The sandstone arches of Banaras Hindu University’s Sociology Department were bathed in the mellow afternoon sun, the air thick with a mix of excitement and tension. The department noticeboard had been updated just that morning — the final list of PhD Sociology admissions for the session. Students clustered around it in groups, pointing, whispering, snapping photos.

Two names, written in bold, seemed to gleam more than the others:

Kim taehyung — JRF Awardee, AIR: 4
Jeon IU — JRF Awardee, AIR: 11

IU let out a whistle, her arm instantly looping around tae’s shoulders.

IU-: Madam Topper....look at you. Still first. Still perfect. And now officially Dr.-in-the-making.

Tae smiled shyly, adjusting the strap of her bag. She’d been at the top before — in school, in her Bachelor’s, in her Master’s — but this time, it felt different. Bigger. Scarier. Because PhD wasn’t just a course. It was a commitment of years, a deep dive into research that could either crown her with glory or crush her under its weight.

IU-: So PhD kaun supervise kar raha hai?

Tae-: No idea yet.

They entered the notice board area.
And then-Tae froze .Her name. Her registration number. And right beside it-
PhD Supervisor: Prof. Jeon jungkook

Her brain stopped functioning.She stared.
Once Twice Then

Tae-: (whispered)...No.

IU-: ( leaned in) What? Ohhhhooo.... Bhai....

Tae-: (dramatically ) arey..... Nhi.... Yeh kya mzaak hai.... ab yeh 24×7 yha bhi apne pass mujhe rkhenge

IU-: (giggled) voh toh voh tere adviser nhi bhi hote fir bhi tujhe apne pass hi rkhte....

Tae grabbed her head

Tae-: haa.... Aur ab toh inke pass proper excuse hai.... Mujhe apne samne hmesha rkhne ka....

Counseling Day

The following week, they were seated in the Department’s wood-paneled seminar hall for counseling. Professors sat at the front, papers in hand, calling each candidate in alphabetical order.

Jungkook was at the far end of the table — crisp white shirt, black waistcoat, hair perfectly in place. His expression was unreadable, his posture commanding. He glanced up briefly as tae entered, his eyes locking with hers for the barest second.
In front of the other faculty, his voice was all business.

Jungkook-: ( he said, his pen tapping lightly against her file) Miss. tae ....Your research proposal on ‘Digital Labour in Urban Informal Economies’ is promising. You’ve cleared NET-JRF and GATE. You’ll be allotted to my supervision, if you agree.

The “if you agree” was pure formality. They both knew she already belonged to him — academically, emotionally, and in every other way.

Tae-: (soft, low voice ) I… agree, sir

If anyone noticed the flicker of something dangerous in jungkook’s gaze, they didn’t comment.

The next days blurred into a rush of paperwork — certificates, mark sheets, ID proofs, research plans. IU was her whirlwind companion, darting from office to office with energy that tae could only envy.

In the Registrar’s Office, IU nudged her when jungkook’s name appeared on the supervisor list.

IU-: (smirked ) You lucky thing. Half the girls in the department would kill to have him as an advisor. And you… well, you’ve got him 24/7.

Tae’s cheeks flamed, but she stayed silent. Only IU knew the truth — that those late-night “study discussions” were often anything but innocent, and that jungkook’s guidance came with an intensity that made her shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with academic rigor.

Though they had already been selected, the department still held formal orientation interviews to assess research readiness. Ishki sat across from a panel of professors — including jungkook — answering questions about methodology, theoretical frameworks, and fieldwork ethics.

his voice, when he questioned her, was neutral, precise.

jungkook-: And how do you plan to address the ethical implications of studying informal labourers in urban settings?

Her answer was clear, well-prepared — but her pulse raced at the way his eyes held hers for a fraction longer than necessary, the silent conversation beneath the academic one.
You are mine.

Yes… sir.

Jungkook sat in his cabin, calm, composed, glasses on.
A knock. And he already knew....

Jungkook-: (reading something) Come in bchcha.. you don't have to take permission to enter in our cabin.... You can come directly....

Tae entered with the documents for final verification and submission.

He smiled while looking at her.....

Jungkook-: good morning Mrs jungkook

She smiled innocently

Tae-: Shut up....we're in university

He stood, walked around the desk, lowered his voice

Jungkook-: correction jaan.... We're in our cabin and you're mine.

Tae-: (Her cheeks flushed )Sir....

He kissed her forehead quickly, softly.

Jungkook-: Welcome back bchcha....

Then she gently moved back....

Tae-: (stared at him)You're my supervisor?

Jungkook-:( nodded) Apparently.

Tae-:  (crossed her arms) apne mujhe bataya kyun nahi?

jungkook-: I found out yesterday.

Tae-: Haa toh mujhe btana chahiye tha naa

Jungkook-: Isme btana kya hai jaan..... Its obvious and self explanatory...... 

then while pulling her closer towards him while holding her waist

Jungkook-: you know how obsessed I'm for you..... Obviously....mai tumko kaise kisi aur prof ke under PhD krte hue dekh skta hoo....

Then kissed her lips gently making her shy and blushing her like hell.....

Tae-: Y-yeh aap kya krrhe hai.... Hatiye koi dekh lega.....

Jungkook-: Koi nhi dekhega.... Door is locked....

Tae-: This is unethical

Jungkook-: No.... This is love......

He kissed her again

Jungkook-: don't forget baby.....  This cabin is ours and you....you're mine..... So how is this unethical.....

He pulled her more closer and whispered in her ears

Jungkook-: I'm claiming what's mine....so its purely ethical....

At home, the energy was different. The jeon Mansion was vast, its high ceilings and sprawling gardens a world away from the crowded BHU campus. Here, jungkook was not “Professor " — he was her BF, her anchor, her storm.

IU’s presence kept them careful during the day — but nights were their own. Jungkook would return from his study, papers still in hand, and find her at the desk in their room, scribbling notes for her coursework.

Jungkook-: Still at it?

he’d murmur, stepping behind her, his hands sliding down her arms.

Jungkook-: Do you know how distracting you look when you’re this focused?

Sometimes, he’d quiz her on theory and methods, his questions as sharp as in the classroom. But when she answered correctly, the reward was not just verbal praise — it was his lips at her ear, his breath warm, his voice dark.
It was a different kind of education — one no university curriculum could list.

The first semester of their PhD was an odd mix of freedom and discipline. Unlike Master’s classes, the sessions were fewer, but heavier — Research Methods, Sociological Theory in the 21st Century, Advanced Data Analysis.

The PhD research scholars sat in a smaller seminar room, their numbers fewer but their egos sharper. Every student here was a topper somewhere, a gold medalist, a JRF awardee. Competition crackled in the air like static.

IU, ever the lively one, leaned across to tae during the introductions.

IU-: Half of them are sizing you up already . The ‘Topper Girl’ reputation follows you like perfume.

Before tae could reply, the door opened, and the room stilled.

Jungkook entered.
He didn’t rush. He never rushed. The sound of his footsteps alone was enough to straighten postures. His eyes swept over the room — lingering for an extra breath when they landed on her.

Jungkook-: Good morning, research scholars

he began, placing his leather folder on the desk.

Jungkook-: I expect rigor. I expect independence. And I expect you to know that in this room, titles and rankings matter less than your ability to produce meaningful research. If you want hand-holding… go back to your Master’s.

There was a soft ripple of laughter, but tae kept her gaze low. She knew better than anyone — jungkook’s idea of “hand-holding” in public was non-existent. But in private…

The BHU Central Library became their second home. IU often sat with her, the two of them buried under piles of books — Bourdieu, Foucault, Saskia Sassen.

But when IU stepped away to fetch a reference text, jungkook sometimes appeared, his tall frame blocking the light.

jungkook-: (low but firm voice) Show me your notes

She’d pass her notebook, her fingers brushing his. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a shiver through her.

Jungkook-: You’re over-citing secondary sources

he murmured, leaning close enough that only she could hear.

Jungkook-: I told you — go to the field, collect your own data. Don’t be lazy, Mrs jeon jungkook

Her breath caught. That name — spoken in a place where no one else could hear — felt like a kiss in itself.

Some days later.....

It happened one humid afternoon after a research seminar. The corridors were almost empty. Tae was carrying a pile of articles when jungkook’s voice called from behind.

jungkook-: Stay back a minute.

She obeyed, waiting until the last student turned the corner.

He stepped closer, his eyes sweeping over her face.

Jungkook-: You’ve been avoiding eye contact all day.... Why??

Tae-: I… I didn’t want people to—

Jungkook-: To what?

He cut in, leaning so close she felt the faintest brush of his breath.

jungkook-: To notice that my eyes follow you? That every time you speak in class, I imagine exactly how your lips felt last night?

Her knees almost buckled.
A sudden sound — footsteps — broke the moment, and he stepped back smoothly, his expression once again unreadable. But as he passed her, his hand briefly, deliberately brushed against hers, a silent promise of the night to come.

Jungkook-: wait for me..... I'll drop you....

Tae nodded in yes..... Then they went back to their works......

                            ✳✴❇✳✴❇

😍Aaj keliye bs itna hi.... Aagey kya hoga jaane keliye.... Pdhte rhiye ISHQBAAZIANS KI ISHQBAAZI.....😘

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