#FF - Extras

[velvetwyrme]

FUEL YOUR BURNING PASSION!!!🔥✨

A scene which has been haunting me since Flipping Fate Chapter 6! Once again I've drawn stuff for this reader insert fic without including the reader in it </3

I started this back before Chapter 6 was posted, and it's taken me like 7 chapters to finish it. I'm... still not entirely happy with it, but I really want to post it because I'm pretty proud of the perspective and the lineart!

Closeups on the fridge and also the pancakes because I thought they were fun details that get Crunched by tumblr LMAO

Originally I intended for this to have shading and cool lighting stuff, but eventually I gave up on it because I wasn't happy with how it was turning out and looking at it was making me sad :[!!

Also, the lineart on it's own (which I do like!)

[eriyu]

??? at some point, they toned down Baderon's accent for JUST this one line

he still leaved the d out of "and" in every other line, and there's nothing about this line that stands out, or would have had to be edited for any other reason...? what the hell

[jkwrites-m]

Extra Credit (1)

Pairing: uni student!Jungkook x uni teacher!female reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 9.3k

Summary: Jungkook falls for his professor. She makes the rules - and he loves breaking them.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, cursing, dom!female reader, sub!Jungkook, age gap (both 18+), sexual tension, power imbalance, teasing, fixation, power play, slight emotional manipulation, “good boy” 😮‍💨 explicit: dom/sub dynamics, kissing, handjob, oral (f. & m. Receiving), riding, unprotected sex, edging (!!)

A/N: 2 hours later… heyyyyy anon 🫶 hopefully this is what you wanted, if not lmk! and I’ll work on something else but this just flew out of me. I was in the editing process and added an extra 2k words bc it just felt right 🤭

MASTERPOST ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ next

═══════

It started with her heels.

I was already two minutes away from walking out. 

Hungover, hoodie barely on, no clue why I even enrolled in Chemistry 204 when I knew I’d probably flunk it by midterms. This was supposed to be a throwaway class- just some gen-ed requirement I’d forget about the second I passed it.

Then she walked in.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound echoed off the walls before I ever saw her. Slow. Sharp. Confident. Like she owned the floor under her. I glanced up- and fuck me, everything stopped.

She was… something else.

Tight blouse, dark skirt clinging to her curves like it had been sewn on her skin, lips painted in a color that made my mouth dry up. She walked like she knew we were all staring, like she’d counted on it.

My pulse was racing before she even spoke.

“Good morning,” she said, voice calm, rich, like velvet dragged across bare skin. “I’m Professor Y/N. This is Chemistry 204, and if you’re here to sleep or slack off, you’ll fail. I can promise you that.”

I felt my ears go hot.

I ducked my head, trying to act like I wasn’t already fantasizing about her throwing me out of class just so I could watch her mouth move again.

Jimin nudged me from the seat next to mine. “Dude. You’re literally salivating.”

“I’m not,” I hissed, even though I was a little.

She started handing out syllabi, walking row by row. And when she passed, her perfume hit me- something warm, like vanilla, but not too sweet. Clean. Dangerous. I stared at my desk like it held the secrets to the universe.

Then her voice. Right above me.

“Mr… Jeon?”

My throat closed. I looked up, and there she was. Looking right at me.

“Y-Yes.”

Her lips curved. Not a smile. Not a smirk. Just… something knowing. “Try not to fail my class.”

And just like that, she moved on. Like it meant nothing. Like she hadn’t just rearranged the entire structure of my brain chemistry with one look and seven words.

Jimin leaned over again, barely containing his laughter. “Ohhh, bro. You’re done for.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

My hands were clenched. My chest tight. She was already across the room again, giving someone else the kind of look that made me want to fight whoever they were.

I had no idea how I was going to survive this semester.

All I knew was that I wanted her to say my name again. That same tone. That same amused edge. Like she already knew every dirty thought racing through my head.

And God, there were a lot of them.

═══════

She wasn’t looking at me.

Not directly, anyway. But every time I dared to glance up from the god-awful list of elements and safety rules in front of me, I swore her eyes brushed over mine. Like she knew. Like she felt it.

My stomach wouldn’t stop flipping.

“You’re so obvious,” Jimin muttered, leaning in. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Am not.”

“You are literally chewing your pencil and blushing like a schoolgirl.”

I dropped the pencil.

The first lab assignment was some basic formulaic reaction. Something about ionic bonds, but I couldn’t make sense of any of it. The paper might as well have been blank. All I could focus on was the sharp click of her heels circling the lab again, moving from table to table, her hips swaying with every step, her voice low and composed as she corrected some kid for not wearing safety goggles properly.

And then, suddenly, she was behind me.

I felt her before I heard her. A warmth along my back, the subtle scent of that same perfume from earlier- something warm and clean and sharp.

“You’re off by two protons, Mr. Jeon.”

I flinched. My fingers stumbled on my calculator.

“I- I thought- ”

“Clearly,” she interrupted, and then leaned closer. Her hand brushed over mine, adjusting the numbers on my worksheet. “Your aluminum ion is missing its charge. Pay attention.”

Her breath hit the back of my neck. I stopped breathing entirely.

She didn’t step back. Not right away. She lingered there, close enough that I could feel the fabric of her blouse rustle slightly as she moved. Then finally - finally - she pulled away, heels clicking off to the next table like she hadn’t just pulled my brain out of my skull and dropkicked it across the room.

Jimin was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Did she just-?” he whispered.

“I don’t- yeah- I don’t know.”

“Are you sweating?”

“I think I blacked out.”

“Dude.”

I dropped my face into my hands, groaning low. “I’m gonna fail this class.”

“No, bro. You’re gonna die in it.”

When I looked up again, she was standing at the front of the class writing some formula on the board, but her hand paused for just a split second. Just long enough for her head to tilt slightly… toward me.

I sat up straighter, not even thinking.

And then she smiled- barely. The kind of smile you could miss if you blinked. The kind that wasn’t meant for the class.

It was meant for me.

And I was gone.

═══════

The second the bell rang, I was out of my seat- heart racing, mind a total blur. I shoved my notebook into my bag without checking anything I’d written down, which probably didn’t matter because I hadn’t really written anything.

“You were twitching the whole time,” Jimin said as we stepped into the hallway. “Like she was controlling you with telepathy.”

“She wasn’t,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

“She basically whispered in your ear and adjusted your hand like it was foreplay.”

“Jesus, Jimin.”

“What? I’m not wrong.”

I glared at him but couldn’t argue. The feel of her hand guiding mine, the whisper of her breath against my neck. I could still feel it. Like my skin had absorbed the memory and refused to let go.

We reached the end of the hallway when I realized I’d forgotten my lab sheet on the desk.

“Shit- I’ll meet you at the quad,” I told Jimin, turning around.

Back in the lab, it was mostly empty. A few students still packing up. She was still there, seated behind her desk, glasses perched low on her nose as she reviewed a stack of papers.

I moved fast, snatching my sheet off the lab table, hoping not to be noticed. But as I turned to leave-

“Mr. Jeon.”

I froze.

She didn’t look up at first. Just made a note on the corner of a page with her pen, so slowly, so deliberately.

Then she looked up.

I swallowed hard. “Y-Yes?”

“You forgot your evaluation sheet.” She held up another paper- my lab report, apparently. “Come get it.”

I stepped forward, trying to walk normal. Trying not to let my legs turn to jelly.

She handed me the paper, but didn’t let go right away. Her eyes flicked up to mine, and for a second, the lab was too quiet.

“Next time,” she said softly, “try to stay present. You were… distracted today.”

“I- I wasn’t- ”

Her eyes dropped to the paper. “I left a comment. You might want to read it… thoroughly.”

My fingers curled around the edge of the sheet as she finally released it. I nodded, heart hammering, and turned to leave before I made a fool of myself again.

Outside, I opened the paper and scanned it.

There it was- her red ink looping elegantly across the bottom of the sheet:

“Try harder next time, Mr. Jeon.

Unless you want me to keep correcting your form.”

I stood there like an idiot, eyes stuck on that one sentence, while every part of me ignited.

“DUDE,” Jimin’s voice suddenly screamed behind me. “Tell me she did not just flirt with you on paper.”

I nearly dropped the sheet.

“Were you spying?!”

“I was walking back to get you,” he said, peering over my shoulder. “Okay, holy shit- that’s not even subtle.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I muttered, though my face was on fire.

“Oh, no. That was a coded message. She wants you to flirt back.”

“I can’t flirt with her,” I hissed. “She’s my professor.”

Jimin grinned like the devil himself. “Exactly. So the question is… are you gonna be a good boy?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

═══════

The next class, I walked in ten minutes early.

I told myself it was just to show responsibility, but really, I just needed to see if she’d say something- if last time meant something. I hadn’t slept much the night before, not with that damn note burning a hole in my backpack and her voice replaying in my head on a loop.

She was already at her desk, sipping coffee and flipping through a folder. She didn’t even glance up when I came in. And somehow, that was worse.

I took my seat. Tried to look normal. Breathed slow. One of those deep, calming breaths I practiced before performances. Except none of that helped when she finally looked up.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, eyes calm, unreadable. “Stay after class today.”

My mouth opened. Nothing came out. Just a tiny squeak of acknowledgment.

═══════

The entire period was a blur. I don’t remember the lab instructions. Don’t remember the worksheet. All I know is that every second felt like it ticked by in slow motion.

When class ended, students poured out, and I stayed seated, hands tight on the edge of the lab bench. My pulse was in my throat.

She closed the door behind the last student and walked back, heels echoing, slow and controlled.

“Follow me.”

I followed her like a dog on a leash.

She led me to the back of the lab where the sink station was. Rows of dirty glassware from the experiments sat there waiting. Beakers. Flasks. Tubes. Endless.

“You’re here to clean,” she said, gesturing with a gloved hand. “You’ve been inattentive. This is extra credit.”

“R-Right,” I muttered, grabbing the soap and nozzle, not daring to look up.

She stood behind me at first, then to the side. Watching. Not saying a word.

The room was dead quiet except for the sound of water and glass tapping gently against the sink. I could feel her eyes burning into me.

After about five minutes of silence, I felt her step closer.

“Are you always this obedient?”

I froze.

“Excuse me?”

“I give you a simple command, and you listen without question,” she said, voice smooth, soft, dangerous. “You haven’t asked what the cleaning is worth. Haven’t asked why. You just… followed.”

I turned my head slightly. “I thought it was an assignment.”

“Is it?” she asked, stepping so close I could see her reflection in the metal faucet. “Or is there another reason you’re so quick to do what I say?”

My grip on the glass tightened.

“I- You said I was distracted. I didn’t want to- ” I stopped talking. My words were unraveling. So was I.

She stepped behind me now, leaning in. I felt her breath again.

“Try not to shatter anything,” she whispered, fingers brushing the inside of my wrist just lightly enough to send sparks up my arm. “Some things are delicate.”

I stood perfectly still.

When she stepped away again, the cold rushed back in.

“Leave them for now,” she said, her voice back to calm. “You’ll come in earlier next week. We’ll continue then.”

“Yes, Professor.”

She walked to the door and opened it without looking back.

“Dismissed.”

I stepped out, legs shaking, barely able to hold my backpack strap.

Jimin was standing just down the hall, leaning against the wall with a smirk like he’d been waiting all day.

“I knew it,” he said.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d start cleaning for free just to breathe her air.”

I didn’t answer.

Because it wasn’t the air I was breathing.

It was her.

═══════

The next week, I arrived fifteen minutes early.

This time, there was no pretending. No “I’m here for extra credit” excuse. I knew what this was. She knew too. I think that was the most dangerous part- how aware we both were, yet no one said it out loud.

She greeted me with a glance. No smile. No words. Just a glance that said, So you came back.

I started cleaning beakers without being told.

Her heels echoed faintly against the tile floor as she moved around the lab, prepping supplies for the day’s experiment. Her silence was more commanding than any speech. I scrubbed, rinsed, dried, my hands shaking slightly despite the repetition. I could still feel her fingertips on my wrist from last time.

After ten minutes, I heard her stop behind me.

“You missed a spot,” she said, stepping forward.

I glanced down at the beaker I was drying. Crystal clear.

“I- I don’t see- ”

She reached over, her fingers brushing mine as she took the beaker from my hands. Then she turned it in the light, her chest barely grazing my arm. I swallowed hard.

“There,” she said softly, pointing at nothing. Her voice dropped. “Or maybe you were just distracted again.”

I couldn’t speak. My entire body had gone still.

“Mr. Jeon,” she murmured, setting the beaker down carefully. “Are you easily distracted… or just easily controlled?”

I flinched.

She smirked. “Interesting.”

Before I could come up with any kind of reply, the first students began to filter into the lab. She stepped away instantly, heels clicking back to the front like nothing happened.

Class went on as usual.

Except nothing was usual anymore.

I couldn’t focus on the experiment. Couldn’t read the formulas. All I could think about was the whisper of her fingers against mine, the way her breath had curled against my neck, the scent of her perfume slowly burning its way into my skull.

When class ended, I packed up slowly, hoping maybe she’d call out to me again. But she didn’t.

I started heading out, heartbeat still a little too loud in my ears.

Then I heard her voice, smooth and quiet.

“Mr. Jeon.”

I turned around.

She was still behind the desk, one hand resting lazily on her notes, eyes calm but unreadable.

“Try harder next time,” she said. “Or I might have to… discipline you.”

My breath hitched.

She didn’t wait for a reply. She bent her head back to her notes like I didn’t exist.

But I did. I existed in every word she’d just said.

I walked out of that room shaking, like my body hadn’t caught up with what my brain had just registered.

Jimin met me outside again. “Well?”

“She said… she might discipline me.”

He choked on his drink. “You mean like… in a grade way?”

I stared blankly at the wall.

“No,” I whispered. “No, I don’t think so.”

═══════

I stared at her office door for a full minute before I knocked.

It was Friday. Cloudy. The kind of gray that sat heavy over the campus, cool air brushing over my skin as I stood alone in the hall, palms sweating despite the chill.

I told myself it was just for help. That I needed to raise my grade. But the truth was, I hadn’t slept right in days. Not since she said the word discipline with that look on her face, like she knew exactly what it did to me.

So here I was. About to walk into the lion’s den like I hadn’t spent all week thinking about her voice in the dark.

I knocked.

“Come in,” she said, calm and clear.

I opened the door slowly. Her office was warm, light filtering in through the half-closed blinds. Shelves of books lined the back wall. Her desk was cluttered in a curated way, like everything had a place, even the chaos.

She was sitting behind it, glasses on, pen in hand. She didn’t look surprised to see me.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, motioning to the seat across from her. “You’re early.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I… wanted to ask about the last lab.”

She nodded, didn’t press.

I sat down.

The chair was low. Too low. Which meant I had to sit up straight to look her in the eye. Which meant I was fully aware of how long her legs looked crossed beneath that desk.

“So,” she said, sliding a paper toward me. “Let’s look at where you went wrong.”

I reached for it, but our hands brushed again.

There it was- that spark.

I swallowed hard and focused on the page. I couldn’t read it. Didn’t even try.

“You need to be more thorough,” she said, voice soft but edged. “You’re sloppy with your ions. Your math is lazy. It’s almost like you’re not trying.”

“I am,” I said quickly. “Trying, I mean. I just- chemistry’s never been- ”

“ -your strength,” she finished for me. Then her voice dropped lower. “I know. That’s why you’re here.”

I looked up.

Her eyes were locked on mine. Unmoving. Calm. Too calm.

The air thickened.

She stood.

Walked around the desk.

Sat on the edge.

Right in front of me.

Her knee nearly touched mine. She didn’t adjust her skirt. Didn’t move back. I could smell her again, something clean and dark, like cedar and sin.

“You want extra credit, Mr. Jeon?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

I nodded, too fast.

Her lips curved just slightly. “Then sit still. And listen carefully.”

I froze.

She leaned in- not touching me, not yet, but close enough that her presence overwhelmed the space between us.

“There are rules,” she whispered. “And you will follow them if you want to pass. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

I blinked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes… Professor.”

I swallowed. “Yes, Professor.”

Then she stood, walked back to her chair, and resumed grading papers like nothing happened.

I sat there stunned, fists clenched in my lap, trying not to burst into flames.

“You’re dismissed,” she said without looking up.

I practically ran out.

And I was still hard when I reached the end of the hall.

═══════

It was a different day. A different lecture.

Same obsession.

I’d managed to make it through most of the class without combusting- barely. She’d worn a black blouse today, sheer enough in the right light to show the outline of her bra if you stared too long. So, of course, I stared too long.

She didn’t call on me during the lesson. Didn’t make eye contact much. But I could feel her awareness in the way she moved, in the quiet control she had over the room.

It made me ache.

When the bell rang, my heart was still thudding like it had spent the whole hour doing laps in my chest. I had one foot out the door when her voice cut through the noise like a wire pulled tight.

“Mr. Jeon.”

I stopped.

Turned.

She was still seated, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly still behind her desk. She didn’t look up right away- just tapped her pen against her lips with that same slow, deliberate rhythm that always did things to me.

“I have one more thing for you,” she said, finally lifting her gaze. “Sit.”

I obeyed, because of course I did.

The classroom was already half-empty, the shuffle of feet and zip of backpacks fading into the hallway as I returned to my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath I took.

She didn’t move from her chair this time. Just watched me, eyes calm but piercing.

“We’re going to do an oral quiz.”

I blinked. “A what?”

“Oral,” she repeated, her tone clipped but soft. “Verbal. Spoken. I ask, you answer. No thinking. Just reaction.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Her eyes locked on mine. “Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” I said.

She leaned back slightly, her voice smooth as silk. “Name the element with the atomic number six.”

“Carbon,” I replied quickly.

“Good,” she said. “And the bond formed between two nonmetals?”

“Covalent.”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “What happens when heat is applied too quickly to a volatile compound?”

“It… it expands. Reacts. Possibly combusts.”

Her voice dropped a note. “That’s right. Too much heat too fast… and things explode.”

I shifted in my seat.

She smiled like she’d seen it.

“Name one quality that makes a reaction irreversible.”

“Time,” I said, before thinking. “Or… exposure to heat. Pressure. Contact.”

She tilted her head. “Interesting. Contact. Do you believe in chain reactions, Mr. Jeon?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I swallowed, her gaze making it hard to think. “Because one thing leads to another. You can’t always stop it once it starts.”

Her smile deepened. “Exactly.”

She stood, slowly walking toward the door as if to signal we were done. But just before she opened it, she turned.

“You’re doing well. But that last lab… you broke two safety rules.”

“I- I didn’t mean-”

She turned toward me, gaze dark and unreadable. 

“One last question.”

I sat straighter.

“What happens,” she said, voice slow and deliberate, “when someone disobeys lab protocol?”

“I- I don’t know,” I stammered.

She stepped closer again, her body just inside my space. But it felt like she was everywhere. On my skin. In my head.

“Discipline,” she whispered, eyes locked on mine.  “Because I expect you to follow rules. My rules.”

Her smile was slow, satisfied.

She reached out and straightened the collar of my hoodie like it had offended her. Her fingers lingered there, just long enough to make my pulse jackhammer in my chest.

“Good boy,” she murmured.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

She opened the door. “That’s all for now. See yourself out.”

And like a complete idiot, I stumbled into the hallway- heart hammering, throat dry, my pants a little too tight and my thoughts a little too wrecked.

Jimin texted the second I hit the quad.

Jimin: you alive?

Jungkook: barely.

Jimin: she kill you or kiss you?

Jungkook: neither.

Jimin: holy shit. that’s worse.

I looked back at the hallway behind me like it might still be on fire.

He was right.

It was worse.

═══════

Two days passed.

Two painfully slow, distracting, blood-rushing-behind-my-eyes kind of days. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way her fingers brushed mine. The way she called me “good boy” like it was a reward. The look she gave when I followed her instructions a little too perfectly.

So when I got the email-

See me during office hours, Thurs. @ 3. – Prof. Y/N

-my stomach dropped.

And soared.

I showed up five minutes early again, pretending not to be nervous. Lying to myself.

She was already there, sipping coffee, sunlight pouring in through her blinds like it had been placed there just for her. She wore another fitted blouse, sleeves rolled to her elbows, the collar just a little looser than it should’ve been.

She didn’t look up when I stepped in.

“Close the door.”

I obeyed.

She motioned to the chair. “Sit.”

This was the same chair. The same air. But everything felt hotter this time. Louder, somehow. My nerves were on fire.

“I reviewed your last lab,” she said. “Better. You’re improving.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She glanced up finally. Her eyes met mine- and held.

“But your focus,” she added, “still needs work.”

I licked my lips. “I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t enough.”

She stood slowly, walked around the desk again- like she was circling me.

My heart picked up.

She leaned one hip against the front of the desk. This time, she didn’t sit. She stood close. Her thigh brushed against my knee, intentional or not- I couldn’t tell.

“You need discipline, Mr. Jeon.”

My breath hitched.

“I- ”

“Not punishment,” she said softly, eyes dipping. “Guidance. You respond to structure, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You follow commands well.”

I shifted. “Maybe I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

That made her smile- barely. It was there and gone like lightning.

Her hand reached out. Not far. Just resting on my knee. Light. Casual.

But not casual.

She leaned in a little. “You like being told what to do, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

She looked down at her fingers on my knee.

Then- 

A knock at the door.

She moved instantly, hand pulling back, body shifting away like nothing had happened.

“Yes?” she called.

The door cracked open.

Jimin’s head poked through. “Yo. Sorry- am I interrupting?”

I nearly choked on my own spit.

Y/N didn’t even blink. “Just finishing up a consult. What do you need, Mr. Park?”

Jimin looked between us, suspicious as hell. “I was just looking for Jungkook. We’ve got rehearsal.”

“Of course,” she said. Perfectly neutral. Professional. “Mr. Jeon, you’re dismissed.”

I stood, face burning, avoiding Jimin’s eyes as I grabbed my backpack.

“Thanks… Professor,” I muttered, voice lower than I meant.

She nodded without looking at me. “Remember what we discussed.”

Oh, I would.

Jimin followed me down the hall, silent for three full seconds before blurting out:

“Did she just touch your knee?”

“Shut up.”

“Bro- are you blushing?”

“I said shut up.”

“She was definitely flirting. I don’t even have a degree in chemistry and I felt that.”

I didn’t reply.

I was still stuck on the way she said discipline like it was a promise.

═══════

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, it was her.

Professor Y/N.

Not in the classroom. Not in her office. But in shadows. Heat. Movement.

The dream didn’t start like a dream. It started like memory- me sitting in her office again, her voice low, asking questions that had nothing to do with science.

Do you always obey this easily, Jungkook?

Would you let me correct you?

And then… her fingers. On my knee. My thigh. Tracing up.

She whispered in my ear, breath hot.

You like it when I’m in control, don’t you?

God, I did. I do.

Her hands slid under my hoodie in the dream- my skin burning under every ghost of her touch. I could feel the fabric of her blouse against my chest. The press of her thigh between mine. The smell of her perfume on my mouth.

She kissed me first.

Soft. Sure.

Then bit my lip when I didn’t kiss back fast enough.

“Speak when spoken to,” she breathed, and something inside me just… gave in.

I wanted to kneel. I wanted to be under her. I wanted to please her in ways that had nothing to do with school.

I woke up in a sweat.

Hard. Shaking. My sheets twisted around my legs like I’d wrestled with them in my sleep. My heart was racing. My hands were clenched.

The clock said 3:12 a.m.

I didn’t sleep again.

═══════

The next day, I walked into class like a man possessed.

Every breath I took, I swore I could smell her. Every word she said echoed like it had two meanings. Her blouse was burgundy today- deep, rich, tight against her body. I couldn’t stop staring.

At one point, I dropped my pen and hit my head on the desk trying to get it. Jimin laughed the entire time.

After class, as I was gathering my things, she walked past my row- slow, unhurried. She didn’t stop, didn’t look at me, just spoke as she passed by:

“Rough night, Mr. Jeon?”

I froze.

My stomach dropped.

I looked up, and she was already across the room.

But her mouth- God, that mouth- had the faintest smile. That same one from the first day.

She knew.

She knew.

And the worst part?

I wanted her to.

═══════

It started with a text.

Not an email. Not a formal request.

A text.

Unknown Number: Are you free after 6pm tonight? I could use help prepping for tomorrow’s lab. -Y/N

My heart jumped. I stared at the screen like it was a glitch.

She had my number?

She was texting me?

I didn’t respond for a full minute. Then I typed:

Jungkook: Yes. I’m free.

Y/N: Room 4A. Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.

I read that last line five times.

By the time 6:00 p.m. rolled around, I was already outside the building. Nervous. Excited. My palms were sweating. I’d changed shirts three times and still didn’t know what I was doing.

The hall was quiet. No students. No voices. Just the distant hum of the custodial staff down the east wing.

Room 4A’s door was slightly cracked.

I pushed it open.

She was already there- back turned, hair up, sleeves rolled. She wore a lab coat this time, but it hung open over a tight gray top and dark jeans. A clipboard was in one hand, a box of glassware in the other.

The room was dimmer than usual. Only a few overhead lights flicked on. It felt… intimate. Like the space was smaller somehow. Thicker.

She didn’t look at me right away.

“You’re on time,” she said simply, setting the glassware down on the counter. “I like that.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night anyway,” I muttered.

She smiled at that. Not her professor-smile. Her real one. The one I barely got glimpses of.

“I need to reorganize the distillation setup for the freshmen lab tomorrow,” she said, pulling a drawer open. “You’re here to help. Not talk.”

That was fair.

I nodded and slipped my bag off.

She handed me a pair of gloves and motioned toward the back table. “Start unpacking those. Carefully.”

I obeyed.

We moved around each other for several minutes in silence. She handed me tools. I passed her clamps. We barely touched, but every time our fingers brushed, I felt it. The air between us buzzed.

I couldn’t stop glancing at her. At how effortless she looked, focused, eyes sharp, mouth pressed into a faint line as she worked. She didn’t speak, but her presence filled every inch of the lab. It was suffocating in the best way possible. 

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

Halfway through setting up a condenser tube, when I was just starting to relax- I dropped the clamp.

It hit the floor with a loud, sharp clatter.

“Shit,” I hissed, crouching to grab it.

She turned. Looked down at me.

When I stood, she was suddenly closer than before.

Right in front of me.

Our bodies weren’t touching, but they could’ve been.

“You always this clumsy when you’re nervous?” she asked quietly.

I stared at her. Swallowed.

“Only around you.”

That did something. Her eyes changed. She didn’t step back.

“I see.”

The silence stretched.

The lab felt too warm now.

She looked down at my hands still holding the clamp and reached out, curling her fingers over mine. Slow. Deliberate. Not necessary.

“You need steadier hands if you’re going to handle glass,” she said, her voice like velvet with a hidden blade.

I didn’t breathe.

Her fingers lingered.

Then let go.

“Try again,” she said, stepping back.

I did.

But my hands were still shaking.

═══════

It happened so fast I couldn’t stop it.

One moment, I was reaching for the beaker. The next, it slipped.

It hit the floor and shattered, glass slicing through silence like lightning.

“Shit,” I muttered, instinctively reaching down-

“Don’t.”

Her voice stopped me mid-motion.

I froze.

She walked over slowly. Calm. Deliberate. Her heels echoed off the tile with a rhythm that sounded too controlled for how chaotic I felt.

“No gloves,” she said, crouching instead. “You’ll cut yourself.”

I stepped back, watching as she gathered the larger pieces of glass with her gloved hands and the dustpan. Methodical. Controlled.

And then she looked up.

Directly at me.

From where she was crouched.

And suddenly- everything in me tightened.

The angle. Her eyes tilted up. The way her hair had fallen forward over one shoulder. Her lips parted just slightly, breath steady. Calm.

But her gaze?

Her gaze was not .

I tried not to think about it. Tried not to imagine what she looked like in that exact position with her hands somewhere else entirely.

But the thought had already sunk its claws in.

“You’re red,” she said quietly, eyes locked on mine.

I blinked.

“What?”

“Your ears,” she murmured. “They’re flushed.”

I swallowed. Hard.

“I-It’s warm in here.”

Her lips quirked, barely there.

Then she stood.

Not with her usual fluid grace.

She braced one hand on my thigh - my thigh - to push herself up.

Slowly.

Her palm lingered. Pressed. Fingers firm against my jeans.

My legs nearly gave out.

By the time she was standing, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She brushed her hands off and looked me over like I was something breakable.

“You always this easy to fluster, Mr. Jeon?”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

She leaned in slightly- just enough.

“I told you to be careful,” she said, her voice low. “But maybe you like messing up in front of me.”

I exhaled shakily. “I don’t.”

“You sure?” she asked, tilting her head.

Her fingers smoothed something imaginary off my shoulder.

Then she stepped back.

“Replace the beaker,” she said, like we were still just doing science.

But my heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she touched me.

I did what she asked. Quiet. Shaky.

And the whole time, I swore I could still feel her hand on my leg.

═══════

The silence was worse now.

Not awkward. Not cold.

Just… full.

I kept replaying the last five minutes like they were stuck on loop. Her crouched at my feet. The way she looked up at me like I was already undone. The weight of her hand on my thigh- intentional, firm, completely unignorable.

And then her calm retreat. Like she hadn’t just pulled the floor out from under me.

She was across the lab now, rearranging clamps and burners with absolute focus. Like I wasn’t still standing here burning alive.

I turned away. Faced the counter. Tried to look useful.

Then I heard her voice again.

“You follow instructions well,” she said casually.

It wasn’t a compliment.

It was a knife, slipped between my ribs with a smile.

“I try to,” I muttered.

“You don’t question them. You don’t push back. You just… obey.”

I swallowed. “Is that bad?”

“No,” she said, stepping closer again. “It’s just revealing.”

“Revealing how?”

She tilted her head. “Some people follow rules because they fear consequences.”

Her fingers reached for the flask beside me, brushing my arm.

“Others,” she continued, voice lower now, “follow because they enjoy being told what to do.”

I didn’t breathe.

“Which one are you, Jungkook?”

“I- I don’t know.”

She smiled. “I think you do.”

Her hand stayed near mine on the counter. Not touching. Just… there.

“You like when I give you tasks,” she said. “You like my voice when it’s low. Firm.”

I couldn’t deny it.

“You want structure,” she whispered. “Permission. Direction.”

My mouth was dry. My brain was static.

“Am I wrong?”

I shook my head.

“Say it,” she said softly.

“No,” I murmured. “You’re not wrong.”

She looked at me for a long time then. Not smiling. Just… watching.

“I wonder,” she said, almost to herself. “If you’d let me break you. If I told you to.”

She stepped back, finally.

The room felt colder without her body near mine.

“Turn off the burner. We’re done for tonight.”

Just like that. Command issued. Game reset.

I reached for the switch with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.

═══════

It wasn’t the same night.

It was two days later.

Another text. Short. Controlled.

Y/N: Back lab. 7PM. No distractions.

I stared at the message for a full minute, heart thudding like a war drum. Then I dropped everything, grabbed my bag, and left.

Now it was 7:03, and I was standing just inside Room 4A again, the door closing behind me, pulse in my throat.

The lights were low. Only the overheads near the back counter were on.

She was there.

Wearing black. Black blouse. Black pants. No lab coat this time. Just her. Dark and stunning and sharp as glass.

“You’re late,” she said without looking up.

“Three minutes.”

“Too many.”

I swallowed.

“You want to be here?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Professor.”

She finally looked up. Her eyes landed on mine like a slow caress.

“Good,” she said. “Then listen carefully.”

She crossed the room toward me.

Each step deliberate. Soundless.

She stopped close- so close my breath hitched.

Her hand came up, brushing the edge of my jaw, trailing lightly.

“I don’t want to lecture tonight,” she said softly. “I don’t want to correct your form or watch you drop glass.”

I said nothing.

Her thumb brushed my bottom lip.

“I want you quiet. Focused. Obedient.”

“I will be.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be good,” I whispered.

That made her smile.

She leaned in.

And kissed me.

This time, I kissed her back with everything in me.

No hesitation.

No fear.

Just months of tension crashing out of me in one dizzying moment of need.

Her hands threaded through my hair, fingers gripping tight. My mouth opened against hers, desperate, hungry, but still waiting- for her. Letting her lead.

She bit my lip, hard enough to make me gasp.

“Too eager,” she murmured.

“I can be patient.”

“We’ll see.”

She spun me gently, pressing me back against the wall beside the door. Her thigh slid between mine. My hips moved before I could stop them.

Her mouth moved to my neck, biting, tasting.

I couldn’t stop the groan that slipped out.

She laughed softly against my skin.

“You like this.”

“I love this.”

She pulled back, eyes dark.

“Lock the door.”

I turned, hands shaking but sure this time, flipped the lock with a solid click.

When I faced her again, she was unbuttoning the top of her blouse- slow, deliberate, still in control.

“You’ve been patient, Jungkook,” she said, stepping toward me again. “Now I want to see how well you listen.”

My mouth was dry. “Yes, Professor.”

She smiled. Dark. Beautiful. Unapologetic.

And then she kissed me again, deeper this time, walking me backward until I hit the lab table.

Her hands roamed my chest, my hips, controlling every inch of the space between us.

And I let her.

No part of me wanted control.

All I wanted was her.

═══════

This was happening.

And I was so far gone, I couldn’t even pretend I didn’t want it.

She kissed me hard this time- no testing, no waiting. Just heat. Her hands tugged at the hem of my shirt, sliding it up, palms skating over my bare stomach.

I shivered. She felt it.

“Cold?” she asked, lips against my neck.

“No,” I breathed. “Not even close.”

Her smile curved against my skin.

“Good.”

She pressed her body against mine, pinning me between the table and her frame. Every part of her was deliberate. Her hips against mine, her thigh back between my legs, her hand on my chest.

And then- lower.

My breath hitched.

She moved slowly, tasting every inch of my throat with her mouth, her tongue, her teeth.

Her hand slipped behind my neck, gripping tight as she kissed me again. I kissed back harder, bolder this time. I couldn’t stop my hands anymore- I reached for her waist, pulling her in, finally touching her like I’d imagined in a thousand sleepless nights.

She didn’t stop me.

She leaned in- more. Pressed her hips against mine, rolled them once, just to watch me lose it.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

“I’m not used to this.”

“No one’s ever touched you like this?”

“Not like you.”

She paused at that. Then she smiled, dark and slow.

“Good.”

Her blouse was undone now- button by button falling away, and her bra was dark lace, tight against her skin, and I swore I nearly lost my mind.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low.

I nodded.

“No,” I said honestly. “But I want it.”

“You want me?”

“God, yes.”

“Say it.”

“I want you.”

“Louder.”

“I want you, Professor.”

That was it.

She pushed me back onto the table, climbed over me with nothing but control in her eyes.

My hands gripped the edge. My whole body tense, vibrating, desperate.

She leaned down, nose brushing mine.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Now be quiet. Let me take care of you.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she slowly lowered herself, her lips brushing mine before trailing down my jawline. 

Her hands, soft yet firm, gripped my shoulders, holding me in place as if she knew I’d try to pull her closer. 

Her mouth moved lower, her tongue tracing the line of my neck, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, but she noticed, her lips curling into a smirk against my skin. 

“Shh,” she murmured, her breath hot against my chest. “Let me hear you.”

Her fingers trailed down my chest, light and teasing, before settling on the waistband of my jeans. 

I held my breath as she unbuttoned them, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving mine. She pushed them down, her hands brushing against my thighs, her touch sending a jolt of heat straight to my cock. 

I was already hard, my cock straining against my boxers, and her gaze dropped to it, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” she teased, her fingers hooking into the elastic of my boxers. 

I bit my lip, my body trembling with need. She pulled them down, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of me, her breath hitching. 

“So eager,” she whispered, her voice laced with approval.

Her hands wrapped around me, her touch firm but gentle, her fingers tracing the length of my shaft. I groaned, my head falling back against the table, my hands clenching the edges as she began to stroke me. 

Her touch was slow, deliberate, her thumb brushing over the head, spreading the pre-cum that had already gathered. 

“You like that, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a sultry purr.

“Yes,” I managed, my voice hoarse, my body already on edge.

She quickened her pace, her hand moving in a steady rhythm, her other hand cupping my balls, massaging them gently. 

“Tell me how much you want it,” she demanded, her voice commanding.

“I want it so bad Professor,” I gasped, my hips bucking slightly against her hand. “Please, don’t stop.”

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down my spine. 

“Such a good boy,” she praised, her hand tightening around me. “But we’re not done yet.”

Her mouth descended, her lips wrapping around the head of my cock, her tongue swirling in a way that made my vision blur. 

I moaned, my hands tangling in her hair but not daring to add any pressure, my body arching off the table. She hummed, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me, her hand continuing to stroke me in sync with her mouth.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice breaking. “That’s- that’s amazing.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Is it?” she asked, her voice teasing. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good,” I panted, my body trembling on the edge. “Your mouth- i-it’s perfect.”

She smiled, her lips stretching around me again, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. I was close, so close, my body tense, every nerve ending screaming for release. 

But just as I was about to cum, she slowed, her hand easing, her mouth pulling away.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over my sensitive skin. “Not until I say so.”

I whimpered, my body aching with need, my cock throbbing with frustration. She kissed the tip, her tongue flicking teasingly before she began again, her mouth and hand working in perfect harmony. 

I was a mess, my moans filling the room, my body completely at her mercy.

“Please,” I begged, my voice desperate. “Let me cum.  Please.”

She chuckled, the sound vibrating through me, her hand tightening around me. 

“Not yet, baby,” she murmured. “I want to see how long you can last.”

Her mouth took me deeper, her throat closing around me, her hand stroking in time with her movements. 

I was losing it, my body trembling, my breath coming in short gasps. “I- I can’t- ”

She pulled back again, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she praised, her hand slowing. “But not yet.”

I groaned, my body aching, my cock throbbing with unfulfilled desire. She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot against my skin. 

“Tell me how much you want to come,”she whispered, her voice a seductive command.

“I want it so bad,” I gasped, my body trembling. “I need to come. Please Professor, let me cum.”

She smiled, her lips curving against my skin, her hand beginning to move again, slow and torturous. 

“Soon, baby,” she promised, her voice a soft whisper. “But first, let’s see how close we can get.”

Her mouth took me again, her hand working in perfect sync, her tongue swirling, her throat tightening around me. 

I was a mess, my body on the brink, my moans filling the room. She edged me again, bringing me to the edge, only to pull back, her hand easing, her mouth leaving me throbbing and desperate.

“Professor,” I whimpered, my body trembling, my cock aching with need. “Please, I can’t take much more.”

She chuckled, her hand wrapping around me once more, her mouth descending, her tongue tracing the head. 

“One more time,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. “And then, maybe, I’ll let you cum.”

Her mouth took me deep, her hand stroking in time, her throat tightening around me. I was lost, my body surrendering to her, my moans turning into incoherent pleas. She worked me relentlessly, her mouth and hand in perfect harmony, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Professor, I’m- I’m gonna- ”

Her mouth tightened around me, her hand speeding up, her tongue swirling in a way that made my vision blur. 

I cried out, my body tensing, every muscle straining as I teetered on the edge, my cock throbbing with an almost painful need.

“Cum for me, baby,” she whispered, her voice a command. “Let it go.”

I shattered, my body convulsing, my cock pulsing as I came, my release hot and intense, my moans filling the room. 

Her mouth milked me, her hand squeezing gently, her tongue swirling as she drew every last drop from me. I was in ruins, my body limp, my breath coming in ragged gasps as she finally pulled away, her lips curved in a satisfied smile.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her hand stroking my chest, her eyes soft and admiring. 

She positioned herself above me, her scent enveloped me- a mix of her perfume, her skin, and something uniquely her that made my head spin. Her skirt hiked up, revealing she had nothing underneath, and I felt my breath hitch. 

She was a vision- her body perfectly framed by the soft light of the room, her full breasts rising and falling with her steady breaths.

She leaned back slightly, her hands resting on my chest, her eyes never leaving mine. 

“You’ve been a very good boy, Jungkook,” she said, her tone teasing yet filled with approval. “You deserve a reward.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Yes, Professor,” I murmured, my voice hoarse with desire. 

The way she called me good boy made me feel both proud and submissive, a combination that only heightened my arousal.

“Eat me out properly,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with desire.

She hovered there for a moment, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes searching mine for any hesitation. I held her gaze, my eagerness evident, and she let out a soft sigh of satisfaction before lowering herself onto me.

The first touch of her warmth against my lips was electric. 

I groaned softly, my hands instinctively moving to her thighs, holding her in place as I began to explore her with my mouth. 

She tasted sweet, her arousal coating my tongue as I lapped at her eagerly. Her hands tangled in my hair, guiding me, her moans filling the air as I worked my way deeper, my tongue tracing patterns against her sensitive flesh.

“Oh, Jungkook,” she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure. “You’re so good at this. So eager to please me.”

Her words fueled my desire, and I moaned against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. 

She shifted slightly, her hips rocking against my mouth as she sought more friction, more pressure. I hummed softly, my hands squeezing her thighs gently, and she gasped, her nails digging into my scalp.

“Do you like that, baby?” she asked, her voice laced with dominance. “Do you like making me feel good?”

I nodded, my mouth still buried between her legs, and she laughed softly, a sound that was equal parts amusement and pleasure. 

“Answer me, Jungkook,” she commanded, her tone firm.

I lifted my head slightly, my lips brushing against her as I spoke. “Yes, Professor,” I murmured. “I love it. I love making you feel good.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “Good boy,” she repeated, her voice a soft caress. “Now keep going. Make me cum.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. 

I dove back in, my tongue working tirelessly, my lips sucking gently as I focused on every inch of her. 

She was so responsive, her moans growing louder, her body trembling with each stroke of my tongue. Her hands tightened in my hair, her hips bucking against my mouth as she chased her release.

“Faster, Jungkook,” she panted, her voice urgent. 

I complied, my movements becoming more frantic, my mouth devouring her as she teetered on the edge. Her breath came in sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared her climax. 

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I kept going, my tongue flicking, my lips sucking, until she finally shattered around me, her body convulsing as she cried out my name. Her hands clenched in my hair, her hips pressing down hard as she rode out her orgasm, her release coating my tongue. 

I drank her in, savoring her taste, her scent, the feel of her trembling body against mine.

When she finally stilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she pushed herself up, her eyes wild with need. “I’m not done with you.”

Before I could protest, she slid down my body, her hands pushing my thighs apart. 

Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she straddled my hips, skirt bunching up to her waist. I could feel her warmth against my hardness, and I groaned, my hands reaching for her, only to be batted away.

“Hands to yourself, Jungkook,” she chided, her tone low and firm. “Or you won’t get to cum.”

I nodded, my chest heaving as she positioned herself above me, her hands gripping my wrists and pinning them to the table. 

Her eyes locked onto mine, full of challenge and desire, as she lowered herself onto me. I hissed at the sensation, my cock sliding into her tight heat, her walls clenching around me like a vice.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice rough. “You feel so good.”

She smirked, her hips beginning to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Do I now? Tell me, Jungkook. How bad do you want to cum?”

“So bad,” I gasped, my body tensing as she rode me, her movements controlled, teasing. “Please, let me-”

“Not yet,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “You’re not in control here. I am.”

Her words sent a jolt of arousal through me, and I whimpered, my hips bucking against her. 

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips hovering over mine. “You’re mine to play with, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice hoarse. “Yours.”

She pulled back, her hands gripping my shoulders as she increased her pace, her movements becoming more urgent. I could feel her tightening around me, her breath coming in short gasps, and I knew she was close.

“Cum for me,” I pleaded, my voice desperate. “Let me make you feel good.”

She shook her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Not yet. I’m going to edge you, Jungkook. Make you beg for it.”

Her words were like a spark, igniting a fire in my veins. 

She slowed her movements, her hips grinding against me in a torturous rhythm, pushing me to the brink but pulling back before I could climax. I groaned, my body trembling, my cock throbbing with need.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “Let me cum.”

“She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, “You’re so close, aren’t you? So desperate.”

“Yes,” I gasped, my hands gripping the table as she pushed me further, her body moving in a way that made me see stars. “Professor, I can’t-”

“Shh,” she soothed, her lips pressing against mine in a soft kiss. “I’ll help you.”

She quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with mine, and I felt her climax building, her walls fluttering around me. 

I groaned, my hips thrusting up to meet her, and she cried out, her head falling back as she came, her body shaking.

“Fuck,” I murmured, my voice thick with desire. “That feels so good.”

She rode out her orgasm, her movements slowing as she leaned against me, her breath ragged. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her body still trembling from the force of her release.

“Your turn,” she whispered, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. “But only if you’re a good boy.”

I nodded eagerly, my body aching for release. She shifted, her hands gripping my hips as she guided my movements, her pace relentless. I groaned, my body tensing as I felt myself building, my cock throbbing with the promise of release.

“Y/N,” I gasped, my voice desperate. “I’m close.”

“Not yet,” she teased, her voice playful. “One more time. I want to hear you beg.”

I whimpered, my body trembling as she slowed her movements, pushing me to the edge once more. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “Let me cum.”

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Yours,” I breathed, my voice hoarse. “I’m yours, Professor. Please, let me cum.”

Her smile softened, and she leaned down, her lips pressing against mine in a tender kiss. “Good boy,” she murmured. “Now cum for me.”

Her words were my undoing. 

I cried out, my body arching as I climaxed, my cock pulsing inside her as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. 

She held me close, her hands stroking my hair as I rode out my orgasm, my body trembling with the intensity of it.

And then it was quiet.

The room hummed with leftover heat. My heartbeat still thundered in my chest.

I lay there, dazed and open, blinking up at the ceiling like it might know what came next.

She didn’t rush.

She just leaned down, her skin warm against mine, and kissed my collarbone- soft and slow.

Then she murmured in my ear, voice calm, unreadable:

“Don’t think this changes the rules.”

═══════

♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 05/28/2025

[enmi-land]

ʬʬʬ 𝓨OUTUBE.COM ▹ NOW PLAYiNG . . .

ⓘ MiLA AND HER FAVOURiTE OPPA . . .

(˶ˆᗜˆ˵) FANMADE ViDEO. #2O24. ꗃ PREViEW A compilation of Mila being babygirl for Jay.

CLIP 1, INTERVIEW

for context: mila and kiara were asked who they thought the most manly member is in the group

“Uhhh, I don’t know about that.” Kiara laughs awkwardly at the idea. “I’m older than almost all of them, and I grew up with Heeseung since we were kids, so it’s hard to say. I don’t really… you know?”

“Ah, fair enough. They’re kind of like younger brothers, right? That would be awkward.” The interview nods in understanding when Kiara confirms. “In that case, what about Mila? Maybe not for the younger members, but you must have thought about your oppas, right?”

“Well…” Mila laughs shyly as her members all turn to face her. “They all have their charms. But when I think of the word ‘masculine,’ the first person I think of is none other than my Jay-oppa.”

The interviewer is surprised when Engenes watching the interview live start to scream at the top of their lungs. “Oooooh! I see—Jay seems very happy about this.”

The focus is now on Jay, who is smiling widely beside Mila while she hides her face behind her hand in embarrassment.

me and the ghost in my room: [*Theo slapping Keeho on the shoulder*]

“Now I’m curious. What makes you pick Jay, of all the members?”

“Well,” Mila says shyly, avoiding Jay’s gaze as he stares softly at her. “Ever since we met, he’s taken very good care of me—not that the other members don’t, but sometimes we have those times where we tease each other and all of that stuff. You know?”

The interviewer nods. “You like to play around, yes? Close friends who tease each other.”

Mila nods strongly. “Exactly like that! Jay-oppa isn’t like that, though. He’s a real gentleman. He’s always very gentle, and soft-spoken, and patient. He’s like the type of person people want their daughters to marry...”

And then Mila proceeds to hide her face behind Jay as Engenes go wild over their interaction. All the while, Jay can’t help the absolutely whipped look on his face as he smiles like an idiot.

[*Close up of Jay*] [“Boy who got you smiling like that?”]

CLIP 2, COMPILATION

to give you an idea of mila’s favouritism, let’s see the difference between mila with each of the 02z mila with jakehoon:

K-NEXT DOOR

“I was watching some of your clips, and I noticed something interesting,” Jonathan says. “Mila, you’re a 03-liner, right?”

Mila blinks. “Yes, that’s right.”

Jonathan turns to Jake. “Jake, you’re a 02-liner.”

Jake nods.

“In that case… Mila—why don’t you call Jake ‘oppa’?”

Mila bursts out laughing as if she’s just heard the funniest thing in her life, before she composes herself and turns to Jonathan. “Well, for one, we’re both foreigners and speak English when we’re alone. I got used to calling him by name, so it feels weird to call him oppa. And for another, it feels weird to call him my oppa when he doesn’t act like one.”

Jake looks at Mila in absolute shock as Jonathan’s jaw drops. Heeseung and Jungwon giggle among themselves, and Jake nods solemnly at the camera with his lips pressed into a thin line.

[*Close up of Jake with raining overlay*] [“Gwenchana, gwenchana, daeng daeng daeng daeng daeng.”]

WEVERSE LIVE

“The other day, I realised that I’m only three months younger than Sunghoonie-oppa,” Mila says all of a sudden. “Isn’t that so weird? I might as well be his friend, but he’s still considered my elder because he’s born in 2002. It’s so unfair…”

Mila pouts as she reads comments. “‘Just don’t call him ‘oppa’?” Mila laughs. “Right. I should just call him ‘Sunghoon-ssi’ from now on, haha. Or ‘Sunghoon-hyung.’ Can you imagine his expression? It would be funny…”

Mila bursts out laughing as she reads a comment.

“‘Just call him Sunghoon’? Yahhh, you’re trying to get me in trouble.” Mila looks thoughtful for a second after she says this. “But then again, I don’t really care if it’s Sunghoonie-oppa. He can just be mad at me, for all I care.”

She leans towards the camera with a cheeky smile.

“Should I do it, everyone?”

spoiler alert: she does it [*Compilation of Mila saying ‘Sunghoon-ssi’*]

[*Close up of Sunghoon’s reactions*] [“I never found you funny, I never found you entertaining—”]

[*Spongebob Narration* ‘Meanwhile’*] mila with jay:

EN-LOG

Mila is in the middle of eating at a restaurant when she receives a call. She looks at her phone to see who it is, and lights up when she sees the contact. She gasps excitedly. “Everyone, it's Jay-oppa!”

She shows her phone to the screen to see the contact which she saved him under: ‘the bestest oppa 😇’

(This is before they even date, mind you.)

[*Close up of Mila’s phone*] “THE BESTEST OPPA” 🤭✨

[*Cardi B squinting* “That’s suspicious, that’s weird.”]

She picks up the call and holds it to hear ear. In a cutesy voice that is out of character for Mila, she leans back in her chair and smiles, completely forgoing her food. “Hello?”

“What are you doing?” Jay asks.

“I’m just having lunch now.” Mila reaches up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. “How about Oppa?”

mila whenever jay: [*Nayeon tucking her hair behind her ear*]

Jay hums. “That’s good. I came across a new chocolate store just now. I’m going to take a look now. Do you want me to buy you anything?”

[EN-Log captions: ‘Jay-oppa is too good to me ❤️’]

And from there, the two have a sweet phone call, with Mila looking like a giddy teenage girl as she talks.

“Mmm, okay,” Mila says as they reach the end of their call, but not without a pout. “I’ll let you go, then.”

“Get back home safely, okay? Call if you need anything.” Jay’s voice is soft, and Mila is smiling as she assures him that she will do as he says. “You hang up first.”

[EN-Log captions: ‘Jay-oppa, why are you so sweet to me? I’ll cry :(’]

Mila giggles. “Okay, okay. Bye bye~” She still smiles at her phone, even after she hangs up. She then turns to the camera and smiles. “Everyone, isn't my Jay-oppa the sweetest?”

“MY JAY-OPPA” 😫

jakehoon watching this: [“I just wanna be appreciated! I wanna be appreciated!”]

CLIP 3, WEVERSE LIVE

“‘Jay, will you marry me’?!”

[*Boom*]

Mila is flabbergasted after she reads out the comment, and looks up at the camera with a look of absolute incredulous indignation. Jay simply laughs at her expression. “Why, why? What’s with your expression?”

“No!” Mila says with a huff. “You can’t marry him!”

Jay looks amused as Mila glares at the camera, trying to intimidate. “Shouldn’t I have a say?”

“You can’t.” Mila latches onto his arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “There’s only one Jay-oppa in the world, everyone else can go find their own.”

[“Hold up! Wait a minute! Something’s not right!”][*Mirage effect*]

mila when engenes ask to marry ni-ki [*Mila saying, “Haha. Good luck with that. He’s a lot to handle.”*]

mila now: [*Mirage effect*]

“But you have to share with Engenes,” Jay says amusedly.

Mila turns to him with a pout and a signature pair of babydoll eyes that she always seems to wear around him—and which he’ll always fold to. “Tell them to ask someone else.”

🤨 [*Dwayne Johnson raising an eyebrow*]

Jay simply chuckles and turns to the camera. “Sorry, I can’t get married to you because our Mila doesn’t approve. You have to ask someone else to be your husband.” He looks back down at Mila. “Happy?”

Mila nods. She then proceeds to continue clinging onto his arm for the rest of the live, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she looks at her with a gaze that could melt butter.

🦋🦋🦋

CLIP 4, COMPILATION

This is basically just Mila getting shy and avoiding Jay’s gaze whenever she makes eye contact with him. It’s like she physically can’t handle looking into his eyes or she’ll be sucked into a vacuum.

mila when jay looks at her: [“Oh no, I hope I don’t fall.”]

CLIP 5, COMPILATION

proof that mila is jay’s baby part 298192: she always runs to jay when she needs something

EN-TER KEY

Mila realises she made a mistake during monitoring and looks at the camera. “I messed up…”

She doesn’t seem bothered by it because she laughs. But as a few seconds pass, she seems visibly worried as she avoids eye contact with the camera and looks away more than once, as if to use her face.

(This was during a period of time not longer after debut, where she was receiving immense hate for supposedly debuted without any talent.) 

But then she seems to crack and turns her back to the camera, before making a beeline in a certain direction. As the cameraman follows her, they end up finding Jay, who is seated on a couch in the dressing room.

He immediately stands up upon seeing Mila, and worriedly asks her what’s wrong. He opens his arms to her and she immediately walks into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder.

He brings a hand to her head and whispers something in her ear which the cameras don’t catch. But its clear that he’s doing his best to cocker her and shield her from the camera’s view.

EN-DIARIES

Mila is tasked with the mission of giving a member a makeover, which she complains will be entirely impossible to do for any of them. But then she decides to approach Jay, and follows him around the place, asking him (and only him) for help.

“Oppa, can you help me just this once?” Mila grabs onto his sleeve and tugs it to her. “Please?”

Jay pretends to ignore her, instead busying himself with looking inside the fridge. But instead of giving up and asking one of the other members, she persists, and does everything from clinging, whining, to even pretending to be upset.

“I’ve been rejected,” she mopes in the living room, purposely speaking loud enough for Jay to hear her. “No one loves me anymore.”

At this, Jay seems ro reach the end of his straw, and laughs to himself as he makes his way over to the sulking Mila on the couch. To keep the long story short, Mila eventually sits him down and happily puts a ribbon in his hair, while commenting how cute he looks.

SO SO FUN

Mila is in the middle of cooking something in the kitchen when she notices that something is a bit off. She gasps when she realises she forgot to add an ingredient, and starts to panic that she might have ruined the whole dish.

The first thing she does is take off to find Jay. “Oppa, are you busy?”

Jay looks at her with his full attention. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Mila looks slightly embarrassed and stands closer to Jay, with a hand slightly covering her mouth. He leans down closer as she basically whispers, “I made a mistake with the food. I think I messed it up…”

Jay, to his credit, seems unpaused. “Show me. We’ll see if we can fix it.”

Mila points out the food when she gets for the kitchen, looking disappointed as she walks Jay through every step she took. “Sorry,” she says with a frown as she finishes. “I’m so clumsy…”

“No, no, don’t apologise,” Jay reassures softly. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and places a comforting hand on her head. “We can still fix it. Come here, I’ll show you what to do if it happens again.”

MISCELLANEOUS

And again, Mila can be seen asking for his help or his comfort when she needs something, which he responds to like a hero to the rescue at every occasion. It’s really no surprise that he’s her favourite oppa. (Or so, JayMi shippers like to claim—just don’t let the MiSeung fans know.)

© ENMI-LAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST.

taglist⠀( OPEN ! ) ⦂ @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars @tommina @queenriki7 @onlyuyu

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Quest Continues...

(part 1- part 2)

[unorideul]

seungcheol is the type of bf to tuck your hair behind your ears or stroke your locks as you rant to him about how stressful your day went while maintaining eye contact, making sure you know his full attention is on you

[svt-demi]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀PROFILE ୨ৎ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ masterlist

── 𖦹︎ BASIC INFORMATION . . .

STAGE NAME ; demi

BIRTH NAME ; demitra kyra kang

KOREAN NAME ; kang minji

BIRTHDATE ; june 28 , 1998

BIRTHPLACE ; brisbane , queensland ( australia )

ETHNICITY ; australian - korean - greek

MBTI ; isfp

── 𖦹︎ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE . . .

HEIGHT ; 168cm ( 5’6 )

WEIGHT ; 44kg

EYE COLOUR ; brown

NATURAL HAIR COLOUR ; dark brown

PIERCINGS ; 5 ear piercings ( 3 lobe , 1 helix , 1 flat )

TATTOOS ; 2 ( semicolon on her left wrist , star on her shoulder )

── 𖦹︎ LANGUAGES . . .

ENGLISH ; 100% ( mother tongue )

KOREAN ; 80%

GREEK ; 55%

JAPANESE ; 30%

── 𖦹︎ CLAIMS . . .

FACE CLAIM ; winter ( aespa )

VOCAL CLAIM ; winter ( aespa )

RAP CLAIM ; exy ( wjsn )

DANCE CLAIM ; momo ( twice )

── 𖦹︎ CAREER . . .

OCCUPATION ; kpop idol , model , brand ambassador

GROUP ; seventeen

COMPANY ; pledis entertainment

DEBUT ; may 26, 2015

TRAINEE PERIOD ; 1 year 7 months

SUB UNIT ; performance

BRANDS ; miu miu , valentino , flower knows , amuse

REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI ; 🐼

[foldingfittedsheets]

Ok so when the monster starts either visibly limping, or has a skull icon on the mini map (which should be at about 30% total health threshold), it’s ready to capture. You can do this by getting one of two traps, the pitfall trap or electric shock trap. Both are craftable, but might be given at the start of the mission in EZ form. Then, while it’s sprawling around in those, throw some tranq bombs at its head. This should work. You can do this in the opposite order as well!

See I did this! But I think “visibly limping” is just like. Not enough. I killed it the first two times and it never limped, even when fleeing. Even when it’s limping I drop a shock trap and tranq its face and just. Nothin.

I just did an expedition to see how much I can beat the shit out of this thing before capturing and we’ll see.

I’ve literally failed this mission five times.

[philiponmycracker]

Random gifs of painfully gorgeous darling baby Tom as young Frank, "Forget-Me-Not Lane" (1974)

[velvetwyrme]

👀💦!!

I was talking about farmers market shenanigans in the future of Flipping Fate with @collegecomics18 a while back and well... I had to doodle some of the ideas we had. (Stretch brings Edge and the reader along with him, and everyone at the market SWOONS @ them both. Sorry Stretch...)

[eriyu]

oops!!!!!!!! accidentally caught the script up to msq!!!!

i honestly did not think this was going to be possible with the amount of time left after i finished 6.0, but here we are!!!!!!!

the entire msq, at your fingertips!!!!!!!!!

please know that i will NOT be doing dawntrail's MSQ immediately after it drops though. i want to enjoy playing through for the first time without making it into a job. i hope to get to it before TOO too long, though 💖

[jkwrites-m]

Extra Credit (2)

Pairing: uni student!Jungkook x uni teacher!female reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 10.2k

Summary: Jungkook falls for his professor. She makes the rules - and he loves breaking them.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, cursing, dom!female reader, sub!Jungkook, age gap (both 18+), sexual tension, power imbalance, fixation, power play, emotional manipulation, obsession, explicit: dom/sub dynamics, slight switch, kissing, m. masturbation, fingering, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected sex, edging, pet names (good boy 🙂‍↕️😌), wall sex,

A/N: as per request, i made a part 2! I KNOW that i should do a part 3, but i’m stuck at a crossroads for this couple (do we want a happy or sad ending??? Idk!!!)

MASTERPOST ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

prev ♡ ???

═══════

I was walking like I’d been hit by a truck.

Not in pain. Not exactly.

Just… ruined.

Mentally. Physically. Spiritually.

My legs had the coordination of cooked noodles. My brain was one long static buzz of she kissed me there and she said good boy and I fucking moaned.

I stepped out of the chem building and didn’t even notice it was raining.

I pulled out my phone with hands that were still slightly shaking.

Jungkook: bro

Jungkook: be awake when i get back

Jungkook: dead serious

Jungkook: i need you

Jimin read receipts lit up instantly.

Jimin: what the fuck did u do

Jimin: who do i have to bury

Jimin: are you bleeding

I ignored him.

Just started walking.

Twenty minutes later, I pushed into our shared dorm room, soaked from head to toe, and dropped my bag like it owed me money.

Jimin was sitting on the floor with a slice of pizza in one hand and a face mask half-smeared on.

“Dude,” he said, “what the ACTUAL-”

“I need water,” I said, cutting him off, heading straight to the mini fridge. “And like, ibuprofen. Maybe a new life.”

He blinked. “Are you okay? You look like you escaped from a cult. Did Professor Y/N touch you again?”

I stopped.

Didn’t turn.

Just whispered it.

“She fucked me.”

Silence.

Long, awful, nuclear silence.

Then-

The loudest slap to my back I’d ever received.

“YOU WHAT?!”

“OW-”

“YOU GOT LAID?!”

“Lower your voice, goddamn-”

“You’re walking like your soul left your body, and that’s because PROFESSOR Y/N RODE YOU?!”

“Jimin!”

“Tell me it wasn’t a fantasy. Tell me she actually climbed you like a lab ladder.”

“She told me not to touch her unless she said,” I whispered, collapsing into my desk chair. “And then she said. And I did. And - bro - I think I died.”

Jimin threw his pizza across the room.

“YOU HAD A DOMINANT PROFESSOR EXPERIENCE AND DIDN’T INVITE ME TO FILM IT?!”

“WHAT?? NO- YOU’RE SO FUCKING BROKEN- ”

“Did she call you a good boy?”

I didn’t answer.

He screamed.

“She DID?! HOLY SHIT. HOLY- YOU LITTLE- YOU MILF-HAVING, RULE-BREAKING- ”

“She’s not a MILF!”

“She teaches at a university! That’s academic MILF territory and YOU CROSSED THE BORDER!”

I covered my face.

“I think I need therapy.”

“No,” Jimin said, sitting on the floor with a blank stare. “You need electrolytes. Protein. Maybe an ice pack.”

He stood up and threw a Gatorade at my head.

It bounced off.

“I think she left a bruise on my hip.”

“I want to FRAME it.”

“She said, don’t think this changes the rules, after.”

Jimin froze. “Oh that’s hot. That’s so hot. That’s like… evil hot.”

“I’m never going to recover.”

He sat beside me on the floor.

“You’re glowing, man.”

“I’m not glowing.”

“You are,” he grinned, nudging me. “You look like you got spiritually cleansed with thigh pressure and regret.”

I groaned.

“Don’t make me laugh. My abs hurt.”

Jimin leaned back against the couch.

“I’m proud of you.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I am.”

He paused.

“But also, you definitely can’t fall in love with her.”

═══════

She didn’t look at me.

Not once.

Not when I walked into class. Not when I sat down. Not when I raised my hand, even though I didn’t know the answer- I just wanted her to see me.

She didn’t.

It was like I didn’t exist.

I sat there, skin still buzzing from what happened- from her. From the way she kissed me, touched me, whispered things in my ear that no one should ever say to their student.

And now?

Now she was reading out lecture notes like I was a stranger in the room.

I stared at her harder, as if I could force her to meet my eyes. She didn’t. Her hair was pulled back, clean and sharp, and her blouse was fully buttoned like nothing had ever come undone between us.

Jimin leaned over. “You good?”

“No,” I whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t explain.

When she started pairing us for the new assignment, I waited to hear her say my name. She always used it like a knife. Controlled. Deliberate. Beautiful.

Instead-

“Mr. Jeon, you’ll be with… Emily.”

I blinked. “What?”

Her eyes finally flicked toward me, but there was nothing there. No warmth. No recognition.

“Emily,” she repeated. “Section B.”

I looked at Jimin. His face said everything.

What the hell is happening?

The rest of class blurred. I didn’t hear the lecture. Didn’t retain the worksheet. I just kept staring at her waiting for a glance, a slip, something. She gave me nothing.

And when it ended, she picked up her bag and walked out the side door without looking back.

I stood there, frozen.

Jimin nudged me. “Yo. What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you text her?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

I showed him my screen.

Jungkook: Did I do something wrong?

Delivered. No response.

Jimin stared at the phone.

Then stared at me.

“Bro… you got ghosted by your professor.”

I swallowed hard.

“No,” I whispered. “I got used.”

═══════

I waited for her after class.

Not even on purpose. I told myself I was walking slow, just checking my phone, just breathing for a second.

But I was waiting.

And when she finally stepped out of the side hallway, I saw her.

I moved fast. “Professor- ”

She stopped.

That was it. She didn’t smile. Didn’t scowl. Just stopped walking and turned to face me like she’d already decided this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said coolly.

Her voice wasn’t the same as the one that whispered in my ear while I was shaking under her.

“I- ” My throat closed up. “Can we talk?”

She looked around. The hall was nearly empty.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“After… that?” I whispered, stepping closer. “You’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

She blinked slowly. “It’s not pretending. It’s discretion.”

Discretion.

Like it was a mistake. Like it was something to be filed away, never spoken of again.

My stomach twisted.

“You won’t even look at me,” I muttered. “I texted you.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you didn’t respond.”

Her jaw tightened for half a second before she caught it. “Because I’m your professor.”

“That didn’t seem to matter when your hands were all over me.”

Her eyes snapped to mine.

She stepped closer - barely - and lowered her voice.

“You need to stop,” she said sharply. “Right now.”

I felt something in my chest twist and snap.

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t get to want,” she hissed, low and deadly. “Not in this.”

I stared at her. “Then why’d you let me touch you?”

She didn’t answer.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth. Just for a second. I saw it.

“You could’ve stopped it,” I said, voice quiet now. “You didn’t.”

She stepped back.

“It was a moment. And it’s over.”

“You didn’t look at me once today.”

“That’s the point, Jungkook.”

“I didn’t imagine it. I know I didn’t.”

“No,” she said, eyes unreadable. “You didn’t imagine it.”

Something fluttered in my chest.

But then she crushed it.

“Doesn’t mean you get to have it again.”

Then she turned and walked away.

And I stood there, burning alive.

Not from anger.

From wanting her even more.

═══════

I didn’t say anything when I got back to the dorm.

Just dropped my bag, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed face-first onto my bed like my body gave up holding in all the shit I wasn’t saying.

Jimin turned down the volume on his laptop.

“Okay, you’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing.”

“The dead body thing. The ‘I’ve been emotionally assassinated by a woman’ thing.”

I groaned into the pillow.

He tossed a hoodie at my head. “Talk. Now.”

“She won’t even look at me.”

He paused.

“Oh damn.”

“Class was normal. She acted like I was invisible.”

“And you tried to talk to her?”

“I caught her in the hallway.”

“…And?”

“She told me it was over. That it was a moment.”

Jimin winced. “Yikes.”

“I asked her why she let it happen if she didn’t want it. She didn’t answer.”

“She always answers.”

“Exactly.”

Jimin leaned back, brows raised.

“Okay. Honest question. Are you, like… in love with her?”

I sat up.

“I don’t know.”

“Bro.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know what this is. I just-she’s in my head. I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about her. I walk past her office just to see if the light’s on.”

Jimin blinked. “Okay. That’s… yeah, that’s intense.”

“I’m not trying to fall in love. I just- can’t stop.”

He was quiet for a second.

Then he sat beside me on the bed and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re down bad.”

“I know.”

“She brainwashed you with thigh pressure and dominance.”

“I think I liked it.”

“You loved it.”

I flopped back onto the mattress. “I’m not okay.”

“Nope.”

“I’d do it again.”

Jimin looked at me.

“I mean, yeah, same, but- damn, bro.”

═══════

The bathroom mirror was fogged up.

Water ran hot. Too hot. I didn’t care.

I stepped under the spray like it could burn her out of me.

It didn’t.

It just brought her back.

Her hands on my skin.

Her mouth.

I closed my eyes, and there she was, her blouse sliding off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet like a discarded promise. 

My knees nearly buckled just remembering it.

Her bra, black lace stretched tight over her chest, clung to her like a second skin, and I could almost feel the roughness of the fabric under my fingertips, the way it would give way to the softness of her beneath.

My breath hitched as I pictured her nails biting into my skin, sharp and demanding, leaving marks that would linger for days. 

She knew how to make me beg, knew exactly what to say to make my knees weak. 

“I want to hear you beg,” she’d whisper, her voice sharp and low, like she owned me.

And she did. 

She still did. 

Even now, standing here, my hand drifting down, my fingers brushing against the hard line of my cock, I could hear her voice in my head, commanding, possessive.

I let out a rough groan, my fingers wrapping around myself, tight, mimicking the way she’d grip me, her hand firm, her touch sure. 

The water echoed around me, a steady rhythm that matched the pulse in my veins, the throb of my cock as I stroked slower, then faster, then slower again, teasing myself the way she would. 

I imagined her watching me, her dark eyes heavy-lidded, her lips parted as if she were tasting me already. 

“That’s it,” she’d murmur, her voice a husky command. “For me. All for me.”

My head fell back, water streaming down my face, mixing with the sweat that had broken out across my skin. I could feel her breath on my neck, her teeth grazing my earlobe as she whispered filth, her hands roaming over me like she was mapping every inch of my body. 

I tightened my grip, my thumb brushing the sensitive spot just below the head, and I imagined her mouth there, hot and wet, her tongue swirling, her lips stretching wide to take me in.

“Fuck,” I muttered, the word swallowed by the steam and the rush of water. 

I could see her on her knees, her hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes locked on mine as she sucked me deep, her throat working, her hands gripping my hips to hold me still. 

My strokes became more urgent, my body tensing as I chased the memory of her, the feel of her, the sound of her moans vibrating against my skin. 

I imagined her hands on my chest, pushing me back against the table, her legs wrapping around my waist as she impaled herself on me, her nails digging into my shoulders as she rode me hard and fast. 

I imagined her saying it again- “Good boy.”

Whispered. Sharp. Like she owned me.

“Y/N,” I groaned, the name tearing from my throat, raw and desperate. 

I could feel her tightening around me, her walls clenching, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she cried out, her head thrown back, her body trembling. 

I thrust into her memory, my hand moving faster, my hips snapping forward as if she were still there, still wrapped around me, still whispering filth in my ear.

The orgasm hit me like a wave, crashing over me, leaving me shaking and breathless. 

I let out a guttural sound, my fingers tightening around myself as I spilled, the hot release being a poor substitute for the real thing, for her. 

The water washed over me, mixing with the sweat and the tension, carrying it all away, but the memory of her lingered, clinging to my skin like a second layer.

I leaned into the water like it could wash the shame off.

But it didn’t.

Because it wasn’t shame.

It was need.

═══════

I wasn’t going to go. I told myself I shouldn’t. That after what she said, after the hallway, the silence, the way she shut me down without flinching- I should do the smart thing and stay away.

But I still showed up.

Sat in the same seat. Pen in hand. Telling myself it was just class, that I could pretend none of it happened. That I didn’t still feel her under my skin.

She walked in right on time. Clipboard in hand, hair tied back like she always wore it when she meant business. She didn’t look at me. Just started writing on the board and talking through the lecture like it was any other day.

I didn’t hear a word of it.

I stared at her- the way her fingers gripped the marker, the way her voice stayed perfectly steady. I waited for her to slip. To glance my way. To show me something, anything, that meant I wasn’t losing my mind.

Nothing.

Then my pencil rolled off the edge of the desk and clattered to the floor. I bent to grab it, swearing under my breath. When I sat back up- everything stopped.

She was looking at me.

Dead on.

Not for long, maybe two seconds at most, but it happened. Our eyes locked, and for the first time in days, I saw her see me.

It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t anything I could name.

But it wasn’t nothing.

She blinked, turned back to the board, and continued like it hadn’t happened. Like it didn’t matter.

But it mattered to me.

Because now I knew.

She saw me. Still.

And that was enough to ruin me all over again.

═══════

It was almost midnight when I got the text.

Y/N: Are you up?

My heart jumped. I stared at the screen like it was a mirage.

I didn’t even answer. Just grabbed my hoodie, shoved on shoes, and left. Jimin didn’t ask where I was going. He just gave me a long look from his bed and muttered, “You’re gonna die in that woman’s arms.”

Honestly? That didn’t sound so bad.

I found her building still lit on the bottom floor. The same back entrance. The same flicker of nerves in my chest.

The door was already unlocked.

She was sitting at her desk when I walked in- legs crossed, blazer draped over the back of the chair, white button-down tight across her chest like she hadn’t just taught a full day. Like she hadn’t wrecked me already once before.

She didn’t say hi.

Didn’t smile.

Just stared at me for a long second, like she was debating whether this was a mistake.

Then she stood.

Walked over.

Stopped right in front of me.

I didn’t breathe.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“You texted me.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Then tell me to leave.”

Her jaw tightened, her gaze flicking to my lips before meeting my eyes again. 

But she didn’t say it. 

Instead, she reached out, her fingers curling around the back of my neck, pulling me in. And then her mouth was on mine. 

Hard. Desperate. 

Teeth and tongue, no hesitation. 

I groaned, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer. She pushed me back against the wall, our bodies slamming together like magnets finally finding their match.

“Take your shirt off,” she breathed against my lips, her breath hot and uneven.

I didn’t need to be told twice. 

She watched me, her eyes dark with desire, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I tossed the shirt aside, and her hands were already moving, tracing the muscles of my chest, my abs, her touch sending sparks of heat through my skin.

“I’m going to ruin you,” she whispered, her mouth trailing over my jaw, my neck, down my chest.

“Please,” 

That was all it took. 

She undid the buttons of her blouse, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her lacy black bra. Her skin was flawless, her curves soft yet commanding. 

She pressed her body against mine, her breasts pressing into my chest, her hips grinding against mine. I could feel her heat, her need, and it fueled my own.

Her hands slid down my chest, over my stomach, and then slowly, she pushed my pants and underwear down. They pooled at my ankles, and I kicked them aside, my heart pounding in my ears. 

The air against my bare skin was cool, but her hands were warm as they wrapped around my hips, pulling me closer.

And then she dropped to her knees.

The sight of her there, her pretty face framed by her loose hair, her eyes fixed on me with such intensity, was enough to make my knees weak. 

But she wasn’t done teasing me yet. Her fingers brushed against my thigh, light and teasing, before she finally closed her hand around me. Her touch was firm, confident, and I let out a sharp breath, my head falling back against the wall.

"You like that, don’t you?" she murmured, her lips brushing against the head of my cock. 

Her breath was warm, her words a whisper that sent a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Fuck, yes," I groaned. 

She smirked, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip before she took me into her mouth. Her lips were soft, her tongue skilled, and she sucked me in deep, her throat closing around me in a way that made my vision blur. 

I moaned, my hips bucking involuntarily, but she held me firm, her hand gripping my hip to keep me still.

"Not so fast," she chided, her voice muffled around me.

She pulled back, her lips sliding up and down my length in slow, torturous strokes. Her tongue swirled, her mouth wet and warm, and I was lost in the sensation, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

She edged me, pulling back just as I was about to climax, her fingers tightening around the base to keep me from spilling over. 

"Beg me," she whispered, her eyes meeting mine, her lips glistening with my pre-cum.

"Please," I groaned, my voice desperate. "Let me cum."

She smirked, her tongue flicking out to taste me again. "No."

And she went back to work, her mouth relentless, her hands skilled, driving me to the edge again and again, but never letting me fall. 

My moans filled the room, echoing off the walls, and I was a mess, my body trembling, my mind fogged with need.

"Please," I begged again, my voice breaking. "I need to cum."

She pulled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Say it properly," she demanded, her hand stroking me slowly, teasingly.

"Please Professor, let me cum," I gasped, my pride long forgotten. "I need to cum in your mouth."

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in, her lips closing around me once more. 

This time, she didn’t hold back. 

Her mouth moved faster, her tongue pressing against me, her throat opening as she took me deeper. I cried out, my hands gripping the wall. 

It was messy, my cum spilling into her mouth, over her lips, but she didn’t stop, her mouth milking me until I was empty, until I was trembling and boneless against the wall.

She pulled back, licking her lips slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. 

Y/N’s hands slid down my chest, her touch deliberate, possessive. She stepped back, her eyes locking onto mine with a smirk that sent a shiver down my spine.

Without a word, she slipped her skirt off, letting it pool at her feet. She was now in nothing but her lace panties and bra that clung to her like a second skin. 

My gaze followed her as she walked over to her desk, her hips swaying with confidence. She leaned against it, one hand resting on the surface, the other gesturing me forward.

“On your knees and crawl,” she commanded, her voice low and commanding. 

There was no hesitation in my movements. I dropped to my knees, my heart pounding in my chest, and crawled toward her. 

The distance between us felt like miles, every inch a deliberate submission to her will. 

Her eyes never left mine, her gaze intense, almost predatory. I could feel the weight of her desire, her control, and it only fueled my own.

When I reached her, her legs parted, her panties the only barrier between her and me. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. 

“You know what to do,” she ordered, her voice firm but laced with desire. 

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the waistband of her panties, but she stopped me with a touch on my wrist.

“With your teeth,”

I obeyed, gripping the delicate lace with my teeth and tugging downward. The fabric slid down her legs, leaving her completely exposed. 

Her scent filled my nostrils, sweet and simply her, and I groaned softly, my mouth watering in anticipation.

She moaned softly as I pressed my lips to her, my tongue tracing the outline of her folds. Her hands tangled in my hair, guiding me, pulling me closer. 

“That’s it, be a good boy,” she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. 

I hummed against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. Her fingers tightened in my hair, urging me deeper, and I complied, my tongue thrusting into her, tasting her, savoring her.

“Faster,” she commanded, her voice sharp but laced with desperation. 

I quickened my pace, my tongue flicking against her clit, my lips sucking gently. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, her body arching against my mouth. I could feel her trembling, her muscles tensing as she teetered on the edge.

“Finger me,” she gasped, her voice barely audible over her ragged breaths. 

I slid a finger inside her, then two, curling them up. Her walls clenched around me, tight and wet, and I groaned into her, the sound muffled by her flesh.

“Yes, just like that,” she moaned, her head falling back as she surrendered to the pleasure. 

Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, her nails digging into the wood as she rode my mouth and fingers. I could feel her building, her body coiling tighter and tighter, until she finally shattered.

Her cry was loud, unrestrained, echoing through the sterile lab. Her body trembled as she came, her juices flooding my mouth, her walls squeezing my fingers. I drank her in, devouring her, my tongue never stopping, even as her orgasm began to fade.

“You did so good,” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless as she pulled me back, her hands cupping my face. 

“Stand up,” she commanded, her voice was firm, but there was a playful edge to it. 

I scrambled to my feet, almost hypnotized by her presence. The lab around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in a world of our own.

I stood before her, my breath ragged, my cock throbbing with need. 

She was still seated on the edge of her desk, her legs slightly parted. Her eyes raked over me, taking in every detail. She smirked, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

“Line yourself up,” she ordered, her voice low and commanding. 

I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest. I positioned myself between her legs, my cock hovering just above her entrance. She reached out, her hands gripping my hips, guiding me into place. Her touch was firm, purposeful, and I shivered at the contact.

“You’re such a good listener,” she purred, her breath hot against my ear. “A good boy. And good boys deserve rewards.” 

Her words sent a jolt of anticipation through me. I knew what she meant- she was going to let me cum. 

She rocked her hips forward, taking me inside her in one smooth motion. Her walls clenched around me, tight and wet, and I groaned at the sensation.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice sharp. “Show me how much you’ve missed this.”

I pulled back, then thrust forward, burying myself deep inside her. 

She gasped, her head falling back as she gripped my shoulders. I set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate, each withdrawal slow and torturous. 

The sound of our bodies meeting, the slick wetness of her, the way she moaned my name- it was overwhelming.

“Harder,” she commanded, her voice laced with desperation. 

I obliged, picking up the pace, my hips snapping against hers. The lab table creaked beneath us, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies. I reached down, gripping her thighs, using them as leverage as I pounded into her relentlessly.

“You feel so good,” I groaned, my voice rough. 

“Keep going,” she panted, her nails digging into my skin. “Don’t stop. I want to feel you cum inside me.”

Her words were like fuel to the fire burning within me. I thrust harder, faster, my control slipping as I neared the edge. 

She met each thrust with one of her own, her body moving in perfect sync with mine. Her breasts heaved with each breath, her nipples tight and flushed, and I couldn’t resist leaning down to take one into my mouth.

She cried out, her hands tangling in my hair as I sucked and nipped at her sensitive flesh. “Yes, just like that,” she moaned. 

Her words sent me over the edge. I felt the familiar coil of pleasure tighten in my gut, and I let out a guttural groan as I came, my cock pulsing deep inside her. 

She screamed, her body arching off the table as her own orgasm ripped through her. Her walls clenched around me, milking me dry, and I shuddered as I emptied myself into her.

I gave her everything.

And when it was over-

When we were still breathing hard, clothes half-off, tangled together in her chair-

That’s when I said it.

“Do you regret it?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Her fingers brushed my hair back from my forehead.

Then she whispered:

“Don’t touch me like that, Jungkook, and expect it to mean anything.”

But I saw it.

The look in her eyes.

She felt it too.

She just wasn’t ready to admit it.

═══════

I didn’t say anything when I left.

Didn’t ask for a kiss goodbye. Didn’t ask if she’d text me again. Didn’t ask what the hell we were doing.

I just pulled on my shirt, grabbed my phone, and walked out of her office like I wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

The hallway felt colder on the way out.

Campus was dead quiet. A breeze moved through the trees like it was trying to whisper something I didn’t want to hear.

I walked slow. Hands in my pockets. Her taste still on my tongue.

My chest was tight. Like my ribs were holding in something too big, too dangerous.

Like hope.

She said not to expect it to mean anything.

She said it like a warning, but I heard it like a challenge.

Because I’d felt the way she kissed me. The way she gripped my hair. The way she held onto my wrist like she didn’t want to let go. I wasn’t imagining that.

I couldn’t be.

But what was I supposed to do?

I couldn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t ask her to hold my hand in daylight. Couldn’t even text her without waiting hours for a maybe.

I wanted her.

Not just her body.

Her.

Her voice when she wasn’t giving a lecture. Her laugh- if I could ever get her to really do it. I wanted to know what her bed looked like. I wanted to know how she’d look at me in the morning.

And all I could think about as I walked home in the dark was this:

What would it take for her to want me when the lights are still on?

═══════

The next morning, I could still smell her on my skin.

It made brushing my teeth feel ridiculous. Like I was pretending to be a normal person when every part of me still felt like it belonged to her.

Jimin didn’t ask questions this time. He just looked at me over his cereal and said, “Still breathing?”

“Barely.”

He nodded. “Tight.”

It was the most serious he’d ever been about anything.

Class came and went. She didn’t make eye contact again, but her hand brushed mine when she passed back a paper, and I swear to God, my fingers tingled for ten minutes afterward.

I couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t stop replaying the way she sounded when she came undone on top of me. Couldn’t stop wondering if she was thinking about it, too, or if she’d already shoved it in a drawer somewhere in her head labeled Mistake.

At lunch, I didn’t eat.

At practice, I was useless.

Every song made me think of her body against mine, of her lips on my neck, of her whispering, “Don’t be quiet. I want to hear you.”

I was spiraling and I knew it. I just didn’t care anymore.

That night, I didn’t try to sleep. I stared at my phone like it owed me something. Waited for her name to flash across the screen again.

It didn’t.

So I pulled up our old texts.

Scrolled all the way back to the first ones.

Y/N: Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.

I bit the inside of my cheek and typed something I probably shouldn’t.

Jungkook: I still want you. Even if you won’t say it back.

I didn’t send it.

I just sat there.

Staring.

Wanting.

And wondering what the fuck I’ve become.

═══════

I was in the dining hall when the message came in.

Y/N: My office. Now.

No greeting. No context.

My hands went clammy.

I didn’t even think. I just grabbed my phone, shoved my tray away, and walked out. Jimin shouted something behind me, but I barely heard him.

By the time I reached her office, I was already sweating. Not from nerves. From the what if.

The door was cracked. I knocked once.

“Come in.”

Her voice was calm. Controlled.

I stepped inside.

She didn’t look up right away. She was scribbling something onto a folder, seated behind her desk like she didn’t make me cum 48 hours ago.

When she finally did look at me, her eyes were unreadable.

“You’ve been distracted in class,” she said, like she was reciting it from a script.

“I wonder why.”

“Sit.”

I did. Of course I did.

She folded her hands on the desk. “This isn’t appropriate.”

I laughed- quiet, bitter. “Now we care about what’s appropriate?”

“Jungkook- ”

“No. You don’t get to call me in here like I’m being punished, act like I’m a problem, then keep pulling me back when it suits you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think this suits me?”

“Feels like it.”

There was silence.

She stood.

Came around the desk.

Stopped in front of me.

“I’m trying to protect both of us,” she said tightly. “You keep pushing.”

“Because I want you.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“What is?”

“You want too much.”

I stood. Stepped closer.

She didn’t move.

“I want you. Not the idea of you. Not just your hands or your mouth or what you whisper when you think I won’t remember.”

Her breath hitched. Barely.

“I remember everything,” I said.

“You should go.”

“I won’t.”

Her hand landed on my chest.

Not to shove me away.

Just to feel.

I leaned in.

“If you want me to leave, say it.”

Her mouth parted.

But no words came.

So I kissed her.

Hard.

And this time, she didn’t resist.

═══════

I didn’t mean to lose control.

But the second she kissed me again, I was gone.

It wasn’t slow this time. It wasn’t careful.

It was need.

She tore my shirt over my head like it offended her. My hands found her hips. She spun me, shoved me back into the door, kissed me like she wanted to erase the last forty-eight hours and start over from scratch.

“Lock it,” she breathed.

I did.

She was already halfway out of her blouse as she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine. 

I caught her wrists, just for a second, and looked her in the eye. The lab around us faded into the background: the sterile smell of chemicals, the hum of the equipment, all of it disappeared. There was only her.

“You keep saying this doesn’t mean anything,”I whispered, my voice rough with frustration and desire. “Then why do you keep calling me back?”

Her breathing stuttered.

She didn’t answer.

She just kissed me harder.

The rest was a blur.

Heat. Her mouth. My hands.

The world narrowed to the press of her body against mine, the way her nails dug into my shoulders, the way her breath hitched in my ear.

Her voice was in my ear again, low and shaky this time- not commanding, not teasing. Just needing. 

“Touch me,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Please.

That was new.

I didn’t say anything.

I just obeyed.

Because of course I did.

Her legs wrapped around me, and we moved like we were trying to break something. The silence. The distance. The rules.

Her hands were everywhere- tugging at my shirt, clawing at my back, pulling me closer. I could feel her heartbeat through her skin, fast and frantic, matching my own.

She bit my neck, and I gasped. My hands dug into her waist, holding her tight as if I could keep her there forever. And then-

She said it. 

Soft. Raw. Rushed. 

“I miss you when you’re not here.”

I stopped. 

Not moving. Not breathing. 

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. She hadn’t meant to say it. I could see it on her face the second it slipped. She closed her eyes like she wanted to pull the words back into her throat. 

But it was too late.

I kissed her again- slower this time.

Deeper. Slower

My lips moved against hers, my hands tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. She trembled under my touch, her body arching into mine. I could feel her need, her desire, her surrender.

And then, there was no more waiting. No more games. No more pretending this didn’t mean anything.

I pushed her back against the desk, the wood pressing into her skin. Her blouse was gone now, her bra quickly following. Her breasts were perfect, her nipples tight and begging for my mouth. 

I took one into my lips, sucking gently, teasing her with my tongue. She moaned, her head falling back, her hands tangling in my hair.

“Jungkook,” she breathed, her voice thick with need. “Now- ”

I unbuckled my belt, my jeans sliding down my legs. Her eyes locked onto my cock, her lips parting as she watched me. 

I stepped closer, her legs still wrapped around me, her core pressing against my thigh. She was already wet, her arousal evident, her body ready for me.

I didn’t bother with eating her out, even though I desperately wanted to. There was no time for it- no time for anything but this. 

I gripped her hips, positioning myself at her entrance, and thrust inside her in one smooth motion. She gasped, her nails digging into my arms, her body tightening around me.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my head falling back as I savored the feel of her. 

She was tight, so tight, her walls clenching around me like a vice. I pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, harder this time. She met my thrusts, her hips rising to meet mine, her legs tightening around my waist.

The desk creaked under us, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the silent lab. Her breath came in short gasps, her moans echoing off the walls. 

I leaned down, kissing her fiercely, our tongues tangling as I moved inside her. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her nails leaving marks I’d wear like badges.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. “Fuck me harder.”

I grabbed her hips, lifting her slightly, and slammed into her with a force that made her cry out. 

The sound sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I did it again, and again, our bodies slapping together in a rhythm that was anything but gentle.

Her head fell back, her hair spilling across the desk. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and flushed. 

I reached down, teasing her clit with my thumb, adding to the friction. Her walls fluttered around me, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

Her body shook, her cries filling the room as she climaxed, her walls milking me in a way that had me teetering on the edge. 

I thrust into her one last time, my own release crashing over me, my cum pulsing deep inside her.

We stayed like that for a moment, our hearts pounding, our breaths ragged. 

I rested my forehead against hers, our bodies still connected, the warmth between us undeniable.

“You could have me whenever you want,” I whispered into her skin, my lips brushing against her neck.

She smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made my chest ache. 

“I know,” she murmured. “That’s the problem.”

═══════

She said she missed me.

She didn’t say it like a confession. She said it like a slip. A whisper between breaths, when her nails were digging into my shoulder and her mouth was on my throat.

But it stuck.

It echoed in my head all night.

“I miss you when you’re not here.”

She didn’t mean to say it. I know that. It broke through in the heat of it, something raw and unfiltered, and if she could take it back, she would. But she can’t.

And now I can’t think about anything else.

Every step I took away from her office last night felt heavier than the last. Like gravity had turned on me. Like the floor didn’t want me to leave her.

I didn’t even pretend to sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling like it might spell out what the hell I’m supposed to do next. My heart still hadn’t calmed down.

Because now I knew-

She wanted me.

She might not say it. Might still act like it was nothing. But I’d felt it. In her hands. In her kiss. In the way she held me a little too long before letting go.

She keeps drawing lines, then crossing them. She tells me to stay away, then reaches for me like she’s starving. She keeps trying to act like this isn’t real.

But it’s real to me.

And it’s wrecking her.

I can feel it breaking her down every time I touch her.

And the worst part? I like it.

I like that I get under her skin. That I’m not just another name on her roster. I like the way she looks at me when she forgets to be careful- when I see the want plain as day in her face.

I want more of it.

I want her when she isn’t pretending this is a mistake. When she’s soft. Open. Mine.

I want to keep her.

But I don’t say that.

Not yet.

So I got up this morning, walked the halls like I was somewhere between dreaming and hungover, and made it to class on time.

She walked in late.

Hair loose.

Eyes tired.

She glanced at me, just once. A flicker. Barely a second.

But it landed like a hand around my throat.

Maybe she remembered.

Maybe she hadn’t slept either.

Maybe she was breaking, too.

I’d let her ruin me again. Right here. Right now.

If she asked.

Hell, she didn’t even have to ask.

═══════

I wasn’t expecting to hear from her.

Not that soon.

Not during the day.

But there it was. Just after the lecture ended.

Y/N: Office.

No other words. No context.

But something about it felt different. No clipped edge. No command in the punctuation.

I went anyway. Of course I did.

The door was already cracked open when I got there, so I stepped inside.

She was sitting behind her desk. Not standing. Not pacing. Just sitting- blouse unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Her hair was half-pulled back like she hadn’t looked in a mirror all day. 

God, she was beautiful. 

She didn’t look up right away.

And when she did?

She didn’t speak.

She just stared at me for a long time, her eyes softer than I’d ever seen them.

I didn’t say anything either.

I sat.

Waited.

It felt like forever before she finally spoke.

“Do you tell anyone about me?” she asked, voice low.

My heart tripped.

“No,” I said, quick and honest. “Of course not.”

“Not even Mr. Park?”

“I lie to him every time.”

Her mouth twitched- not quite a smile. Something else.

“I don’t think I could survive being found out,” she said.

Her voice wasn’t scared.

Just tired.

“You won’t be,” I promised. “I’d rather be buried than ruin you.”

She looked down at her hands.

That cracked something in me.

“You didn’t call me here just to ask that,” I said.

She hesitated.

Then she asked the question that cut clean through my chest.

“What do you want from me, Jungkook?”

It wasn’t flirtatious. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t her.

It was real.

And it hit harder than anything she’d ever said.

I swallowed.

Tried to find the right way to say something that wasn’t going to come out clean.

But in the end, I just told the truth.

“I want you.”

I said it like a prayer.

Soft. Honest. Unfiltered.

She looked at me like she’d been holding her breath for days. Like she didn’t know what to do with the space between us now that I’d filled it with truth.

And then, slowly, she stood.

She rounded the desk, not with power, not with her usual control- but like she didn’t trust her own legs.

When she stopped in front of me, I didn’t move. I waited.

She raised a hand to my face. Brushed her fingers along my jaw. I leaned into it without thinking.

“You shouldn’t want me,” she whispered.

“I do.”

She searched my face like she was looking for a way out.

But there wasn’t one.

She leaned down and kissed me, slow this time. No teeth. No control. Just her mouth on mine like she didn’t know how else to ask me to stay.

I stood and kissed her back, hands gentle on her hips.

She pushed her forehead to mine.

“Don’t make this soft,” she said. “I can’t afford soft.”

“I’m not trying to be soft,” I said. “I’m just not pretending anymore.”

She didn’t speak after that.

Just unbuttoned her blouse slowly, shaking fingers betraying the calm she wore like armor. 

I helped, my hands trembling almost as much as hers. 

The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, the kind that builds when two people have been dancing around something for too long. 

Let her slide her hands under my shirt, her fingers brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. 

Her touch was tentative, as if she was afraid I’d pull away, but I didn’t. I let her explore, let her waistband slip under my jeans, let her skin meet mine.

We didn’t make it to the desk this time. 

We didn’t even try. 

The desk was too far, too formal, too much like the professional distance we’d been pretending to maintain. 

Instead, I backed her into the nearest wall, my lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. 

Her hands were in my hair, then on my chest, then gripping my shoulders like she didn’t know where to hold on. 

Her breath was hot and uneven, her body pressed flush against mine, and I could feel her heart racing through the thin fabric of her blouse.

When she moaned, it wasn’t commanding. It wasn’t deliberate. 

It was broken, raw, like something she couldn’t hold back.

And when I lifted her up, she didn’t order me. 

She just let me. 

Her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms tightening around my neck as I pressed her against the cold wall. 

Everything was fast and hot and frantic- clothes shoved aside, breathless and messy. The lab around us faded into the background, the sterile smell of chemicals replaced by the scent of her skin, the sound of beakers clinking drowned out by our ragged breaths.

I didn’t bother with foreplay. There was no room for it in the urgency of the moment. 

I pushed her skirt up her thighs, her panties already discarded on the floor, and positioned myself at her entrance. 

She was wet, so wet, and when I thrust into her, she gasped, her head dropping back against the wall. Her nails dug into my shoulders, her legs tightening around me as I held her up, her weight barely noticeable despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through me.

“Jungkook,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her breath hot against my ear. 

I didn’t respond. 

I couldn’t. 

Words felt unnecessary when my body was screaming for hers. 

I moved against her, slow at first, then faster, the wall creaking under the force of our bodies pressing against it. 

Her hips met mine with each thrust, her moans growing louder, more desperate. The roughness of the wall against her back seemed to fuel her, her fingers clawing at my skin, her legs squeezing tighter around me.

I kissed her neck, her collarbone, my lips trailing down to her breasts, exposed and heaving with each breath. She tasted like salt and desire, her skin flushed and hot under my mouth. 

“Harder,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of our bodies colliding. 

I’ll always listen to her. I gripped her thighs, holding her steady as I pounded into her, the rhythm relentless, the friction between us electric.

Her breath hitched, her body tensing as she neared the edge. 

“Jungkook, I- ” she started, but her words were cut off by a sharp cry as she came, her walls clenching around me, her nails digging into my back like she was trying to anchor herself to me. 

I followed soon after, my release crashing over me like a wave, my name on her lips as I emptied myself into her.

For a moment, we just stood there, our bodies still joined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. Her head rested on my shoulder, her legs still wrapped around me, her arms loose around my neck. 

The world felt still, the only sound being our ragged breathing and the faint hum of the lab equipment in the background.

And when I was inside her, when her head dropped against my shoulder and her nails dug into my back like she was holding on for dear life. 

That's when I knew. 

She needed this just as much as I did. 

The walls she’d built, the distance she’d tried to maintain, it all crumbled in moments like these. 

═══════

After, we stayed tangled against the wall, both of us catching our breath like we’d barely survived it.

Her hands were still in my hair. My palms were flat against her back. Neither of us moved for a long time.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t push me off.

Didn’t pull me closer, either.

She just kept her head resting against my shoulder, like she didn’t want to look at me yet. Like if she did, something would break.

I kissed her temple.

It was automatic.

She stiffened- just barely.

But she didn’t stop me.

Eventually, she pulled back. Adjusted her skirt. Ran a hand through her hair like she was rewinding herself into the version of her the world was allowed to see.

I stood there, waiting for something.

A thank you. A don’t come back. Anything.

Instead, she walked to her desk, picked up a pen, and clicked it twice.

Calm. Composed. Like she wasn’t still flushed from letting me fuck her up against the wall.

She finally looked at me.

And smiled.

Small. Precise. Almost cruel.

“I think you’re starting to believe I want more,” she said.

I blinked. “Don’t you?”

Her gaze dropped to my still-exposed chest, then back to my face.

“That’s not the question you should be asking.”

My stomach flipped.

“What should I be asking?”

She tilted her head.

“Whether or not you’re strong enough to keep this a secret.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

I didn’t even know what it meant.

But I nodded.

Because of course I did.

She stepped close. Fixed the collar of my shirt for me. Smoothed it down like I was her possession- not her mistake.

Then she said it. Soft. Controlled. With that same quiet dominance that always undid me.

“Next time, knock first.”

═══════

I left her office with my shirt half-wrinkled and fingerprints still on my chest.

She didn’t kiss me goodbye.

She didn’t look soft when I left. She looked calm. Reassembled. Like she’d slipped back into the version of herself that made men stammer and departments bow.

And I let her.

Because I knew what I looked like.

I looked ruined.

I made it halfway back to the dorm before I realized my hands were still shaking.

Not from fear.

From her.

From the way she touched me like she’d missed me. From the way her voice cracked when she said, “Please.” Like she didn’t want to need me- but did.

From the way she let me hold her like it meant something, even if she’d never admit it.

From the way she put me back together just to undo me again.

I didn’t go inside when I got to the building.

I sat on the steps like an idiot, hoodie pulled over my head, heart still slamming against my ribs.

It wasn’t just sex anymore.

It hadn’t been for a while.

I wanted her when she was angry. I wanted her when she was cold. I wanted her when she looked at me like I didn’t exist, and I craved her when she said my name like she owned it.

She was in me now. Under my skin. Between my ribs. Buried in places I couldn’t reach without bleeding.

I knew I should run.

But instead?

I reached for my phone and stared at the last message she’d sent.

Just her name on my screen.

I tapped it open.

Didn’t type anything.

Just looked.

Because I knew it already-

Whatever this was?

I wasn’t strong enough to walk away from it.

And if she called me again?

I’d go.

Every time.

═══════

I didn’t sleep.

I didn’t even try.

I laid there, staring at the ceiling like it owed me answers. My body still aches in all the places she touched. My lips were sore. My back was red. And my chest- my chest felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with her name.

Y/N.

It echoed in me like a heartbeat I couldn’t shut off.

I’d never felt like this before. Not even close. This wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t a kink. It wasn’t just sex. It was obsession. Devotion. Something deeper and more dangerous than I knew how to survive.

I wanted her constantly.

I checked my phone ten times an hour, even when I knew she wouldn’t text. I reread every word she’d ever sent me. I imagined her voice in my ear when I closed my eyes.

And the worst part?

I didn’t want to stop.

She could’ve told me to leave for good. She could’ve said it was over. But she didn’t.

She let me touch her.

She let me hold her.

She let me see the cracks.

And now I wanted to be the one who filled them.

Not fix her- just have her. All of her. On her terms or mine. It didn’t matter. I’d take her any way she’d give herself to me.

Even if it killed me.

By the time the sun came up, I’d already decided I’d go wherever this led.

Even if it was straight into fire.

═══════

She didn’t look at me.

Not once.

Just like before.

Like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t had her pressed up against her office wall twenty-four hours ago, her breath in my mouth, her nails in my back, her voice shaking when she whispered my name.

Now? She stood at the front of the lecture hall, hair slicked back, voice steady, posture perfect. Not a single flicker of emotion.

Cold. Professional. Perfect.

And I hated how much it hurt.

My leg bounced under the table. My fingers clenched around my pen, but I wasn’t writing. I wasn’t listening. I was watching her. Waiting. Starving for something- anything.

Just one glance.

She didn’t give it.

Even when she passed out lab assignments, she didn’t come near me. A TA handed me mine. Her gaze skipped right over me like I wasn’t even there.

Jimin leaned toward me.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?”

I didn’t answer.

“You look like someone drop-kicked your soul.”

Still nothing.

“Did you get dumped?” he asked.

I clenched my jaw.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Wait. Is this about-” he dropped his voice- “her?”

I didn’t say yes.

But I didn’t have to.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Jesus Christ, you really are in love with her.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you look like she murdered your puppy and posted it on Canvas?”

I laughed once. Bitter. Quiet. It wasn’t funny. Nothing about this was funny anymore.

She didn’t just avoid me in class.

She erased me.

And for the first time, it hit me- really hit me- that if she wanted to pretend none of it had ever happened, she could. She could wipe me out of her world with one decision, and no one would question it.

Because she had power.

And I had nothing.

═══════

I wasn’t going to go.

I told myself I wouldn’t. That if she wanted to pretend nothing happened, I’d let her. That I had enough self-respect not to chase someone who could erase me with a blink.

But by midnight, I was outside her office again.

The light was on. The door was closed.

I hovered for a second, heart slamming against my ribs. Then I knocked. Once. Twice. Nothing.

I tried the handle. It wasn’t locked.

When I pushed the door open, there she was—sitting behind her desk like she hadn’t just spent the last twenty-four hours cutting me out of her world. Her face was unreadable. Legs crossed. Pen in hand. A stack of papers she wasn’t even pretending to read anymore.

She looked up.

“Close the door,” she said.

I did.

And then I stood there, every part of me wired tight, waiting for her to say something else. Waiting for her to stop me. Break the tension. Look at me like she had the other night.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She said nothing.

“You think if you ignore me long enough, I’ll disappear?”

She looked up again. Eyes sharp. Calm. “Do you want to disappear?”

“No.”

“Then stop asking stupid questions.”

That should’ve made me mad. But it didn’t.

It made me ache.

I stepped closer, heart still slamming. Her eyes followed me. Not soft. Not cruel. Just watching. Calculating.

“I want you,” I said. “Even when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Cold.”

She stood. Came around the desk. Not fast. Not slow. Like she was trying to decide what version of herself to give me tonight.

She stopped in front of me. Reached up. Touched the back of my neck. Her fingers were steady.

“You say that now,” she murmured, “but you like it when I ruin you.”

I didn’t breathe.

She leaned in, close enough that I could feel her words when they hit my skin.

“You show up when I call. You beg when I make you wait. You lose your mind when I take control.”

Her hand slid down my chest. Slow. Possessive. My heart pounded against her palm.

“Take off your pants.”

I did.

Because with her, I always did.

Her mouth was already on mine, her hand wrapped around the back of my neck like she was trying to hold me in place and pull me apart at the same time. I could barely think.

Her hips pressed against mine. My hands were under her blouse. The desk was too far. We didn’t care.

And then-

A knock.

Sharp. Two taps.

We froze.

Her breath caught in her throat. My stomach dropped.

Another knock. Louder this time.

“Professor?” A voice. Male. Confused. “You’re still in there?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

I backed away. Stumbled. Nearly tripped trying to grab my shirt.

She didn’t look at me.

Her face didn’t change.

She stepped away like nothing happened. Smoothed her blouse. Buttoned it quickly but perfectly, like she’d practiced this before. Like she’d trained for it.

Another voice joined outside the door.

A second knock.

She raised a hand and pointed. 

“Go,” she mouthed.

I ducked behind the tall cabinet in the corner- my heart pounding so loud I swore they’d hear it through the walls.

And then?

She opened the door.

Like nothing had happened.

“Oh,” she said, voice sharp and casual, like she was halfway through a sentence. “Yes. I’m just finishing up some files. What’s wrong?”

It was seamless.

The voice outside fumbled. “Sorry, just… didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

“No problem.”

“Need me to lock up when I go?”

“Please. I’ll be five more minutes.”

“Alright. Have a good night, Professor.”

“You too.”

She closed the door. Locked it. Turned around.

I stepped out from the cabinet, my pulse still erratic.

She didn’t meet my eyes.

She just walked back to her desk. Sat. Picked up a pen like she was grading.

Nothing happened.

I stood there.

Shirt half-on. Still hard. Still wrecked.

And I realized something for the first time:

She’s not scared.

She’s trained.

═══════

She didn’t say a word.

She just sat at her desk like nothing happened. Like I wasn’t half-naked behind her office cabinet ten seconds ago. Like I wasn’t still breathing hard and half out of my mind with the thought of her mouth on mine.

She didn't speak when I crossed the room, chest still tight, heart still raw from the question I hadn’t meant to ask- but couldn’t hold in any longer.

“Is this just sex for you?”

No answer.

Her eyes stayed on her desk. Her fingers tapped lightly against a closed folder.

I stepped closer.

“Do you ever wish it wasn’t a secret?”

Still no response.

But her hand stopped moving.

She didn’t breathe.

And when she finally lifted her gaze to mine- it hit like a punch to the chest.

There it was.

The truth, sitting behind her eyes like something dangerous she’d kept locked up for too long.

I held her stare.

Waited.

“Jungkook…” she said, voice quiet. Unsteady.

My throat tightened. I didn’t speak. I didn’t move.

I just waited.

And then- 

She opened her mouth.

And closed it again.

Her jaw clenched.

She looked away.

But not before I saw it.

═══════

prev ♡ ???

MASTERPOST ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/09/2025

[enmi-land]

✶ CLOUD NINE

❛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇───𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌.

⌇ 2024 ៸៸ 爱 psh 𝔁 f!ocmember › ⌗ our story ? mila experiencing cuteness aggression after sunghoon has his wisdom tooth removed. REQ! ﹆ beware... nothing ^^ ✉️ ᝰ a little drabble to get out of writer’s block (੭˘͈ᵕ˘͈)੭

❪ THE ✦ LIBRARY ❫

MILA LOVED ALL THINGS CUTE AND FLUFFY. So of course she loved her boyfriend’s cheeks, which were all round and oh-so-biteable, especially with the slight swelling from his recent wisdom tooth removal.

“You’re so cute,” she blurted, unable to keep her hands from poking the breadroll that was Park Sunghoon. He slightly winced from the contact, and Mila retracted her hand with a hasty, “Sorry.”

Mila still remembered when he first got home from the procedure. He was loopy—well, loopier than usual—and couldn’t last a second without blurting out the most adorable rambles while clinging to her like a baby, pouting and whining whenever one of the members stole her attention. He was just so… so… munchable! (Was that a word?) And the sight of his puffy cheeks as he scrolled on his phone made her heart and fists clench with the urge to attack him (affectionately, of course).

“You’re staring,” Sunghoon said, looking over the top of his phone to where Mila sat on his bed with a pillow in her lap, neither cuddling nor coddling him, but remaining fixated on his face for the past half an hour or so.

Mila nodded. “Eung.”

She didn’t offer any explanation after that, and Sunghoon pouted before turning his attention back to his phone. When he wasn’t looking, Mila shuffled closer to him. She continued to get closer ubefore stopping when he looked directly at her.

“What are you doing?” Sunghoon asked.

“Nothing.” Mila blinked innocently. “Don’t mind me.”

Sunghoon hummed, before turning his attention back to his phone. Mila immediately took the chance to lean down and enclose her mouth around one of his cheeks—her lips covering her teeth—and applying the slightest bit of pressure. “Nom.” She giggled before pulling away, watching as Sunghoon raised a hand to his cheek.

He turned to Mila with a smile. “What was that for?”

Mila shrugged. “Just because.” She swiftly leant down to place a peck on his other cheek. “I can’t help it.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “You did it wrong.”

Mila titled her head curiously. Sunghoon smiled as he let his phone fall to his chest before reaching up to cup Mila’s cheeks in his hands. Without another word, he brought her face down to his, pressing his lips softly against her squished cheek, causing her to giggle. Then when she least expected it, he let his fangs protruded form his lip, the canine subtly pricking the soft skin, causing her to whine in protest.

Sunghoon pulled away while laughing, as Mila pouted at him. “What was that for?”

“Just because.” Sunghoon smiled warmly as he pulled her down to his chest, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “I can’t help it.”

And Mila loved all things fluffy and cute. So of course she loved this moment right here and now.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

PREV

FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

NEXT >>

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

[dayasan]

Among some of my minor criticisms of FFXVI is the fact that Dorys is the only female Cursebreaker, and there don't appear to be any female soldiers anywhere at all. While plenty of women in the game do battle and hold positions of power and authority, they seem like exceptional examples as the unnamed cast that is supposed to be reflective of the populace and its ranks is lacking in representation. There's this idea that systems of oppression like misogyny aren't present (or are far less prominent) in Valisthea, but it falls flat when the game design doesn't take into account what that would actually mean.

[not-poignant]

Can you do 20 + 23 for Gary for the ask game

Going with Dr Gary from Falling Falling Stars:

20. Does your character like to argue?

He likes to debate things, but I wouldn't say he likes arguing in a sort of 'raising his voice / arguing for the sake of arguing' kind of way. We can see him enjoying sort of...getting into disagreements with Efnisien in the sense that he doesn't shy away from them and he believes they can be a useful tool in therapy, so he's not always very concerned with keeping the peace!

I don't think he would have ended up in the job he was in, if he didn't enjoy some belligerence from his clients at times! Or gently rebuffing that with his quiet sureness.

I wouldn't say he's argumentative by default, but that he enjoys elements of debate and discussion, and that if other folks weren't used to that or avoided any kind of confrontation, they'd see that as arguing! But Dr Gary doesn't, heh.

23. Describe your character in an unkind way, then describe them in a loving way.

I feel like we have the entirety of Falling Falling Stars for this! Both when Efnisien tells Dr Gary that his degree comes from a cereal box, or that he's bad at his job, or that he wants Efnisien to be miserable etc. And then towards the end, we have Efnisien describing Gary as someone who has always been there for him and looked out for him, and someone who has always been very careful and compassionate towards him. :D

~

From the OC Ask meme!