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jimmeo-kookliet · 2 days ago
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'There’s a song that I sang with Jiminie-hyung! It’s on Soundcloud.'
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smoochkooks · a day ago
—chapter thirteen: this is a story of love
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this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.
pairing: jeon jungkook/reader
genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut
word count: 1.2k
summary: “this is a story of love so strong, it reaches stars. love so strong, that it makes you weak. love even greatest poets couldn’t find the right words to describe. but I did. I had my heart broken so many times, I wrote an ode to honor it.” 
previous || next
a/n: here’s what the cover of oc’s book looks like :) 
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Three months later
There’s a scene at the end of Little Women that hasn’t left your mind ever since you saw it two years ago.
Jo March is standing behind a glass wall. Her eyes, wide with fascination, glued to the picture before her: a book – her own story about March sisters – is being printed.
Two years ago, at the cinema, you wouldn’t have even dared to think that one day, this could be you – at the printing house owned by Varieté Publishing, watching An Ode To A Broken Heart coming to life.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
Jung Ji-eun, the woman from Varieté appointed to monitor the release of your book, looks as polished as always. Her auburn hair is longer again, and you wonder if she reconciled with her husband after all.
“I always take here our new authors to show them how the whole process looks like,” she says, a hint of smile on her plump lips, tainted with dark nude matte lipstick. “That’s the moment most of them actually starts realising this is really happening, that they’re soon gonna have their books sold all over the country.”
Casting your eyes down, you once again take a glance at the book in your hands. The very first, printed copy of An Ode To A Broken Heart Ji-eun handed you today upon arriving at Varieté. Somehow it looks much different than what you saw on the computer’s screen when the design team showed you the final draft of the cover. It looks even better up close, feels real when you’re holding it, and smells just how you love. Like new books.
The art piece you choose is simple yet it carries meaning hidden underneath the black swirls and lines. Two faces, their eyes closed. Man planting a kiss on woman’s forehead. Gesture of intimacy, yet it’ll never be more than that.
“It feels so... weird. I can’t believe it’s all true,” you respond to Ji-eun after a moment, shaking your head. “But I’m happy. So, so happy and grateful. I might be a writer but right now I can’t find the right words to describe my emotions well.” you chuckle.
Ji-eun smiles, this time without hesitation, and places her palm on your shoulder. “And we are happy to have such a talented, young artist collaborating with us. But before we officially celebrate, we need to discuss a few more things today. Want to grab a coffee with me?” she asks, to which you answer with a nod.
Minutes later, you’re sitting in a coffee shop across the street from Varieté. Ji-eun is scrolling through her iPad as you sip on your pumpkin spice latte.
“The ebook version of An Ode To A Broken Heart has scored the highest number of preorders ever since Cho Nam-joo announced the publication of Kim Ji-young, Born 1982,” she says and shows you the Instagram post on Varieté’s account which officially started your book’s promotions. “Look here. We were worried before that people wouldn’t like the author being anonymous but they are actually more intrigued to read it now.”
jisoo.choi1996: Can’t wait to read it! I wonder who Magnolia May really is.
meimeireads: I love sad stories. I’m ready to cry.
soheexoxo: anonymous author? she must have been hurt by that guy sooo bad. poor girl
kimeunha89: Preview seems really interesting. I normally don’t go for angsty stories but I’m curious about his one
“Wow,” you murmur, reading the comments. They’re all so nice, sending you words of encouragement. You didn’t think you’d receive such positive feedback. “So people are into unrequited love stories, after all.”
Ji-eun laughs, for sure reminded about her own words of concern she said to you during your first meeting. And here you are now, just a few days before the official release.
“So Soohyun didn’t confess to Haneul, after all,” she states, placing down her iPad on the table. She’s referring to the main characters of the book that are supposed to represent you and Jungkook. “But that last conversation between them wasn’t in the final draft, though. Why did you insist on adding it?” she asks.
Taking a deep breath, you recall the memory Ji-eun is speaking of. You, dancing with Jungkook, the frown on his face when you told him the truth about Yoongi.
“Someone who was with me at the wedding suggested I should do so.”
Ji-eun lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You do understand what this scene might indicate for the readers?” That this is not an ending, you answer silently. “It for sure gives them some scrambles of hope, maybe even more. Obviously, that’s a good strategy. People love to speculate. But why?” she presses. “Why did you end the story like that?”
“Maybe I’m not ready to let it all go just yet.”
You think about Yoongi’s words. He might have misinterpreted the whole situation. From his point of view, it could’ve looked... intense, but you were there, in front of Jungkook, and you didn’t feel anything beside concern and anger coming from him. But again, your judgement might be as well clouded and you’re refusing to believe him because you’ve never had anyone look at your relationship with Jungkook from different perspective.
Look at it objectively.
“I know a thing or two about hope. I was hoping for a long time that my husband would change because I loved him so much that I didn’t think rationally.” Ji-eun confesses. You spare a look at her hands folded in front of you. There’s no wedding ring on her finger anymore. “Was I foolish to do so? Maybe. It didn’t work out for me but I don’t regret trying to fight. At the end of the day, hope doesn’t cost as anything.”
But are you really capable of waiting maybe yet another twenty years for Jungkook? You’ve already given up so much, yet it all appeared to be futile. And you know that even if one day you’ll move on and give your heart away to someone else, Jungkook will always remain there, burried deep inside your memory as your first and only true love.
In Greek mythology, when Pandora opened the box gifted her by the gods with countless plagues put inside, only one item remained and did not escape. It was hope.
“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” you quote.
One corner of Ji-eun's lips lifts up. “Pablo Neruda.”
You nod. “I like this quote because it refers to inevitability but it’s also about not losing hope even in the darkest times.”
“And that’s exactly what I wish you, ___,” Ji-eun says at last. “To find happiness even among all your hardships.”
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This is a story of love so strong, it reaches stars. Love so strong, that it makes you weak. Love even greatest poets couldn’t find the right words to describe. But I did. I had my heart broken so many times, I wrote an ode to honor it. This is my own testament of the things I had lost and never had them given me back. If I could dedicate this book to only one person, I would choose me.
To the new beginnings and hope.
Magnolia May.
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boricuarmy · a day ago
you come home with flowers | myg x reader
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↳ pairing(s) yoongi x reader ↳ genre(s) fluff, angst ( just a smidge ) ↳ disclaimer(s) jealousy ( though not too much ) ↳ word count 1.2k
A/N: Here is Yoongi’s part in the Getting Pranked line of works. Hope you all enjoy it. I’ll post another member tomorrow. So I hope you enjoy this one.
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You wanted to do a funny, little prank on your beloved boyfriend; you thought it’d be funny to see what his reaction was to someone else getting you flowers. He wasn’t easily jealous, I mean, why should he be when he’s BTS’ Suga, Agust D, Min Yoongi. Just kidding, but he wasn’t one to get jealous just because someone was looking or talking to you. He had full trust in your relationship and you, so you thought, “what if?” and decided to go ahead and head to your local floral shop. 
Besides, you've been wanting to buy a huge bouquet to put on your table center, so this would be such a good idea. You made sure you didn’t mention anything about flowers or needing some, just so it came as so sudden. 
Once inside you let the floral shop owner know you wanted a big bouquet to put as a centerpiece, you asked for pink roses, red spray roses, pink alstroemeria and pink carnations and anything else that would help it pop out. When they were done with it, a big, wide smile appeared at how beautiful it looked. It was absolutely gorgeous in reality, it looked even better than you had imagined it.
Giving a bow in thanks, you left the shop after paying for them, it was convenient that Yoongi had called you saying he’ll be home early. It was an early day for them, so he just couldn’t wait to spend it sleeping with his arms around you. Once you headed home, you tried to come up with a good lie, but you instantly thought of a good one. Laughing just a little, you waited until you got a text from him telling you he was home and where you were.
Cariño😽💘💏: Agi, where are you?
You: Sorry Cariño, I’m coming up now. xx
You climbed up the steps to the elevator in the main lobby; as soon as it stopped on your floor you walked to your door. Taking a deep breath, you tried to stop smiling, biting your bottom lip, unable to straighten your face. Once you had your emotions under control, you input your code and called out, “Cariño! I’m home!” Taking your shoes off at the front door, you smiled, putting your purse on the small table next to the door. “I was running some errands that needed to be done.”
Yoongi nodded his head at your explanation, coming to you until he raised a brow at the flowers in your hand. He watched you walk to the table, gently placing the flowers down so you can grab an empty vase. The nice tall one he’d gotten you on your anniversary. “Those are nice.” He walked to the table looking down at them, while you came over with the vase and scissors. “Aren’t they? He knows how to pick beautiful flowers.” Eyebrows sprung up in confusion, before they scrunched in just the slightest bit of anger, “He?” You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek, before sitting on the table, ready to trim the bottoms. “Yeah, I ran into a coworker while I was out doing errands and he invited me to have coffee. Then he got me these flowers as thanks for helping him with his work.”
Yoongi just stared at you and frowned with some form of jealousy bubbling, “Does he normally give his female coworkers bouquets?” You hummed, messing with the leaves with a shake of your head, “I don’t know, but he definitely should if this is his arranging skills. It’s pretty amazing.” Yoongi pushed the vase away from your hold and stood behind you, hands on your shoulders, rubbing them as though trying to get the thought of another man out of your mind. “I’m not a flower expert, but red roses and pink carnations are not what I would give to a female coworker.” Tilting your head, pursing your lips as you reached to pull it back to you, “I didn’t even think you believed in stuff like that. It was just a thank you gift.” Yoongi rolled his eyes before grabbing the other chair and scooching it close to you before taking a seat. “What’s your coworker’s name?”
You didn’t bother looking in his direction, staring fondly at the flowers, “What does it matter?” A sigh escaped him before he moved the vase again, only to grab hold of your hands so you could look at him while you both spoke, “Aegiya, what if this guy has other motives. You shouldn’t accept gifts like this where it looks like he’s courting you.” Pulling your hands out of his to place on your hips, staring at him with a frown, “It’s not that big of a deal, Cariño. They’re just flowers. So every gift you receive from Army, it’s alright. Yet I get a single gift, which just so happens to be a beautiful bouquet of flowers, is it a problem?” 
Yoongi frowned at that and rolled his eyes as he spoke, “If you want flowers, tell me. I’ll buy you all the flowers you want. But receiving ones like this from some co-worker, I don’t like.” You got up from your chair to your purse, coming back to sit but this time with your phone. “You want to know who got these for me?” Yoongi stared at you, wanting to know who he had to teach some boundaries and respect.
After some clicks, you handed your phone for Yoongi to take, before he looked down. Confused when it was your banking account, brows scrunched in pure confusion, before you smirked and tapped the most recent transaction that was still under pending. As soon as he spotted the name of the company, his face showed even more confusion as he questioned, “What?”
You laughed and gently shoved his shoulder, “I bought the flowers. I did see a co-worker on my errand runs, but we just greeted each other and kept walking. I bought the flowers myself.” Feeling absolutely foolish and stumped, he gave a smile of absolute disbelief and hilarity, throwing his head back. “Did you like my prank?” You teased, getting up from your seat and going to take a seat on his leg, and he turned to the vase of flowers, “You’re right, these flowers are beautiful together.”
He pulled the vase closer to the both of you and you gave him a big kiss to his cheek, running the hand that's in his hair to rub his scalp, “Now you love them when I bought it?” A smile appeared before he responded, “Yeah, I like it much better.” Pleased, you gave him a kiss before going to get ready for a relaxing rest of the day.
The next day, you woke up from a knock on the door and you woke up, opening the door to find a delivery worker, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” You nodded and they gave you a clipboard to sign, next thing you knew an even bigger bouquet than you’ve ever seen came in and your eyes widened, only to see the card and shake your head with a smile. ‘That's how you buy flowers.’ You’d have to remind yourself to give him a big kiss when he comes home.
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vyduan · a day ago
The Perfect Suit
Author: vyduan Pairing: Kim Namjoon | Reader, Kim Seokjin | Reader, Kim Namjoon | Kim Seokjin Genre: romance, comedy, light angst, friends to lovers, slow burn, smut Word Count: ~10.3k Rating: Explicit, 18+ Warnings: m to f penetrative sex, m to m anal sex, m to f oral sex [AO3]
Notes: I don't know what it is about Kim Seokjin but tis the season for Jin and he's just such a delight. The fic came about because I dreamt of Jin (twice) in one night and it was unbearably wholesome that I just had to create a backstory for the scene. I'll share the scene at the end.
Special thanks as always to @bangtanbeforebitches​ for reading the first two sections in real time and always loving me. You are the best beta a person could ever hope for. (Friends, I met her IRL for D1 and D2 of BTS concerts and we were roomies and she is EVERYTHING!!!)
Summary: Seokjin Kim is sitting with Yoongi and Hoseok at the table waiting on the rest of their party when you stalk into the bar — all dark hair, power suit, and power heels — deep in some contentious discussion with a much taller man — also clad in a power suit. He pegs you two as a couple given the obvious crackling chemistry — your hand is gripped intensely around the man’s forearm, and Seokjin is surprised when your face lights up at the sight of Yoongi and you veer toward his table.
For more of my fics, here is my Masterlist.
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Seokjin Kim is sitting with Yoongi and Hoseok at the table waiting on the rest of their party when you stalk into the bar — all dark hair, power suit, and power heels — deep in some contentious discussion with a much taller man — also clad in a power suit. He pegs you two as a couple given the obvious crackling chemistry — your hand is gripped intensely around the man’s forearm, and Seokjin is surprised when your face lights up at the sight of Yoongi and you veer toward his table.
“Yoongi, tell Joonie he’s wrong,” you say as you plop — you plop — into the high-end bar chair.
“You’re wrong, Joonie,” Yoongi repeats flatly, clearly humoring you.
The man Seokjin presumes to be Joonie sits down next to you, dimples out and fond, and grins sheepishly. “Ah, Y/N. You know it’s not really a right or wrong situation — it’s merely preference. Your client would prefer to alternate weeks with one dinner for custody and my client would prefer to split the custody in a 2-2-5-5 arrangement.”
Joonie leans back in his chair and puts his arm around the back of yours, casual — as if he is used to being in your space.
“You know it’s easier for 2-2-5-5 — they get the same nights each week for the kids and see them more often.”
You huff. “But it’s also nice to have less disruption to the children’s lives during the week. It sucks to constantly be shuffled.”
Joonie holds up his hands in surrender. “We’ve been arguing about this for hours, Y/N, and it’s fucking Friday. Can we please just agree to talk to our respective clients and try to get them on the same page?”
“You know we’re going to be so good at it that they’ll just switch sides and we’ll be having this same fucking argument next week,” you concede. “But also, Yoongi agreed with me and now you owe me a drink.”
Seokjin just watches as Yoongi holds out his hand expectantly and you pull out your wallet and slap him a twenty.
“You’re such a fucking cheater, Y/N,” Joonie scowls as he looks incredulously between you and Yoongi. “You literally just paid more for Yoongi to agree with you than it would have cost to pay for my drink.”
You wink at Seokjin and he is confused momentarily. Does he know you? If not, then why are you winking at him? But Seokjin didn’t get to where he was in life without knowing how to read a fucking room. And he thinks he’s got a bead on your chaotic energy and knows he can likely match you chaos for chaos.
He winks back and you reward him with a stunning grin. He would be head over heels in love with you already if he were the type to believe in love at first sight, but he was not so he is not.
“Oh, how rude of me,” you practically purr while sticking out a hand in greeting. “I’m Y/N and this is Namjoon.”
“I’m Seokjin, but you can call me Jin if that’s easier,” he says as he finds himself in your solid grip and handshake.
“Yes, that ‘Seok’ seems unreasonably difficult,” you say dryly. “How dare your parents name you in the manner of their people and expect Americans to learn and pronounce your name correctly?”
“Oh, Jesus. You literally just met him, Y/N,” groans Hoseok. “Can we just chill out on the ‘down with white supremacy’ and ‘fuck patriarchy’ shit just for one fucking night?”
“No, Hobi, I fucking cannot,” you hiss. “You know why? Because it’s inescapable.”
Namjoon hurries to flag down a server as he remarks conspiratorially to Seokjin, “We’re gonna need alcohol.”
“Every fucking time I’m in court with this one family court judge — he always butchers my name,” you fume as the man Seokjin formerly knew as Joonie sank his head into his hand. “It’s not even that difficult to say — especially when his last name is just a bunch of consonants strung together with the suggestion of a vowel.”
“Get a handle on your girl, Joon,” Yoongi gruffs with a hint of a smile. Seokjin can tell he’s just trying to piss you off and he’s here for it. “I have to work with Seokjin so please don’t shame me.”
“You do a great job of that all on your own, hyung,” grins Namjoon at the same time you seethe, “I belong to myself, Yoongi Min! Don’t you get all fucking problematic on me.”
The look on Yoongi’s face is like the cat who caught the canary and Seokjin bites back a laugh.
“I’m too old and too tired to make new friends — present company excluded, Seokjin — you seem a delight — and WHY HAS NO ONE EVEN MADE A HALF-HEARTED PROTEST — I AM NEITHER OLD NOR TIRED — HOW ARE WE FRIENDS — I HATE YOU ALL!”
“I hope you didn’t include me in that screed,” a slight man with lips that could give Seokjin’s a run for his money says as he slides in behind you and hooks his arm around your neck for a back hug of sorts.
“Jimin-ah,” you say, “I told you: no choking me in public. What would the children say? Think of the children!”
“We don’t kink shame, baby,” Jimin admonishes. “We shame white supremacists — and people who can’t tell the difference between your and you’re.”
You pat Jimin endearingly on the side of his cheek and say, “Don’t forget, we also shame those who don’t acknowledge the masterpiece that is ‘Starship Troopers.’”
“Were either of you even born when that movie came out?” asks Seokjin.
“Oooooh!” you squeal. “Smooth! But also, if you want to know my age, you can just ask me. I’m not ashamed of my mature status.”
“I don’t think anyone would ever call you mature,” snarks Hoseok.
“Hurtful,” you toss back. “As if you and Joonie are any better. You’re lucky Yoongi loves you anyway.”
“You’re lucky Namjoon and I have tolerated your annoying ass since college.”
“Where did you go to school?” Seokjin interjects, hoping to prevent the conversation from devolving. He doesn’t know why since normally, he’s the one in the mix stirring shit up. But he finds himself wanting to know more about you despite the obvious boyfriend.
“Oh, Namjoon went to Stanford and Y/N and I went to Cal — but Joon and I have been friends since the third grade,” Hoseok explains.
“And then because she couldn’t get enough of me, Y/N followed me to UCLA for law school,” Namjoon smirks.
Your face is turning several shades of dark red and Seokjin is inexplicably charmed. “I — you —”
“As you can see, this is why she doesn’t go to trial much.”
“I don’t go to trial much because I’m a fucking excellent attorney and great with people and thus we settle out of court — saving everyone time and money,” you inhale a deep breath.
Seokjin readies himself for another onslaught of words — he’s getting used to your style and it’s been barely ten minutes.
“ — and Namjoon Kim — need I remind you that I chose family law first and you were going to go into corporate law but you realized that you wanted a family and wanted to see your as yet unborn children and decided that family law had a much better work-life balance so you’re fucking welcome!”
“You’re sorry you asked, aren’t you?” chuckles Jimin who has grabbed a seat by Seokjin during this exchange. “I’m Jimin, by the way.”
“Seokjin,” he replies. “Are they always like this?”
“Yes. It’s absolutely exhausting.”
“I can’t decide if they’re passionately in love or despise each other,” Seokjin ventures. “Is it wise for two divorce lawyers to date?”
“We’re family law attorneys,” you say at the same time Namjoon says, “Oh, my god — no — I — that’s disgusting. She’s practically my sister.”
You and Namjoon stare at each other and then each of you squawk at the other, “That’s what you’re choosing to correct?” followed quickly by, “You’re the absolute fucking worst!”
Seokjin is going to get whiplash and yet, he cannot help but bounce his head back and forth from your bickering. “Are you sure they’re not in deep denial?” he asks Jimin. “I find myself deeply invested.”
“Oh, we fucked,” you throw out nonchalantly, grimacing. “But we did not suit.”
“That was not my fault!” Namjoon insists.
“You can’t just shout, ‘Who’s your daddy!’ in the middle of fucking someone for the first time and expect them to not: a) hit you and b) laugh! You certainly don’t expect them to continue fucking!”
“I can’t believe you pushed me out of your vagina!”
“I have a very strong pelvic floor!”
“You have to discuss these things beforehand!”
“Like you’re so perfect!” Namjoon protests. “I seem to recall you insisting you’re great at blowjobs and then gagging and barfing all over my dick!”
“Your dick is fucking huge! And you thrust! You have to give a girl warning!”
“False advertising is what it was,” Namjoon grumbles. “Or how about that time I was going down on you and your period started and you took one look at me and said, ‘I vant to suck your blood’ in a Dracula accent?”
“Um, that was genius. I was hilarious!”
“I was traumatized.”
“It’s a perfectly natural body fluid. We could have filmed it and made tons of money!”
“Well, it’s not like I bled all over your face on purpose.” You pout charmingly. “I did make it up to you and you nutted in seconds,” you snicker, “so I guess you weren’t that traumatized.”
“Wait. How many times did you guys fuck?” Seokjin interrupts.
“A lot,” Namjoon says while you add, “But we didn’t like it.”
“That’s an awful lot of fucking if you didn’t like it,” he observes.
You draw your body into the most prim and proper demeanor he has seen on you since you walked through the door. “We believe in having an adequate sample size.”
“Aw, Y/N,” Namjoon croons. “You know I’m more than adequate.”
You eye Namjoon affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Biggest dick I’ve ever had. Get over yourself.”
Seokjin is greatly entertained. He leans over to Yoongi and says, “Thanks for inviting me along. This is so much better than whatever I was going to do.”
“They haven’t even started drinking yet,” says Yoongi. “You’ll regret this soon enough when it’s like the millionth time they’ve rehashed their sexual exploits.”
“Please,” you scoff. “I know you and Hobi get all worked up from these stories and go home to fuck it up. I see you, Yoongi Min!” You turn to Seokjin and add, “No seriously. I literally saw him and well, damn. Stroke game on point.”
“You’re such a fucking pervert,” Hoseok insults with no heat.
“Says the man who left the door to his room open on purpose. Don’t act like you didn’t want me to know.”
“They used to be roommates,” Namjoon clarifies for Seokjin. “That was one debauched apartment.”
“See what I have to deal with?” sighs Jimin. “They have all the fun together and never invite me.”
“Untrue!” you cry. “It’s not our fault that you met us when they all got boring.”
“I see you’re still as terrible as ever at self-assessment,” sighs Namjoon.
You stab a very menacing finger into Namjoon’s dimple. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not boring now.”
Namjoon shakes his head, bemused. “You’re right, Y/N. You’re the only interesting one left.”
“That’s right, Joonie,” you coo. You cast a sidelong glance at Seokjin and lift the corner of your mouth in a rakish grin. “I’m the only interesting one left.”
Your breath is hot and wet against Seokjin’s shoulder as he thrusts up into you and you lean down over him. Your moans are low and scratchy and stoke a primal urge in his gut. As he suspected, you continue to run your mouth even as he fucks you.
You are filthy and Seokjin finds he’s really into it. You are everything he had imagined back at the bar, listening to you banter with Namjoon.
Been thinking of your dick inside me since the moment I laid eyes on you, you murmur. Want you to break me in half, Seokjinnie. Want you to ruin me for all other dicks — even Namjoon’s.
Seokjin inadvertently groans out loud. He doesn’t know why the thought of Namjoon makes his dick harder — oh wait. Of course he does. Namjoon is hot as fuck.
Oh, you pant. You like that, don’t you? Bet you want to watch Namjoon fuck me hard as you jerk off and come all over my face — or is it Namjoon’s face you want to come all over?
His fingers tighten around your hips and he wonders idly if they’ll leave a bruise. If you’ll look at them in the morning and get aroused all over again while remembering him inside of your body.
I bet if you say, ‘Please,’ and call Namjoon ‘Daddy,’ he would let you fuck him, too. Or would you rather your mouth be on his huge fucking dick?
The combination of your words and the memory of Namjoon’s thick body and deep voice causes Seokjin no little amount of distress. He’s going to come soon if he doesn’t get it together.
Seokjin renews his attentions on you. He grabs your ass. He sucks on your tits. He rubs your clit. His only hint that you’re close is your guttural litany of fuckfuckfucks and stuff me full just like that yes fuck yes fuck.
When you come, you sink your teeth into the meat of his shoulder and Seokjin thinks of Namjoon fucking him in the ass and your pulsing pussy around his dick and comes, too. Not for the first time that night does Seokjin think agreeing to hang out with Yoongi was one of his better life choices.
“So, what’s your story?” Namjoon asks as they lean against the bar.
The slightly taller man is casual today — denim jacket, loose white tee, baggy jeans, and a backwards snapback. His skin is golden and tan and shows off his white, white teeth.
Seokjin is trying very hard to listen to what Namjoon is actually saying and not be distracted by Namjoon’s throaty laugh and deep voice. He does not miss the way men and women alike are staring at Namjoon with open lust. He acknowledges that his own face may resemble theirs and decides that he doesn’t care.
When Seokjin takes a beat too long to answer, Namjoon rakes his eyes over Seokjin knowingly and chuckles. Fuck.
“I’m really good with numbers and people and I can get away with being an occasional asshole in order to get shit done. Did that long enough and am now a principal at Tiger Private Equity like Yoongi.”
“Ah, the beauty bias in full effect.”
Seokjin laughs. “You trying to get in my pants or am I just easy?”
Namjoon’s dimples pop out as his smile widens into a full grin. His eyes crinkle — and they would be adorable if not for the heat Seokjin can feel searing into his own.
“I don’t go after Y/N’s sloppy seconds,” Namjoon says, voice laced with good-natured humor. “She’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“Who says she has to know?” Seokjin brazens.
Namjoon pauses to consider. “She always finds out.”
Seokjin can’t tell if Namjoon is just being coy or is letting him down easy. He decides to test it one more time. He saw the way Namjoon checked him out. He knows what his assets are and how his brightly colored Louis Vuitton shirt screams for attention while showing off his body. He knows how his strategically torn jeans hug his ass and offer a glimpse of his muscular thighs.
Seokjin knows all these things about himself; he just doesn’t know Namjoon.
“Maybe she’d want to join,” Seokjin says instead. “I have to confess, I am very intrigued about the move she pulled that had you nutting in seconds.”
Namjoon raises an intrigued eyebrow. The gesture goes straight to Seokjin’s dick and he’s not at all ashamed. Seokjin also knows what he’s packing. He knows how to use it, too.
“We’re not like that anymore,” Namjoon says, his voice strained. “And to be honest, you have to earn that move — and I don’t know that you have yet.” Seokjin chances a look at Namjoon’s crotch and sure enough, he sees a telltale bulge.
“Hmmmm, yeah. Shame.”
“Did I mention that I’m very good at mergers and acquisitions?” Seokjin knows his eyes have that predatory gleam they get right before a close because Namjoon’s pupils blow out. “And I am very, very discreet.”
Seokjin spends the rest of the evening watching Namjoon pretend he isn’t going to come home with him that night. He watches as Namjoon flirts and teases the men and women who swirl around him in an ever changing flow of magma. Namjoon is hot and sexy and in full fuckboy mode.
No one approaches Seokjin because he has on his resting bitch face — the one that only the most confident of people will ignore and make an abortive attempt.
Seokjin knows he is practically smoldering.
He knows because Yoongi gives him some shit about it, but Seokjin doesn’t have any fucks to give unless it’s him buried inside Namjoon or Namjoon buried inside him.
“Thinking of Namjoon?”
Seokjin hears your low rasp against his ear. Your smirk is infuriating but Seokjin doesn’t mind. Not really. Not when you look like sex on legs and came in on the arm of a gorgeous woman with silver curls, dark umber skin, and cheekbones to die for.
“Who’s your friend?” he asks, skirting your question.
Your smirk only deepens and that low thrum in his gut flares. “Oh, Allaya? Just someone I’m considering keeping around.”
“Yeah. Wanna see how she meshes with these idiots.”
Seokjin regards your friend more carefully than before. “She seems to be meshing well with Jimin and that other guy.”
“That’s Taehyung.”
“Do you only know Koreans?” He doesn’t know why he asks except that it’s amusing to him.
“Obviously not.” You roll your eyes and direct your chin to your friend. “I’m an equal opportunist. It’s just that most men are so deeply disappointing and Hobi and Joon are one of the rare ones who aren’t. Their closest friends are Korean American and I guess I got sucked into their nonsense.”
Seokjin morphs his fierce smolder into a genial one. “They all seem great. I hope I can be counted as one of the group one day.”
You nod and then you turn menacing. He imagines that’s what you’re like in court and playing to win. He is not wrong.
“Joonie’s not like us, Seokjin.”
“And you’re telling me because…?”
“Joonie and I didn’t suit because he plays for keeps,” you say as you stare down Seokjin.
Suddenly, Seokjin is grateful he will never be opposite you professionally speaking and wonders how Namjoon manages.
“He loves with his whole soul and I knew that if we had kept fucking around, I would ruin something beautiful and precious.” Seokjin feels as if he is pinned in a dissection practical — all his viscera on display and poked at. “Don’t hurt my man, Seokjin. If you do, I will hunt you down and make sure you disappear in such a spectacularly mundane fashion that no one will ever think to question it.”
Seokjin swallows.
“Are you sure you’re not still into him?” Seokjin checks. He feels as if he should deserve a medal just for asking.
A look of grief passes over you so fast Seokjin would have missed it had it not seemed so alien on your normally vivacious countenance. “Our time has passed,” you say softly. “Namjoon deserves someone who will love him unabashedly — who will worship his spirit in the manner he is due.”
“Seems like you already do,” Seokjin observes quietly. He doesn’t know why he’s cockblocking himself and trying to set you back up with Namjoon.
You laugh, a bright, noisy thing. “I am way too cynical for Namjoon and his dreams of happily ever after. I see how people are at the end of their fairy tales.” You give an involuntary shudder. “No, thanks.”
“Namjoon still seems to have his sense of romance intact,” he says.
You sigh. “You know why I chose family law?” you ask. At Seokjin’s subtle shake of head, you continue. “It’s because women and children are the ones who bear the brunt of the system — which is designed to protect the property of men — and not the people who were once deemed that property.”
“Namjoon went into it because of the stable hours and dependable income,” you continue. “He mostly represents your run-of-the-mill divorce — and of course, a decent number of them turn nasty. But in general, he specialises in amicable ones. He’s great at negotiating custody and asset splitting and coming up with diplomatic solutions that both parties can accept.”
“And you?” he asks. “I thought you said you weren’t in trial much? It seems as if you do the same thing?”
“I do now,” you say, “but that’s not how I started.”
Seokjin shoots you a quizzical look.
“I started in the really bad domestic violence and emotional abuse cases.” You look away from Seokjin as if you had inadvertently shared too much of yourself. “I had an ax to grind and eventually burned out. I still take on the occasional tough case — but I generally stick to the generic suburban divorce now, too.”
Seokjin didn’t know what to say. “I see.”
“I don’t think you do, Seokjin,” you say. “Namjoon thinks that because he’s seen so many marriages end, he knows what mines and red flags to avoid and take care of from the jump. He is perhaps more of a romantic now than he was years ago.” You make a disgusted face but your voice belies your wistfulness. “It’s shameful.”
“But not you?”
“I’ve seen too much,” you growl. “Men are shameful.”
Seokjin is quiet. His soul rebels at being lumped in with men such as that — men who want to control and conquer with their words and their fists. He knows he is not that sort of person — but he also inherently understands how you will eviscerate him if he proffers something as worthless as “Not all men.”
No. Seokjin is not a genius but he certainly is not stupid.
Besides, he thinks he is not wrong in that you don’t hate men — you hate patriarchy. You hate men who abuse their power to crush women and children.
He wonders who hurt you, who drove you to protect these women, who convinced you that you couldn’t be with someone as amazing as Namjoon. He finds that he wants to hurt that someone and make them pay — all the while knowing it is too late. That no amount of pain he could exact would heal you.
He finds himself hoping the beautiful woman you’re with now will blossom into all the love you deserve and hope to have but are afraid to speak aloud. Seokjin finds himself uncharacteristically sentimental. He does not know what to do with himself and so instead, he says (and means), “Yeah, they really fucking are.”
Namjoon has Seokjin bent over his bed and is pommeling into him, hitting Seokjin in all the right places. He is bracing himself with his arms but Namjoon is so strong and so fast and so overwhelming. Seokjin has never been a small person but Namjoon is huge and Seokjin finally sees the appeal in feeling small and fragile — especially in between the capable hands and legs of Namjoon Kim.
Seokjin is also grateful for his regular routine of using sex toys 2 to 3 times a week as well as an appropriately pH-balanced formula douche before leaving for a night out. Otherwise, bottoming for a cock as large as Namjoon’s would be considerably less fun.
Namjoon is surprisingly not as mouthy as Seokjin expected — and he thinks for a moment that perhaps Namjoon is not enjoying himself. But then Namjoon pulls out and flips Seokjin onto his back.
“I don’t want to come yet,” Namjoon says, his voice so low that Seokjin almost doesn’t catch what he says next. “I want to see you, hyung.”
Namjoon rarely calls Yoongi hyung — and has never called Seokjin hyung before. It’s just not a thing in America — at least not in his experience. He certainly can’t speak for all Korean American men. But regardless, Seokjin is oddly touched. His heart feels three sizes too small, but he tries not to let it trip him up.
“Okay,” he responds.
Seokjin is not going to lie. Namjoon fucking him from behind was amazing. But Namjoon fucking him from the front? That is a religious experience.
Namjoon goes slow and soft and Seokjin thinks his brain might melt from how Namjoon is dragging out their mutual pleasure. He thinks he might expire from feeling — and he recalls your words — about how Namjoon plays for keeps. He wonders briefly what it would be like to be kept by a man such as Namjoon Kim.
Seokjin’s brain fritzes and he decides instead to think about that at some later moment — if ever — and to enjoy the sight of this dimpled man and his furrow of concentration as he strokes in and out of Seokjin and his hand strokes up and down Seokjin, too.
It’s a lot — and soon, but not too soon — Namjoon grunts and spills into a condom inside Seokjin and Seokjin groans and spills out, messy and white between them.
Seokjin is ensconced in the corner of their regular watering hole and having an epiphany of sorts. He doesn’t know if it’s a function of his work and constantly having to read and deal with — quite frankly — awful rich people all the time but lately, he hasn’t been feeling like himself.
He is usually quiet and more contained during his off-hours — but not necessarily this quiet and contained.
It could also be that he hasn’t gotten laid in months.
Seokjin briefly wonders if it’s because his casual little fling with Namjoon meant more to him than he’d intended and now that Namjoon seems to be thoroughly enamored with this Jungkook — like so much so that Namjoon has broken things off with Seokjin and now Seokjin kinda sorta hates this incredibly young, athletic, and tattooed Korean American man who, for all intents and purposes, is a lovely person.
Still, Seokjin is not a fan of this Jungkook Jeon.
The audacity of this stripling usurping his place in Namjoon Kim’s life is untenable. It’s lowering, really.
“I see you’re still sulking,” you say as you sidle up to him, two drinks in hand.
“I don’t sulk.”
You pass him one and he gratefully sips at the gin and tonic. “Hendrick’s?” he asks.
Seokjin nods in approval and appreciates your silence. He broods some more and wonders if this is his new thing. Surely his early-to-mid-thirties is a perfectly acceptable time to change concepts.
“You know, of all the outcomes I foresaw, not a single one of them included Seokjin Kim laid low because of Namjoon Kim.”
Seokjin hmphs with as much dignity as he can muster which is not much. He really is out of sorts. He is normally a very dignified person.
Okay, that is not remotely true in any timeline, but still, he feels as if he holds himself with as much dignity as an unrepentant troublemaker can adequately hold and still be chaos incarnate.
“I don’t know what this says about me or my character, but seeing you this whipped for Joonie makes me think more highly of you.” You check briefly to see if he is offended and he is not. Well, not a lot anyway. “Namjoon is the best man I know and I would have hated you if you weren’t at least a little heartbroken.”
“I am not heartbroken,” he insists.
You clearly do not believe him. Which makes sense because he doesn’t believe himself either.
“If it makes you feel better, I am highly suspicious of Jungkook Jeon, too. I just gave him the talk and maybe he peed his pants a little and Namjoon caught wind of it and perhaps yelled at me very loudly — and outside, too — which I very much despise so I am perhaps also feeling a little sulky,” you confess all in a rush.
Seokjin acknowledges your attempt at comfort.
“He’s so fucking young.”
It’s all Seokjin can say before he feels the crushing weight of his not-youngness. (He cannot bring himself to even think the word ‘old’ in any connection to his own self.)
“Ah,” you grunt.
Your “ah” says a lot. Seokjin can hear all the nuance and layers in that one “ah.” He is also perhaps on his way to drunkenness and he refuses to be sloppy. Not over Namjoon Kim.
“Was it a double?” he asks.
Your face flushes with guilt. “Maybe.”
“I still have to drive home,” he complains petulantly.
“I didn’t realize you were putting them away so quickly,” you say, referring to the row of empty glasses in front of him. “I’ll stay with you until you sober up,” you offer. “I may have ordered the double because I needed it, too,” you add. “You look how I feel.”
“They started getting more serious months ago, Y/N,” Seokjin quips. “You’re late.”
“I’ve been busy,” you shrug.
Seokjin blames the double G&T on what comes out of his mouth next. “You think Jungkook is hotter than me?”
“Look,” you say, “I am highly confident in my own hotness and if you slid into my DMs, I would not believe a damn word.”
Seokjin admires the deft way you dodged that bullet. “So my problem is that I’m too beautiful — that Namjoon doesn’t think I’m real and has thus chosen an actual infant instead of me.”
You sip on your drink and reply, “It’s the only explanation.”
The two of you finish your drinks and sit in tacit understanding that more talking is neither necessary nor desired. When you are both fit to drive home, Seokjin thanks you quietly and asks after Allaya. You smile a soft smile and say she’s great. You really like her and think she could be the one. She’s just so considerate and clever and doesn’t take any shit from you and yet she’s strangely gentle? You’re not quite sure how that’s possible. You blush at the admission — a weakness you don’t seem to enjoy displaying but cannot help doing so anyway.
Seokjin is happy for you despite being sad for himself. He is not a complete asshole and still knows how to be a good human despite not being good enough for Namjoon Kim.
He goes home and showers, hoping his desperation sloughs off under the waters and baptizes him into someone shiny and new.
Seokjin is demanding Jungkook do shots with him when he decides that Jungkook Jeon is alright. A bit too innocently doe-eyed to be trusted — but Seokjin allows Jungkook to hang around him like an overeager puppy and before he knows it, Seokjin is actually fond of the guy. He’s still not quite sure what it is that Jungkook does exactly — but he’s not sure he’s ever asked or paid attention due to keeping his mental peace or whatever.
Seokjin thinks that perhaps he should ask again because who knows when the next big deal will strike and it would serve him well to be on top of his game. He’s not dead yet — or however that saying goes anyway.
“Jungkook-ah, you’re alright,” he yells cheerfully when they finish two shots in a row. “Let hyung buy the next round!”
“Give the child some time to process what you’ve already forced him to imbibe, Seokjin. He’s terrified.” You are seated across from him, arm slung casually around Allaya.
“You’re not terrified of me, are you, Jungkookie?” Seokjin prods. “Hyung will take care of you, my darling moppet.”
To his credit, Jungkook only cringes a little. His relief is comically palpable when Jimin and Taehyung drag him away to do young people things. Yes, yes. Seokjin has adapted to the new lay of the land admirably well. He is back to his spry self and thinks that yes, perhaps he shall strut to the bar and pick up that woman who has been eye-fucking him all night. After all, doesn’t he deserve this moment?
He does. He absolutely does.
But he remembers himself and instead asks you and Allaya, “How have you been? I haven’t seen either of you two in months.”
“Working,” you say.
“Y/N has been, anyway,” Allaya replies. Seokjin notices the way Allaya’s pleasant demeanor flickers for a second. “You don’t have to keep us company, Seokjin. We know you have your eye on that hot ginger at the bar.”
Seokjin feels his ears flush. He likes to think of himself as subtle but sometimes, subtlety can backfire and maybe if he had been more obvious — to himself and to Namjoon — he wouldn’t be trying so hard to be nice to the perfectly lovely Jungkook. Seokjin is a youngish man of wealth and sophistication — he hates that he has to tag on the -ish but with these young bloods out in these streets these days — oh, no. He was drunk.
“I think I’m drunk.”
“That’s usually what happens when you do nonstop shots as soon as you arrive,” you observe caustically.
“We’re surprised you’re still coherent,” comments Allaya, amusement obvious in her dark eyes. She shakes her head and her two afro puffs bounce fetchingly. “Your liver is truly an organ to be admired.”
“I’ve had much practice,” Seokjin reveals starchily. “Nothing like drinking white fintech bros under the table. Asian glow my ass,” he grumbles. “I’m Korean. I was fucking born for this.”
“You are truly a testament to your people, Seokjinnie,” you assuage noncommittally. You sway into Allaya’s space. Seokjin is not too drunk to notice that you’re not quite sober yourself.
He watches as you whisper something in Allaya’s ear that parts her lush lips and warms her skin. He smiles, happy that you have also found love. He is so happy for everyone who has found love — everyone is so fucking in love — it’s wonderful.
He’s so very, very happy for you and Allaya and Namjoon and Jungkook and Hoseok and Yoongi and — well, he’s sure Jimin and Taehyung will find their own loves, too — perhaps at this very moment while he is so busy being so very happy for his friends.
Seokjin orders another round of shots and tells his friends how much hyung loves them and Yoongi flashes his gummy smile and Hoseok giggles and laughs and Seokjin barely notices how his heart twinges when he sees you leave with Allaya, all tumbled into each other.
Seokjin is balls deep inside some blandly pretty woman when he realizes he is tired.
He is really, really tired and after the week he’s had trying to rescue a deal after one of his VPs fucked up royally — like so irredeemably Seokjin actually asked Yoongi for advice and he’s still not quite sure talks will continue — he really does not want to continue fucking this Sally? Allie? He’s honestly not quite sure.
And so he pretends to come and though he feels bad that he’s not going to help this Sarah? Sharon? — What is her fucking name? — whatever — that he’s not going to be able to do her a solid and help her orgasm — and that it’s a mark besmirching his stellar reputation (if only in his own mind). He quickly ushers Sheryl? out his front door.
He really could have done the whole situation better and instead of calling up Yoongi and drowning himself in the noise and hullabaloo at his favorite establishment, Seokjin decides he’ll go to the gym and hit something. After all, isn’t that why he pays the equivalent of a small country’s GDP for his fancy club?
Of course, when Seokjin arrives at his fancy club, he belatedly remembers that though this new membership costs significantly more than his previous 24-hour gym, this place is only open from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. He berates himself because though he doesn’t pull as many late nights at work as he used to — sometimes, 10 p.m. is still not quite late enough.
He considers paying the exorbitant cancellation fee and switching back to his old gym. Seokjin is confident that he can charm his way out of the ridiculous fees as long as whoever is in charge of cancellations is into men.
Regardless, it is 11:30 p.m. and Seokjin is residually horny. Hey, it’s not his fault he wasn’t into her — what was her fucking name? — and that she sounded like a porno in the worst way that she possibly could. He was youngish and had lots of responsibilities and for fuck’s sake, isn’t he allowed to be selfish every now and then?
Seokjin ends up calling Yoongi after all and the two of them — considerably dressed down — head into their favorite bar — her name was fucking Greta! He had been totally off-base.
Seokjin runs into Yoongi’s back and when he looks up, realizes that Yoongi has stopped because Hoseok is in a dark corner of the very same bar with you enveloped in his embrace. Hoseok is rubbing your back and covering your hair with kisses and Seokjin can feel the tension leaving Yoongi’s body when he finally realizes that you’re sobbing and not in the middle of making out with his boyfriend. Seokjin also feels the tension creep back in the moment Yoongi realizes you are currently sobbing.
Seokjin is not sure how he processed all that information so quickly but before he knows it, he and Yoongi have joined you and Hoseok in the corner booth and you are lying through your tears saying you are fine, everything’s fine, Allaya doesn’t want you anymore and it’s all your fault — all your fucking fault — and love is a lie and you made her cry and you deserve to never eat mochi donuts ever again because you are a monster — a motherfucking monster.
Hoseok gives him and Yoongi the quick tl;dr version of events as best he can. You’ve been mired in a really nasty domestic violence divorce case that has you working nonstop and never being home and it’s affecting your health — and Allaya just couldn’t watch you kill yourself over this case anymore.
She just couldn’t, you sob.
She loves you too much to beg you to eat and sleep and be more than a machine, Hoseok explains.
But she doesn’t understand, you blubber. She doesn’t understand — this man is vile. The pictures, Hobi, the pictures of what he’s done to her, you wail. He’ll kill her and I don’t fucking care how much he threatens me. I’m not settling until that motherfucker is behind bars. When I am through with him, he won’t have shit and he won’t be shit and she’ll finally be safe. She’ll keep that baby safe.
Shame courses through Seokjin when he compares his work situation to yours. He knows he is in an industry that is awash in stupid amounts of money catering to stupidly wealthy people who are perhaps questionably worthy of all that money. And sure, he’s restructured and re-orged companies and maybe changed lives in that manner — but nothing on your level.
Not a single fucking thing.
When he finds out a few days later that this is all pro bono work and you only take on the most desperate cases, his shame compounds.
“Why does she do this to herself?” Seokjin asks Yoongi.
Yoongi shifts a little, unsure of how much of your history to divulge. “She feels obligated to give back,” he says cautiously.
“But at what cost?”
“She really should be the one to tell you this,” Yoongi says.
Seokjin thinks he’s getting the bigger picture — or at the very least, can make some logical inferences. He vaguely recalls you mentioning in passing a stepfather who was instrumental in restoring your faith in men. That your father had not been a good man.
But Seokjin recollects himself and doesn’t want to put Yoongi in a bind. “Ah,” he says. “Don’t worry about it, Yoongi-ah. Thanks for even telling me what you have. She is lucky to have you as a friend.”
Yoongi’s cheeks pink and he mumbles something along the lines of “it’s nothing” and they return back to trying to save the deal that was still in the shitter. But as they’re leaving the office, Yoongi adds one more bit of context. “They used to call her The Widowmaker because after she was done with you, you’d wish you were dead.”
Seokjin pauses a moment and then says, “I can see it.”
“She took on the worst cases and often worked closely with local district attorneys to pursue criminal prosecution as well. She was — she is — relentless.” Yoongi clears his throat. “They still ask for her by name when they really need help and this latest case has been even worse than normal.”
“Yeah. Funny thing is, people often hire her expecting her to be ruthless but generally, she encourages them to settle out of court and tries to be reasonable for all parties.” Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “That’s why she works so well with Namjoon. They’ve each built a solid reputation and are known to be peacemakers so they attract the couples who want to work things out.”
“What about the ones that don’t?” Seokjin asks.
“Well, then Y/N’s previous reputation precedes her and opposing counsel will recommend their clients become reasonable right quick.”
Seokjin finds that he cannot stop thinking about you in the upcoming weeks. He makes it his mission to check in on you — to make sure you’re eating and drinking water and maybe getting enough sleep. It’s weird because Seokjin has never had to take care of another human being before and he finds he quite likes it.
Some days, he drags you out to grab lunch in various hole-in-the-wall places and mocks your inability to eat spicy food.
“Look, Seokjin. I can eat spicy food — I just can’t quite compare to you and your people,” you object even as you shovel more maeundae galbi jjim into your mouth. “But I bet I can tolerate the mala dishes better than you can.”
Seokjin knows that the spicy braised short-rib stew is no joke and obviously, you can handle the heat. But he loves to troll you and you react so perfectly. “But numbing spices are cheating — you literally can’t feel your mouth. Of course you can eat more of it,” Seokjin protests.
“That doesn’t even make sense. If it’s numbing mouths, then we are equally at an advantage.”
“I have spoken!” Seokjin declares belligerently and rejoices internally when you crack a smile.
Other days, he drops by your office and badgers you until you scream that he is the most annoying human alive and you more often than not agree to joining him and the rest of the gang at the bar just so that he will shut the fuck up. Seokjin knows the real reason is because he is exceedingly handsome and bewitching and when he tells you this, you flail your arms about and screech some more.
It brings Seokjin great joy. So much fucking joy.
As the weeks turn into months, your case finally wraps up and Seokjin can tell you’re starting to return to more of yourself than you have been for the better part of a year. You no longer require his perhaps vexing reminders to eat and now, you occasionally drop by his office instead.
His team now recognizes you on sight and you have more than once joked to the managing partners that if they spend all their time at the office, they’ll be seeing you again soon enough — but from a far more disadvantageous vantage point. When they complain you merely wink and tell them that it’s just business. Surely they understand that, right?
And so, Seokjin finds himself at the end of their regular bar table with you to his right and Hoseok to yours when he realizes with a start that he is in love with you. He is ridiculously and utterly in love with you and oh, shit. He is really fucked and in for it now.
And you? You are perhaps slightly north of buzzed? You have somehow gotten ahold of his hand and are gently rubbing your thumb over his palm, sending disturbing tingles up his arm and down his spine and straight to his cock.
Sometimes, Seokjin really hates his cock.
You are happily intoxicated and chatting away with Hoseok who is eyeing you dotingly and smirking at the handholding and Seokjin is not nearly inebriated enough to be dealing with the sort of secondhand and firsthand embarrassment that have somehow coalesced into one giant embarrassment.
“You know what my favorite drink is?” you ask loudly and with great gusto.
“No,” Hoseok responds, a troubling glint in his eye.
“It’s JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN!” you crow as you shoot erratic finger guns in Seokjin’s general direction.
Seokjin wants to sink into the floor but instead, he plasters a fond grin over his face and stands up to give a little bow. You just pull him back down. When did you get a death grip? This is causing him bodily harm and he is not a little alarmed. You seem very strong for a drunk person and when he says so, you giggle.
Seokjin freezes.
He cannot remember ever hearing you giggle and he finds that he needs to hear it again immediately. He needs to hear you giggle repeatedly in his general vicinity.
You are a delight. A morsel. A crumpet full of nooks and crannies.
He is sure a look of horror is now on his face because Hoseok is laughing at him and not with him because Seokjin is not laughing. There is nothing funny about Seokjin’s flash revelation of how far gone he is for you.
He is utterly and completely fucked.
Your breath is hot and wet against Seokjin’s shoulder as he gamely tries to walk you up your front steps. The last time he was at your place, he had been deep inside you. Seokjin wants to kick himself for the reminder — especially when your grumbles are low and scratchy and stoke a primal urge in his gut. As he suspected, you are really fucking drunk.
“Come on, Y/N,” he encourages in a voice that is far kinder than he feels. “You’re almost inside. Do you know where your keys are?”
You shove your purse at him and he reluctantly digs through your various personal items and finally locates your keys. He manages to get you upstairs to your room and somehow gets you changed into an oversized t-shirt but fails completely at trying to get you into pajama pants due to your incessant yelling of, “Fuck pants! Fuck the pantriarchy!”
Seokjin attempts mightily not to notice the way your breasts sway heavy and low in your oversized t-shirt. When he tucks you into your bed, you stare up at him with your eyes wide and blurry.
“You are very nice to me, Seokjin Kim,” you state with great agitation, “and I don’t like it!”
Seokjin feels his lips tug upwards and cannot help himself. “Why don’t you like it?”
“It’s suspicious — very suspicious!”
“Is that right?” he chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”
“You do that! I will write you a list of my demands to help you remember.”
“Oh, you have more than one demand?” he asks, humoring you. He has never realized just how cute you could be and now that he knows, he will never be the same.
You fist his shirt and drag him closer to you. “A good negotiator always asks for more than what they want. I thought you, of all people, would know this.”
“I do,” Seokjin says softly. “A good negotiator also knows when to take a break.”
He cannot help himself. He leans over and kisses your forehead and then the tip of your nose. You are too precious to him and he can’t decide if this is character growth on his part or not.
You sigh and curl over on your side. “Thanks for being so nice to me, Seokjinnie,” you mumble. “I don’t like it because I love it.”
Seokjin isn’t sure what to do next but since you are already asleep, he gently strokes your hair once and then leaves quietly. He is glad you have at least one lock that can be locked without him using a key from the outside and heads home, his brain whirring alternately between hope and despair.
Seokjin wakes up the next morning to a flurry of embarrassed texts and apologies from you and a ton of nosey ones from Hoseok. He ignores Hoseok and attempts to put you out of your misery as quickly as possible with a good-natured, “No worries! I hope you feel better.”
You text back that you have seen better days but you will survive the battle to continue fighting the war and then you send another slew of embarrassed texts and apologies.
Seokjin cannot help but fall more in love with you.
Over the next few weeks, he finds that this continuous love-falling keeps happening. It’s like as soon as his mind acknowledged his unseemly conspicuous feelings, it saw evidence to bolster and buttress these feelings every-fucking-where.
You are infinitely lovable and Seokjin supposes that there are worse things in life than to witness how you move about the world (which is at an incomprehensible blend of lightning fast and mind numbingly slow).
Your collection of texts increases exponentially and Seokjin begins to hear your voice in his head all the time. He has even started to pick up your speech patterns and he knows this for a fact because the other day, Yoongi looked at him funny when he accidentally emphasized a sentence in the way you would.
Your prosody is leaking into him and it’s obvious and Seokjin can’t help but squeal internally that you are in him but in a nonsexual way.
Seokjin experiences markedly less adorable squealing when Namjoon corners him at the bar the next week.
“Y/N’s not like us, Seokjin.”
“And you’re telling me because…?”
“Y/N and I didn’t suit because she’s been hurt and hurt badly — and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t surmount it,” Namjoon says as he stares down Seokjin.
Suddenly, Seokjin is grateful he will never be opposite Namjoon professionally speaking and wonders how you manage.
“She’s cagey as fuck and I knew that if we had kept messing around, I would ruin something beautiful and precious.” Seokjin gets a disturbing sense of déjà vu. He feels pinned and on display and he doesn’t like it. “Don’t hurt my girl, Seokjin. If you do, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.”
“Did you just butcher Liam Neeson’s ‘Taken’ speech to me? Are you going to tell me you have ‘a special set of skills’ next?”
“It’s ‘a very particular set of skills.’”
“Well, I would hate to be inaccurate.” Seokjin swallows. “Are you sure you’re not still into her?”
A look of grief passes over Namjoon so fast that Seokjin would have missed it had he not known to look. “Our time has passed and I love Jungkook,” Namjoon says softly. “Y/N deserves someone who can love her even when she is prickly and reticent and overworking herself — who will understand why she is compelled to see these cases through despite them sucking the actual life out of her. She needs someone to remind her that she deserves to live her life, too.”
Namjoon narrows his dragon eyes at Seokjin and he’s not gonna lie. Namjoon is sexy. In a terrifying way.
But Seokjin is sexy, too. And he doesn’t need to pretend at being tough like Namjoon is — as if Namjoon — cozy, cuddly Namjoon — could ever find him and kill him. Seokjin is a fucking badass, too — though admittedly he prefers the boardroom to the courtroom. He won’t be threatened by his quasi-ex or yours. He doesn’t have to take this!
“No offense, Namjoon,” Seokjin starts, “but Y/N is a grown up and will do what she wants. I just want to be around to see her — to be with her.”
Namjoon examines Seokjin again — more closely this time. “Ah,” he breathes. “You love her, too.”
Seokjin wants to deny it. Wants to brush Namjoon off and play at being cool. But, no. Seokjin is not a genius like Namjoon but he certainly is not stupid. He knows a test when he sees one — and he always passes arbitrary tests.
“I do,” he says instead.
Oddly enough, he is not embarrassed. Seokjin is just stating facts to a man who also loves you, but knows you well enough to know that the two of you would never suit.
Namjoon crooks his mouth all wistful like. “I’m not the one you should be telling.”
“I’m not the one butting my head into other people’s business.”
The younger man tilts his head in sheepish acknowledgment. “Occupational hazard.”
“Thinking of me?”
Seokjin hears your smirk in the low rasp against his ear but Seokjin doesn’t mind. Not really. Not when you are the love of his life and came in by yourself looking like his dream come true.
Yes. “Who’s asking?” he replies instead while surveying the bar.
You thread your arm through his and lean your head against his shoulder. He wonders if you can hear the pounding of his heart.
“Does the answer change depending on who it is?”
“No.” He loves you and thinks about you all the time. He does not care who knows.
“No, you aren’t thinking of me or no, your answer doesn’t change? And if the latter, why does it matter then who is asking?”
“Yes, I was thinking of you. I’m always thinking of you.” He turns to you and tips your chin up. “No, my answer doesn’t change.”
Your eyes shine. He thinks you may love him, too.
“It matters because though I don’t care who knows, you’re the only one I want to know.”
“Oh,” you whisper. “I’m always thinking of you, too.”
Seokjin smiles and tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he says, his voice full of longing and gentleness. After all, he does not want to scare you away — though to him, you have never seemed scared of love.
You tilt your face and say, “I know.”
“Are you Han Soloing me?”
You snicker and slot your mouth to his. When you whisper, “I love you, too,” against his lips, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, the two of you will suit.
Seokjin isn’t surprised — not one fucking bit — when he hears his friends hollering and whistling in the background. After all, you’re the only interesting one left and all Seokjin feels is joy.
Seokjin blames his pro bono work for how exhausted he’s been lately.
He decides that he can only take on two non-profits a year to help streamline and restructure their org charts and make them — well, not necessarily profitable — but more efficient and thus, able to pay for more staff at living wages as well as serve whatever sector they are serving.
He is tired and you are a good sport. You know all about that overworked life. You’re good about not giving him unsolicited advice, too. Seokjin appreciates your discretion and candor in equal measure and why on earth is he thinking of work — free or otherwise — when he’s sheathed to the hilt in you?
It’s an unpardonable crime, really, and he attempts to get his head back in the game.
“If you’re tired, we can stop,” you offer.
Seokjin winces internally. He must have been really out of it if you could tell. “I’m sorry, love. My brain just won’t stop working.” He stills and though he is still inside of you, he makes no more effort to move.
“Is there anything I can do to help? I’m no finance whiz but I can excel the shit out of a spreadsheet.”
“I’ll figure it out,” he says. Seokjin leaves butterfly kisses all over your face and you try to swat him away. And then, he has a brilliantly selfish idea. “I have to confess, I am very intrigued about that move you pulled on Namjoon that had him nutting in seconds.”
“Of course you are.” You laugh. “It’s a trade secret, though. I don’t know if you’ve earned it yet.”
“Hmmmm,” Seokjin hums as he nuzzles your neck. “It probably never happened,” he muses. “It was all a ploy to get me interested in your feminine wiles.”
“Your blatant attempt at manipulation will get you nowhere, Seokjinnie,” you giggle. He can never tire of your giggle but he also will not be deterred. He aims to find out even if it takes him the rest of his life.
“Whatever you need to say to make it seem as if you have the upper hand,” he drawls as your breasts re-captivate his wandering hands. He idly thumbs your nipples and you draw in a ragged breath. “But consider me Team No Move.”
Seokjin knows he’s being very transparent. It’s part of the fun. If you decide to make him nut in seconds, he’s fine with that — obviously. But even if you never do — even if it’s a tease for the rest of his life — he’s fine with that because he’ll have to be with you the rest of his life in order for that to occur.
All in all, a win-win type situation in which both you and he are pros at achieving.
And so, it’s these cheerful thoughts of mutual gain and satisfaction that bring Seokjin back to the present and his lips to your cunt. You mewl and arch and quiver as he slurps and laps and swirls. He fucks you with his tongue until the string of curses you unleash morphs into incoherent begging. Seokjin feasts on your pussy and makes you come from his mouth alone and you are undone. You are completely undone.
Seokjin wipes his face on the back of his forearm and gazes at you — you who are just as powerful naked and splayed out before him as you are armored up in your power suits and heels. All of a sudden, he feels unworthy and to his shock, Seokjin tears up.
“What’s wrong, Seokjinnie?” you ask, your voice tender and soft. You palm his face and he pushes into your hand, relishing in your strength.
You may still be The Widowmaker on occasion, but with Seokjin, you feel safe enough to be just yourself. Whoever you are at the moment is good enough and Seokjin cherishes and welcomes you — however you decide to show up.
“I’m just so happy,” he confides. “I really fucking love you, Y/N. I really do.”
He blinks rapidly and yet a tear still escapes and gives away his game. He doesn’t mind though. He knows you are also his safe place — that he is free to be as ridiculous or as sentimental as he wants (though he is neither of those things).
Your face twists and Seokjin can’t tell if you’re about to confess you love him, too, or roast him lovingly for the next five minutes. He finds he’s equally excited for both — and that to be on the receiving end of your wicked tongue is a gift and a privilege and he hopes to never lose his place in line.
You reach for him and delve your tongue into Seokjin’s mouth that still tastes of you and you moan. You moan so decadently and lasciviously that Seokjin barely registers what your body is doing to him and the next thing he knows, he has painted your belly white.
“Still Team No Move?” you chuckle as your foreheads touch and Seokjin is still panting like he’s brand new.
“I —”
Seokjin is cut off because you have since scooped up his come from your stomach and stuffed his release all into his mouth. He dutifully swallows and sucks your fingers clean.
“There’s my good man,” you rasp. You scoot out from under him and head to the shower — but you do not do so quick enough for Seokjin to miss your smug mug reveling in his unraveling.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted,” he says and follows you into the shower. Seokjin is never too full of himself to eat crow when it’s his due.
He joins you under the hot spray, kissing you as the waters sluice away the day and leave you both naked and clean, ready to rebuild yourselves anew. Seokjin knows that he is happy — he’s so very, very happy. He’s really fucking happy for himself and for you.
Notes: For those of you who like to know such things, the dream sequence is when YN is sitting with Jin and stroking his hand while Jin and Hobi look at her fondly. And she asks what her favorite drink is and says JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN JIN. That's it. That was my dream. So unbearably wholesome!! I am so upset!!
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