in hopes he’d take pity on you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

Just as his mouth opens to call you a demeaning name, his phone vibrates in his desk. Opening the drawer, he fishes out the phone to find PARK JIMIN lighting up the screen. Namjoon was about to let it ring, but knowing this particular client, he’d just march into his office with careless abandon.

With his dick still stuffed down your throat to the point where he can see the barest hint of its outline against your skin, he presses his pointer finger to his lips, waving the phone in his hand so you know what’s about to happen.

He clears his throat before placing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, I have a few questions about the project next week, are you free at all?”

“Kind of busy, but I can talk for a bit,” he grins, petting your hair gently with his palm before unsheathing his cock and slamming it in your throat again.

As Jimin recounts his tales of misery in Namjoon’s ear, he drags his shaft in and out of your mouth, tapping your cheek softly every time you make a noise. There were times when he’s scared he’s gone too far, but every so often, you’d moan and swallow him in yourself, lust causing your eyelids to droop shut as you relish his taste.

Jimin’s voice is drowned out by the roaring in his ears, his focus solely on making sure that he doesn’t hear the wet slurps from the other end. He spies the impatience in your gaze; you’re shifting your legs occasionally after kneeling for a lengthy period of time, but he shakes his head and presses a palm on your forehead to hold you still when you attempt to move faster. You’re undeterred, however, intent on making him cum while he’s on the phone, so you hollow your cheekbones and suck.

The involuntary gasp that Namjoon lets out makes you smirk, and his hands stray from your forehead to hold the device that he almost drops in surprise. You take the opportunity to take him deeper, filling your mouth with his scent, the wet noises surrounding you as you move faster until you feel his cock twitch and his muscles flex, the orgasm close to reaching its peak.

“Jimin? Sorry to cut you off. Yeah, now’s a bad time. I have to go.” He growls the last syllable before ending the call, throwing his phone haphazardly on his desk.

You sob as he drives his hard length into your throat, uncaring at the gags and choking sounds you’re making. There’s a blaze in his dark set of eyes, displeasure rolling off his body in waves. He slaps you across the cheek, the smarting pain causing you to moan.

“Fucking bitch,” he hisses, pressing your face to his crotch. “Is this what you want, huh? I can’t go five minutes to talk on the phone with someone. Jesus, just how desperate are you?”

He yanks you away from his dick by your hair, leaving you gasping for air. Thin strands of saliva still connect your swollen lips to the head of his cock. You whimper quietly at the sight of Namjoon pressing his tongue on the lining of his cheek and despite the glare he’s maintaining, the thumb caressing your cheek is gentle, causing you to sigh in contentment. The fantasy, however, shatters when he pulls you up roughly by the hair. You shriek, tears streaming down your face. When your nails dig into the back of his hand, he releases you then, cooing your name mockingly as he massages your scalp.

“Did that hurt, baby? Are you ready to behave now?”

You nod, pouting slightly before answering him with a quiet ‘yes’. He peppers your face with kisses, though it’s not the apologies you sought, yet you sigh when his lips glide over yours, his tongue finding a home in your mouth as it sweeps lazily inside.

“Sit on my desk and spread your legs wide for me, sweetheart,” he whispers, releasing you with heaving breaths.

Deciding that the pain on your face and ass were enough punishment for the night, you’re quick to obey his demands, placing your heels on the lip of the desk to spread yourselves bare for him. Namjoon’s hands find a home in your thighs, squeezing gently as he sits back down on his chair. He hums in appreciation at the sodden cloth still covering your core, the fabric sticking resolutely that he can see the detailed outlines of your pussy against it.

With his eyes trained on your face, his fingers trail your folds slowly over the garment, noting every hitch in your breathing. Your eyes droop shut when his thumb presses on your clit, the muscles on your abdomen clenching when he begins to swipe over the tender nub.

“Namjoon,” you whine. “Please, need your fingers directly.”

He shakes his head in amusement, tutting at your impatience. “Absolutely not. This filthy cunt doesn’t deserve my fingers.”

He presses his palm over your core, grinding specifically on your nub as your hole clenches around nothing. Your whines are muffled through your gritted teeth, and you fall to your elbows when you’re unable to hold yourself up, the orgasm building gradually, frustratingly, in your stomach. “Pleasepleaseplease—” you rasp. “I’m sorry, Joon. Need your fingers, please!”

Your cries fall on deaf ears and Namjoon increases his speed instead, paying attention to only your clit while his other hand anchors your floating hips on the desk. Resigned to your fate, you let him take control, eyes falling shut as your moans surround him. Your body jerks with every drag of his fingers against your cunt, ripples of arousal dripping down and pooling at the table below.

“Cum all over my desk, filthy thing,” he rumbles, grinning wolfishly as he attempts to sear this image of you in his head. You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now.

“Namjoon!” you cry, rolling your hips desperately into his palm. Your orgasm barrels into you in great droves, the waves crashing over and over as your body jolts under his grip.

Namjoon smiles at the repeated broken cries of his name, gracing your ears with praises while you fill the room with your heaving pants. While you allow air to flow into your lungs, Namjoon discards the panties to the ground before he leans closer and presses his lips on to your folds. You attempt to scoot away, body still wrecked with the aftereffects of an orgasm, yet he holds you against him with his large hands on your ass, squeezing the plumpness gently.

“Nnh—too sensitive,” you sob, pushing weakly against his head.

Yet Namjoon continues to make out with your cunt, slurping your juices as his tongue moves in and out of your hole. Your legs close in on his head on more than one occasion when he sucks your folds, yet he remains at the task at hand, unbothered by the crushing weight on the sides of his head; nor at the delicate hands threatening to rip chunks of hair from his scalp.

“You taste so good. How can I bring myself to stop?” he mumbles before licking a broad stripe against your hole.

Slowly, the pin pricks of pain from being so overly stimulated morphs into mind-blowing pleasure. The coil unravels bit by bit, gentle waves rocking your body instead of the previous riptide threatening to pull you under. This time, when you cum, it’s with an unintelligible breathy moan, your body twitching occasionally against his hold.

“Good?” he smirks, wiping the wet lower half of his mouth with his sleeve.

You blink at him as he helps you sit up, chest heaving in an effort to even out your breathing. “Good,” you answer with a breathless pant, a small smile forming on your face.

Namjoon plants a soft kiss on your lips, drinking you in languidly before he mumbles, “Wait here.” His feet bring him to the mini refrigerator he keeps in his office, flooding part of the room with a white light while he shuffles its contents. He’s grateful to find the cold bottle of water at the very back, opening it with a crack while he makes his way back to your still seated figure.

He watches you down the contents to about half before you hand it back to him where he finishes the rest. Throwing the empty bottle into the trash, Namjoon returns to his desk to pull you into his lap, letting your head rest on his chest as he strokes your hair.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks after a bit.

“Nope.” You reply with a shake of your head, enunciating the ‘p’ with a pop.

The silence returns. After a while, you remove yourself from his chest, biting your bottom lip as you stare up into his eyes. “I want to keep going, Joon.”

His cock twitches at your proposal, but however tempting that may be, Namjoon shakes his head. “You’re exhausted. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

He expected some resistance sure; some pouting and whining from your end like the spoiled princess you are, but what he doesn’t expect are the tears. Your lips wobble as you try not to hiccup. When you’re unable to stop the twin streams from falling down your face, you sob into your hands, shaking off Namjoon’s attempts to soothe you.

“When will you get in your head that I’m doing all this for you, idiot?” you cry, throwing a piercing glare into Namjoon’s eyes as you pound on his chest. “The dress, my birthday wish… do you know how embarrassed I was when I told you that I wanted to borrow you for the night?”

Namjoon balks at your confession, the gears turning in his head. “Wait… huh?” he asks dumbfoundedly. “What about Taehyung?”

“What about him?” you challenge. “He’s the one that helped me plan this!”

His mouth hangs open, thinking back to his brother’s visit last week. Of course, Taehyung does frequently show up unannounced or with very little time for a heads up, but he’s never talked to Namjoon about his love life. The oddity of the situation, however, was eclipsed when he mentioned your name.

You loom closer to his face, noses grazing against each other. “Do you get it now? Or do I have to spell it out for you?”

Namjoon blinks a few times before smirking. His hand cups your cheek, thumb sweetly caressing the skin underneath. “Use your words, baby,” he whispers, barely brushing his lips over yours.

You shiver at the ghost of a kiss. “I like you, idiot,” you admit before pulling on his tie so you can crash your lips on his.

“I like you too,” he moans into the kiss. He kneads your hips gently while he drinks you in, moving his head to slot better against your lips.

You card your fingers in his hair, messing up the perfectly slicked back look before your hands move south to undo his buttons. The tie and dress shirt joins his pants on the floor and it’s your turn to ogle at the reveal of Namjoon’s sculpted chest. You rake your fingers down his body and Namjoon hisses when you catch a nipple with your nail. Retaliation fuelling your movements, you paint his body with reds and blues, your mouth leaving hickeys while you dig your fingers deep into his skin.

Namjoon doesn’t object, his hands fisted on the arm rests to his side. When you’re satisfied with your work, you offer him a cheeky smile, one he returns with a smirk of his own.

“Like what you see?” he pants, arching a brow.

“I do, but I’d like you more if you’d just fuck me already.”

Chuckling at your boldness, he gives your lips a quick peck before returning you to the desk. “That can be arranged.”

He swallows your moans as he drives his fingers in your cunt. Even now, you feel full with just two of his digits as he works to stretch you out for what’s to come.

“Can’t wait anymore, Joon. Need you now,” you whine, pushing his face away so he’d see the neediness in your eyes.

Namjoon chuckles with a shake of his head. He places the length of him on your stomach and you gulp when the head of his cock reaches just shy past your navel. “Are you sure you’re ready? Last chance to back out.”

“Never.”

He slaps your pussy with the tip of his cock, letting the juices soak the head before he inches inside. The stretch is nothing like you’ve imagined, and your legs shake in an effort to keep them open. When Namjoon bottoms out, your vision blurs, the blunt head of his cock kissing the rough patch of nerves inside you.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he moans, slipping his dick halfway out as his hands squeeze your tits to distract you from the burn. “Does it hurt, baby?”

You whimper out a quiet ‘no’, but your body contradicts your statement, breathing laboured as you attempt to calm your racing heart.

He kisses each of the marks he left on your body, tongue darting out to lick your nipples to help you relax. He pays close attention to your neck and the spot underneath your jaw that makes you tremble underneath him. Gradually, your tight walls relax around him, and your moans return to the airy breaths he’s used to hearing.

“That’s it, relax for me,” he whispers by the shell of your ear.

Your fingers dig into the skin of his back when he bottoms out for the second time. Namjoon moans against your neck, shuddering as your walls envelope him tightly. He maintains a shallow pace, plunging half his cock inside before pulling out to accommodate your tiny cunt. Though he tries to be gentle, you have other plans and the next time he removes himself, leaving only the tip inside, you hook your legs and press on the globes of his ass, urging him forward wordlessly.

Namjoon curses loudly as he topples forward, barely catching himself with his hands to avoid crushing you under his weight. “You could’ve killed us both,” he gasps, righting himself back up.

Your response is to giggle, fluttering your lids innocently at his scowl. “I had to risk it; you weren’t moving.”

You see the twitch on the corners of his lips. Namjoon digs his fingers into your body, dimpling the skin underneath and proceeds to drive his dick into your cunt at a bruising pace. Your response is a series of groans, each one louder than the last, eyes falling shut as you let Namjoon move your body like a ragdoll.

“I’m learning so much about you tonight,” he chuckles before hooking his arms under your legs. “Who knew that the girl that wouldn’t stop following me around would grow up to be such a cock hungry slut?”

“Can’t—ah—help it,” you grin.

Namjoon loves the way your tits jiggle as he pounds into you, the visual stimuli accompanied by the sweet whimpers of his name cause the once small fire to grow exponentially into a blaze, consuming him from the inside out. You convulse with every drag of his cock against your walls, the twitches intensifying when he spits on your pussy and rubs your clit with his thumb. Your tongue hangs loosely out of your mouth, unseeing eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“C-Close. I’m gonna cum,” you mutter.

Just as you finish warning him, Namjoon hisses as your pussy holds his dick in a vice grip, the pressure sparking pleasure down his spine as his head begins to swim. He thrusts deeper into your cunt, his fingers working faster until you scream his name, your orgasm wrecking your body as your arousal squirts out of your battered walls.

Your orgasm triggers Namjoon’s own release and he cums with a drawn-out groan of your name, driving his cock deep into your cunt where he paints the insides white. He exits out of your tight pussy with a hiss, spilling the contents of your combined juices on the wood below.

Namjoon hums as he scoops some of the cum with his fingers. “Open,” he commands. He shoves his digits into your mouth, and you whine at the bitter and salty taste of him. After licking his digits clean, he hands you another bottle of water as he works to clean you off. Despite his gentleness, you still hiss when he drags the tissue over your swollen lips. In true Namjoon fashion, he apologizes every time, kissing the inside of your thighs in hopes it will rectify the ache between your legs.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after you’re both fully clothed. You’re sitting on his lap, absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

Namjoon presses his lips on your forehead before tilting his chin downward to capture your gaze. You grant him a shy smile. “Very sore, no thanks to you,” you giggle.

He joins your giggles with rumbling laughter, smiling adoringly at your face. “You know, I never thought that you’d see me as anything more than just your best friend’s older brother.”

“I could say the same thing,” you hum. “I thought you only saw me as a younger sister.”

“Nonsense, I’ve had a crush on you since I found you hiding in the bathroom crying because of the loud storm outside.”

“You make it sound like I’m such a cry-baby,” you pout.

Namjoon laughs, pulling you tighter into his embrace. “I know this is all backwards, but when you said that you wanted to borrow me for just one night… how about we change that for the rest of our lives?” He wets his lips as he studies your face, at the wide doe eyes that stare straight at him with hope. “Won’t you be my girlfriend?”

You squeal in delight, wrapping your arms around his neck before peppering kisses all over his face. Your mirth joins in when you kiss his full lips as you whisper into the kiss, “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

Taehyung sits in the crowded bar, whiskey in one hand while he scrolls through his phone with the other. The usual denizens surround the bar like hawks, calling out their orders and waving dollars around, pressing on his lone figure from every side. Yet, he persists to sit there, despite the growing number of liquids that spill on his tan jacket.

He had turned away all the lovely ladies that have asked him to dance, preferring the silent comfort of his drink while he waits for a text. Just as he opens twitter for the nth time that night, his phone vibrates in his hand.

Princess: The plan worked! You’re a genius. I owe you an eternity of pancakes. Taehyung: Told you so.

He smirks at the message one last time before locking his phone and placing it in his pocket. He downs the amber liquid in one go, wincing at the burn in his throat. Slipping a few dollars under the glass, Taehyung shoulders his way past the crowd and into the night outside.

And when a beautiful stranger comes up to him to ask him where he’s going, Taehyung lets her guide him away, leaving the chaos behind him.

moon's notes: well... i didn't anticipate to write a whole ass fic, but the ideas just kept coming! sorry that this is a wee late. but what do we think about the ending? 👀 i left it sort of open for your interpretation; did taehyung secretly have feelings for her? did he not? who knows!!! thanks so much for reading!

posted: 9.28.21